Finding A Sidekick- Part 3
“State our designation.”
“What?”
Wisps of smoke drifted away from my face, revealing a darkened circular room with an extremely high ceiling. The voice came out of nowhere, but it sounded artificial and clunky. As my visual sensors came into focus, I could zoom in and clearly see... people... in small exposed chambers lining the edges of the room. As I tilted my head upward, I saw floor after floor of identical chambers, each housing one unconscious occupant.
I didn’t see a light source, but the floor was covered with a flowing, shimmering green mist. The mist obscured my view of the floor, so I was unable to determine its composition, although it felt somewhat metallic. What kind of afterlife was this?
“State out designation.”
For the first time, I noticed the shadowy figure standing right in front of me. I didn’t notice her before, because I was so busy staring at the people encased in the wall. This particular being was extremely pale, hairless, covered in cybernetic gadgetry...
“Oh, great. I’m in the Borg afterlife. I had no idea the Borg even had an afterlife. Okay, who are you?”
“State our designation.”
“State your designation.”
“We are Negative One of Negative One, Primary Facilitator of Unimatrix Negative One.”
“Sweet Jiminy! The Borg have assimilated negative numbers! Will their madness never end?!”
“State our designation.”
I sighed, turning from the drone. “This day has been so unproductive.” Bending back over to the drone, I decided to tell my whole story to a disinterested stranger who probably wouldn’t understand a word of it. “I came to the afterlife with one simple dream.”
I looked away from the drone and clasped a fist, striking my chest. Then I lilted my head up slightly and activated my tear ducts. “I wanted to find someone... anyone with a super, amazing catch phrase... to be my sidekick and... and help me win the fourth challenge.” I really put on the waterworks now. “But I have been through every pocket of metaphysics in this universe ten times over, and I haven’t found a single sidekick worthy of such a great bureau chief as I.”
“State our designation.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll just leave you to your mindless tasks and go throw in the towel...” Then it hit me like ten thousand bolts of super-heated plasma.
“You!”
“State our designation.”
“Happy day! Finally, someone with an annoying catchphrase! And a Borg to boot! A Borg spirit!” All my prayers had been answered indirectly, in a roundabout manner!
“State our designation.”
“My designation is Four of... Two?”
For the first time, her face had what looked like an emotion on it.
“Index out of bounds.”
“Oh. Then try checking... Zero of Zero?”
This time the response was more pronounced; she dropped to the ground and started reciting a sequence of prime numbers and communication protocols. The bottom lid of her one organic eye convulsed in an unnatural manner and she rocked her head back and forth.
“Division error, division error, division error, begin test one three five seven eleven thirteen...”
“From Unimatrix ‘H.’”
“P- p- parse!”
There was a loud snapping sound and she stopped moving. Grabbing one of her legs, I dragged the drone over to the building’s vinculum and started pressing buttons.
“My awesometronic brain tells me... this button activates the transporters!”
The alcove started to glow, a transport timer counting down in Borg.
“I think I’m going to call you... Oregon Trail.”
A low humming sound enveloped us, followed by a flash of swampy green light.
“What?”
Wisps of smoke drifted away from my face, revealing a darkened circular room with an extremely high ceiling. The voice came out of nowhere, but it sounded artificial and clunky. As my visual sensors came into focus, I could zoom in and clearly see... people... in small exposed chambers lining the edges of the room. As I tilted my head upward, I saw floor after floor of identical chambers, each housing one unconscious occupant.
I didn’t see a light source, but the floor was covered with a flowing, shimmering green mist. The mist obscured my view of the floor, so I was unable to determine its composition, although it felt somewhat metallic. What kind of afterlife was this?
“State out designation.”
For the first time, I noticed the shadowy figure standing right in front of me. I didn’t notice her before, because I was so busy staring at the people encased in the wall. This particular being was extremely pale, hairless, covered in cybernetic gadgetry...
“Oh, great. I’m in the Borg afterlife. I had no idea the Borg even had an afterlife. Okay, who are you?”
“State our designation.”
“State your designation.”
“We are Negative One of Negative One, Primary Facilitator of Unimatrix Negative One.”
“Sweet Jiminy! The Borg have assimilated negative numbers! Will their madness never end?!”
“State our designation.”
I sighed, turning from the drone. “This day has been so unproductive.” Bending back over to the drone, I decided to tell my whole story to a disinterested stranger who probably wouldn’t understand a word of it. “I came to the afterlife with one simple dream.”
I looked away from the drone and clasped a fist, striking my chest. Then I lilted my head up slightly and activated my tear ducts. “I wanted to find someone... anyone with a super, amazing catch phrase... to be my sidekick and... and help me win the fourth challenge.” I really put on the waterworks now. “But I have been through every pocket of metaphysics in this universe ten times over, and I haven’t found a single sidekick worthy of such a great bureau chief as I.”
“State our designation.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll just leave you to your mindless tasks and go throw in the towel...” Then it hit me like ten thousand bolts of super-heated plasma.
“You!”
“State our designation.”
“Happy day! Finally, someone with an annoying catchphrase! And a Borg to boot! A Borg spirit!” All my prayers had been answered indirectly, in a roundabout manner!
“State our designation.”
“My designation is Four of... Two?”
For the first time, her face had what looked like an emotion on it.
“Index out of bounds.”
“Oh. Then try checking... Zero of Zero?”
This time the response was more pronounced; she dropped to the ground and started reciting a sequence of prime numbers and communication protocols. The bottom lid of her one organic eye convulsed in an unnatural manner and she rocked her head back and forth.
“Division error, division error, division error, begin test one three five seven eleven thirteen...”
“From Unimatrix ‘H.’”
“P- p- parse!”
There was a loud snapping sound and she stopped moving. Grabbing one of her legs, I dragged the drone over to the building’s vinculum and started pressing buttons.
“My awesometronic brain tells me... this button activates the transporters!”
The alcove started to glow, a transport timer counting down in Borg.
“I think I’m going to call you... Oregon Trail.”
A low humming sound enveloped us, followed by a flash of swampy green light.
posted by Gyrobo at 12:02 AM
8 Comments:
oh my not a borg
piglet runs aroun and then runs up Jon's torso and hides under his hat "Oh dear me Oh dear oh dear"
I grabs the spear
look at Captian P he is quivering
Oregan Trail? How Borg-a-licious.
Little known fact:
While the Borg are notorious as destroyers of species and planets, they have also conquered every Mecc game ever made.
Sorry, I only play first person shooters.
As always, you leave me speechless and reaching for an asprin & stiff drink
Ouch! We don't want the Borg around here.
I've already reprogrammed her with every form of combat known to botfly larva.
But botfly larva is usually found only in wild rabbits, so I can not try the Borg in front of you. But being an all knowing Robot Clown you would have known I knew that and would not have put the Borg in front of you, so I can trust the Borg in front of me. But Then again the botfly larva is only found in Mexico and Central America, so I can not try the Borg in front of you. But you would have know I would not eat rabbit from El Salvador, so I can not try the Borg in front of me …
Oh I see you little plan, you never intended me to try out your Borg sidekick. I see through you little robot clone, I’ve read you book you magnificent bastard. You’ll never take me by surprise again.
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