Twas the night before christmas

I found this old poem from 2014 and reworked it 2033...

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the void
Not a starship was stirring, not even a Thargoid
The cargo crates were stacked by the docking bay with care,
In hopes that Cmdr St Nicholas soon would be there.

When out on the loading dock there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the star bunk to see what was the matter.
Away to the glass portal I flew like a flash,
Tore open the blast shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to satelites below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature Hauler, and eight tiny sidewinders.

With a little old pilot, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Cmd St Nick.
More rapid than an Eagles his coursers they came,
And he hailed, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the observation deck! to the top of the pylon!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry moons that before the solar hurricane fly,
When they meet with an satelites, mount to the void.
So up to the outpost-top the coursers they flew,
With the Hauler full of Toys, and Cmdr St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the hatchtop
The prancing and pawing of each little docking claw.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the exthaust vent Cmdr St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his boots,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a trader, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a lave-cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the Saturn snow.

The stump of a e-pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a planet ring.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of luna jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old rogue,
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 cargo crates, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the exhaust vent he rose!

He sprang to his Hauler, to his team gave a hail,
And away they all flew like the down of a planets gravitational pull.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he flew out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

Merry Christmas Everyone..!
 
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You must not be a citizen of the Empire and have entirely too much time on your hands.

Well done.

And have some rep.
 
And it is also rumoured that the empire and federation forces have been seen to observe a historic (the 1914 WW1 earth war) Christmas day truce in certain front lines (though not all) where they have been known to engage in a friend game of cargo crate football in no man's space and exchange cargo cart gift.

Then retrieve fallen pilot, to give them a proper military service, before returning to their lines.

Showing that they have mutual respect for each other even though they are currently in conflict
 
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