'Twas the Night Before Alpha 4.0 'Twas the night before launch, and all through the 'verse, Not a player was stirring, fearing a server curse. The ships were all docked in the hangars with care, In hopes that the Pyro system soon would be there. The backers were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of server meshing danced in their heads. With Chris in his 'kerchief, and devs in their caps, Had just settled down for some well-deserved naps. When out on Spectrum there arose such a clatter, I sprang to my mobiGlas to see what was the matter. Away to the forums I flew like a flash, Tore open the threads and refreshed in a dash. The servers on standby, ready to go, Gave a luster of hope to the gamers below. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature update, and patch notes so clear. With a diligent leader, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Chris. More rapid than eagles his updates they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: "Now Pyro! Now Meshing! Now Jump Points and more! On Outposts! On Missions! On gameplay galore! To the edge of the 'verse! To the planets and moons! Now game on! Game on! Alpha 4.0 looms!" As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up to the servers the developers flew, With the sleigh full of features, and St. Chris too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the net, The prancing and pawing of each new asset. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the patch came with a leap and a bound. It was dressed all in code, from its head to its foot, And its lines were all polished with bug fixes to boot. A bundle of features it had flung on its back, And it looked like a marvel, just ready to unpack. Its eyes—how they twinkled! Its functions, how merry! Its scripts were like roses, its graphics like a cherry! Its droll little modules were drawn up like a bow, And the code of its logic was as clean as the snow. The stump of a bug it held tight in its teeth, And the smoke, it encircled its head like a wreath. It had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook when it ran, like a bowl full of jelly. It was chubby and plump, a right jolly old patch, And I laughed when I saw it, in spite of the catch. A wink of its eye and a twist of its head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. It spoke not a word, but went straight to its work, And filled all the servers; then turned with a jerk. And laying its finger aside of its nose, And giving a nod, up the player count rose. It sprang to its sleigh, to the devs gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight— "Happy gaming to all, and to all a good flight!" Thank you CIG for this holiday gift!