The Borg Cube — technology at its best. “You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.”
The Borg Queen — a creature of fascination.
The glistening moistly sheen, the softness of organic carnality, the tenderness of maternal confidence — a horror of sexual irresistibility.
The vulnerability and calling of a doe's neck.
The Borg Queen, in a osculating rapture with the king of androids.
The Son'a race, aged into ugliness with rage.

The howling of a Son'a. The losing of one's hope.
A beautiful moth-like spaceship, opening its wings. Beautiful.

The destruction of beauty — a speciality of homo sapiens.