[Intro] Yeah. It’s 3AM in J one five two eight two zero And I’ve just microwaved yesterday’s Quafe burger. Tripwire’s lit like a Caldari rave. But this ain’t no party. It’s patrol time. [Verse 1] The hole’s cold, the comms are colder, Dispatcher’s voice like static — older. “Scan’s up, boys. Got relic raiders breaching grid.” I spill synth on my sleeve. Can’t even have a quiet cig. Got a tab open to check fittings, My Loki’s cloaked, heart still ticking. There’s a Heron nosin’ through a sleeper site, He don’t know we’re tucked in tight like a parasite. Muh’s late again — Says he had to reset probes, but we all know he was AFK. "Classic," I mutter, masking rage with calm. But you can’t decloak karma, mate — it’s armed. [Chorus] There’s a ping in the dark and a voice on the line, It’s Dispatch Girl sayin’ “We’re outta time.” No gates, no laws, no CONCORD bark, But you feel us coming when we ping in the dark. We’re W H P D, mate. We don’t do alarms — Just pings, scans, traps, and harm. [Verse 2] DooShay’s posted on the WH mouth, Like some interstellar bouncer — You ain’t gettin’ out. He’s got a scram, a web, and a smirk on his face, Justice served cold — welcome to our place. I’m sittin’ on D-scan, drinkin’ lukewarm tea, Watchin’ rookies try to act like they’re elite PvP. You ain’t slick, you ain’t silent — we see your flux. We’ve been the shadow in your scope since before you had luck. Null’s got fleets, high’s got pride, But J-space? That’s where cowards and gods collide. Every scan’s a gamble, every ping’s a prayer, But we’re the blokes who answer, “Yeah, we’re there.” [Chorus] There’s a ping in the dark and a ship on approach, A Stratios dancing like a ghostly coach. He thought it was clear — he thought he was smart, But that bookmark’s bait, and we tore him apart. We’re W H P D, mate. We don’t do flash, We just write crime reports in the wreckage and ash. [Bridge – Spoken] "Oi, you got his name?" “Bunga Bungugus.” “Right. Noted. Another citation for the bin. Violating IUS LEX PENAL CODE: Article 4-B — Trespassing within sacred wormhole space.” And I file it under: !!! CRIMINAL CITATION !!! [Verse 3] Night shift ends when the sun don’t rise, Only when Dispatch yawns and says, “Alright guys.” But we don’t log off — we fade. Back into the static haze we made. No medals, no pay, no fables told. Just stories traded over wormhole cold. So when your screen goes dark and your relic site’s void, Just remember who ruined your joy. [Outro – Spoken] We’re not heroes. We’re not villains. We’re the force that says: “Mate, this is sacred space. Move along.” And if you don’t? You’ll hear that ping in the dark.
