TITLE: LAST CONTACT

AUTHOR: Firecracker

SERIES: VOY

PAIRING CODE: Janeway/Borg Queen

RATING: NC-17

DISCLAIMER: They don't belong to me. No money is being made. Contains two women having sex. If that isn't your kind of thing, don't read it. If you're under 17, you shouldn't be here, and if it's illegal where you live, you have been warned. Don't read it unless you want to find yourself under arrest.

ARCHIVE: FFF, obviously, and ASCEM archive. Other than that, want, ask, take, have.

NOTE: This was written for Round 3 of the Femme Fuh-Q Fest. Other stories can be found at http://www.oocities.org/femme_fuhq_fest

NOTES: This is set, I think, sometime after Unimatrix Zero. If that makes a problem, remember I haven't actually *seen* Unimatrix Zero. It is meant as a little light fun and I have no intention of glorifying the Borg. I hope no one is offended because of family members or friends being assimilated... er, oh. The Borg are fictional, aren't they? Well, sometimes we all temporarily lose our grip on reality. Thanks to Kelly Chambliss for suggesting improvements.

LAST CONTACT

Janeway watched the head descend slowly, lit green, and tried not to show her fear. She waited as the eyes stayed fixed on her in their cold yet gentle way, and as the spine joined the body. The Borg Queen stepped forward.

"I've waited for this a long time," she said. Janeway stayed silent. The Queen smiled, and continued in the same calm voice.

"Voyager has been assimilated. All your crew are drones. You resisted us, but your resistance was futile. Resistance is always futile." Janeway still didn't speak, but kept her eyes firmly on the Queen.

"You think you can outwit us, but you cannot. I am the Collective, I am trillions of minds, and you are only one, unable to work with others effectively. You are chaotic and inefficient."

"Better inefficient than a mindless drone, just the same as the next mindless drone," Janeway said with contempt.

"You attempt rationalisation of your desire to remain small," the Queen replied.

"Size is 'irrelevant'." Janeway used the Borg expression with sarcasm. Voyager is many times smaller than a Borg cube, yet we outwitted the entire Collective many times, precisely because of the crew's *individuality*." The Queen interrupted her, smiling in that maddening way.

"And where is Voyager now? Part of the larger whole..."

"We defeated Species 8472 with nanoprobes. Size was 'irrelevant' in that case.

"The nanoprobes were Borg," the Queen answered.

"But it was Voyager's different minds which modified them into weapons. If it were not for my crew of 143, the Collective would have been eradicated." An unpleasant look came over the Queen's face as she realised she had no retort. Janeway felt a wild surge of triumph, and let only a fraction of it show on her face.

"You owe your existence to me," she taunted some more. The Queen looked angrier. She was silent for a moment, seemingly about to give an angry retort, but then calmed.

"Your resistance is unique," she said, smiling again. "If that resistance and determination were used in the right way, it could be quite an advantage to us. And you would retain some of the individuality that you value so highly. If you agreed..."

"You obviously don't know me very well," Janeway interrupted, her voice filled with utter contempt and hate. "I will do *nothing* to help you in any way."

"As I expected," the Queen replied. "You prefer to remain small, ruled by your irrational emotions."

"Emotions give you power," Janeway told the Borg.

"Emotions are a weakness," the Queen countered. "Many times you have brought yourself into needless and dangerous contact and confrontations with us because of the emotions you feel for Seven of Nine."

"What *emotions*?" Janeway demanded angrily. The Queen smiled patronisingly.

"You feel defensive. Seven of Nine is part of me. I feel her in me. I know her every memory. I can see your reactions to her, your love for her."

"She doesn't have any memories of that."

"She has never had sexual relations with you."

"Thank you, I'm well aware of that," Janeway spat. And my biggest regret, she thought.

"You haven't had an intimate relationship for a long time. You are one, alone. You are lonely."

"How the hell do you know whether I'm *lonely*?"

"Your crewmembers are perceptive. I am those crewmembers. They are me." The Queen walked closer to her, and her voice got softer.

"You miss it," she whispered in Janeway's ear. She stood back and stroked her face. Janeway looked back at her, face of stone.

"I'll survive," she said coldly. The Queen kept her voice near a whisper.

"It's been such a long time…" – she trailed her tongue down the side of Janeway's face – "…since you've felt the touch of a woman…" She continued to trail her tongue further down Janeway's neck, and despite herself, Janeway began feeling aroused. She was intensely aware of the shining skin and wet lips of the woman near her. With an effort she pulled away.

"I don't have sex with the Borg," she said with contempt. The Queen started stroking her back.

"This is the last thing you're gonna do…" Janeway was finding it more and more difficult to resist, and was about to drag herself away again, but was suddenly struck by how very pointless it would be. Besides, she *did* miss it. The last person she'd fucked had been a damn hologram. And hell, this was the last time she was ever gonna get any. Filling up with self-loathing along with arousal, she relaxed her stiff posture. The Borg Queen smiled, knowing she'd won her over. She brought her mouth up again and lowered it onto Janeway's and the Captain's mouth opened in response, drawing the tongue in.

As the kiss became deeper, and Janeway would have started slipping the Queen's clothes off if she'd had any, the Queen pulled away. She looked at Janeway. Then she slowly pulled the Starfleet jacket off and brought her hand to massage Janeway's erect nipples through her t-shirt. Janeway's breathing became quicker and she ached for more contact, as the Queen continued kissing her mouth. She moaned as the touches to her breasts became harder, and the Queen finally obliged, pausing for a moment to pull the remainder of her clothes off. Janeway breathed in sharply as the hands returned to her breasts and she felt cold metal against her nipples. The Queen's tongue left Kathryn’s mouth and began to trail its way down her neck. She sucked one of the nipples into her mouth, rolling it between her teeth and lips. As she did it, her hand left the breasts and began making little strokes down Janeway's abdomen. The metal stimulated her every nerve ending, leaving her desperate for more contact. Finally the Queen’s hand came down into her wet curls, lightly massaging the labia before slipping two of the fingers inside. Janeway gasped as she felt the metal enter her, and rode on increasing waves of pleasure as she thrust them in and out. As she did it, the Queen brought her tongues down to join her fingers, and the combined sensations of both brought Janeawy almost to breaking point. As she felt the climax threatening to break over the other woman, the Queen relaxed her movements, torturing Janeway. She smiled at Janeway’s moaning for more and resumed. Then Janeway cried out at the new sensation of something shooting out into her and realised it was the Queen’s assimilation tubules. Shit, she thought hazily, this is how I’m gonna be assimilated? Well, what a way to go – but the tubules simply found her clit and started massaging it hard, and with that along with the still moving fingers and tongue, she lost all thought as her mindblowing orgasm crashed over her in waves. As they subsided, the Queen withdrew, leaving Janeway’s breathing to slowly return to normal.

With the return of the regular heartbeat and breathing rhythm came the return of both women’s normal roles. The Queen of the Borg and Voyager’s captain faced each other again, Janeway all the more hostile because of what had just happened. As the Queen walked around the chamber they were in, listening to the noises of the Collective, Janeway put her clothes back on, making sure every pip was fastened. She was a Starfleet Captain, and she was going to be assimilated that way. The Queen returned, and Janeway stood before her, eyes full of hate.

"You will serve the Collective as a drone. You will cease to be an individual and become a part of us. You will know the perfection of the Borg." As she said it, she looked towards a door, through which came a drone. The newcomer walked in a less mechanical way than the rest, her stride displaying arrogance, self-assurance, a little individuality. Janeway stared at Seven of Nine, covered once again with Borg implants, and was filled with deep despair, grief and anger. She tore her eyes away from the still beautiful drone, and fixed the Queen with a Level 10 glare.

"Do you know how hard I worked to make her human again?" she said, cold rage in her every word. The Queen's smile said it all: she didn't care. She was the Borg; of course she didn't care.

"She is mine. She was always mine."

"She was *mine*," Janeway said forcefully, and both knew it was true. There was a pause for a moment, and then she continued.

"She resisted you. She chose humanity over the Collective so many times. She *knew* them both, and she chose to be human."

"You made her human. Now she will make you Borg." The Queen pointed out the ultimate in ironies, and Seven stepped closer.

"Seven…" Janeway appealed to her, knowing the futility of it. "You're human, Seven. You don’t need to do this…"

"My humanity is irrelevant," Seven interrupted. "We are Borg." Janeway's heart sank at the sound of her voice, impersonal and without emotion. She was reminded of the drone she first knew, her Borg arrogance and crisp, dismissive statements. It was difficult to fall in love with a Borg drone, but Janeway had just about managed it. She'd made her human and loved her more every day, that unique combination of Borg ice and human fire. Now she was a drone and it had all been for nothing. She turned her eyes to the Queen, who was smiling at Janeway's pain.

"You see, I won," she said simply. "Goodbye, Captain." She put her lips to Janeway's and kissed her lingeringly. Then she stood back and watched. Janeway made one last attempt to reach the drone.

"Seven…" she pleaded, but her words were cut off by the shooting pain in her neck. Captain Kathryn Janeway ceased to be, nanoprobes flooding her veins and bursting out in stars, as she looked helplessly into the cold face of the woman she loved. The Borg Queen looked on, the same smile on her face, because she knew she would always win. And a new drone was born.