Freelancer Codex's Podcast

Cortex -> Library -> Society -> Outlaws Eight bullets left had Gira Cage when lost to Outlaw fires. And eight bullets was all it took, down in the Bullet Mires. Gira Cage had flown out one dark dismal day. To gather some supplies she saw along the way. When bullets fired from down below shot her from the sky. And she fell into the marshes, where she was sure to die. Down down down she went... in the bullet mires. Hatch, he was an outlaw, with madness in his grin. And eyes without a soul, a laugh that burned your skin. He shot Cage from the blue, her soul was his to break. Her javelin... her Ranger... from her body he'd take. Down down down he was... in the bullet mires. Cage, she heard him coming, and crawled behind a stone. Her side was torn and bloody, her leg with broken bones. She counted out her bullets, she barely had a round. Eight bullets 'tween her and the black funeral mound. Down down down she went... in the bullet mires. Hatche's Gang of Seven, well, they moved in for the kill. But G