Content warning for some very mild bdsm, bondage, rough-stuff at the end.
Chapter Eleven
The instant Hugh set eyes upon Jean-Luc, he could tell that something was different. Something was off.
For a brief second, Hugh stood on the Sirena's transporter pad, and stared at Jean-Luc in startled bewilderment. Then, he seemed to remember his manners, and broke out in a warm grin.
"Admiral!" he said, stepping off the pad and approaching Jean-Luc, arms wide.
"Ohoho!" Jean-Luc gave a hearty laugh as he accepted Hugh's embrace.
They held each other for a moment, and then they broke apart, and Jean-Luc looked Hugh up and down in disbelief. "How is this possible?" he asked. "You died on the Artifact..."
Hugh nodded. "But Seven and the other xBs were able to bring me back to life..." he said.
Of course, Jean-Luc had once been Locutus, and he knew a great deal of what Borg technology was capable of. "They...they used the Borg nanoprobes to regenerate your body..."
Hugh gave a sly smile. "I can tell you right now, the Romulans spent twenty years trying very hard to crack that particular nut," he said. "But we managed to keep a few secrets from them. Anyway, the xBs resurrected me a few days ago. I'm happy to say that we were able to recover the majority of our people that were murdered by the Romulans..."
Picard gave a broad smile at this. There had been enough bad news, lately – any good news at all was welcome. "Splendid," he said.
Then, Hugh's expression became a little more serious. "Admiral, Seven told me that Doctor Soji Asha and Elnor had been badly injured, recently..."
"Ah, yes..." Jean-Luc realized that Hugh had missed out on a lot of recent developments, and so he readied himself to bring him up to speed. "Elnor and Doctor Asha were quite badly hurt while they were serving with the Fenris Rangers," he said. "We transported Doctor Asha to a planet named Coppelius. She is currently receiving the best care from a very capable specialist, and if you'd like, she would be well able to receive a communication from you..."
Hugh nodded. "I'll send a long-range transmission right away," he said. "And Elnor?"
Jean-Luc gave a fond smile. "Elnor is quite a resilient young man," he said. "He is with the Fenris Rangers, now, and he certainly hasn't let his injuries stop him from defending the innocent..."
Hugh had a mental image of Elnor aboard the Artifact, protecting the xBs. "That doesn't surprise me at all," he said.
One other thing. "Ah...Hugh...when you passed away, I took the liberty of sending a message to Captain Geordi La Forge, informing him of your death," Jean-Luc said. "He's living on Earth, at the moment. Right now, he is not aware that you are alive..."
Hugh took this in stride. "I'll send him a transmission as soon as I can," he said.
Soji Asha. Elnor. Geordi La Forge. With all other business taken care of, Jean-Luc decided that it was time to address the elephant in the transporter bay. "Hugh, you...you've probably noticed that something is amiss about me..." he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
Yes, Hugh had indeed noticed. "Usually, I can tell that someone used to be in the Collective just by looking at them" he said. He gazed at Jean-Luc in confusion. "But...it's like every trace of the Borg just vanished from you. What happened?"
Jean-Luc gave Hugh a knowing look. "Hugh...you're not the only one who recently died, and then came back to life..."
Hugh seemed perplexed by this...but it was at that exact moment that Raffi decided to interrupt the conversation.
Raffi was standing off to the side of the two men. She had gone without a girlfriend for three weeks, now, and she was becoming anxious to see Seven again.
"I'mmm sorrrry," Raffi said, her impatience causing the words to become elongated. "Hugh, isn't it?" She pointed a finger at the Artifact, looming large in the Sirena's viewscreen. "Is Seven of Nine on that thing? Where is she?"
Hugh had never met Raffi, and he didn't recognize her...but she was a crewman aboard Admiral Picard's vessel, and so he responded to her with his customary politeness and courtesy.
"At the moment? Seven of Nine is on board the Artifact, yes."
Raffi gave a shrug of her shoulders. "Can I...go over there and see her?" she said.
Hugh adopted an apologetic manner. "Ah...in actual fact, we...the xBs...have decided that we will not be accepting visitors aboard the cube, for the foreseeable future..."
Jean-Luc found this a surprise. "You're not accepting visitors?" he said.
Sorry, but no. "Things are...very hectic, at the moment," he said. "Several areas of the Artifact are undergoing conversion, so...we can't have guests, for now." He turned back to Raffi. "But...I'd be perfectly happy to deliver a message to Seven for you, if you'd like..."
Deliver a message.
Now...Raffi was a fifty-three year-old woman. She liked to think that she was mature. She liked to think that she had perspective.
Still...it stung a little that her girlfriend, whom she had not seen for three weeks, was not beaming over to the Sirena to greet her.
A message.
"Uh...sure," Raffi said, her voice flat. "Just...just tell her that...tell her that Raffi said hi, and I'd like to see her...whenever."
Hugh gave a gracious nod. "I'll tell her that," he said.
Jean-Luc and Hugh resumed their conversation, and Raffi wandered off elsewhere on the Sirena, looking for something to do.
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For a brief while, Raffi was deeply tempted to have a drink.
The replicators were of no use. At Raffi's own request, Cristobal had instructed the Sirena's computer never, ever to provide her with alcohol, under any circumstances. But that wasn't much of an obstacle, really – all she had to do was beam down to the surface of Fenris, and she would find hundreds of thousands of bars and taverns and dives and watering holes, all perfectly willing to sell her booze.
Fortunately, Raffi was soon offered a distraction.
Without invitation, the Emergency Hospitality Hologram suddenly materialized in the middle of Raffi's quarters.
"Sorry for the intrusion," he said, his hands raised to ward off any protests. He was clearly in a flustered state. "But...two very large Borg gentleman just beamed aboard the ship, and they're specifically asking to see you."
This threw Raffi for a loop. "Borg?" she said.
There were, indeed, two xBs waiting at the Sirena's transporter pad. Just as Mister Hospitality had promised, they were both rather large in size, over six feet in height and quite well-built. The Borg Reclamation project had helped them to reclaim much of their individuality, but some nasty scarring still crossed their faces, Borg augmentations protruding here and there out of their flesh. They were quite intimidating.
"Ms. Musiker," said one. This xB possessed only one eye. His voice was halting and robotic. "Our apologies for imposing upon you. Seven of Nine has requested your presence this evening."
Raffi folded her arms in a defensive stance, and stood nervously before the two xBs. It took her a few seconds to process the words she had just heard. "Seven...Seven wants to see me?"
"We will bring you to her," said the second. A good portion of the right side of his face was covered with metallic plating, which made him resemble something like a cybernetic Phantom of the Opera. His voice and affect was every bit as monotone and lifeless as his friend. "Seven of Nine has instructed us to serve as your escorts tonight."
Your escorts. Okkkkaaaaaaayyyyy. Immediately, alarms bells started ringing in Raffi's head. In the lawless hellhole that was the Neutral Zone, kidnapping and abduction had been a major problem for years. The Fenris Rangers expended a lot of time and effort towards rescuing people that had been captured by various gangs and cartels.
Raffi wondered to herself: could this be a kidnapping attempt? I mean, I was on the news a few months ago. If someone did manage to snatch me, I'd be a pretty valuable hostage. I bet I'd fetch a decent ransom...and no, that's not my ego talking...
Then again...the xBs are a pretty tiny minority, and I don't think any of the gangs here have managed to initiate any Borg into their ranks...
Raffi narrowed her eyes, and gave the xBs a suspicious look. "You...you two wanna take me to see Seven?" she said. She jutted a thumb at the Sirena's interior. "Why didn't she just beam over here, herself?"
The xBs stared blankly at her. "Seven of Nine is no longer able to travel freely around the Neutral Zone," said the xB with one eye. "She relies upon us for her safety. Her security is our highest priority."
Raffi frowned at this. "But...Seven's been a Fenris Ranger here for years," she said. "She was never worried about her safety before..."
"The situation has changed," said the xB with the metallic mask. "However, this digression is irrelevant. Seven of Nine has requested your presence this evening. Do you assent, Ms. Musiker?"
Raffi threw up her hands. "Uh...sure," she said. "Where are you taking me, then? You're not gonna blindfold me, are you? Where does Seven want to meet?"
The xB with one eye gazed impassively at her. "Seven of Nine wishes to meet you at Gerona's Cellar," he said.
Raffi's eyes practically launched out of their sockets. "Gerona's Cellar?" she said, her voice rising. "Okay, guys...I can't afford to eat at Gerona's Cellar! The...the appetizers there would put me in debt for a year!"
The xBs did not seem particularly troubled by this. "The bill has already been settled," said the xB with the metallic mask.
Raffi gawped in amazement at the two Borg drones. In her head, mysteries had been stacked upon other mysteries.
Raffi let out a sigh. "Okay then," she said, relenting. "Let's go get dinner..."
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Gerona's Cellar was on Freecloud. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the Neutral Zone – needless to say, it was also one of the most expensive.
If you wanted to eat at Gerona's Cellar, you had to make a reservation. Now, how long would you have to wait for a meal? Well...
If you were, let's say, a military general, or the president of a planet...you would probably have to wait a month or so.
If you were, on the other hand, a renowned holo-novel actor, or a famed musician...you would probably have to only wait a week, thereabouts.
If you were, oooohhh, the monarch of a star system, or the spiritual leader of a massive interstellar religion...they could likely find you a table in a couple of days.
Suffice to say, reservations at the Cellar were highly sought after.
Gerona's Cellar was not actually located within a literal basement – instead, the restaurant was situated in a vast, Klingon-style castle, on an island in the middle of a wide ocean. The name Gerona's Cellar referred to the restaurant's kitchens, which could be found in the dungeons beneath the castle.
As the sun was setting upon the ocean, Raffi Musiker beamed down to Gerona's Cellar.
A greeter was there to receive her – a Bolian in an exquisite black suit. He bade her welcome, and then led her through the castle towards the banquet halls.
Raffi had managed to cobble together a decent-enough outfit for herself. A sharp white suit, with white pearls across her neck. She was rather bitter about the fact that she had no time to do anything special with her hair, but then Seven had sprung this surprise dinner date upon her, and she was left with few options.
Raffi followed the greeter through the halls and corridors of the castle. The place was opulently furnished, suits of Klingon armour lining the passages, bat'leths mounted on walls, sculptures and statues and works of art on display.
It was not long before Raffi noticed something unusual about the castle.
Raffi looked around in puzzlement. There were hardly any other people about. Raffi had been expecting to be rubbing shoulders with elites and well-to-dos, but instead there were none around but the restaurant staff.
"Uh...this place is kinda empty..."
The Bolian greeter nodded. "Madam, you and your companion will be the only individuals dining here tonight," he told her. "Ms. Seven of Nine has bought out every table."
Raffi's jaw fell slack. "She did what?"
Through a set of doors, and then Raffi found herself in a massive banquet hall. The place was sumptuously furnished, marble floors and oak panelings and crimson drapes hanging from the walls and crystal chandeliers filling the space with light. The banquet hall was entirely deserted, countless tables and chairs standing empty and vacant.
At the centre of the hall, Raffi was seated at a table.
"Your companion will be joining you shortly, Madam," the Bolian greeter said, and then he took his leave, and Raffi was left all by herself.
On a balcony at the side of the banquet hall, a group of holographic musicians played their instruments, photonic violins drawn across photonic strings, photonic fingers dancing across photonic keys, gentle and pleasant music drifting across the hall.
In time, a waiter came. "Something to drink, while you wait, Madam?" he asked, offering her a drinks menu.
Raffi tried to decline. "I...I'm a teetotaler," she said.
"That is not a problem, Madam," the waiter said, handing her the menu.
Hmmm, Raffi thought to herself as she scanned the menu. All the drinks here are non-alcoholic. Guess Seven warned them that I'm a recovering junkie, huh?
Raffi ordered some strange concoction made from alien fruit that had been imported from Risa. When it arrived at her table, Raffi put the drink to her lips, and took a sip. Damn, she thought. That tastes nice. Sometimes replicators just don't cut it, huh?
Raffi sat at the table, sipping her drink. She waited.
Seven made her wait just long enough to make an impression.
Raffi turned her head, and saw Seven walking towards her across the hall. The following are the exact thoughts that ran through her head, in order.
Oh, there's Seven.
Hey, she's changed her look! I...I guess she had a makeover during the three weeks she was gone. Yeah. A makeover.
She has really long white hair. REALLY, REALLY long white hair. I guess...I guess she used a dermal regenerator to make her hair grow really fast? And did she dye it a new colour? Silver-white?
Uhhhh...her eyes are completely black. There's these glowing green lights where her irises are meant to be. Ummmm...is she wearing some kinda lenses over her eyes, to give her that look? Y'know, I can totally see that would be a fashion trend on Freecloud, to have your eyes glowing evilly like that...yeah, it must be the latest fashion trend...
OH WOW, her skin is like, UNNATURALLY pale. It's like, white as snow. That doesn't look healthy. Is she sick? Is she...is she just wearing make-up? Is this...is this another Freecloud fashion trend?
Her clothes...oh, man, her clothes look expensive. She's dressed in black from head to toe, and...all of those clothes look like they were custom made by some master tailor. How much did that outfit cost?
Seven of Nine arrived at the table.
"Hello, Raffi," she said, and Raffi had to stifle a scream as Seven's voice seemingly rumbled out of the walls. "We have been looking forward to seeing you again."
Both entranced and terrified, Raffi stood up from her chair. "H-hey, babe!" she said, a nervous-and-yet-excited smile plastered across her face. Her wide eyes seemed to broadcast two messages simultaneously: 'goddamn, you're gorgeous', and 'please don't kill me'.
Elegant and assured, Seven of Nine closed the distance between herself and Raffi. She placed her left hand around Raffi's waist, and gently pulled the woman closer. She placed her right hand on Raffi's chin, and angled her face exactly as she wished.
Seven of Nine leaned in, and placed her lips upon Raffi's.
Nanoprobes. Borg nanoprobes, alive, wriggling, squirming, slithering. They're on your lips. They're on your teeth. They're on your tongue. They swimming about in your spit. They're passing through your skin, and now they're in your blood. They're floating through your veins, through your arteries, through your capillaries. They're seeping through every inch of your body. They're in your heart. They're in your liver. They're in your eyes. They're in your brain. They're dividing and multiplying, infecting every cell, every molecule in your entire being...
With a soft wet smack, Seven of Nine broke away from the kiss. For a moment, she stared at Raffi's face. Glowing green lights were reflected in Raffi's glistening eyes.
"Shall we examine the menu?" Seven asked.
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"Baby, I was worried about you! You were gone for three weeks, and we didn't have any idea where you were! I thought something might have happened to you...did you know that a civil war just broke out in Romulan space? A civil war! Those poor bastards...but I thought maybe you and the other xBs had been caught up in the conflict, or something...I dunno..."
Raffi and Seven were both seated at opposite sides of the table. In front of them lay two plates of incredibly expensive food, painstakingly prepared by an expert chef.
Seven was cutting apart a portion of meat, dividing it into easily-edible chunks. "A Romulan civil war," she mused. "The Romulans have suffered much, these past two decades..." Seven placed a forkful of meat in her mouth, chewed it, and swallowed it. She looked at Raffi. "However, it heartens us to know that someone is concerned with our well-being. Thank you for caring for us, Raffi..."
Raffi gave a frightened smile at this. "You're welcome!" she said.
A few seconds went by without anything being said. Nothing but the music from the orchestra, and the clinking of cutlery on porcelain.
A frantic, panicked monologue was rattling away inside Raffi's skull.
Okay.
Okay.
This is weird. No point denying it – this is pretty damn weird.
Three weeks ago, my girlfriend went off on a trip, and she didn't tell me where she was going. Over the course of those three weeks, the Romulans started slaughtering each other. Now, my girlfriend is back, but it's like she's almost a completely different person.
If I had to guess, I'd say she was abducted, and replaced with an impostor...but, if the woman in front of me is an impostor – if she's trying to convince me that she's Seven of Nine – would she really be acting so damn WEIRD?
What is going on, here? What is going on?
Raffi glanced up nervously from her plate, and then decided to broach the most obvious topic of conversation. "Sooooo..." she said. She gestured towards Seven with the fork in her hand. "You, uh...it looks like you decided to have a bit of a...reinvention, huh? You reinvented yourself..."
Seven simply stared at Raffi with her black eyes. She said nothing.
Raffi kept talking. "You...you grew your hair out long," she remarked. "And you dyed it white. It looks really good! And your eyes...they look really badass! Yeah...I'd kinda like to try that myself...glowing eyes...but I don't think I'd be able to pull it off, heh heh. But you...you make it look really good! Yeah, it makes you look really intimidating! And, and I love the way your skin is all...pale. It's probably the Borg nanoprobes that are doing that, right? Makes you look like a ghost. I mean that in a cool way, though! A cool ghost. Yeah. You look really great, Seven..."
Seven gazed at Raffi, her expression utterly inscrutable. "Thank you," she said.
Raffi shoveled some food into her mouth. She chewed, and swallowed.
Okay, Raffi thought to herself. Okay.
Calm down.
You're a data analyst, Raffi. Just analyze the data, and try to impose some sense on all this nonsense.
The Romulans are now fighting a civil war. A dead Borg drone was brought back to life. Your girlfriend is exhibiting major personality changes. Her freaking voice is not even coming out of her mouth!
This all has to be connected. It has to be connected, somehow.
What's going on, here? What does it all mean?
Raffi decided to speak again.
"Oh, by the way, I, uh...I met Hugh, a few hours ago," she said. "The director of the Borg Reclamation Project? You and him are friends, right? Well, I-I met him, earlier today. He seemed really nice! Yeah...he was really nice. Uh..."
Raffi sucked in air through her teeth. "He was dead, wasn't he? The Zhat Vash killed him. He was dead, and then you brought him back to life. Wow. You, uh...you must have had a really eventful three weeks, huh? Ha ha! First you have a massive image makeover, and then you resurrect a dead guy. Geez. And people say the Borg don't know how to have fun! Heh. Hey, next time you decide to go on one of your trips, maybe invite me along, huh? Sounds crazy..."
Seven's face had a blissful serenity that Raffi honestly found a little unsettling. "Very often, when Borg drones die, it is a simple matter to restore them to life," she said. "However, the Collective considers the resurrection of dead drones a waste of resources. But we...we must be more compassionate. We must be more empathetic. We resurrected Hugh because all Borg drones are important. All Borg drones deserve to live. All must be cared for by their Queen..."
Their Queen...
Oh no, went the voice in Raffi's head. Oh no...
A chill trickled its way through Raffi's entire body. She stared at Seven with a look of horror, for a moment...and then she composed herself, and her expression went neutral.
Now is not the time to lose your damn mind, Raffi thought to herself. Keep talking. Keep gathering information.
"Yeah...uh, babe, that's another thing I've noticed," she said. "You, ummmm...you've started referring to yourself in the plural. We this, we that." Raffi shrugged her shoulders. "Is that...is that gonna be an ongoing thing?"
Seven looked directly at Raffi, and though she did not smile, and though her eyes remained deadened and unemotional, Raffi swore that Seven seemed triumphant, in that moment. As though she had somehow achieved some sort of victory.
"We are Borg," she said. "We are Borg, and however frightened the humans become, we will no longer pretend that we are anything else."
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Dinner was nice. Dessert was nice, also.
After the meal was finished, Seven and Raffi left Gerona's Cellar, and beamed back up to the Artifact.
Well, actually, that's a lie. They did not beam on to the Artifact. They actually beamed onto one of the newer Borg Cubes that Seven had recently acquired. Seven was curious as to whether Raffi would be able to tell the difference – it turns out, she could not.
Raffi found herself in Seven of Nine's personal quarters. Clearly, these quarters had been constructed by Borg – they were wrought from dark metal, were illuminated by green light, and their construction was informed by the efficiency and cold logic of the Collective. However, Seven of Nine's presence had injected a spirit of individuality into this place. These quarters had a certain elegance to them, a certain style. The furniture, the décor, the aesthetic of this chamber – all imbued with the personality of the occupant.
"Do you require refreshments?" Seven asked. "We possess fruit."
Raffi let out a sigh.
Fuck it. Just be honest. Just say what's on your mind.
"Look," Raffi said. She stood in the middle of the chamber, and with her body language, demanded Seven's full attention.
Seven faced Raffi, and looked at her intently.
Raffi tried to find the words. "I...I think I know what's going on here," she began. "The thing is...I've met you before, haven't I?"
Raffi stared into the glowing green fires at the centre of Seven's black eyes.
"You're the Borg Queen," she said, firmly. "Seven...Seven needed to control the Artifact, to kick out all the criminal scumbags in the Neutral Zone, and in order to do that, she needed to become you. And...I think what's happened now, is that you've taken control of her body. You've taken over..."
Seven did not respond to this. She simply stood, and gazed silently at Raffi.
Raffi raised up her hands, as though demonstrating to Seven that she wasn't looking for a fight. "Look, I...I'm not angry, okay?" she said. "I'm not gonna...I'm not gonna cause trouble for you, or whatever. But..."
Raffi gave Seven a beseeching look.
"Could I just talk to my girlfriend, for a few minutes?" she asked. Her voice sounded very small, now. Her eyes were glistening, and quite puppy-like. Raffi didn't want to burst into tears, right now, but she couldn't guarantee that it wouldn't happen. "Just...it's not much to ask, okay? Just let me talk to Seven for a little while. Please..."
Silence, for a few long, long moments.
Seven of Nine stood, and peered at Raffi.
Then, she began advancing towards her.
Raffi watched as the distance between herself and Seven dwindled away to nothing. Was she scared? A little, but it wouldn't last for long.
Seven stood directly in front of Raffi. Her face was formed from steel, and did not betray a single hint of emotion.
With her left hand, Seven took hold of the back of Raffi's neck. She held her steady, so that her head could not move.
With her right hand, Seven placed her forefinger and her middle finger against Raffi's lips. She pushed forward, and her fingers entered into Raffi's mouth.
"Urrkkhh!" Raffi's eyes went wide as she felt Seven's fingers pushing to the back of her mouth. "Urggkk!"
Seven's fingertips brushed against Raffi's tonsils. In an instant, Raffi's gag reflex began to kick in. Standing there in the middle of the chamber, Raffi began to retch.
"Gahhkkk!" Raffi went, choking and inelegant. "Glllrrrkk!"
Oh, but don't misunderstand. Seven of Nine was not attacking Raffi. They'd both done this before, you see. Raffi sometimes liked it when Seven was a little rough with her.
"Gllrrrkkk! Glllrrrkk!" Seven's fingers pushing down her throat, drool escaping from her mouth, Raffi began to lower herself to her knees. She tried to adopt a submissive body language, to show that she was compliant to Seven's will. She kept her arms out wide, to show that she would not resist.
Ice in her veins, Seven stared down at Raffi.
"Take off your clothes," she commanded.
Despite the fact that Seven's hand was jammed in her mouth, Raffi managed to hack out a reply. "Mmm-hmmm," she said. "Gahhkk..."
Raffi started with her jacket. She pulled it off, and allowed it to fall to the floor.