The Ship That Wouldn’t Shoot - For my friend Sparky Davaham

The Ship That Wouldn’t Shoot by Jita FM (based of a real story) For my friend Sparky Davaham Roaming low-sec, hunting alone, Another day far from home. In Ignoitton, I found a sign— A Mackinaw, just sitting in the line. Could be bait, could be gold, But hunger speaks when your guns run cold. I locked him down, went in full speed, No lasers back—just silent bleed. But what he wrote—it stopped me cold, Not the usual trash the angry hold. Said, “Take the wreck, it’s all for you,” But something deeper was breaking through. There was sorrow in the things he typed, Not salt, not rage—just loss…