Intergalactic Summit

One of the most delighful spiritual Amarr traditions I remember from my pre-capsuleer days, was the night before December 6th, tucking my children into their beds and reciting the Tale of Saint Nicholas the Destroyer. What a way to ensure the kids went quietly to bed that night!

And so - because some traditions should never die - I again celebrate the holy veneration of Saint Nicholas the Destroyer.

....May his swift judgments (and presents) reign down on you all!

"Saint Nicholas the Destroyer"

Twas the night before St Nicholas Eve
and all through the station
not a Minmatar was stirring, demanding emancipation

The stockings were hung by the pods with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The crews were nestled all snug in their vessels,
with visions of Ravens, Apocs and Kestrels

And pappa in his 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a New Eden's nap,

When out on the hull there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my pod to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the hangar and threw up the latch.

The moon on the rise and the asteroids 'a glow,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature frigate, and eight tiny drone-deer,

With a menacing old driver, so violent and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than Dramiels his drones they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, luxuria! now, gula! now, avaritia!
On, ira! on invidia! on, superbia and acedia!

To the top of the drone bay! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the bridge-top the drones they flew,
With the frigate full of gifts, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the hull
The prancing and pawing of those drones so special.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the torpedo bay St. Nicholas came in with a bound.

He was dressed all in armor, his body full of flames,
And his weapons were all tarnished with blood and remains;

A bundle of gifts he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they simmered! his dimples how scary!
His cheeks were like embers, how completely un-merry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a sneer
And the beard of his chin was as dark as my fear!

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He was terrifying and fearsome, a right vengeful old elf,
And I shook when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had everything to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the torpedo bay he rose;

He sprang to his frigate, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Merry St Nicholas Day to all, and to all a good-night."

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the ship.

Not a pod was stirring, not even a ghost;

The orders were hung on the market with care,

In hopes that St. Demon soon would be there;

The children were nestled short on there bids;

While visions of isk danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'grave, and I in my pod,

Had just settled our brains for a long eternal nap,

When out on the radar there arose such a mess,

I sprang from my dock to see what was the mater.

Away to the holo I flew like the wind,

Tore open the market and threw up the ISK.

The moon on the lamb of the new-fallen snow,

Gave a turd of horror to objects below,

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But a miniature market and eight tiny eye teer,

With a little old woman so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment she must be pissed.

More rapid than angels her orders open wide,

And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, NEWB! now, Duncap! now Prenewb and Vitoc!

On, Combat! on, Fate! on, Dancing and Blitz!

To the top of the Q! to the top of the market dominate all!

Now burn away! short away! scam away all!"

As a storm before the wild hurricane fly,

When meet with an obolisk, mountin in the sky;

So up to the hotdrop the crusers they flew

With the bay full of toys, and St. Demon Goo.

And then, in a cyno, I heard on the roof

The dancing and laughing of each little nerf.

As I drew in my soul, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Demon came to be heard.

He was dressed all in black, from his chest to his back,

And his clothes were all tarnished with rust and with ash;

A bundle of trash he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.

His eyes they were missing! his dimples, were gone!

His cheeks were like black holes, his nose was like gone!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard on his chin was not quite ready till 2017 ( ;

The stump of a pipe he had yet to done,

And the smoke, it did not exist like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly

That did really nothing, like a bowl full of broken promisses.

He was chubby and diabetic, and dieing from bad health,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; with turds and a smirk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the wormhole he rose;

He sprang to his ship, to his tribe gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the warhead of a missile.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight—

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good fight!”