ALOPRATS / ALOPRATS

They left us for dead in the hull of a wreck,
with frost on the wiring and blood on the deck.

We took what we needed and burned what we crossed,
and counted our brothers among what we lost.

A drifter came looking for salvage to sell;
he found what the salvage had guarded too well.

We flew out his freighter with half of a wing,
and hunger flew with us and taught us to sting.

The Empire sends cruisers to comb through the black;
they find every trail but the one leading back.

We bleed out in vacuum, we scream at the void,
and carve our revenge from all we destroyed.

So drink to the wreck that refused us a grave,
to all that we plundered and none that we gave.

The Pyro still burns us, the dark knows our name,
but rats born in Ruin don’t perish in flame.