I wrote a Fan Fic

Okay, you guys know by now that I have a show called Freddy’s Fan Fiction.  One of the things that is done on the show is a guest-written fan fiction.  Well, this time, I insisted that I write one instead of my guests.  So they gave me some ridiculous prompts (though not any more ridiculous than any of the other amazing fan fics that my guests have written so far).  I am going to use this post for you to read along with us during the show.  By the way, this show is not work safe.  It can also offend delicate sensibilities.  We are reverent of nothing.  That is your only warning.

It’s a live show that I do bi-weekly with guests.  We will be airing it tonight, and you can watch it live on my YouTube channel.  Or you can follow my Twitter stream where I will send out the link to the show when it airs.  We’re shooting for 9:30PM Central.  You can read along with the rest of the stories here.  Hope you tune in!

Anyway, on with the story.  If you want the same experience as our guests during the show, don’t read it just yet.  When we perform it live, the guests are reading the story for the first time, too.  It’s all candid.


My Little Borg

by Freddy

The Borg cube slipped silently through the warp.  After the total domination of so many segments of the galaxy, there was still more to assimilate, still more to take from the organic civilizations.  It would take their collective ever closer toward their goal of becoming an amalgam of the best technology and biology that the galaxy was able to create.  They must always learn, always assimilate greater biology, always acquire superior technology and knowledge.  They had grown so vast and widespread that they were out of contact with distant Borg collectives.  No matter, after the total domination of the galaxy, they would return to their origin and share what they had learned to finally become what they were made to become.

Their next target planet, RST-12145, was a curiosity.  Their sensors picked up a strange energy that had not been seen by them before.  They approached the system, effortlessly achieving orbit after a short retrograde burst from their impulse engines.

Scans of the surface indicated life signs and rudimentary infrastructure, though not of any type they had encountered previously.  Early indications suggested an abundance of pastels and heavy outlines.  Continuing with the scans, they encountered something even more surprising – Another Borg cube in orbit.  At least, it looked like a Borg cube.  The size, shape, and energy signature matched what a standard cube should be.  Yet the collective could not raise the other cube on their communications frequencies.

Frequent encounters with sophisticated species that resisted assimilation created the necessity for frequency-cycling with their communications arrays.  It was a safety precaution that had been followed by nearly every Borg cube since the disastrous meeting with the Federation.  This new cube had clearly been away and out of contact long enough that their communications systems had been altered in very different ways.  Such was a consequence of spanning a galaxy.

Meanwhile, the other Borg cube was having the same problems with their newly arrived compatriots.  Fluttering through the dark halls and cramped corridors, winged fairies alighted on anything they could find: hatch servos, heat transfer pump throttle valves, the head of a Borg in stasis.  This Borg cube had come across the species of fairies.  Their small, frail bodies were incompatible with assimilation.  Therefore, they were not anything that the Borg would be interested in.  Still, the Winged Fairies tagged along and even thrived in the Borg cube.  For some reason, the exposure to radiation and the warp field excited them, and they sustained themselves by feeding on high-energy cosmic rays.

For a time, the two cubes matched orbits.  The collective from the first cube then decided to make its way to the surface in order to facilitate some kind of communication between the two collectives.  About a hundred Borg beamed down to the surface.  They found themselves in a green meadow clearing surrounded by forest and a road on one side.  It was idyllic, sunny, and cheerful.  It was in direct contrast to the Borg collective’s pasty skin and black life-support biotech suits.  The second Borg collective scanned the surface and saw the first collective’s away team.  They decided to meet with their own away team.  Winged fairies were caught up in the mass beaming, and they found themselves in the meadow as well.

Exactly two hundred Borg faced each other.  They needed to communicate, but it was impossible.  Voice communication was unreliable and too inefficient for the data transfer that was required.  Unable to communicate with each other through electromagnetic transmission, the only option would be to trade data through less advanced methods.  Hidden under the new technology that they had gathered over the years and centuries was old tech.  Ports and cables scattered all over their bodies.  The masses of Borg in their rubbery wire-laden carapaces approached each other.  Each individual was different.  A slightly different port that would accept only a certain type of dongle.

When they got closer, they began exposing their ports and dongles.  The only way to know if a dongle fit in a port was to try one after the other.  Though this would take time, the Borg were not deterred.  They would find a connection.  With this number of potential connections, it was only a matter of time before they would find one that would be the perfect fit.  The repeated attempts and lack of communication between the two groups caused many of them to fall.  Others were required to wrench their bodies into unnatural positions to either offer or receive dongles.  The result was a massive pile of Borg bodies writhing and squirming, moving from one body to another, hoping their dongle could fit into a port.

Winged fairies fluttered overhead.

While this was happening, a local inhabitant of the planet known as Equestria happened to be jauntily clopping down the road.  Her name was Pinkie Pie.  She spotted the pile of writhing Borg, listening to the constant, creaky rubber-on-rubber shriek.  Hundreds of whirs and clicks echoed off the Everfree Forest walls, and the winged fairies that circled the chaos seemed to be enjoying themselves, even if they seemed confused.

“Woo HOOO! A party!” exclaimed Pinky Pie.  She raced back to Ponyville to tell her friends all about it.

“Newcomers?” asked a skeptical Twilight Sparkle.  “They don’t sound like anyone I’ve ever seen before.”

“Oh wow!” said Scootaloo, overhearing the conversation.  “I’m gonna say hi to them first!”  She zipped down the road to her doom.  Rainbow Dash quickly followed, just to keep an eye on her protege.  That would be a choice that would change her life forever.

The whole gang followed suit, merrily clopping down the road to meet their new friends.  Fluttershy lagged behind, typically shy of newcomers.  Her shyness would not save her.

The Borg pile had finally found a dongle and port that fit.  The information exchange was complete.  Their histories and communications frequency modulation were known to each other.  They were, in essence, one mega Borg collective.  They peeled each individual off the pile.  As they did so, Scootaloo approached them at high speed.  Perceived as a threat, Scootaloo was vaporized immediately.  Rainbow Dash slowed to a halt and screamed in horror.  She was stunned and captured.  The other ponies met similar fates.  Fluttershy ran back in an attempt to warn the city, but she was vaporized, too.

The Borg collective beamed back up to their ships with their captives.  Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash were being fitted with their implants.  Rows of flexible tubes and conduit replaced their manes.  Rubber coated their hooves.  Lasers sprouted from their cutie marks.

They were beamed back down to Ponyville in order to assimilate the rest of the ponies.

“You will be assimilated.  Resistance is futile,” they said in unison.

It was a very short time before everything was burning or collapsed or vaporized.  The screams and panic that first met the Pony Borg when they entered the city had been reduced to wailing and shocked acceptance.

“What are you doing?” yelled Spike to his former friends as they killed anyone who resisted.  They had changed.  They were not themselves.  Princess Celestia had put up resistance initially, until Applejack crushed her windpipe with a robotic arm that sprung out of her back.

“You have to fight it!  They’ve put the machines in you, but you’re still in there, I know it!” said Spike nervously as Applejack turned from the limp body of Celestia and slowly clopped toward him.

“Resistance is futile,” said Pinkie Pie.  She and the other ponies were surrounding him.

“No, no!” said Spike, cringing at the base of the statue in the middle of the town square.  “Fight it!” he bellowed.

Twilight Sparkle hesitated.  “Resistance is…  futile,” she said.

Applejack’s robotic arm lifted Spike by the neck, slowly squeezing.  “Please, it’s me!  Remember?” pleaded Spike.  The arm paused.

Rainbow Dash twitched her metal-laden head, clearly trying her best to resist.  “Resistance is…” said Rainbow Dash.  “Resistance is…”

“You can do it, Rainbow Dash!” said Spike.  “I know you’re still in there!”

“Resistance is…  MAGIC!” said Rainbow Dash, finally becoming herself.

It seemed to cause a chain reaction among the other ponies.  They seemed to snap out of it.  Their lasers flickered off and the servos in their cybernetic enhancements powered down.

“Oh no, what have we done?” said Rarity, looking over the carnage she had helped create.  All of the ponies felt very sad and guilty.

High above the planet in orbit, the Borg collective were monitoring the situation.  It had obviously gotten out of their control.  The Ponies were somehow able to resist the machinery implanted in their brains and bodies.  It was time to cut their losses.

So the two Borg ships used their powerful weapons to scour the surface of all life.


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