'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the alliance Not a private was stirring, not even an alliance attack;

The missiles were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Enigma soon would be there;

The officers were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of burning annexes danced in their heads;

And Silky in her leash, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the black site there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bunk to see what was the matter.

Away to the turret I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-built wildcats

Gave the lustre of mid-day to the headquarter below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature Glaive, and eight tiny Behemoths,

With a Marshal , so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Enigma.

More rapid than eagles his generals they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, CAZ! now, GROG! now, MEDUSA and REAPER!

On, CHARDIN! on RUI! on, HSM and GUNNY!

To the top of the Command Center! to the top of the wall!

Now fire away! Fire away! Fire away all!"

As dry munitions that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the base-top the generals they flew,

With the Glaive full of troops, and St. Enigma too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the base

The blast and recoil of each quad gun.

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

Down the Tech Center St. Enigma came with a bound.

He was dressed all in legendary gear, from his head to his foot, And his gear was level 5 with gold and hero loot;

A bundle of drones he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a Hero just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His titan little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a cigerette he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little flat belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of Latkes .

He was lean and spry, a right jolly old Marshal,

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; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the Tech Center he rose;

He sprang to his Glaive , to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the whiz of a sky piercer missile But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,

HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!