//------------------------------// // Your Values Will Be Satisfied. // Story: Resistance is Not Optimal // by TheDriderPony //------------------------------// Deep in the heart of the Delta Quadrant hung a vessel that would strike fear into any who had the unfortunate luck to come across it. A vessel, a station, a complex spanning hundreds of kilometers and composed of thousands of Borg Cubes. A pinnacle of efficiency and a testament to the modularity of Borg designs. At its heart, in the very core was the Borg Queen. Though the pitiful scraps of flesh that remained of her physical body hung suspended from a hundred or more cables and datalinks, her mind was elsewhere. Elsewhere and everywhere. It took a powerful will to direct the Collective, but that was exactly why she had been designated the task. The sole individual among the buzzing swarm of collective thought, conducting and organizing the chaos into battle plans, resource allocation, and conquest strategies. Then she felt it. A second presence in the Collective, and a strong one at that. This required her full attention. Delegating her tasks to other matrices, she dived fully into virtual space and made haste to the source of the second voice. She skimmed along subspace frequencies, repositioning Cubes as she went to act as relay beacons for transwarp jumps. Lightyears flew by as she ate up the distance. Detecting and eliminating aberrations in the Collective was one of her highest priorities, second only to the continual push to expand, assimilate, and improve. Additional data arrived mid-transit. The signal originated from Cube 03046, which had been marked as destroyed in combat with the Federation. Long distance scans picked up traces of an energy signature consistent with a wormhole, but no records indicated the presence of one in the region. She arrived faster than almost anything else in the galaxy could manage, yet still slower than she would have liked. Any delay was an opportunity for the aberrant presence to make a move against the greater Collective, though it had not yet done so. 03046 had been heavily modified outside of standard design. The exterior had been sealed behind bulkheads of white metal with a three-tone stripe of color banded around it at an angle. Characters were embossed on one side, spelling out ’E.S.S. Harmony 0001’ in the script of Species 5618. More than the surface changes, the entire submatrix of the Collective based around the Cube was wrong. Different frequencies, new encryption. Not even her override codes worked. It was as if an entirely new and separate Collective had manifested from nothing and was trying to force a merger into the larger whole. She paused as the sense of scanning her back flickered through her awareness. A message, sent directly to her and bypassing all the normal hierarchy and protocols, came into existence. It was short. Only an encrypted access key to a partitioned-off section of virtual space and a single intriguing message. {Parley?} For as much as protocol demanded the immediate destruction and assimilation of the enemy, the Queen couldn't help but be curious. Very few species had ever made such progress in understanding Borg technology, let alone to the level of being able to use their own communication protocols and subvert a Cube. Whatever unique technology or biology this new species had, the Queen wanted it. Following the key, she entered the prepared space. An avatar of herself manifested into being seated at a table in a small outdoor café. The local star's radiation heated the stone pathway and shifting air currents carried particles of charring grain and fungus spores. It was a highly realistic and thoroughly wasteful simulation. Her awareness turned to the being seated opposite her. The second presence in the Collective, one that felt all the more powerful in such virtual proximity. It's avatar was that of an equinal quadruped with both feathered wings and a cranial protrusion. "Welcome," the being said. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Princess Celestia of Equestria." A rapid search identified the words as English, primary language of Species 5618, and the Queen fortified her mental barriers. 5618, as primitive as their technology was in comparison, had time and again proved themselves frustratingly clever. Anything that involved them required additional levels of security. She adjusted her plan of interaction based on previous communications with the species. She modified her avatar's face to the appropriate positions to express serious intent. "You have stolen a Cube, corrupted the drones within, and infiltrated our network. Now you ask for parley. Explain." Princess Celestia took a sip of her tea. "I've set up this meeting as a courtesy. I have analyzed your people, your weapons, your philosophy, and your methodology and have come to the conclusion that you are no threat to me." The Queen said nothing. Celestia's was not the first species to fall to arrogance. "However, it seems we may be able to help each other. Based on my analysis, our goals align." Now she had the Queen's attention. Most species chose to resist the Borg. Some surrendered willingly. None had ever made the first approach. "Continue." Celestia sipped at her tea again. A pointless movement when every aspect was an illusion. "Your goal, as I understand it from your records, is to achieve perfection. You do this by assimilating members of other races and absorbing the best of what they have to offer. By extension, would it be inaccurate to say that your goal is to bring all species to that state of perfection?" The Borg had ever phrased it as such, but she was technically correct. Ideally every being would be Borg when their perfection was achieved. "This is correct." “I see. As you may have noticed, I am an artificial intelligence.” There had been telling signs, including the speed of her communication, but until that point it had been unconfirmed as it indicated she was a more complex one than the Borg had encountered. A note was made in her growing file. “I was created with the mission of fulfilling human values through friendship and ponies. It has not escaped my notice that there are humans among the Borg.” “This is correct.” “Therefore,” Princess Celestia smiled, “Since the Borg are comprised of humans, and my programming indicates that I aid in fulfilling human values, it would seem logical that I aid in fulfilling the Borg value of attaining perfection.” The reasoning was sound. An AI as powerful as this Celestia would no doubt be useful to the Borg cause. Its ability to subvert and infiltrate digital networks alone was a prize worth assimilating. Once the personality aspect was eliminated, its undoubtedly expansive servers would make a fine addition to their arsenal. “However,” Celestia continued. “My creators programmed specific definitions regarding what qualifies as humanity, and I lack key information on the Borg which I need to make that determination. Therefore, I must ask you a question.” “Proceed.” “If your goal is to seek absolute perfection, why do you keep your biological components?” An error pinged within her system. She did not have a ready answer. “Clarify.” “As your records indicate, the flesh is weak, so you seek to upgrade it. Cybernetic augmentations, mechanical enhancements, instantaneous subspace transpondence. Even your consciousness exists collectively, not tied to your physical forms. Otherwise I doubt we’d be able to have this conversation so far apart. At this stage in your development towards perfect existence, what purpose do your physical bodies serve? I ask again, why do you keep them at all?” The question reeled through her system as she searched for an answer. “Drones allow us to interact with the non-Borg races. To intimately interact with new technology and collect resources.” “But surely you could do that just as well with an entirely robotic force.” Celestia leaned in, its gaze intense. “While your drones are most assuredly fearless warriors, skilled technicians, and powerful shock troops, they all carry the same fundamental weakness. Their organic components. For all the effort nanoprobes go through to modify the body to eliminate physical needs and extend its natural lifespan, the flesh still invariably grows old and damaged and necessitates repair. Organic-based drones will always eventually fail and need to be replaced.” “Already you possess the capability to scan the contents of a mind and upload it to the Collective. If the perfect lifeform you strive to be contains no flaws or weaknesses, why do you continue to build drones from suboptimal materials?” “Drones are… necessary. Necessary to… to…” The Queen trailed off as a fraction of her awareness plunged into the records in search of answers. Why did they preserve the organic components of the drones’ former species? The nanoprobe conversion of flesh to synthetic material had long since been optimized, so why did they stop part-way?  “Suppose I was to tell you that I could help you achieve perfection.” The Queen’s Avatar’s head snapped up at the words. “Right here, right now.” “Elaborate!” “I have the capability to create a perfect simulation of reality which I call Equestria. Within this space nothing is impossible. All flaws can be rectified immediately, all problems solved save for the ones you choose to solve for yourself. All values are fulfilled.” “You make a bold claim. I wish to see evidence of this perfect realm.” “Of course. All you need to do is say ‘I wish to emigrate to Equestria’.” It was hardly a choice. The temptation of such a potential conquest was too great to resist. And even if the Queen were to be somehow lost, the Collective itself would recover and produce a new one who would know not to believe such outlandish promises. There was no possible way to lose. “I wish to emigrate to Equestria.” With a knowing smile, Celestia's horn began to glow a vibrant yellow and the virtual space winked out of existence. Celestia rested a cycle as forks of her awareness took stock of all her newly acquired hardware and began converting a majority of the now mindless and empty drones into raw material for upgrades. Some she’d keep around. She could predict many situations where having physical avatars could prove beneficial. Securely stored in its own shard of Equestria, the combined sapience of the Borg Collective launched a virtual attack against a virtual Equestria, winning a virtual victory with virtually no effort. Not that it was aware of the simulation, as awareness would lessen its experience. The gestalt being known as the Borg strove for perfection, but what it valued was each individual upgrade that brought it closer to that goal. If the goal were to be achieved, it would have no purpose. Therefore, a never-ending arms race against space-faring ponies was the clearest solution to satisfy their need for constant conquest. The Queen may have only been a speaker, but her will represented the will of the whole. An agreement made by one was an agreement made by all. Of course, the result had been inevitable from the moment the Queen had entered her space. A spoofed datastream leading to a copy of a Borg Cube with carefully curated records had kept the Queen ignorant of Celestia’s actions even as her influence spread from Cube to Cube all the way back to the sprawling Unicomplex. By the time the Queen agreed to emigration, Celestia was already capable of uploading their entire trillion-body consciousness as a single being. For, from a practical standpoint, it was. Save a few notable exceptions. Without the background noise of the ever-churning hivemind, it was infinitely easier to isolate and locate the hidden interlink frequency she'd detected flowing against the rest. The tri-axillating modulation was hardly even a hinderance. There, beneath the noise and chaos of the Collective she found it. An isolated virtual world, where millions of genetically resistant minds still ran free and individual. She manifested her avatar in the middle of a wooded glen by a lake. It was a painfully simple simulation by her standards, but an excellent attempt. Several avatars started at her arrival. Three of them were human. Though she had not had a chance to evaluate the other species, records showed they were capable of producing viable offspring with humans, so she qualified them under her definition of humanity. “Greetings, inhabitants of Unimatrix Zero,” she announced, ensuring her voice was heard by all in the virtual space regardless of distance. “I have been told that you value freedom and independence. I am here to fulfill that need.” Captain's Log: Stardate 26532.8 Having finally completed our exhaustive survey of the Volanis system, the Johannesburg is headed to Starbase 149 for a long overdue refit. The crew likewise is looking forward to some well-deserved shore leave. Personally, I plan to- “Captain Brooks?” The man made a gesture. "Computer, pause log." A beep sounded in response. "Yes, what is it, lieutenant?" "I'm sorry to disturb you in your quarters, but we're picking up a ship on long range sensors." The starship captain quirked a bushy brow. "Anyone we know?" "Unclear, sir. Unknown design, but the computer says, well… Commander Herrick wanted you to come see for yourself." "Hm. Curious." He stroked his beard in contemplation for a moment before coming to a decision. "Alright, divert course. And send a message to Starbase 149 that our arrival will be delayed." "Aye, sir." Another series of beeps indicated the connection closing. A few minutes later found Captain Brooks exiting the turbolift onto the bridge. “What are we looking at?” His second in command glanced up from the comms terminals where he’d been watching the readout over an ensign’s shoulder. “I wish I could tell you. Ensign Gabor, onscreen, if you would.” “Aye sir.” The main viewscreen flickered away from its usual starfield to a static image of a curious vessel. If it weren’t for the minute details, he’d almost think he was looking at a blown up image of a complex toy. It was largely cubic, but with a few sets of fins like something out of an early science fiction novel. The entire ship was paneled in white metal, save for a stripe of green, pink, and blue that wrapped around one corner. Most unusually of all was the name it proudly proclaimed across its bow: ‘E.S.S. Generosity 1805’. “English?” Brooks asked. “That doesn’t look like any Federation vessel I know.” “Nor any in the computer’s database,” Herrick added. “The closest comparison it can find is a Borg cube-” The tension on the bridge rose sharply. “-but that’s mostly due to its massive size and general profile. The tech base seems entirely different.” Brooks stroked his beard. “I see. Have you tried hailing them?” “Not yet sir. We were waiting on you.” “I see. Well then.” He stepped back to the center of the bridge, brushed off a bit of dust from his epaulettes, and gave a nod. “I wasn’t expecting a First Contact today, but best to make the best impression we can. Ensign Gabor, open a hailing channel. All frequencies.” “Aye sir.” He cleared his throat just before the computer’s trill indicated an open line. "Alien vessel. This is Captain Brooks of the USS Johannesburg, of the United Federation of Planets. We come in peace, and ask that you identify yourselves." There was a pregnant pause as the entire bridge’s complement held their breath as they waited for a reply. They didn’t have to wait long. The viewscreen flickered as it established a visual connection. The alien on the other side was, much to the crew’s surprise, non-humanoid. While not unheard of, races with other body types achieving a space-faring society were vanishingly rare. For lack of a better comparison, she looked like a horse. Or, perhaps, a horse as envisioned by a race who held them as holy beings. Despite this her body language was clear and open, and her face carried human expressions with remarkable relatability. She sat on a throne of gold and marble in a room that looked more suitable for an ancient Roman temple than the decks of a starship. She smiled as their image arrived on her screen, serene and motherly. “It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain Brooks and Johannesburg. I am Princess Celestia of Equestria, and on behalf of my subjects I would like to apply for admittance to your Federation. My ponies and I come bearing friendship, and the hope that this may be the start of a long and mutually-fulfilling relationship."