"Who'll make his mark", the FC cried. "To the devil drink a toast. We'll glut the hold with cups of gold And we'll feed space with ghosts I see your hunger for a fortune Could be better served beneath my flag If you've the stomach for a broadside Come aboard my pretty boys I will take you and make you Everything you've ever dreamed."
"Make fast the guns tonight we fly when the full moon shines above, cut free the lines and square the X-Type get the black flag stowed away the Gallente, Caldari, and the Amarr will soon have pennies on their eyes and any other laden fancy we will take her by surprise I will take you and make you Everything you've ever dreamed."
Six days off the Poitot gate when a nuet in local they spied "An indy of the treasure fleet,' the cloaked lookout cried "Closer to the gate my boys," the mad-eyed FC roared "For every man that's alive tonight will be hauling gold aboard." "Spare us," the indy begged but mercy's face had fled
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gD9C1az9ZYc
Dashboard
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Intel Profile
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