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The Night Before Christmas With The Borg
Enterprise NCC1701-D, Stardate Christmas Eve
'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the Enterprise Not a life form was stirring, of any known size.
The phasers were hung by the transporters with care
In hopes that no Borg ship would ever come there.
The ensigns were nestled all snug in their beds
While millions of nanites danced on their heads.
And Crusher with her scanner and Picard with his book
Had just settled down in a quiet little nook.
When out on the bow there arose such a clatter,
Picard spilled his tea and wondered what was the matter.
Away to a bridge he streaked like a laser,
Woke Worf from his sleep and drew out his phaser.
The hum of the ship as its engines engaged
Gave Picard assurance that all was okay,
When what should appear on the forward displays,
But a large Borg ship with eight tractor beam rays!
It had an ominous look that frightened the crew,
And Picard knew in a moment, it must not be Q.
More rapid than phasers their tractor beams came
And they hailed and shouted each crew member's name!
"Now, Picard! now, Crusher! now, Data and LaForge!
Hey, Guinan! hey, Riker! hey, Deanna and Worf!
Resistance is futile! You all must comply!
You must be assimilated or else you must die!"
As merchant space vessels of slow warp retreat
Are by photons of Warbirds blown to ionic debris,
So would be the Enterprise and all of her crew
If a timely surrender did not quickly ensue.
And then in an instant, Picard heard on the hull
The creaking and jolting of a tractor beam's pull.
As he took a deep breath, and was turning around,
On board beamed a Borg with a soft beaming sound!
He was dressed all in gadgets from his head to his toe,
And his skin was washed out and was whiter than snow.
An arrangement of tools he held tight in his hand,
And he seemed a dark minstrel directing a band.
His optical apertures, oh how they stared!
His implants and armor in his skin were ensnared!
His dull little mouth was drawn rather tight,
And the suit on his frame was as black as the night;
A menacing scanner he produced from his arm,
And the sparks from the consoles set off an alarm!
He spoke not a word, but proceeded to lurk,
And never once paused as he continued his work.
At a bleep from the scanner, the Borg jerked his head
And it made Picard think he had so much to dread!
But the Borg moved along, and returned to his scan,
Then Picard saw his chance to destroy this Borg man.
The captain drew his phaser and shot the Borg dead
And the Borg fell over much quicker than said.
Then Picard gave orders that photons be sent
And the Borg cube's hull was soon broken and bent.
With a jolt and a creak the ship was released,
And the Borg disappeared who had lain there deceased.
Then away the Borg flew as if they were scared
And Picard was puzzled by the attack they had dared.
But he heard them exclaim ere they warped out of sight,
"Happy Christmas, Locutus, and to all a good night!"
by Kevin J. Tupps
At age 34, James Tiberius Kirk became the youngest captain in Star Fleet history. He was also the first captain to bring his starship back in good order after a five-year mission.
All I would tell people is to hold onto what was individual about themselves, not to allow their ambition for success to cause them to try to imitate the success of others. You've got to find it on your own terms.
-- Harrison Ford
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