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OK first – here is my GUESS on the overarching Picard plot (derived from trailer, press, interviews, and hopes)
(1) BETTER BE TRUE: TNG, DS9 and Voyager series and movies happened (no rewritten plots, no non-cannon, or this will die no matter who is cast in it).
(2) Real Borg collective still exists. Several ships?, planets? of them had link severed to Queen/main collective before they were taken out by the future Admiral Janeway and the virus. They’ve been in hiding/regrouping and “sneaking closer” looking for the “new true queen”. They can sense her. They can sense ALL former drones too - anyone with any implants at all. The young lady in the trailer (obviously teens, obviously physically blessed and the target of good and bad intensions) is the daughter of the previous Borg Queen (I’d say egg replaced with Borg Queen genetic material and the male…. Either Data (fully functional) or Picard as she was incredibly attracted to both of them. Heck – how about the egg came from Seven or even Janeway taken and saved on ice). So – Daughter of Borg Queen (DBQ) – being brought up remotely by xxxx(no idea) starting to get images/voices in her head as the Borg start centering in on her after all these years. Maybe rather than daughter – we think “partial clone” of Borg Queen where some of her memories have also been transferred (or she has internal circuitry triggered by hormones that release the Borg Queen memories). She sees Picard in her dreams and seeks him out…
(3) Parallel – some of the former Borg (Hugh too??) note some of the other former Borg have disappeared. Maybe Hugh/others have not had their ability to link to the collective electronics removed as well as possible or they simply don’t know/find all the link. One of them (Hugh?? Other?) hears a whisper of the collective and their quest for DBQ and runs to factions that still believe there could be viable Borg out there. Seven has been a unifying force of former Borg. Seven has tried to be efficient at becoming human. She “found herself” once on Earth. None of the C/7 stuff by the way. She has a different mate for the last decade.
(4) Picard approached by DBQ and Seven and goes out to investigate whether the Borg have returned. He does not want to see anyone persecuted (neither DBQ or any former drones nor even people like himself or Janeway who had been assimilated but fully purged off all implants). He protects DBQ from bad ppl on both sides and goes quietly to find out truth for himself.
Now my ONE SHOT.
The concerned former-drone walked off the neighborhood transporter porter pad into the cool evening. The sky had darkened considerably since she had started home from her conversation with Jean Luc Picard as had her own thoughts.
Her mind was whirling with issues of old. Too many times the word Borg in the last few hours. Glancing around.. were eyes looking at her again? Were they angry or afraid of her? Concerns she’d not had in over a decade.
No, they weren’t staring at her implants. Indeed a few nodded in simple recognition and welcome. They were unaware of the issue out in space and she was not the only former-Borg here on Earth by far. She’d been a catalyst to ensure former-drones (as Jean Luc and Kathryn had also been) were not mistreated or demeaned. So it was logical that Hugh and others had come to tell her some startling theories. However, they lacked proof. She had not felt or sensed anything herself. But when she got notice of Jean Luc poking around, she had to go see him.
So old thoughts of Borg rattled in her head stiffening her posture as she walked to their apartment. She’d worked hard to rid herself of the control that was part of being a drone. The control of emotions, the control of movement, the control of actions and phrases. She had started on that path on Voyager, but the following years on Earth had been even more critical. Billions of people rather than just over 100. A free environment full of wonders beyond just Star Fleet and a ship. The human collective that communicated with words and vision. As Jean Luc had to prove his loyalty after being Locutus, she had to prove hers (with the full support and testimony of her Voyager shipmates) to a degree but also she’d seen issues with the other liberated drones. Making her appearance, voice, and behavior more human meant her words were met with more sympathy and understanding. It was a planned tactic that had worked.
It was a means to also discover herself. Discover that she had her own identity but also wanted a life-mate. She didn’t need a collective in her head, but she wanted one soul in her heart. She came to recognize what her true feelings were. It had taken some time to separate them out against what others had expected of her and then determination and courage to act on them. Starting with her own name. Some other’s expectations for her to take on Annika while she finally insisted on being called Seven. Not to place the time as a drone over the name her parents had given her, but because it was how she had been reborn into this new collective of humanity. It had all led to figuring out who matched her. Who she wanted. She studied courting rituals over time, both virtually and out in the world. Then, it had taken a year of careful courting before their first date, six months after that before their first weekend together and another year before they married.
They had both wanted an apartment on the ground floor with a small area in back for gardening and a view to watch the sun rise and set. Most people never touched real dirt gardening anymore or appreciated quiet and the smells of outdoors, but they both did. It took a while but they found the perfect location.
However, it had been too quiet lately and this had enhanced the Borg memories driven by the former-drone’s interaction with Hugh and Jean Luc. She needed her collective of two to be together again. Her mate had agreed to a rare mission off-planet and had been gone for over two weeks with one more planned.
The biometric scanner of the large apartment let her in automatically.
Immediately, enhanced senses kicked in. The lighting was altered from expected settings. She could smell and hear coffee brewing. She could hear the faint gurgle of the actual water bathtub draining. All special features, even if old fashioned, to make her mate comfortable.
The darkened images faded away as her heart sped up and she smiled. She place her shoulder bag on the entry table along with her quickly stripped jacket and looked in a nearby mirror to run her fingers through her hair.
Her personal collective was home early.
“Computer – raise the temperature of the domicile by 1.7 degrees.” Her mate liked it a little warmer and she would be chilly after the bath.
Seven watched from the shadows outside the entry as bare feet padded into the kitchen.
A pink, satin robe clad figure walked in clamping damp hair into a single pony tail. The hair was no longer pure auburn red. It was well peppered with grey and white now and she’d let it grow a little longer over time. Seven loved to run her fingers through it. She hoped it was part of the reason her partner had grown it longer.
The former drone watched as the Admiral retrieved a coffee cup and saucer from the cabinet and poured a small amount of the dark, strong brew into it. She had insisted to Seven that no replicator could ever be as good as real grown beans, fresh ground and steeped with spring water at just the right temperature. Seven smiled at the argument over the chemical analysis she ran between replicated coffee and the brewed and how there didn’t seem to be a difference. To have a mate to debate all kinds of science with was a pleasure.
The Admiral turned back to the center counter with her coffee, picked up a datapad and began flipping through something.
Seven kept admiring her older partner from the shadows. As compared to the lean and desperate years of stress on Voyager and its impact on Kathryn, she was more comfortable now. Pounding games of Velocity, sleepless nights and fighting a new species trying to kill them every few days were now replaced with yoga, speed walking, swimming, gardening and holographic target practice. The choice between supplements, limited replicated meals and Neelix’s cooking replaced with fresh grown produce and some cooking lessons for them both. Hips a little wider, waist more flush, time and gravity slowly impacting them both. And Seven would not have it any other way. To grow old with the love she had felt over the course of their relationship was more than she could have ever dreamed. Kathryn was more attractive to her than at any time before and she would always be. She worshiped every change as they were experienced together and in the open.
She needed her now. She needed to feel close to her. To be one with her. Discussing Jean Luc would come later.
Seven let out a happy sigh and entered the room making sure to make some noise so that Kathryn would not be startled. Wrapping her arms from behind around a silk-clad waist she said, “You have returned ahead of schedule. I would have been at the transporter pad to greet you if I had known.”
Kathryn smiled and put down the datapad and cup although she noted Seven’s speech seemed a little off. She placed her hands over her wife’s and leaned back into the warm body closing her eyes and relishing the closeness. Seven leaned to place a gentle kiss on her wife’s temple. The slightly shorter lady pulled their arms open, quickly rotated and gazed up, the meaning clear.
After a few minutes of passionate kissing, the Admiral finally leaned back, wrapped her arms around the taller blonde’s neck and spoke, “Once I left, I found they’d padded the schedule with few gratuitous official dinners and press features. I pulled the negotiations forward and cut the fluff. Then I forced them to talk through issues in full lockdown. I had the most gorgeous woman in the quadrant to get back to. I’d actually planned to surprise you but turned out you were out.”
Not wanting to have any further discussion on where she had been when Kathryn arrived, Seven smiled and leaned back down to continue their interlude. She increased the intensity quickly the faint taste of coffee spurring her on. Long arms sent nimble fingers down to press their hips together.
After some time, Kathryn pulled back gasping for breath. Through the haze, she looked into Seven’s blue eyes, their color almost matching her own. She saw something she’d not seen in awhile in them. A hint of desperation. Seven needed her.
Guessing on the cause, she husked, “I missed you too.”
Seven had no words in her head now, only a need to be with her mate, to feel human, to be human.
Plump lips resumed their quest. Tongues dueled. Hands were wandering… seeking…. Seven pressed forward until her wife was firmly sandwiched against counter. The Admiral ran her fingers again and again through Seven’ slightly wavy locks, sometimes yanking to elicit a moan from her partner. Kathryn felt the pull of her hair clamp being removed. One hand flowed through damp strands while the other came around front grabbing haphazardly at the belt of her robe. The smooth material untied easily and the hand slipped inside to drag against warm skin.
Kathryn could feel the metal-cased fingertips grazing her hip and continue back around to her upper buttock. Seven was careful with her more powerful appendage as over the years she’d left reminders of their passion on her mate’s skin. The robe opened and more of the freshly washed skin rubbed against the course material of Seven’s attire. In the meantime, an almost frantic mouth was starting to roam.
Seven pressed forward, feeling the heated skin and rapid breathing of her partner reacting how she wanted. She could hear the Admiral’s heart rate had elevated by 45.5%. Her own heart rate was elevated also, the best of engineering skills figuring out how to relax the bodily function controls within her implants. Allowing Kathryn to take in some needed oxygen, Seven kissed and sucked along a defined jawline and latched onto an available earlobe. Strong arms wrapped around to circle the back of Kathryn’s thighs and with one swift lift, her wife’s feet left the floor.
The Admiral latched on to her mate with her arms and legs, expecting to be carried to the bedroom. She buried her face into an exposed neck, taking this opportunity to finally do a bit of biting and licking on her own. However, after only a few steps, she felt a jerk and heard the scraping of a chair being kicked out of the way and she was deposited down on a cold surface. Seven pulled back forcing Kathryn’s arms and legs to release and those same strong arms guided her carefully down onto the flat surface.
“Seven…., we eat on this table….” she gasped out as chills ran up and down her heated body. Seven leaned down to kiss and nip down the Admiral’s torso through the open robe.
“And your point is?...” came the tart, breathy reply as she quickly nibbled on both nipples and then pulled back to pushed both legs wide open fully revealing the flush, wet center of her wife’s flower, the little tuft of auburn and grey hair above.
She knew this was going to be intense and for now she needed to let Seven lead. She’d seen it in her partner’s eyes. A warm tongue started in and Kathryn grabbed one of her owns breasts, the electricity running between both erogenous zones at warp speed. The other hand reached down to flick between her abdomen, Seven’s hair, a thigh, the table….wherever its own mind led it as guttural sounds were on the rise.
It was flowing.. the connection.. the signals made from all senses and not just subspace communication received at an implant. That feeling of being so joined with someone that you’re in each other’s heads. Drinking in her wife’s essence. Tasting it. Smelling it. Being covered in it. Tickling along wet ridges then trailing the pointy end of the tongue from her entrance to just short of the most explosive zone. Repeat, sometimes flicking the entrance a bit. The feedback of Kathryn responding with wilder and wilder abandon. The low toned moans, the hissing, the breathing hitching, the hips undulating, the legs kicking or clamping, a hand flying by periodically. It was hot and messy.. it was free and beautifully human.
She’d prepared her enough, not overstimulating to bring her mate to orgasm too fast, but wanting to ensure she was well lubricated. Releasing the gentle grip she had on one of the legs, Seven slowly inserted two enhanced fingers while flattening her tongue against swollen tissues. She listened to her mate for any signs of discomfort. There were none, only a slow low hmm grounding out of the Admiral’s throat. She felt the heat, the muscles and silky walls gripping, the thick slippery lubrication easing the penetration. They were together. Seven hummed her own sound of satisfaction into the sensitized region causing Kathryn to arc her back some and gasp.
Pushing the one leg she still had a hand on up even more, Seven leaned up to look at her fingers buried in Kathryn’s sweet, wet center. This interlude angle was not doing the also-aging, former-drone’s back any good, but there was no way she was rethinking her plan right now. Slowly, she began to pump her fingers in and out. Watching them come out covered in silky essence. Pushing back in as deep as they could go, her mate’s butt and hips flexing as they bottomed out. Looking up, Kathryn’s head is flexed back, sweaty face flush and tense, eyes squeezed closed, and she’s oscillating between licking her lips and forming an “O” with those same lips whooshing air in and out fast. Change the speed, rotate periodically, every so often – let the thumb ride up and tease the clit and hear and feel the feedback. Experience it with her.
Enough foreplay Seven decided. Fingers started to piston faster.. to bottom out a bit harder. The slurpy sounds of wet, swollen flesh gripping the invading appendages tighter and tighter. The Admiral finally starting one of her chants, her body undulating to the rhythm… this one a combination of gruff “Ahhhhsss” and “Oh, Gods” in tandem.
She wanted to make her scream. To hear the true loss of control. To feel the elation of being human with her. Seven leaned in, her fingers continuing to pump just a bit faster and she started to curl them just a little.
A new level of “Ahhs” rang out through the kitchen.
The orgasm was building, but she wanted something more for her partner, her mate, her love, her life. No avoiding the obvious, keeping her fingers going – fluids now trickling down her hand, she put her mouth fully over a protruding clit. It was not exactly easy as Kathryn’s hips were moving and her own fingers were pumping right below. She latched on to the swollen hot nub and slathered it with plenty of attention. The Admiral’s very un-Admiral-like squeal echoed through the room. Time was close. Seven wanted this as badly as Kathryn. She timed her tongue grinding along the ridge and up and over the hardened clit with sending an ever so tiny electrical signal to the tips of her enhanced fingers just as she bottomed out and curled.
The “slow build” had quickly gone straight to transwarp catching the Admiral totally by surprise. A guttural scream range out while her back arced so hard that her head was the only thing touching the table until her butt. Both hands flew down to twine in Seven’s hair, some appreciable pulling unavoidable. It was also unavoidable that she clinched her legs together, Seven’s hand slipping off the sweaty skin.
Seven felt the legs slam around her head but she still had room enough to pull her fingers out slightly and jam them back into the tightened channel forcefully.
The Admiral’s body clinched on top of the tension again, another gasping string of “Ahhhs” drawn from a dry throat and lungs that had no air left. Kathryn could see spots inside her eyelids and the feeling of floating euphoria rising up quickly. A few seconds suspended between this world and the perfection of orgasm. The perfection of her Seven. The body kept spasming from toes to neck. Finally, her back had to start releasing its tension. Shoulders came back down to the table, arms flopped down and Kathryn tried to suck in some air.
Seven could feel the thighs shaking quite badly, hear the struggling breaths of her mate, and sense the heart rate elevated by over 100%. Staying still with fingers and mouth, feeling the channel and feminine lips fluttering on their own she slowly let Kathryn come down from her high. Her older mate’s body started to relax, twitches stuttering the slow decent. The legs released from clamping down on her head and gingerly, the former-drone removed her fingers, wrapping the hand under a sweaty, shaking right thigh. She placed gentle kisses along the swollen, sensitized center, Kathryn jerking just a bit with each placement.
Slowly, the blonde rose from between the spread legs. Not wanting to have them dangle uncomfortably off the edge of the table, Seven kept supporting both thighs from underneath with her hands. She surveyed her handiwork, the Admiral’s cries still fresh in her memory. Kathryn’s skin was flush with crimson blotches decorating her still heaving chest. Sweat had trickled from the forehead, neck and under the breasts to the sides of her body. The robe was streaked and puddled now with darker pink areas from the sweat and other fluids. She’d made quite a mess of her mate, and she loved it.
A hoarse voice broke into her thought train, “I bet you’re pretty pleased with yourself. As soon as I can move I want you naked in our bed. Later on, make sure you clean this table.”
Seven laughed…. It was wonderful to be home with her collective of two.