— Posted in Gee Whiz!, Kill Command, Vampire Noir

Kill Command [A Borg Queen and her Central Alcove] – EP 11 (Season 1)

In the Star Trek franchise, a fictional universe in which the Borg are cybernetic beings with both organic and biomechanical body parts,

The central alcove is a specialized Borg regeneration device that is specifically coded for use by the Borg Queen. In Star Trek there is only one Borg Queen and only one Borg Collective.

Each Borg drone is assigned to a specific Borg alcove within the vessel they are assigned to, while specific alcoves can be interchanged with certain modifications, the central alcove however is meant only for the Queen. This chamber holds the biological components of the Queen’s upper torso and head for regeneration while a mechanical lower half body is assembled and attached when the Borg Queen emerges. Typically however her emergence only occurs when the situation is deemed necessary. (Star Trek: First Contact; VOY: “Dark Frontier”)

The enigmatic Borg Queen is the central locus of the Borg Collective. She brings order to the legions of voices within the Hive mind and provides a common direction — much like the queen of an insect colony. She resides primarily at Unimatrix One in the Delta Quadrant, but will often leave this home base to participate in assimilation efforts of a special nature.

The Borg Queen has a unique personality and a sense of individuality that normal Borg drones are not allowed. She is usually the one who “speaks” for the Collective in situations where contact with outsiders is best conducted by an individual. But for the Borg Queen the concepts “I” and “we” are interchangeable. In her own words, she is the “one who is many”.

The Queen spends much of her time in her “lair” with her head and spinal column residing in the upper portion of a special alcove. When she emerges, she will “re-assemble” herself via this central alcove into a predominantly artificial body — the arms, legs, and torso are entirely synthetic, while the head and shoulders are organic, but with substantial cybernetic implants.

This well-endowed, anatomically-correct prosthetic body is stored in its constituent pieces in the base of the alcove. Upon reassembly by the central alcove, the five pieces are rise from their hidden recesses to be joined with the Queen’s biological upper portion, and then the Queen is dressed in an EXO.

Information on this being is still very limited. Apparently the Borg Queen has been destroyed on a number of occasions, but another queen always seems to take her place. Unlike in the real world where more than one Borg queen exists simultaneously, in the Star Trek universe a new queen is only created when the old one dies. Because of The Borg’s collective nature, each Borg Queen has all her predecessors’ qualities and memories. Therefore when she speaks as “I”, she is referring to all previous manifestations of the Queen, going back probably thousands of years.


Because of The Borg’s collective nature, each Borg Queen has all of the qualities and memories of her predecessors and counterparts. Not being metal, Sara is incapable of tapping into this race memory, though. At least not at the conscious level. But. At the subconscious level. Her Id can and does do data analytics on these Collective memories, and by doing so influences her at the unconscious level.

As Sara has the desired locker in sight, something standing erect in a far corner catches her eye in passing. That causal attention suddenly becomes a fixation. There are faint voices, more like echoes in her head. And these are not the ghost whispers of the undead. These telepathic voices she recognizes instinctively as Borg. The ghost voices of a long-dead Borg Collective which are is hijacking her mind via a telepathic “port” that’s buried deep within the subconscious of all Borg. This port is the cornerstone of the Borg Hive mind. And. As such, the port is encrypted and secure, and thus this type of subjugation is supposed to be impossible.

Of note.

There’s something sentient behind the hijack. The ghost voices are being used as a way to remote in. They are not an end onto themselves.

Sara’s arms drop to her sides and her hands klaw. She walks over to that far corner. Where stands the wrecked central alcove of a Borg queen.

The central contains the fully-assembled, fully-clothed, partially-emerged remains of a recently-dead Borg queen. A queen wearing a Borg-enhanced face which strongly resembles the face of South African actress and producer Alice Maud Krige. Not Ms. Krige’s face, but a close likeness. It was the face of the deceased when she was flesh, before she became metal.

Of special interest.

The alcove itself is thousands of years old. But. Its occupant died within the last three years. Additional deep scans indicate two things. The alcove came from the Delta Quadrant of a parallel universe. But, its occupant, who is not only human, she’s a human of Sol System origin and from Earth in this universe. In point of fact, the sourced human, a forty-something woman named Alice Maud Hux, was a robotics expert employed by North Star on loan to the Russians working under and bound by an iron-clad non-disclosure agreement.

To digress.

The deceased is not a robot with a positronic brain, like it should be. With a face and body resulting from a human face and body digitized, and used as a model for a 3-D printer.

The corpse is cybernetic. A being with both organic and biomechanical body parts. This individual started off human [a middle-aged woman named Alice Maud Hux], and was cannibalized for “spare” parts to be joined to a prosthetic body. As such. She’s a Star Trek version of the Borg.

Sara drops her shields. She opens her mouth inhumanly-wide. Assimilation tubules spew from a maw which now literally stretches from ear-to-ear. They spear the dead queen’s forehead, piercing the skull, and penetrate deep into the queen’s brain. Sara uploads the queen’s race memory and a sample of the queen’s nanites. This is how Borg queens duel.

Of note in this duel. Although it is quite early in their exchange. The dead queen has yet to fire her volley, so to speak, and spew. Dead for a Borg queen doesn’t mean she still can’t fight back.

During the upload, Sara’s complexion ceases to be fair and white and flawless, and instead assumes the “normal” grey motley pigmentation of a Borg. The same skin pigmentation that the corpse also possesses. Sara’s skin color change is in reaction to the dead queen’s harvested nanites and to her consumption of the dead queen’s memories.

Then the hostile takeover, of the living queen by the dead one, begins in earnest. Alice Hux’s “foreign” transfer—i.e., her consumed race memory and harvested nanites—try to shanghai Sara Miller. The “foreigners” constitute a pathogen being used by the wannabe-domineering presence in Sara’s mind, the presence commanding the dead queen. This ever-growing presence is ancient, predating Creation, and it is not God. It is malevolent and coveting, and formless. It needs a new body to take on physical form and become substance.

In the death-ravaged universe it previously came from, it used an alias and called itself, “The One”. Too late the humans in that universe discovered who it really was. By then trillions had perished and been resurrected Dead. Now only scattered pockets of humanity survive across the far-flung expanses of outer space in that doomed universe.

There is a version of Functional Magic that revolves around the use of “true names”. A true name perfectly describes something’s essential nature; knowing a true name gives one power over the owner of the name. In some portrayals, using a person’s true name forces them to obey your commands. In others, a true name gives you a connection to the name’s owner that allows you to work magic on them from a distance. Sometimes, a person’s true name is needed if you want to work any magic on them at all.

Its true name is “Pan”, the god of necromancers. This is what scared the Russians shitless. Yet, Putin and his cronies and North Star and the girl who volunteered to be sourced for the onboarding, were so enraptured by the chance to onboard a Borg queen, that they threw caution to the wind and pursued this fool’s errand, even though they knew that it was a trap, even though they knew that Pan, a supernatural being, was behind it. Pan, an Old One, one of the First Gods, after God.

The presence of Pan explains a lot. The attacking Dead aren’t animated by the Z-virus. They are being animated and directed by the god Pan, itself. Once Pan has evicted Sara and taken up residence, it too will animate and direct her living body, and have access to all of her memories. But. There’s a lot of slips between the cup and the lip. Pan is a god of the Dead, not the living. His expertise is with stiffs, not warm bodies. Therefore, his ascendency over Sara is far from assured.

For the two Borg queens. It’s a seesaw battle. Both try for any foothold, no matter how much of a longshot. But. The needle, so to speak, does not move to the advantage of either. So. The dead queen finally decides to up the ante. To that end, the dead queen spews. Spewing always leaves you open to countering and infiltration by the opponent you’re infiltrating with your spew.

The dead queen opens her mouth inhumanly-wide. Assimilation tubules spew from a maw which now literally stretches from ear-to-ear. They spear Sara’s forehead, piercing the skull, and penetrate deep into the girl’s brain. What follows swiftly is the expected counter upload of Sara’s race memory, personal memories, and nanite sampling. The assault is also meant to appeal to the masochistic aspect of the girl’s sadomasochistic nature—i.e., a potential lust-filled distraction and thus a possible compromising of Sara’s focus and concentration.

Sara cannot read the dead queen, because the dead queen is dead. Pan cannot read Sara, because Sara is a sociopath. Again, advantage to neither combatant.

What’s not in play in the duel are the welcome physical distractions both queens represent. Distractions enhanced by, and directly resulting from, their EXO.

For example.

In the front. The flirt of Sara’s EXO-plumped cleavage. The countering flirt of the dead queen’s own EXO-plumped cleavage. Each flirt has its own double-D cup merits. Sara’s tits look like they’re on the inside fighting to get out. The dead queen’s tits that look like they’re on the outside fighting to get in. Tit for tat.

In the back. Great asses too. Accentuated by the lift-n-separate of their EXO. Nothing sagging. Firm, flat, pancake asses that look like two puppies fighting under a very tight, cleavage-delineating blanket.

Then there’s the tease of their crotches. Sometimes it’s better to show less or nothing at all. EXO’s have a second skin fit, yet, paradoxically, an EXO doesn’t delineate the wearer’s pussy lips. Therefore, the crotch of the EXO is no more revealing than, and just as neuter as, “regular” panties, thongs, G-strings, etc.

Nonetheless. A Borg queen’s EXO leaves little to the imagination. In the naughty breeches department, as aforementioned, EXO do the old lift-n-separate, luridly accentuating crotch and [rear] cleavage: oh, we got some extra cleavage down there and back there too!

Ooh. La La. Tall, ugly, black riding boots. Severity personified. Boot lickers’ heaven. Clunky, knee-high, platform boots, with thick lug soles and heels.

EXO—i.e., boots, gloves, and catsuit. Looking every bit like liquid rubber that has been poured onto the wearer’s body. Borg PVC. Submissively adhering to every curve thereof, just like its skin-fitting namesake, the neoprene of a scuba diver’s wet suit. Fetish ware. Befitting a bleach-blonde Uma Thurman as the villainous clone of Mrs. Emma Peel in The Avengers movie. Form-fitting EXO that slavishly smooths and shapes to the wearer’s body. Front and rear cleavage. Prominent sweater bumps—i.e., pencil eraser shaped dimples in the Kevlar-grade “fabric” of their EXO resulting from their nipples “poking” the EXO. Perverse and ugly. Arousing. Sex and violence. Rubberware that fits so snug it looks like you had to be sewn into the stuff and then only after talcum powder had been liberally applied to all of your curves!

Sara wearing EXO ups the ante of her curb appeal. You crave it [the EXO] to yanks itself down around the girl’s waist, exposing her from the waist up. The same can be said of the EXO-attired dead queen. Again, tit for tat.

But, in spite of the craved overexposure, you can still wallow in it. It being the contemplation of those sordid outfits of theirs.

To indulge to the nth degree, by reiteration and reinvention.

EXO. Pitch black and covered in Borg runes. Form fitting. Assimilative. The gloves are cast with fingernails and pronounced veins: molded-on varicose veins and fingernails, fingernails that are glossy, bright red, the color of fresh arterial blood. Creepy-looking, shoulder-high, black rubber opera gloves. Ornate, creepy skinz; ornamented and creepied-out by every Borg Queen who wears them.

Gloves that feel like flesh, and hit like a Mack truck. Gloves with that second skin fit. Gloves that are, in fact, rubber. Living rubber gloves that look like rubber and feel like flesh: Borg body armor. Borg technology!

Skintight gloves that are so obscene; even the sleaziest pornographer would feel dirty while gazing upon them, let alone touching them. They’re the ultimate masturbator, bar none.

Longitudinal and latitudinal suture “scars” are molded into the EXO. The scars would look right at home on Dr. Frankenstein’s Monster. Shades of lipstik, that jagged scarification that is goddess Kali’s trademark script.

These raised, crosshatched scars give the illusion that the gloves, boots, and catsuit have been pieced together just like The Monster. Shades of the crudely stitched together cannibal skins that are worn by Kali’s Belongings. Individually, the gloves, boots, and catsuit are one piece items. They constitute one continuous outfit when worn together, just like the wetsuit of a scuba diver!

In summation.

PVC, Rubberware, EXO. By whatever name it is called. It’s what being bound is all about. It’s the ultimate expression of bondage-and-discipline and the personification of humiliation-and-degradation. The very pinnacle of fascist fetish-ware. Body candy without peer, because it melts in your mind, not in your hands. And, although the protective index of the body armor in question is Mil-Spec, its severe tailoring, optional see-thru mode, and second-skin fit definitely aren’t.

Who should win? We’re talking fuckability, not the duel. Sara or the dead queen? They both have their merits.

Knobb. Klaw, when idle. Straight-laced and frigid. Slut. Shrew. Stern and rigid. Harsh and haughty. Loathing and disdain overlaid by bitter divorcee—a facial flavor due entirely to that big loathsome mouth of hers. The hard, hate-filled face of a Borg Queen. A hard, pretty face. A maniacal look—more facial flavor due entirely to that big loathsome mouth of hers. A mouth which bespeaks of loathing and disdain even when that’s not its wearer’s intent. A mouth tailor-made for fucking. Having a maniacal sadistic look on her hardlooking face several times staring off into the distance. Robotic? There is something vaguely robotic about her walk, speech, and mannerisms that easily pass for dominatrix when it could just as easily be taken for Borg. Last, but not least, when she slips on her schoolmarmish readers for her version of The Sarah Palin. Still … A walking orgasm, nonetheless. She’s easily mistaken for a spinster librarian, and part-time dominatrix, of Borg derivation.

Who does the above describe? Both girls.

Post script.

Schoolmarmish readers? Kazuo Kawasaki 704 eyeglasses, to be precise. The authentic 1950s era spectacles of the style favored by Ms. Sarah Louise Palin, the former Republican Governor of Alaska and the current Vice President of the United States of America.