Empty Local

Empty Local by Jita Docked deep in Derelik, hull full to the brim, Anshar in low-sec, fate looking grim. Cargo's worth billions, the route lined with dread, And one Lancer sighting could mean I’m dead. D-scan's my heartbeat, intel my prayer, Alt scouts the gates, not a soul anywhere. Chat's holding steady—just me in the glow, But one flash of local, and I’m the cargo. Empty local, let me fly, Just one blink and I might die. Lancer Dreads, keep sleeping tight, This jump freighter’s done with fright. Low-sec's shadow, high-sec's dream, Slip through silent, no laser beam. Anshar's belly’s…