Merry Christmas from the collective

Posted on Sun Dec 25th, 2011 @ 3:18pm by Commander James Frost

Found this online

Borg Night Before Christmas



'Twas the night before Christmas in the Borg collective,
In their cube of a spacecraft, all the drones were connected,
A single vision passed through all their heads,
All races assimilated and all humans dead.

The Borg Queen hated humans, as did her whole legion,
She hated the Enterprise crew, and with reason -
It wasn't that her head wasn't screwed on just right,
Or indeed that her armor plate was two notches too tight.

(Though some sources claim the most likely reason of all,
Was to do with the heart that she forgot to install.)
As she stood in her alcove to regenerate,
She thought of the races she'd assimilate.

Staring down from the hive with a sour, Borg frown,
At the Enterprise crew who had just been beamed down,
To celebrate Christmas with their friends and crew mates,
On a wintry planet, unaware of their fates.

"And they've holstered their phasers!" she snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!"
Then she growled, with her Borg fingers nervously drumming,
"I must assimilate all and stop Christmas from coming."

For tomorrow is Christmas and a day of good cheer,
A human weakness, she thought with a sneer.
And then - oh, the noise! Oh, the speeches and toasts,
The 'where none has gone before' and the first contact boasts.

"I know just what to do!" the Queen laughed in her throat,
And then reattached her body to her head with a gloat.
And her gears and her wheels all whirred in a lick,
As she decided to make herself look like St. Nick.

"All I need is a reindeer..." the Queen looked around.
But, since reindeer are scarce in space, none could be found.
The Borg Queen was determined, her plan fixed in her head.,
"If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead!"

She beamed Data up to her hive and then, after,
A quick download and reprogram she gave him some antlers,
She loaded some bags, this ersatz Borg Santa,
On a ramshackle sleigh and she hitched up old Data.

Then the Queen said 'giddy-up' and away the sleigh sped,
Down to the planet where the crew lay a-bed,
Where she slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant,
Around the whole camp, and she stole every present!

Phasers! And bat'telhs! Picard's fave Shakespeare book!
Dilithium crystals! Isolinear chips she took!
She stuffed them in bags and without feelings or guilt,
She turned Data around and headed into the hills.

Who should appear in the midst of this quatrain,
But the inventor of warp drive, old Zefram Cochrane.
Still living on Gamma Canaris' planet,
He celebrated Christmas, whene'er he could plan it.

"These presents are broken," Borg Queen Santa said, smirking.
A quick trip to my workshop, and they all will be working.
And her fib fooled the man, who was a drunk, it was said.
So she got him a drink and she sent him to bed.

Three thousand feet up, Data dragged that full sled.
When he got to the top, something clicked in his head.
His emotion chip triggered a feeling of dread,
When he saw Borg Queen Santa, a vision in red.

"What I've observed about Christmas," Data told that vile elf,
"Is that it's more than a gift that just lies on a shelf.
It is a spirit that means far more than mere wealth.
Although I'm an android, I've felt it myself."

And he opened his head, something an android can do.
"I have inside here a small gift just for you."
His emotion chip sparkled, like a drop of fresh dew.
"I think you will like this. It's something quite new."

And what happened then? Well the Borg legends say,
That the Queen grew a heart that very same day.
And the minute her heart began to feel right,
She whizzed with her load through the bright morning light.

And brought back the gifts and the food for the feast!
And the Borg Queen herself carved replicated roast beast!

 

Category: Out of Character
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