By: Commander Jack Carrigan

Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the Cluster;
A mass Naval Force
Was beginning to muster.
The launchers, cannons and blasters,
Were loaded with care
In hopes that the Sansha soon would be there.

The pilots were nestled all snug in their pods.
They checked, and rechecked all of their mods.

The silence was broken by a flurry of blasters,
As the merry band of pilots met their new “Master”.
When out from the Comms arose such a clatter,
Wing Commanders swearing and directing the battle.

In from nullsec in a brilliant white light,
Three carriers hot dropped to join in the fight.
The flash of laser batteries lit up the space,
And let all see the look on the Sansha Nation’s face.

When out from nowhere our Recons did spot,
Six Nightmares warped in and downed a dreadnought.
The capsule left floating ended up scrammed;
I tried to engage but my tracking was jammed.

Out of control the violence did spin,
This battle was lost, with no way to win.
Now Rifter! Now Thrasher! Now Kestrel and Merlin!
On Thorax! On Stabber! On Moa and Omen!
To the side of the moon! To the dark of the space!
Now warp away! Warp away! Regroup and Wait!

As bright, shooting stars, that Drake let missiles fly,
When they hit their targets, the Sansha did die.
To the dark side of the moon we did scurry and wait,
To stage a surprise and seal all their fates.

And then in the darkness, just lit by my HUD
An echo rang out, sounding like many thuds.
As I spun on my keel and started to reach,
I realized our rally point had just been breached.

The pilots were all lined up in file and rank,
A gleam came off the ships, the warm glow of their tanks.
The True Slaves warped in, to begin their attack,
Flaming spires of death were seen forward and back.

Their ships did not twinkle, their ships were not merry,
Things in this system had just gotten hairy.
The drones from theirs ships lashed out like a swarm,
Torpedoes were fired not long after armed.

The large plumes from smart bombs circled like wreathes,
And the rocking from arties made most grit their teeth.
They had hellish guns and they just kept on coming,
The bombers decloaked and began their bomb running.

Locked into combat with mindless True Slaves,
Had to thank every comrade for many close saves.

A light in the sky, right over my head,
A cyno was popped, and in jumped a dread.
A broadside barrage from its massive guns,
Turned the tide of the ambush, the battle was won!
And with each controlled squeeze of the trigger,
The Sansha fell back, the body count bigger.

They turned on their keels, and started to run,
That darkened force that blacked out the sun.
I heard our Commander exclaim, and then let out a sigh,
Merry Christmas, Sansha Nation, you’re all going to die!