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[Starlynx1]

A decently-made Battletech parody of “Twas the Night Before Christmas”

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‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the dropship

Not a single Battlemech was stirring, not even a Flea

The Arrow IVs were hung by the dropbays with care, in hopes that Saint Kerensky would soon arrive.

The Urbanmechs were nestled all snug in their pretend cities, while visions of rage-inducing headshots danced in their cockpits

And mama Marauder in her cooling jacket, and I in my neurohelmet, had just settled our reactors for a long sector jump.

When outside of the dropship arose such a clatter, I sprang from my mechbay to see what was the matter

Away to the window I sprinted in a flash, tore open the solar shutters, and threw up the gantries

The star-lit abyss on the dawn of a jumpship gave the luster of midday to objects around

When, what to my wandering sensors should appear, but a Star-League Orion and 8 beautiful Hunchbacks

With a grizzled old pilot, so kind and methodical,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Kerensky

More rapid than Locusts, his soldiers they came, and he commanded and bellowed and called them by name
“Now Simon! Now Richard!
Now Katyusha! Now Nicholas!
On, Andery! On, Aaron!
On, Jerome and Lauren!
To the Rimworlds Republic!
To the Terran Hegemony!
Now dash away! Dash Away!
Dash away all!”

As spent casings that before the wild firestorm fly,
When they meet an obstacle, formation in the sky
So up to the dropbays the mechwarriors they flew
With the Battlemechs laden in spare parts, and Saint Kerensky too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the dropship
The rumbling and stomping of each old Battlemech

As I drew my head and was turning around,
Up the dropbays Saint Kerensky came in with a bound

He was dressed in Star-League attire, from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished with grease and coolant

A bundle of PPCs he had slung over his back
And he looked like a Lyrian just opening their market

His eyes, how they glittered!
His head, how shiny!
His cheeks were like Infernos, his nose like a Flamer

His sharp little mouth was held up like a Longbow
And the bushiness on his eyebrows was as gray as the steel

The stump of a cigar he held right in his teeth
and the smoke it encircled his head like a halo

He had a round face and a toned upper torso
that flexed when he laughed, like a bundle of myomer fibers.

He was rugged and slender, a well-aged general
and I saluted when I saw him, in spite of myself

A whistle of his mouth and a nod of his head
Soon gave time to know there was nothing to dread.

He spoke not a command, but went straight to his task,
and filled all the storage bays, then turned with a blitz.

And laying a finger onto his headset,
And giving a salute, down the dropbay he fell

He sprang to his Orion, to his squad he gave the order.
And they all flew like the missiles of an LRM.

But I heard him proclaim, before he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, to once more serve and protect and guide! Farewell, and to all a good night!”

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Wish all of you Mechwarriors a merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. May your UACS never jam and your target locks be plentiful.