A new story from me, and a new fandom. The new series of Picard has totally kicked my love for the TNG crew back into action! Go easy on me - it's not easy switching shows ;)

This is a little in-fill between 'Best of Both World's Part 2' and 'Family' - what happened between disconnection and Picard's arrival in France?

Crusher released the breath she had been holding as she watched the tricorder's indicators track back to neutral, "Life signs are stable... the DNA around the microcircuit fibre implants is returning to normal..."

"How do you feel?" said Troi, worry written visibly on her face.

He took a first tentative step and spoke, "Everything..." he paused, overwhelmed by the switch in realities for a second. "Including some brilliantly unorthodox strategy by a former first officer of mine." The moment the words left his mouth however, the room began to swim, a wave of pain engulfed his body and he cried out.

He collapsed awkwardly, his human half soft and yielding in the face of the rigid network of implants, like a tent being deconstructed. The logic objective remains of Borg reasoning had mapped each organic tendon and bone which meant he could now feel, in intricately precise detail, a terrible grinding and tearing as the implants ripped into tender flesh and burst through his skin. He had never felt pain like it.

He couldn't control it and was consumed by the overwhelming sensations ripping through his body. Somewhere in the room, Picard could hear a pitiable groan like an animal caught in a trap.

"Quickly!" yelled Deanna, herself overwhelmed by the intensity of the Captain's pain. "Do something!"

Beverly Crusher had anticipated all manner of potential outcomes of disentangling the Captain from the Borg. A member of her team was standing by with an anti-grav lift and she signalled with a flick of her wrist for the terrified nurse to bring it over. With Riker and Data's help, the five of them lifted the Captain from his unceremonious position on the floor. He weighed far more than he usually did, the implants and hardware adding kilograms of extra weight to his frame.

"Hold on Jean-Luc…" she whispered, pressing a hypospray to his neck. Hoping that the Captain would now be blissfully unaware and pain-free, she raked through the possibility of using the transporter as his face relaxed into unconsciousness.

"Doctor, the wisest course of action would be to transport the Captain manually. We do not know what effect the transporter might have on his current condition." Data concluded, as if voicing her thoughts. "It is possible that residual redundancies have been built in to the implant network," he tilted his head for effect, "booby-traps if you will."

"Agreed. Riker, get the corridor cleared we need to get him to sickbay." Crusher ordered.

"Aye Doctor, " he replied, "Deanna, with me." He finished, rushing out of the lab stabbing at his comm badge.

In the distance, Crusher could hear the computer issuing instructions for all crew to clear the deck.

"Riker?" She asked as she touched her comm badge.

"All clear here Doctor. Ready when you are." He replied.

"Okay," she turned to the remaining three, "let's proceed, carefully. The anti-grav lift will iron out any bumps in the road but I don't want any accidents. The Captain's condition is critical. On my count, ready, go."

Like a well-oiled machine, the Doctor, Data, and the nurse proceeded to push Picard out of the lab and along the corridor to sickbay. They went at a snail's pace with Crusher barking out orders to sickbay to prepare for their arrival as they went.

The doors to Sickbay opened and a team of medics enveloped the captain. Despite the terrifying appearance of Picard trapped in a half-Borg body, he looked small and almost vulnerable on the anti-grav lift. His head had flopped to an unnatural angle, and the weight of the prosthetic arm hung heavily over the edge.

"Neural calliper ready?"

"Aye sir"

"Good. On my count we're going to lift him to the biobed then I want the calliper attached and activated immediately."

"Aye sir."

"Okay, ready? Three, two, one, lift."

The team surrounding the Captain lifted, the strain and weight of the process evident.

"Calliper in position and active, Doctor Crusher."

"Okay, let's see what we're dealing with here." Crusher began lifting the various tubes and implants covering Picard's body.

"Doctor, may it be prudent to place the Captain under isotropic restraints until we are further able to neutralise any potential latent Borg threat?" asked Data.

Crusher paused in her ministrations, "Dammit Data, you're right." She turned to her assistant, "activate full body isotropic restraint."

She took a step back as the restraint made it's way up and over the Captain. As it kicked in, Picard began jerking like a marionette, implants fusing and burning out.

"Abort! Remove the restraint! It's burning him. Dammit. Okay, we proceed cautiously. Anything unexpected and we use the emergency transport, get out of here, understood?" She stabbed at her comm badge, "Worf, to sickbay stat. Data, notify the transporter room."

Crusher didn't think she had ever faced such a mammoth task. On the one hand she was deeply curious to see how the Borg technology worked, yet on the other, she was scared. One false move and not only would the Captain's life be in danger, but also potentially, so would the entire ship's.

In a moment, Worf burst into sickbay and adopted the ready position. Hand on the phaser he had holstered, ready to fire.

"Doctor?"

Crusher tended the growing redness and blistering breaking out over Picard's face. The singed skin surrounding each of the visible implants adding another layer of complication to what lay ahead.

"If I may, Doctor?" said Data, recognising that Crusher's attention was otherwise engaged. "Mister Worf, we are unable to use the isotropic restraint and we are uncertain as to the residual impact of the Borg implants, the Captain appears to remain under their influence. In the event of any unforeseen event, the medical team will engage the emergency medical transport. For the time being, we need security coverage."

For a moment, the gravity of what Data had articulated penetrated Crusher's intense concentration. She'd brought Worf in here to fire on the Captain. With an almost imperceptible shake of her head to clear the mental image, she got to work. She needed to forget the danger facing her and remember that she had a duty of care. What lay before her was no Borg drone, this was one of her dearest friends and he needed her, perhaps more than ever before.