Author's note: First out is a remake of the classic poem "Twas the night before Christmas" written by Clement Clark Moore (or Major Henry Livingston Jr depending on who you ask), in a Mass Effect setting. This is my first published fanfiction, so I hope you will have some lenience with possible shortcomings. Since many of the stories are based on poems, the grammar might have suffered at some places to keep the rhyme flowing. If you have a better suggestion on some rhymes, by all means let me know so I might improve your experience reading it.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is a product of Bioware, and every story and carol used here are all originally written by someone else, and I will write the original author at the beginning of each story.

Enjoy and happy holiday!

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Citadel Space

Not a Keeper was stirring, not even an Asari's eternal embrace

The Beacons were placed at the planets with care

In hopes the Enkindlers would soon be there

The crew were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of jelly-fished hanar danced through their heads

And Normandy in her sheets, and I in my cap

Had just settled in for an FTL nap

When out in the space arouse such a clatter

I sprang from my cabin to see what was the matter

Away to port observation I flew like a flash

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash

The stars' shining light on the nebula cloud

Gave the lustre of midday to particles below

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear

But a miniature reaper and six of his ilk toward us would steer

With a little odd driver, steering the span

I knew in a moment it must be the Illusive Man

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name

"Now, Sovereign! Now, Harbinger! Now, Leviathan and Derelict!

On, other unnamed machines, whom so many sentient have snared and tricked!

To the top of the ship, that used to be mine!

Now dash away! Dash away! All in an orderly line!"

As dry leaves before the hurricane fly,

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

They flew to the ship as if it was naught but a landing pad

With a load full of husks, and things best left unsaid

And then in a twinkling, against the physical laws

I heard on the roof, the scratching and pawing of metallical claws

As I drew back my head, and got back to my room,

Down the pressure hull, Illusive man came down with a boom

He was dressed in his usual attire, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with frost and galactical soot

A bundle of Reaper tubes came from his back,

And he looked like a husk, his humanity was a lack

His eyes – how they twinkled! So ominous and not in particular merry!

His cheeks were synthetic, his breath stale of sherry!

His voice was dark and deprived of all joy

And I knew this was all part of Harbinger's ploy

The stump of a cigarette he held tight in his teeth

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He was smaller than I had thought

Wondering if this was all that he brought

He was thin and short, an evil little elf,

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

An angry flash of his eyes and a twist of his head

Soon let me know I should have reasons to dread

He snarled and gave me the Intel, that between only us two

He was in control, and no one was telling him what to do

With that said his business was done,

And he left through the hatch, from which he had come,

He sprang to the Reapers, telling them to ascend

They still had many others, a message of death and destruction to send

But I heard him exclaim, as to an end was his role

"Happy Christmas to all, and releasing control!"