No Curse on D Scan

No Curse on D-Scan. by Jita FM Gate green. Hold cloak. Heat ready. Drones primed. Neuts cycling. No Curse on D‑scan — hey! Curse on your pod — hey! Cap to zero — hey! Drones on the job — hey! Golden bones from the Arbitrator line, Silent in your cone, I’m a shadow on time. Directional’s clean so you settle and talk— Then grid lights up and I break your lock. Point on, orbit cold, thirty at range, Medium neuts kiss, now the numbers get strange. You mash that rep, but the tank won’t start— I drink your core dry, take the light from your heart. You said “D‑scan clear,” felt safe where you…