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Written for a small but intrepid group of Eve Online players.
The Ballad of HAL
lyrics and melody by Catherine Faber (aka Felicity Daubigny) 2012
By human connections, our customs and laws
The EOTO called for help for its POS
Their system besieged by an enemy sworn
A pirate alliance―the so-called “Reborn.”
So the RCS pilots geared up and flew hence
To enter a wormhole and aid the defense
But many would perish, too slow to detect
Assault from a quarter they didn't expect.
The stars hiss and mutter, their warble and screech
For one who has listened too long, or too hard,
Can eerily take on the cadence of speech
To a mind that in loneliness lowers its guard.
Who can imagine what blasphemous hack
The POS might have suffered, alone in the black?
Anathema pilot Ebeneezer the Jade
The first brave defender the POS guns betrayed
He uncloaked to scan―he had just time to say
“I think that the POS--” as his ship burned away.
Bold Brain McGeek, must have lingered too long,
Fixing whatever POS setting was wrong,
For something he altered blew up in his face;
His Cyclone dispersed to the thin winds of space.
Not half an hour later, Gudlaugur would dare
To switch to a Tempest the guns to repair.
The POS then attacks, and the poor Tempest runs--
To seek the POS forcefield to baffle its guns.
Rejoic tried to aid his good friend to survive
By repping the Tempest, but couldn't contrive
To balance the damage the POS wouldn't stop
Despite his best efforts, the Tempest went “pop!”
Kohy did not have the password invoked;
He bounced off the forcefield and promptly decloaked
Which fatally somehow offended the POS;
His Cheetah was quickly destroyed for the cause.
Zakarisz Ghent in a Stabber there stood--
Fitted for speed tank that did him no good;
For no nanofibers will end the affair,
When the POS can bring multiple webbers to bear.
Torvald was walloped―we couldn't say when
At some point, poor Kohy was blown up again.
But we still held the system, when counting was done;
The POS didn't beat us. And―oh yeah―we won.
The beaten Reborn destroyed five for their cause,
RCS, Seven, and Eight for the POS.
We never learned why―and I doubt that we shall;
The last thing I heard, they were calling it HAL.