This is an alternate story based on "Only Human" by Alara Rogers (aleph@netcom.com), although it isn't in her continuity. I got sufficiently obsessed by the story "Only Human" that I wrote an alternate set in this universe. Alara's permission has been secured for this. Also, this story contains sex and some reasonably graphic descriptions of violence (although not together), so if that sort of thing bothers you, you might want to skip out now. PropinQuity by Mercutio (mercutio@europa.com); based on "Only Human" by Alara Rogers Naomi finally managed to corral Roth as he was about to enter his quarters. She could have found him more easily if she'd been willing to approach him while he was working, but she wanted to cause a scene and didn't want anyone watching. She'd been attempting to track him down for days now. Ever since he'd gone off the deep end and suddenly tried to crawl into bed with Q, she'd been after him. She didn't know why Roth had done it, but he'd hurt Q and it was her intention to make him pay for that sin. The recent Security alert had not made things any easier for her. Another attempt was being made on Q's life, this time from some aliens hanging about in their little tincan of a ship. Naomi had seen their original broadcast and not been impressed. The Dilkinen had struck her as little lizards with scaly skin and a lisping mode of speech. They'd demanded that Anderson hand over Q or else. The commodore had naturally refused, but the Dilkinen had not left. And so Security was on a constant alert, following Q everywhere, and wanting to do the same thing to her as well. Stupid duty bound flat foots. How was she supposed to conduct a good scathing rebuke with them watching her? Huh? Roth looked up nervously at her. "Uhh... Naomi. How... nice to see you." Naomi nodded grimly. "I wish I could say the same. We need to talk." Roth looked around him for assistance and didn't see any. It was silly to be scared of someone who was so much smaller than himself, but he didn't really like being alone with her. "We do?" "Yes." Naomi gestured at the open door to his quarters. "Shall we?" Reluctantly, Roth went inside. "It wasn't my fault, Naomi." "Really?" she asked mildly. "You had nothing at all to do with it?" "You told me I should!" Taken aback, Naomi stared at him. "I did no such thing." Relieved, Roth put his hands down, relaxing his stance. "You did. You told me I should take advantage of my opportunities, take a chance. And I did." "That's not what I meant." He paled. "It wasn't?" "Why would I say something like that?" "You did!" Naomi supposed that what she said could have been miscontrued that way, although she wasn't sure how. Roth must have been desperately trying to interpret her words into some sort of agreement to his wishes. "Honestly, Naomi. I did think you wanted me to do that." "*Wanted* you to seduce him? What kind of idiot do you think I am? You hurt his feelings and you hurt him." Roth gulped. "I did? I thought he was angry with me, but..." Naomi realized she'd said a little more than she intended to. She shook her head. "It doesn't matter." "Yes, it does. I never wanted to hurt Q. You have to believe that, Naomi. I only wanted..." Roth's face closed off. He couldn't bear to think about what he'd wanted. He'd been so stupid, and he couldn't forgive himself for that. Only wanted what she had, Naomi realized. With a deep regret, she realized she couldn't blame Roth. Despite her earlier desire to dismember him, seeing him in front of her, himself shattered by the experience made her feel sorry for him as well. With a sigh, she sank into a chair. "You really didn't try to hurt him?" "No," Roth shook his head. "I didn't. I wouldn't. Naomi... I'd be much more worried about him hurting me." Naomi raised an eyebrow. "He can hurt you all he wants, as far as I care." Roth sighed heavily. "You don't know how much I've paid for that. But why should you care?" His tone was bitter. "You have him, and I don't, and he hates me now. Why should you care about the feelings of some perverted would be lover of your own companion?" Naomi looked at Roth consideringly, trying to understand. He seemed very hurt, not at all the flippant uncaring wunderkind he liked to project himself as. Did she have this all wrong? Was she going after already wounded prey? "Harry, I don't think that about you. I... can't say I came here because of your feelings, because I came here to tear you limb from limb for deliberately hurting Q." That was an understatement. Tearing him limb from limb, then flaying the skin of his body, and then torturing him to death was more like what she'd had in mind, although she'd meant to do it verbally. "You do realize I'm can't kill you now," Naomi said, her tone ironic. Roth smiled slightly, relieved. "I'm glad. You don't know how upset I've been over this. I... I've wanted Q for a long time, and that afternoon... it was like a fantasy come to life." He swallowed hard. "Only the fantasy was much more real than I was prepared for. I... I've been trying not to think about it, trying to get over it, but it's just not working." "I have an idea." A sudden thought had sprung full-blown into Naomi's head. Harry was not quite the uncaring asshole she'd pictured him as, and he was hurting almost as much as Q, although Q would never admit to it now. Naomi couldn't see why it was that the two of them had to lose the tenuous friendship they already had over a romantic interlude gone bad. Certainly, neither of them could afford to antagonize the other, when both of them had few enough friends as it was. Q especially. "I do think I have a plan." Roth looked straight at her, eyes wide. "No. Not again." She smiled. "You have any better ideas, Casanova?" "Yes. I'm going to call Security and have you hauled off, and then I'm going to hide under my bed until next year sometime." She tilted her head. "Won't work. Security's all tied up at the moment, trying to protect Q from the big bad aliens. Besides, what other choice do you have?" "I'm not going to like this, am I?" "Sure you will. In a couple of decades, you might even laugh about it." With a shrug, Harry gave himself up to the inevitable. He had never been at his best at dealing with women, particularly short bossy ones. Of course, the only one of those he knew was Naomi, but he intended to avoid anyone even remotely resembling her type from now on. Naomi nodded. "I have to meet with the commodore now, and Q's off with Counsellor Medellin, but after that would be perfect." "Perfect for who?" Naomi ignored him. "I'll come and get you." "Is that a threat?" "Yes." Harry sighed. "That's what I thought." **** Naomi tapped her foot impatiently. This meeting was turning into a lecture session and she had better things to do. She wanted to throw Q and Harry together before Harry could change his mind. Or she could. The commodore spoke. "I will not be responsible for the life of a civilian. I have no choice with Q, but I do with you. For the duration of this emergency, I want you two separated." Naomi shrugged. "Is that all? No." "No? Dr. Allen, you don't understand..." "No. I won't. And you can't make me. Remember?" Commodore Anderson gritted her teeth, remembering the orders she'd been pressured into signing after Q had nearly succeeded in committing suicide over the transwarp incident. "Dr. Allen, this would be in your own best interests, as well as Q's best interests. Security cannot protect both of you as effectively as it can one of you. These unknown aliens have made threats against Q's life. He's been attacked before, and people, innocent bystanders, have died. I'm appealing to your own good judgement." "No, commodore, you don't understand. This would not be in anyone's best interests. It is certainly not in Q's best interests. What use is protecting him against assassins if you have to protect him against himself?" Naomi saw her point hit home, and continued. "Any assailant who is cognizant of the state of affairs on the station is just as likely to go after me when I'm on my own in an attempt to get at Q indirectly. I'm safer with him than without him. At least then I'm protected." "Doctor, we have no evidence that the alien ship has any such knowledge..." Naomi inclined her head regally, "So the question is moot." Naomi had already considered the risk, had considered it a long time ago. When she first thought about moving in with Q, she had known about the attempts on his life. How could anyone *not* know? And she'd been well aware that she'd be, if not an actual target, certainly all too close to ground zero. While she was not suicidal, or especially thrilled at the prospect of possibly losing her life, Naomi had known that it was part of the price she'd have to pay in order to get close to Q. And that getting close to him would be worth any price. But that was a silly thought and she stomped on it immediately. Naomi stood up. "Is that all?" Anderson wished wholeheartedly that Dr. Allen was a Starfleet officer, so that she could put the good doctor in the brig for insubordination. But Dr. Allen was not, and her remarks were well within the limits of what Anderson expected herself to tolerate from civilians. "I believe it is, Dr. Allen." **** Naomi dragged Harry into Q's quarters. The security guards stationed inside looked up at their entrance, relaxing only when both intruders had been identified and classified as harmless. Naomi ignored them, looking for Q. He wasn't in the common room. She hoped he was there. Harry seemed ready to bolt at any moment. She looked in his bedroom and found Q staked out in front of the computer screen. She smiled with relief and went inside, dragging Harry along behind her. As the door swooshed shut behind them, the guards looked at each other. "You don't think...?" "No. They couldn't be." "You're right." Q looked up at their entrance. He started to smile when he saw Naomi, but as soon as he spotted Harry, sheltering behind her, Q frowned. "What's he doing here?" Naomi stepped forward firmly. "He's here so the two of you can make up." "There's nothing to talk about." "Sure there is." Harry looked at Q, feeling desperately embarrassed. This wasn't a scene he wanted to be a part of. What had he been thinking of, to let Naomi persuade him into coming here? "I should leave," Harry muttered. Naomi grabbed him firmly by the arm. "Not yet. First you and Q are going to talk." The two men exchanged glances for the first time. No way. Not in this universe. She was crazy. Naomi watched them with exasperation. "Or I'll talk and the two of you will listen." They stared at her, Q with a look in his eye like he was challenging her to do her worst, and Harry very obviously begging to be let out of this. With a grim smile, Naomi started in. "Q, Harry only came here to have sex with you because he's wanted you for a very long time and he thought I'd given him permission to do it. He wasn't trying to rape you or hurt you, and he's very sorry that you did get hurt." Harry colored slightly. She was quite blunt. Then it was Q's turn. "And Harry, Q doesn't hate you. He likes you a lot, and probably finds you attractive, although if I find you in bed with him again, you *will* find out what the wrath of Naomi is like." Q froze, his natural instinct to strike out conflicting with an equally strong desire to simply hide. What did she think she was *doing*? "Now, talk," Naomi ordered, stalking over to guard the door. Harry looked at Q and Q looked at Harry. Finally, Harry broke the silence. "Is she always this annoying?" "Sometimes she's worse." Harry smiled. "She must be the person best qualified to deal with you, then." "Are you implying I'm annoying?" "Oh, no. You go far beyond that. But if she can annoy you, she must have special talents. To annoy you and still be willing to be around you, she was be fireproof as well." "Just too annoying to die," Q said, his mouth quirking. "Although this time, she may have gone too far." He looked over at Naomi and she stared levelly back, challenging him to do his worst. Q returned her look. He'd get her back for this later. He didn't approve of meddling, at least not when it was done to him. **** Harry left after only a brief period of time. Naomi felt confident though that the breach between the two men had been mended, if not made completely whole. Each seemed at ease with the other, and that was all she cared about. Neither Q nor Harry deserved to go around feeling guilty about their romantic misadventures. Harry, because with the number of relationships he had, if he were to be stigmatized by this, would be forced to change his whole romantic life, and become a monk. And Q because she cared about him, and because he didn't need yet another thing to avoid. Particularly not when Harry was about the closest thing to a friend Q had. She didn't count herself. She wasn't exactly a friend. She wasn't quite sure what she was. The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent in their quarters, Q and Naomi doing their best to ignore their guards while pretending to behave normally. They were actually doing nothing of the sort. Behaving normally did not involve being across the room from each other, hardly speaking and not touching. But they had no other choice. Q would not engage in any action around observers. He could tolerate their presence, because knew they were necessary to ensure his safety. But he had to maintain his image. And his image did not include such things as relationships, especially when he'd repeatedly claimed to neither need nor want such things. And having every detail of his interactions with Naomi selectively colored and retold to the entire starbase didn't appeal to him either. Naomi stayed away from Q for fear of embarrassing him. He was a very private man, despite his penchant for melodrama. What she had done earlier to heal the gap between him and Harry was more than enough strain on their relationship for one day. As long as he appeared to want a distance between them, she would respect that. **** The Security commander's comm badge chirped, and he answered it. "Yes?" Naomi looked up, worry on her face. Reports like this had been trickling in all day. Sensor reports on the alien ship which appeared for brief moments then disappeared again like a ghost ship, security assessments, break-ins, suspect occurrences. Each one left her a little tenser, bringing home to her the reality of what was happening. Q seemed far more calm than she was, but then, this wasn't the first time for him. Naomi looked over at Q, who was leisurely examining a computer catalogue of fabulous art objects. She envied his poise and ability to actually *do* something during this crisis. She was a wreck. Q's poise was simply that, a pose. He had lived through a number of these attempts, and although Security did appear to be handling this one competently for a change, there was no way to completely block out the knowledge that once again, someone wanted him dead in a very bad way. What made the experience especially unpleasant was that he'd just gotten used to the idea of living. If he still wanted to die, this would be easier. However, Q maintained his pose. With Security virtually living in his lap, there was no way he was going to show even a hint of his true feelings. Not to these goons. And so he played at deciding what exotic toy he could get Starfleet to scramble to acquire for him next. Perhaps Naomi would like something truly ugly to play with. Naomi had been on-base during previous assassination attempts, but they looked a lot different from ground zero, when the target was someone you cared about. She wanted to go to Q, to draw some sort of comfort from him, or offer it to him, either one, but couldn't. Not with all these people here. "Another break-in, sir," the voice reported over Azoth's comm badge. "Damn. Where?" "Two levels down, the Tellarian ambassador's quarters." "Injuries?" "Two wounded, including the ambassador, sir." "Damn. Notify the commodore." "Yes, sir." **** Veloz turned to Q. "We'll be staying here tonight. The shift change will take place at 0600 hours, so you'll probably see a different set of guards when you get up." Q nodded. He didn't like it, but he understood why the Security team was going to stay in the common room for the night. With break-ins occuring throughout the station and an unknown ship hanging just inside sensor range making demands, there were reasons for concern. He didn't particularly want to be killed. He'd put up with a lot to avoid that. Even if it meant giving up his privacy. Naomi looked at Q, a question in her eyes. She could go to her own room for the night, preserving his privacy and the illusion of not having a relationship. It would be a formality only; Naomi was certain most people suspected. But nonetheless, it was an illusion she was willing to sacrifice her own wishes to keep, for his sake. Or she could spend the night with him, flaunting their relationship in front of the Security detail, for the first time, confirming the suspicions of everyone with actual fact. Even their nakedness on the previous incident where she had been taken to Sickbay, was not as openly damning a confirmation as this. She didn't want to go to her own room. She wanted, *needed*, to be with him. The long hours of waiting had taken a toll on her, and she didn't want to be alone. She wanted to be with him, to find some kind of surcease for the interminable terror. Q swallowed hard, understanding instantly what Naomi meant. He could send her away now, *had* to send her away. Anger flared in him, directed at the Security team now camped out in the common room. How dare they invade his privacy this way? It was one thing for them to protect him from attack; it was quite another for them to act as common voyeurs. He couldn't ask Naomi to stay, couldn't lower himself that far, especially in front of witnesses. Naomi stepped closer to him, separating the two of them from the rest of the room, face upturned to him, her eyes full of emotion. She stood there, poised, like a young animal, ready to flee at a wrong sound. Did he dare take the chance? Could he live with himself if he did not? A brief thought flashed across his mind of himself, unable to sleep, twisting in the sheets, needing Naomi and then humiliating himself entirely by going to her in the middle of the night. No. He knew it was entirely possible, but he couldn't, wouldn't take that chance. He inclined his head to her, and she nodded slightly. Without speaking, he turned and went into his own room, Naomi following, the door swooshing shut behind them. Naomi and Q gravitated towards each other as if propelled by magnetic force as soon as the door closed on the Security contigent waiting in the outer room. She went into his arms, and they held each other tightly, neither of them saying a word. Admitting how much they needed this would be saying they were scared, and that was something neither Q nor Naomi was willing to confess. They stood there for a long time, taking comfort from the desperate embrace. The long, harrowing hours of waiting for nothing to happen had taken a toll on both of them. Neither of them was particularly good at waiting, and waiting to die was worse. "If you don't want me to be here, I'll go," she offered half- heartedly, the sound muffled against his chest. "Want you? How could I possibly want you?" Q asked archly, the cutting words belied by the almost desperate way he clung to her. Naomi decided to prove the exception to that by demonstration, reaching up to Q, her hands going to his shoulders and her face upturned for a kiss. He resisted. "What are you doing? The Security team could come in at any moment." "We'll pretend we were holding a late night conference on thermogoddamnics." She tugged him towards her, and he met her in a kiss. The kiss was more passionate than any they had previously shared, the intensity of their experiences and the pent-up emotions inside of them driving them towards each other. Naomi clung to Q, kissing him as though he were her only hope of life. Her body molded itself to his, Naomi trying to get as close to him as she could, to cover up all her fears of death with as much living, breathing man as she could. Q accepted the familiarity. Her warmth was welcome, after the long, lonely hours of waiting. He'd never realized how much he enjoyed being touched until it was taken away. Humans apparently never touched each other. Q hadn't noticed or cared until Naomi came into his life. She touched him constantly when they were alone, a hand on his back, a kiss, leaning up against him. But they hadn't be alone in hours, and in the tense circumstances, being deprived of her touch was more devastating than he would have believed. Seeing her and not being able to touch her, when he needed to, was the most exquisite torture in the world. Naomi broke off the kiss and drew Q back to the bedroom with her. He followed, not thinking of pulling away. Naomi drew Q down on the bed next to her, positioning him so he was leaning over her, their bodies still close together. She reached up for him, kissing him again. His hand went hesitantly to her hip, finding its way under the material and stroking her warm skin. Naomi shivered, running her hand along his neck. She couldn't get enough of this. She needed this, needed him. The long hours spent waiting for nothing to happen had eaten away at her like acid. Her mouth sought his hungrily, her body straining upwards to touch his. His questing hand moved upward, under the fabric, lightly skimming the surface of her skin, coming to rest on her breast. They stared at each other, Naomi's level gaze meeting Q's own worried, wanting eyes. Without a word, they began quickly undressing each other, Naomi tugging hard at Q's shirt, unfastening it and letting it hang open, Q's hand moving the fabric up and over Naomi's head. Naomi half sat up, shrugging the blouse over her head. The silence was eerie. Neither one wanted to disturb it, to bring up fears or hesitations, as if to speak was to recall reality. Within seconds, they were both naked, lying on discarded clothing. Naomi kissed Q's bare chest. Q trembled. Despite the knowledge that there was a Security team stationed just outside, he desired her. Knowing that, at any moment, Azoth and his darling gang of brutes could come bursting through the door apparently had no effect on his hormones. He had chosen too well when he'd picked this body, Q thought wryly. One with less libido might have been a better selection. The part of him in question stirred, a blatant reminder of what he wanted. Surrendering to the urge, Q dropped one leg over Naomi's, pinning her to the bed. She stroked his thigh with her free hand, and he quivered. This was tremendously embarrassing for him, lying here naked, knowing someone might see him. Might see him at laugh at the mighty Q, reduced so low as to grunt and root in the dark like an animal, like one of them. He was about to back out, despite how far they'd come, when Naomi beat him to the punch. Q tensed in anticipation as Naomi's hand darted between his legs, and touched the source of his need, her knowing hands inciting him further. With a groan, his head drooped onto her chest, his last defense gone, needing this too much to deny. Naomi scooted herself under him, hands going to his hips, repositioning him deftly. He didn't resist. His body was more than eager to follow her lead in this matter. Q raised his head slightly and looked at Naomi, unaware of the pleading look in his eyes. **** Outside, in the common room, one member of the security team whistled softly, watching Naomi as she walked into the bedroom after Q. "What I wouldn't give to be in there right now with her." Veloz scoffed. "Like you'd ever survive the experience. She's the one who nearly broke up the bar down on B deck." The man grinned. "At least I'd die happy." Veloz sighed. So many idiots. So few phaser accidents. They sat there in silence a while longer, until Parkinson had another thought. "Still, that Allen sure is something. Didya see that ass? And that look. Ya gotta figure she knows what she's doing in there." Veloz sighed. "With Q." "Yeah. Damn, you gotta be some kinda man to handle a woman like that." "Perhaps she's the one handling him," Veloz suggested dryly. Parkinson guffawed coarsely. "I bet she is." Then he sobered. "Damn. And we're going to be on duty out here for the rest of the shift while he's in there screwing that hot little piece of ass." "Ever consider there might be a reason for that??" "Like?" "Like he's got something you don't?" Like a brain, Veloz added silently. The comment was apt, but they had to work together. "Like what?" Veloz shrugged. "Whatever it takes to attract a woman like that. Whatever you haven't got." "Ya think he's got something I don't?" "He's got Naomi." The killing rejoinder shut Parkinson up. Personally, Veloz didn't believe it, being unimpressed by Q. But this guy was even less impressive. The man idly turned on the medical monitor, then his face lit up. "Hey, look at these readings! You know what they're doing in there!" The third guard wandered over, looked at them and whistled. "Yep, you're right. Think we could get audio?" "Sure." The door to the corridor hissed open, and all of the guards swiveled, ready for anything. Commander Azoth entered. His gaze fell on the screen of medical read-outs. He scanned it, his own knowledge and the guilty faces turned towards him giving him its meaning. "Shut that off," he snapped. Parkinson instantly complied. "But, commander..." Azoth silenced him with a single grim glare. "Convince me that you are security guards and not voyeurs and I won't put the lot of you on report. Understood?" "Yes, sir," they chorussed, Veloz darting an angry glance at the other two. **** Naomi reached out to Q, gathering him close to her, urging him silently with her body to go on. Q shuddered at the feeling of her warm nakedness pressed intimately against him. It couldn't be right to do this. But he couldn't stop himself. And didn't really want to. She wasn't touching him there anymore, and he missed it, had to have more. With a sigh of surrender, he plunged into her, freezing as the delicious sensation washed over him. Oh, yes. This. This was what he needed. Naomi pulled him down to her, hands demanding, hips rocking under him. Q came down to meet her, covering her with his body, letting her set the pace. He could deny her nothing at the moment. It felt good, and that was all that mattered. Naomi bit him on the shoulder, and he flinched, a small shock of pain going through him. That definitely did not feel good. Q looked at Naomi, startled. Her face was tense and drawn, lost in her own need for this, for him. Her own eyes were a little desperate, and he could see her need for him. He didn't feel capable of giving her what she so obviously wanted. Getting bitten again didn't appeal either though. And he wanted to please her. Naomi sighed as Q bent his head to her and kissed her. Better. His weight, welcomingly heavy on her, combined with the feeling of his lips on hers, was almost enough to compensate for the crushing loneliness and emptiness inside her. As always, each time he reached out to her on his own was a miracle. Even now, after all they'd gone through, he was usually prickly and defensive with her. Having him deliberately touch her, deliberately try to give her pleasure thrilled her and made her heart beat wildly with joy. Kissing her wasn't bad, but she wasn't biting him anymore, and that made him happy. Q was rapidly discovering that women could be very complicated. Naomi reached up, hands tangling in his hair, urging his head closer to hers. Q did not resist, caught up in the sensations rushing in from his body. The feel of her body naked against him, breasts pushed into his chest, and above all else, that wonderful, liquid warmth encasing him. Disgusting, horribly disgusting. Q didn't stop what he was doing. Then the warmth rushed over him, followed by a thousand prickly sparkles and he hung suspended on the edge of a high cliff, before falling endlessly into ecstasy. Q shuddered and cried out, neck going rigid, the soft sound lost against Naomi's mouth. She looked up at him with liquid, luminous eyes, and he rested his head against hers, lungs heaving as though he'd just run a race. Lightly, Naomi drew her fingernails across his back, causing him to shudder again as the sensation set off tiny aftershocks inside him. Unable to take anymore, Q moved to lay next to her, holding out his arm for her. Naomi came to him, huddling in the curve of his shoulder. Tired as he was, he looked at her, a question in his eyes. She wanted something and he knew it. He wasn't terribly practicing at giving her what she wanted, although he'd tried. Naomi seemed to appreciate his efforts, although Q was certain he wasn't dextrous enough to be giving her any real pleasure. On the other hand, her physical reaction was extremely impressive, and worth the effort put into it. He'd try anything to keep her. For all his dislike of exposing his vulnerabilities to anyone, he could appreciate the value of the gift she gave him freely of her loyalty and friendship. He didn't want to lose that. Naomi responded without saying a word, hooking a leg over his, lying next to him, head pillowed on his arm in the same position she'd been in moments before, legs spread slightly and knees bent. She looked over at him with anticipation. This was so new to her, to him. Each time was a little different, and his reactions were not anything you could call normal. She found not knowing to be exciting. Without a word, or a change in his slightly mocking expression, he reached for her, his free hand tracing a path from her throat to her breast, circling around it. Naomi closed her eyes, concentrating on the physical sensation. The hand stayed tauntingly away from her nipple, long fingers dancing around it, stroking the less sensitive skin around it. Naomi raised her body to him, silently begging for a deeper touch. Instead, the teasing hand went away, moving down towards her hip, leaving her nipple burning behind it. Naomi almost cried out with frustration, at the craving created then left unsatisfied. Then suddenly, warm moist heat surrounded her nipple and she gasped at the feeling of his mouth suckling on her. She could feel the sensation echoed deep within her, and she stretching out her body, opening more of herself to him. Oh, yes. That felt good. Very good. Q seemed to be a very fast learner. When he wanted to be. Light fingers pulled at the auburn curls at the juncture of her legs, and Naomi gasped, a sharp jolt of pleasure running through her. His mouth was still nuzzling her breast. All of the sensations were too intense, too much teasing when was she needed was a direct touch. She needed more. Naomi arched into, hands going to his shoulders, futilely grappling with his bare arms. She couldn't seem to think, couldn't seem to put into words what she wanted. She wanted him to stop, wanted more, and the contradiction was confusing with the rush of sensations travelling through her body. Q raised his head to look at her, and Naomi sighed in relief as the horrible teasing sensation was gone. She opened her eyes to look at him, her body resting for a moment. That worked, but it still wasn't enough. His dark eyes fastened on her, an almost amused quirk coming into them. Naomi shuddered. This was no time for games. And then first a finger dipped inside her, stroking her hot wetness. Naomi sighed with relief at finally getting what she needed. Yes. That was it. Perfect. Exactly. Now if it could just be more, and a little higher... And then his mouth was on hers, and she reached up for him, twining herself against him, pressing herself against him, trying to get as close to him as she could. She needed the contact, needed desperately to relieve the tension and the lack of him that had been consuming her since this silly assassination watch began. Sweet tension mounted inside her now, a need building, redoubling with each deft caress of his fingers. Oh, yes. That was what she needed. Naomi surrendered to the feeling, giving up control to Q, wanting only to lose herself in the sensations he was causing in her body. Q found the actions he was performing marginally to somewhat disgusting. At some level, he had managed to condition himself into being repulsed by sex, despite his body's own natural urges. Repeated exposures to the erotic experience by Naomi had given him a wider view, but he had moved only a little further than where he started. His body's physical desires spilled over into his dreams and waking thoughts, not completely against his will anymore, although he certainly wasn't summoning those images on his own. He needed Naomi, and not simply for what she could give him physically, although Q admitted guiltily that that was a component. Guiltily, because if there was anything Q did not want, it was to be some lovesick sex-crazed lapdog, and the idea of it, and the idea that he might be turning someone else into the same kind of sex object, made him sick. He was not that enslaved to his bodily needs. No, he needed Naomi because of what she gave him, and because she was irreplaceable. He couldn't undergo the trials of letting someone close to him again. An image of Harry Roth flashed through his mind, and Q shuddered slightly. He still could feel the humiliation of lying there, watching Harry realize how little Q knew, and how naive and inexperienced he really was. He couldn't do that again. Q conveniently forgot that it was Naomi who had taken on most of the burden of getting close to him, and that he hadn't let her all that close. To Q, the risk was greatest on his side, because he had the most to lose from a betrayal. And in a way, he was right. Naomi gave him a connection to the bizarre and frightening world of human social interactions, a need he hadn't known he had until it was fulfilled. He'd thought that having people angry at him was reasonably normal; he didn't have the power to compel their respect anymore, after all. But with Naomi at his side, he had someone to intercede for him, to keep the worst of the yammerheads away from him, and most inexplicable of all, people respected him for having Naomi. He couldn't understand that at all. She also provided him with friendship, and he owed her a good deal for that. She had not broken her word to him, had proven herself entirely loyal and trustworthy. She gave to him, and even claimed to care about him. But best of all, she was bright enough to not bore him completely in a conversation with her. For that alone, he would have allowed her to stay with him, simply as an antidote to the colossal, crushing monotony inflicted upon him by the freshly brainscrubbed Starfleet types. For those reasons, to keep Naomi, Q would have exerted himself to great lengths. Even including leaving her wardrobe alone, if she had asked. What was a little physical indignity? It wasn't as if she'd asked him to do something he would have rather died than do, such as telling her he loved her. Ack! How nauseating! No, all she wanted was a few moments of his time, a trivial physical expenditure on his part, and that was that. Q was more than willing to give her that, for what he got in return. Certainly, he wasn't enjoying kissing her. He got absolutely no pleasure at all out of the sensation of his mouth on hers, the heat of her mouth mimicking the feel of her mouth on another part of his body. Watching her writhe in ecstasy as a result of what he was doing to her, softly moaning his name, did nothing for him at all. Absolutely nothing. Q moved down, placing kisses on the line of her throat, and then positioning his head over her breast. It had worked well enough before. Why not again? Naomi couldn't bear it any longer. The feeling of his mouth moving against her breast sent her over the edge, falling apart as the tension culminated in an explosion of bliss. She stifled the cry she needed to make, turning her head into Q's shoulder, trying desperately not to make a sound. She had no idea how much the Security team could hear, and she didn't want to find out by having someone make a rude comment about her howling. Even if it was more or less true. After it was over, Naomi clung to Q for a long moment, not wanting to let go, to acknowledge the reality of what sat outside their door, and hovered over their heads. But their physical needs satisfied, and hormones dealt with for the moment, reality was impossible to deny. **** Naomi and Q dressed hurriedly, neither of them looking at the other. Somehow, now that the need to physically join together to ward off the feeling of danger that surrounded them had passed, they both felt extremely self-conscious and aware of the three guards sitting next door with nothing to do but listen to the silence. Or lack thereof. The two of them sat on the bed together, both fully dressed right down to the footgear, as if the clothing were any protection against the danger that threatened them. Q sat upright, a pillow behind his back, with Naomi lying curled up next to him, cradled in the curve of his arm. Neither of them said a word, both of them simply staring ahead, keeping a silent vigil throughout the long night, taking what small comfort they could from each other's presence. Both of them were intimately aware of the Security detail positioned outside the door. At any time, Security could decide they needed to check on something and barge in. Or worse, at any time, they could be found by the alien force outside the starbase and killed or beamed away. There was no safety, no haven. Only the little, cold comfort they could take from being together. **** Commander Azoth found them in the morning, when he entered to check on them. Their lifesigns had been monitored from outside, of course, with intriguing results for those interested in such prurient details, which Azoth was not. The computer was also keeping a constant watch on them, but seeing Q was a much more satisfying proof of his continuing existence. The Security commander entered the room quietly. Azoth stalked silently over to the bed, not wanting to startle them, but not wanting to warn a potential assassin either. Q was propped up on the bed, half-upright, fast asleep. Naomi lay curled up next to him, nestled trustingly against Q. There was nothing risque about their positioning. Both were fully clothed. And yet, Azoth felt as though he'd crudely thrust himself into the most intimate scene possible. There was something pathetic, and yet noble, about the way they were lying there, two people caught up against a storm of events they could neither understand nor survive. Azoth shook his head, muttering to himself. "You're getting soft and sentimental, old man." In a move uncharacteristic for him, rather than waking the slumbering pair, Azoth returned to the common room, and hit his comm badge to call Q. Ordinarily, he couldn't care less about the privacy of the people he was guarding. But somehow, it seemed wrong to intrude on that scene. **** Naomi sat at her terminal, trying to concentrate on her mail. She was behind, and needed to catch up, but none of it made any sense. It was all inane, trival nonsense. What did any of it have to do with the danger they were in? She'd moved her work into her own room. Going to the lab was out of the question. Not only would it have meant leaving Q behind, which she would not do, even though he never would have admitted wanting her there with him, but then she'd be outside of Security protection. They were following Q around, not her, but she felt a lot safer with them here. So she'd went off into her own room, and pulled up her mail which had been piling up as she ignored it in favor of trivial matters such as assassination attempts. She could be with Q, who was undoubtably torturing the Security guards, but even though they'd tacitly admitted to being lovers the evening before by spending the night together in front of witnesses, it just wasn't the same. She couldn't give that much away. She could feel the looks of the Security officers, and she could tell what they were thinking. Naomi found that she liked being under constant scrutiny no more than Q did. She wanted to scream at them to go away and mind their own business. But that would be rude, even if the Security team would have gone away, which they probably wouldn't. This morning, her fears of the night before seemed petty. She'd been jumping at shadows. There was nothing to be scared of. How many times had Q been attacked? 20? 30? Some horribly huge number. And he was still alive. The Security team, despite their voyeuristic tendencies, were competent people. She was silly to spend her time worrying about Q being killed. Everything would be all right. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. Behind her, a figure shimmered and appeared. Naomi didn't turn, hearing nothing. Suddenly, without warning, fingers of fire were in her mind. She screamed and fell to the floor, images of Q flashing unbidden through her head. In the next room, the Security guards jumped to their feet. Commander Azoth beat them all to the door. Under his astonished eyes, Azoth watched as Naomi and a reptilian alien shimmered and disappeared. She'd been beamed out of there! He tapped his comm badge immediately. "Azoth to all security personnel. Dr. Allen has been abducted." Q was no more than a second behind Azoth, despite the fact that he'd been the furthest away. He pulled Azoth bodily out of the way, with no regard whatsoever for the commander's size or rank, stumbling into the room. It was empty. She was gone. Anguished, he stood in the center of the room, looking up and outward at something unseen. Q howled, "It's not fair! It's not fair, do you hear me? It's me that you want! Not her!" Behind him, Azoth turned and shot a look at the other members of the Security team, measuring them. "Veloz, you stay with Q. The rest of you, out of here." Veloz stepped obediently forward, taking a defensive position in Naomi's room. There was nothing that could be done against aliens who could beam someone out of the Starbase without engaging any of the defenses, even the passive ones. But the job of a Security officer was to try. Q collapsed on the floor in a heap, anger dissolving into grief. "No!" Mercifully, the door closed on him before he started crying, although Q was unaware of it, oblivious to everything but his own pain. All Q was conscious of was the enormous hole suddenly ripped in his soul, previously filled with a tiny slip of a girl. There was a horrible unfairness to this situation. Q curled in on himself, instinctively assuming a fetal position. Not Naomi. Why Naomi? He was the one to blame. He admitted that. Not anyone else. Not, *not* Naomi. Tears rolled down his face, hoarse sobs racking his body. Naomi. Naomi had been taken instead of him. Depression swamped him, deeper than he'd ever known it. Why were people always sacrificing themselves for him? Data, Ohmura... He could tell them he wasn't worth it. His pathetic little human life wasn't worth the people who kept throwing themselves away for him. Q wept unconsolably, causing Veloz to shift uncomfortably. Grown men weren't supposed to cry like this. And seeing Q do it was worse, because it contrasted so strongly with his usual pose of arrogance and invulnerability. That Q could care this much about someone, anyone, made him seem almost human, but that couldn't be true. There was no one further from humanity. Except for Parkinson, who was a complete pig. **** Without warning, the commodore was interrupted in the middle of her already busy morning, made even busier by the complication of Dr. Allen's kidnapping, by another crisis, an urgent message from the Dilkinen ship. Her screen lit up with a picture of the Dilkin captain. Anderson's eyes snapped fury. Azoth had already informed her of Dr. Allen's disappearance. Before she could say anything, the Dilkin spoke. "Commodore Anderson. We are in possession of Q's paramour. Do not attempt to rescue her or we will harm her." And then the transmission was cut off. Anderson sat there fuming. She had quite a lot she wanted to say to the Dilkinen, and much more she wanted to do. Damn it, where was the Defiant? She needed the Defiant, needed its abilities. The Dilkinen ship was cloaked with a technology she could not defeat, leaving her helpless to respond as she wanted. **** Q paced his chambers restlessly, giving his guards fits. Each of them was watching him closely. Q found that extremely stupid. Obviously the Dilkweeds could beam him out of here at any time they chose. Watching him was hardly going to help. Knowing that all of them were aware of his previous loss of control was especially hard to bear. He hadn't been able to hide his emotions, and he regretted that deeply. He could handle it now, and despised himself for overreacting so much to Naomi's disappearance. She wasn't that important. How many people had he seen tortured and killed? What was the limited mortal concept of death to him? He'd seen, and frequently been the cause of, more havoc than anyone here could even imagine. Far more pivotal figures had fallen than one mortal woman. Q had even seen his own kind go through the Q analog of death, and that was far more shattering than anything at the mortal level, which wasn't even permanent. Nothing more significant than changing a filename on a computer program. Naomi was just the single person who cared about him at all. Only that, and somehow that made her important. Q couldn't stand being around the Security guards, but he had no choice. None of them were about to let him out of his sight. Q imagined that if Azoth had dared, he would have had Q tied to one of the Security officers. In truth, it had crossed Azoth's mind, but since Q's life was already in danger, there was no reason to endanger it further by tying Q to someone capable and willing to physically defend themselves from Q's annoying ways. **** The Dilkin leaned over Naomi, and she braced herself, trying not to show how scared she truly was. She couldn't get over how impersonal this was. She was nothing more than an object to them, and she couldn't understand. The Dilkin read her thoughts as easily as if she'd spoken them out loud and bared his teeth. "Hasn't the Gnosos told you yet?" Naomi shook her head. The Dilkin clicked his teeth. "Why should he? The story does not flatter him. Let me show you." And without warning, the Dilkin was inside her head with her, a mental invasion Naomi was unprepared for, despite the earlier attack. The feeling was like cold fire, and she wanted to scream, to hit at her head until it stopped or her mind stopped, but before she could take action, she fell out of consciousness and into a waking dream. She was standing on a vast plain, surrounded by hundreds of her own kind, as a star fell from heaven. They watched in amazement, as they did not die, and the star solidified into a burning form. The star spoke, and all there heard. The being was energy and fire, and his name was Gnosos. Gnosos set a trial before them, a test of their worthiness to be his chosen people. From the assemblage, he chose two lovers to take his challenge, and they willingly accepted the honor, and all the people cheered their courage and bravery. Naomi's perspective shifted, and suddenly she was on the side of a mountain, and she knew she was inside the memories of one of the Dilkinen champions. They had endured numerous hardships to reach their goal, one of them, the female, cutting her feet deeply but bravely continuing to go forward with their quest, determined not to let something like physical weakness stop her. But it wasn't enough. From a small still place inside, Naomi watched in horror as the other fell, slipping off a ledge and hitting several times until she came to rest on a ledge far below. The other Dilkin called to her, and his companion answered. Miraculously, she had survived. He praised Gnosos for that, and immediately set out to rescue her. But there was no way of rescue. She was out of reach, too far down, on an unscalable cliff. The other's desperation and grief saturated the memory, as he paced and wailed, valuable time slipping away, and no help could be given. The Dilkin who lay below was his mate and he could not conceive of leaving her there to die of her injuries, but he had to, he had to. Inside, the spark of Naomi remaining that was not unconscious was crying out, pounding at the inside of whatever mind that held her. That cliff was not unscalable. She could have climbed it. She knew how. But the memories moved inexorably on. Finally, the Dilkin left the cliffside, calling out a promise to return when he had dealt with Gnosos' challenge. He was determined and brave. At the end of his path, at the place Gnosos had appointed, there awaited a shimmering wall. The champion was afraid, but he knew he could not turn back. He could not fail Gnosos. He walked forward through the shimmering light held up in the air, and was surrounded by the worst pain he had ever felt in his life. Although much was deflected by the toughness of his skin, he fell to his knees, managing with his last strength to throw himself through the shining wall. As he laid on the other side, in pain, bizarre pulses of light moving through his body, a hideous form stooped over him. He did not recognize it, but knew immediately that it must be the trial Gnosos had prepared. And he was unready and unworthy. He had failed the challenge of the shimmering wall and he was now defenseless on the ground. He tried to get up, but his body was not his own. He could only lie there as the creature descended on him, blocking out his view of the sky. And then the burning began. Naomi screamed, her throat raw, unable to even hear herself screaming, as she felt the echo of his pain, the burning every Dilkin had felt in their minds since the origin of the Ritual. Eventually, he died, but the burning did not relent. The beasts had come, unstoppable by any means, and then the desecration began and no Dilkin could feel anything but the fire and the burning. Every Dilkin since felt that burning in their minds as though they had stood there that long ago day. Memories kaleidoscoped now, a continually shifting patchwork of individual memories, each soaked in fear and pain. Gnosos had killed their champions and abandoned their race to its tormentors, and the Dilkinen despised his name. He was a demon to them, as he had been an angel before. He was the one responsible for their destruction, for their betrayal to their torturers. Their minds had bent under the weight of the assault from the alien predators. Fire and pain, gouging at their minds, stealing all that was Dilkin from them, leaving the victims mindless, no thoughts left. Their champion, the one who had not died alone and friendless on a ledge, had been the first to have his mind and will ripped from him. But he was only the first in a struggle that mentally maimed over three quarters over their population. Only their own strength had saved them, as desperation and pain forced them from their old established ways, and caused them to burn new channels into their brains, to find access to the telepathy lying latent in all Dilkinen. The solution came too late, found only over the mindless husks of their friends and family. By the time they discovered how to shield, how to use their minds as a weapon to kill the beasts which ravened through their minds, it was too late. The surviving few regained their sanity and their freedom to find a bitter, desolate world and a victory not worth winning. **** The Dilkin sighed heavily. "All today experience that time as though they lived it. No one is unaffected by it. The demons each hold in our minds were put there by Gnosos. The energy that burns must be purged if we are ever to live free." Naomi did not understand. The great depression of the survivors of that terrible cataclysm still hung over her, enshrouding her thoughts and burying her own self in an endless wail of grief and pain. "And we all hold in our minds the desire to repay the wrong that was done us. It will be repaid, in the old way." Naomi looked blankly at him, her mind still burning in a way she could not understand, although he was no longer invading it. Dimly comprehending that a response was required, she repeated his last words. "The old way?" The Dilkin nodded. "You have seen it." And then, despite the impairment of her faculties, Naomi understood. That thought managed to penetrate even her numbed stupor, as she realized what the Dilkin meant. The sympathy she had briefly felt for the Dilkinen was wiped away, the depression swamping her pushed back by the outrage she felt on her own behalf. They were going to torture her and then kill her! And they called that more moral than Q? The Dilkin responded to her thought. "We have been forced to do this by his actions. You are a regretful sacrifice, but truly, anyone who consorts with Gnosos chooses his own destruction." And then the Dilkin left her alone, fully cognizant of the manner of her death, to wait. **** Q paced the length of the room in front of Commodore Anderson's desk, impatient at waiting for the Dilkinizers to contact them. They'd demanded that he show up, and refused to talk until he could be found. And then they'd closed the connection, not even bothering to wait until he could be found. Anderson frowned at the sight of Q's anxiety. It was hardly good bargaining strategy to let your opponents know how much you wanted the thing you were negotiating for. It only raised the price. She'd rather not have him here at all; he was an unknown quantity in any situation and liable to do just about anything. She'd prefer to handle this herself. "Q, sit down." Q paused for a moment, looked at her and resumed pacing. "Q," Anderson said, steel in her voice, "sit *down*." He looked at her again, weighed the possibility of her using security guards to force him into a chair, decided she wouldn't dare, and continued pacing. "Q, if you continue this juvenile trotting about, the Dilkinen will undoubtably conclude that you are worried about Dr. Allen. If they believe you're worried about her, then they'll realize that all they have to do to get you is hurt her. Do you want that?" This time, Anderson's words struck home. Q slumped sulkily into a seat. She had a point. "Can't you just fly off and rescue her? What would you have done if they'd gotten *me*? Just played tiddlewinks until Starfleet could come to my rescue?" Anderson was spared from coming up with an answer to that by the chirping of the comm. The Dilkinen ship had contacted them again. She put on her best professional face, preparing herself for the upcoming encounter. Her back nagged at her, and she did her best to channel that pain into a useful anger. She'd need all the resources she could muster for this conversation. "You are holding Dr. Naomi Allen," Commodore Anderson stated in a hard voice. "If you do not return her immediately, the Federation will consider this an act of war." The Dilkin was unimpressed. "You will deliver Gnosos, called Q, to us or we will kill the woman." The Dilkin captain, a male, looked out of the screen at Q. "Her death will be on your conscience, Gnosos. We know she is your mate." The name Gnosos hit Q hard. He could barely remember the name Dilkinen, hardly remembered the species at all, but he remembered who *he* had been. Gnosos. A being of light and fire. The incident with the Dilkinmutts came back to him. He had been cruising along the universe, idly passing the time, when he came across a crisis waiting to happen. A telepathic predator race, barely sentient at all, whose only use for its mental powers was death and torture, was about to devour a race of mostly gentle reptiles. The reptiles had possessed the latent power to link on a very deep level as a whole. Q had chosen to intervene and give them an opportunity to survive, setting up a test, which, if they had passed it, would have given them access to their own powers of the mind, which would then have enabled them to turn the predators aside on their own. But the reptiles had failed to access those powers, failed even in following his very basic rules, and Q had passed on. Watching mortals die was hardly amusing. Apparently some remnant of their people had survived, and blamed him. How childish. Anderson was speaking. "...we will not surrender Q to you. The Federation will not be bullied by terrorists." Q realized that something else had also been said. Something about Naomi... being his... mate? Where had they gotten an idea like that? Had they talked to her? Tortured her? Anderson's prior words came back to him. 'If they believe you're worried about her, then they'll realize that all they have to do to get you is hurt her.' Q knew what he had to do. He had to make them believe that Naomi had lied, or been mislead. He couldn't let them know that she mattered at all to him. "You're deluding yourselves if you think I care about Dr. Allen," Q said snidely. "I admit we have had a relationship, but frankly, I was just getting what I could out of her. I have no interest in inferior creatures such as humans. I certainly would never care about one enough to even consider placing my own safety as risk for one." After a moment's startlement, Anderson backed him up. "Your own history should show that Q is incapable of caring for anyone. Certainly, if he were the kind of person who would be willing to sacrifice himself for Dr. Allen, he would not have done whatever it was you are accusing him of doing." The Dilkin captain ignored that. "Gnosos' crimes are well known by all Dilkinen. The woman will end her life as another crime of Gnosos." Anderson couldn't answer that, and she damn well wasn't going to let Q answer it. "Dr. Allen is a valuable Federation asset. If you do not return her immediately, unharmed, we will be forced to take very drastic action against you." The Dilkin captain colored a shrug. "You have heard our demands." Then he was gone. Q looked at Anderson. "Is that it? That's the best you can do?" He imitated her tone derisively. 'Be forced to take very drastic action'. Ooh, I'm *so* scared." Anderson rubbed her temples. "Q, get out." **** The Dilkin bent over Naomi. It was the same one who had shown her the scenes from the past. Naomi recoiled instinctively, and the Dilkin bared his teeth. "You're frightened. It does not matter." She forced herself to lie still, to show no reaction. It was the only kind of victory she could win over them. They didn't seem to want anything from her, not information, not begging, not pain. All they wanted was Q. "Exactly. The Anderson does not let Gnosos come. But Gnosos will come. For you." Naomi's heart sunk. Not that. Not Q in their hands too. That would be too much to bear. Of course, Anderson would never let him come. The Dilkinen would have to kidnap him like they had her, and she was sure that Q was being kept under much better guard now that she'd been abducted. The Dilkin almost chortled. "Gnosos will come. You have told us how he needs you. Your suffering will bring him." She hadn't told them anything. If the Dilkinen knew anything, it was because they'd stolen the knowledge from her mind. Very unethical. A little late to report them to the authorities though. The Dilkin ignored her irrelevant thoughts, and pursued his own brand of torture. "Your part in the Ritual will be recorded for Gnosos. He will see what it is to be part of the Ritual." The Dilkin left her alone then, having given her enough information in its opinion for now. Even among its own kind, it was a pervert, pursuing other people's mental distress for its own pleasure. But it was also the one best suited for what needed to be done. Few of them wanted to actually perform the Ritual, but all of them wanted it to happen, agreed that it must occur. Gnosos deserved nothing less. Naomi laid there, the knowledge the Dilkin had given her preying on her mind. They were going to torture her, record it, and then try to use that to lure Q here. She hoped Anderson would stop him. She prayed Anderson would stop him. Or even that Q didn't really care about her and would stay safely on the starbase, well away from these fiends. Even that would be preferable. But she didn't believe that. Hopeless romantic she might be, but at least a part of her believed that Q would try to sacrifice himself for her. Naomi thought that if he saw her in agony, he could possibly try giving in to the Dilkinen to save her. Which would be stupid, since she knew now that they were going to proceed with their ritual no matter what happened. She had to keep from crying out, from giving in. She wasn't a wimp or a coward. She could hold out. She knew enough about pain and fear from her rock climbing experiences to know that she had a fairly high resistance. She could hold out. At least enough to keep the Dilkinen from using her as a weapon against Q. An infinitely long time later, made longer by her total isolation and helplessness, the Dilkin returned. The Dilkin bared his teeth to her. "Do not warn Gnosos. If you do, it will spoil our recording. We will have to do it again." Naomi believed him. The Dilkin stroked her hair with a leathery palm and Naomi flinched in revulsion. "Suffer well." **** Naomi felt proud of herself, of her restraint and ability to master the pain. So far it had been nothing worse than she had sustained in the past through her own clumsiness. The Dilkin had beaten her mercilessly, taking apparent pride in the exactitude of the force it used. After each new bruise, it examined it, and if it found the bruise lacking, it battered that spot again until precisely the right degree of coloration and damage had been inflicted. Naomi was unaware of how she looked, of the sweat beading on her forehead, of the tight-lipped gruesome parody of a grin she wore. Her entire body was tense with the anticipation of pain. Her only victory had been in not begging, in not crying out; her own body told the lie to her feelings of triumph. And then her arm was stretched out, held implacably by the Dilkin, before being anchored and tightly restrained. With a feeling of horror, and the worst dread imaginable crawling sensation all over the cold sweat on her body, Naomi remembered the scene she'd been shown: the heroine falling off the ledge and landing on her arm. She started struggling, trying desperately to get away, but she was bound securely and couldn't move. And then a weight came down on her arm and she could feel it snap, could feel the bone shattering, and she screamed helplessly, all hope of control gone, the worst agony she had ever known shooting through her. The Dilkin unbound her arm, and it fell, the hand drooping unnaturally. Naomi sobbed, knowing nothing but the pain, unable to control herself. Despite the recording going on, she couldn't help it, couldn't restrain herself. She howled her distress, and when that did no good, she descended into racking sobs, all the pain she'd pushed aside, all the fear and despair she'd ignored, coming back to her redoubled. **** The transmission came in, unexpected and unwanted. It was sheerest luck that the Security team hadn't seen the transmission; however, after he'd reduced one of the guards into making death threats, Azoth had allowed him some time alone, only his vital signs monitored. Bad luck or good luck, was the question. A ping from the terminal announced the incoming message, and Q accepted it reluctantly. Input from the outside, any input, was marginally better than being locked inside his own skull. And it could be news. Instead, one of the reptilian Dilkinsects looked back at him. "Gnosos will surrender himself." Q sneered back. "You must be joking. If you want me, you'll have to take me. And this time you won't find it so easy." Which was a bluff, but they didn't have to know that. The Dilkignat showed no reaction. "Gnosos will surrender willingly." Q was about to repeat himself, when the image changed. A different room appeared on the screen, one of the Dilkibovines standing next to... Naomi! The sudden surge of joy Q felt was suddenly replaced by utter horror as he realized what was happening to her. Naomi was tied down, bruised, beaten, her face wet with tears. They'd tortured her. Aware he was being observed, Q tried to keep his face bland and indifferent. He didn't care about her. He had to remember that. If the Dilkilosers thought they were affecting him with this display, they'd use it against him, hurt her worse until she died or he gave in. He thought he was managing it, and then... then the most diabolic, obscene act he could imagine occurred, as the Dilkireptile standing next to Naomi held her arm out and deliberately and calculatedly snapped of Naomi's forearm. Q felt sick inside. That much pain... And then she started screaming. Q's blank expression turned to horror, hearing her scream, hearing her sob in anguish. It was all his fault. His fault that the only person he cared about had been snatched for use as a bargaining chip, and tortured for nothing she'd ever done. The screaming continued, and his heart tore inside him, leaving him exposed. A bitter helpless rage clawed at him, and his hands involuntarily went to the terminal, in a futile instinctive move to stop the obscenity depicted there. But there was nothing he could do. Naomi was there, on the Dilkipud ship, being systematically broken and there was nothing he could do about it. Hurt welled up inside him, and the screaming just went on and on. Q watched, unable to look away. The small, broken figure that was Naomi descended finally into hoarse sobs, but Q felt no relief. The weeping was worse, getting at a part of him he didn't want to acknowledge. She was the only friend he'd made here, one of the few beings he'd ever allowed close to him, and now, because of him, she was being torn apart. Q felt sick, diminished and hovering on the edge of some enormous emotional maelstrom. Everything he touched, died. The picture disappeared, replaced with the Dilkitrash captain. His color was triumphant. "There will be more, Gnosos. If you do not surrender." "I... I... surrender," Q said brokenly. "Transmit coordinates to us for pick-up. To remain there until pick-up. Do you agree, Gnosos?" The last was said with a hint of something like gloating. "Yes," Q said with an outrush of breath, and the transmission was cut off abruptly at the other end. Q stared at the blank screen, unable to look away, unable to move. He'd saved the transmission into a private file. Anderson would want to see it. For himself, he did not need to ever see it again. Every detail was permanently engraved into his mind. There was still time to change his mind, time to notify dear Eleanor and have her set up som brilliant ambush for the Dilkinheimers and have Security work its little heart out trying to save Naomi. And Q was *so* confident of their abilities. Naomi's anguished face flashed across his mind again. The Dilkimoonies had shown that they had no problems with causing Naomi pain. Q had no doubts about their ability and determination to kill her if he did not comply with their demands. Q couldn't allow that. He would trade himself for Naomi. In some way, he deserved whatever tortures they chose to hand out to him. Although everything that had happened to their backwards species was a result of their own actions, he had played a part, however small, in the denouement. Naomi had not. His heart twisted. He could still hear her screaming, pleading for mercy. All he had to do was transmit a set of coordinates to the Dikdik ship and then be at the specified location at the time they gave him. They'd given him a pickup time when they'd have their long distance transporter focussed; he had only to give them coordinates and then be at those coordinates. Since Security had never tried to force him from his room, even when he was in trouble, he'd put under house arrest in his quarters, that was the most logical choice. If he picked any other location, he might have to do some explaining to his guards why he wanted to go there and that would never do. With a reluctant gesture, he transmitted the coordinates of his quarters to the waiting Dilkillers. He would take their bargain. **** "You've got me. You don't need her anymore." The Dilkin colored condescendingly. "We do. We must complete the Ritual." "Ritual? All you petty minded reptilian twits want is revenge. Just get it over with." The Dilkin demurred. "We want the Ritual. Expiation for your sins is not easily sold. You will know the pain you caused us, exactly as we felt it and feel it still." "You don't need her anymore. You promised you'd trade." Even in his own ears, Q's voice sounded whiny. The Dilkin did not move. "A deceit. Your willing cooperation was necessary." "Willing?" Q was outraged. And humiliated. Why had he ever believed the word of a treacherous race? Of course, he hadn't known they were treacherous, but what mortal race was not? He felt extremely stupid. Anderson had warned him, and he had ignored it. Now she had no leverage and the Dilkinen had the both of them. "Commodore Anderson will rescue us both. Why, there's a starship on its way here right now. And then you'll be sorry. You've got a war on your hands now!" "A lie. Did you forget, Gnosos, what your meddling left us with?" Q had no idea. The Dilkinswines were hardly a subject he'd paid more than a passing interest in. He'd seen a danger threatening their world, been sufficiently intrigued by them to give them a chance at defeating it, and when they'd lost, he'd shrugged them off and moved on. There were too many species in the galaxy to bother worrying about the inferior ones. "Of course I didn't forget." The Dilkin studied him with interest, knowing the truth from his mind. "A treat for you, then, the Ritual will be." **** The door closed behind Q. A moan from the darkness caught his attention. He hurried over, kneeling down next to the dark shape huddled on the floor. She looked up at the movement, and cringed. It was Naomi. Q said nothing, could say nothing. His mind was filled with too much rage and pain. What had they done to her? On the recording he'd seen, she'd been badly hurt, but nothing like this. The Dilkidicks must have kept going and going, long after the point they needed to convince him. Q choked back his anguish and rage to examine Naomi. Her arm was broken, and left untended, her eyes red and swollen from crying but her face dry, her hands cut and abraded as though someone had run an sander over them, and her feet torn into ribbons, as though she'd been flayed. Q swallowed hard, unable to even imagine how much pain she must be in. He knew it was more than he could ever endure and remain sane. He touched her shoulder gently, and spoke her name. "Naomi? It's Q." She seemed to come back from a long way away. Q? Q who? Then she remembered, and the knowledge crushed her. She had given in, had betrayed him, despite all her fine words about being loyal to him. She was weak and unable to withstand the pain they had inflicted upon her. Due to her weakness, not even Q was safe from them. Her eyes held no more tears, or Naomi would have cried then. The pain would have been easier to bear if she'd known he would live, if she hadn't believed herself to be at fault for bringing him here. His freedom had been the thought she focussed on as they held her arm rigid and snapped the bone. Q was safe. But he wasn't. Q was here, and now he would die too. Her suffering had been in vain, and there was no reason now to bear it, no reason to not actively seek her own death before the Dilkinen could bring it to her. Naomi turned her head painfully to look at him. He was unharmed. For a moment, joy welled up in her as she thought perhaps he had come to rescue her. Then even more crushing despair hit. That couldn't be true. There'd be a medical team here immediately, and she'd be drugged to the gills. So Q was a prisoner too, although he hadn't been tortured yet. Unwillingly, her mind flashed to the scene the Dilkin had shown her. The chosen champion desperately trying to save his partner who lay broken and bleeding on a ledge far below. His attempts failing, until finally, he left her there to die and went on to try to achieve their goal. But separately, he could not survive the challenge, and after taking an immense electrical shock, he was captured and in that weakened condition, unable to fight, his mind was eaten by the predators waiting for him. His partner had died, betrayed, and the Dilkinen champion had died in vain. That would be Q's fate. But there was nothing in that which allowed her and Q to ever meet again. Naomi stared up at Q, uncomprehending. Why was he here? Why had the Dilkinen allowed this? Q couldn't understand why Naomi wasn't responding to him. What was wrong with her? What had they done to her? He sat down heavily. Their only hope now was that Anderson would get out of her chair and do something. What, he had no idea. The Dilkinburgers had no real technology to speak of, and they weren't aligned with the Federation. Blowing them up would be easy. On the other hand, they were powerful telepaths, and getting prisoners off a Dilkmilk ship without having your own mind taken over would be next to impossible. Nonetheless, there were only so many of the Dilkingtons, and a starship had a large crew. Overwhelming them could work. Then Q thought of Picard. Disgust filled him. Yes, he'd forgotten how Starfleet operated. The Starfleet captain, whoever it was, if there was one, would probably *negotiate*, and by then, both he and Naomi would be dead. Death no longer looked nearly as enticing as it had on previous occasions. The notion of taking Naomi with him was extremely unpalatable. Naomi reached out to Q with her good hand, wanting to reassure herself that he was real. Her hand landed on his leg and hit solid flesh. Q covered her hand with his own. Naomi sighed brokenly, too spent for tears. "It is you. Why did you have to come?" "What, and miss all this?" She punched him feebly, barely even moving her hand, unable even to disturb his. "Not funny." The sadness of it all overwhelmed her again. He was here and he was going to die. "You shouldn't have come." Q shrugged, his hand warm on hers, fingers absently caressing her hand. "It was inevitable." She closed her eyes, remembering what the Dilkin had showed her. "I suppose it was. But still... I wish you were safe." He raised an eyebrow. "How about you? No selfish wishes for your own safety?" Her lips quirked ever so slightly. "Nah. It was inevitable." Naomi looked up at him, hovering almost protectively over her in the gloom. He was concerned about her, but still his own flippant self. Somehow, that made her feel better, despite everything. "Would you hold me?" she asked softly, her tone plaintive. Q didn't move. "You've got a broken arm and you're thinking about *sex*?" Naomi choked back a snort of laughter. It hurt too much, but she couldn't help herself. "Please? Just hold me." "I don't think I could without hurting you." Naomi shrugged infinitesimally. "It doesn't matter. Everything hurts. It... it would be a great comfort if you would. Please?" Q raised her gently and slid under her, her body resting between his legs and her head pillowed against his shoulder. Her broken arm hung unnaturally on her top side and he was very careful not to touch it. Naomi made not a sound. While everything hurt, nothing was comparable to the lash of fire of her feet. Even the white hot pain in her arm faded against that constant agony. Being moved was nothing; as long as she didn't have to walk, Naomi was just fine. When he had her settled, Naomi sighed deeply. "Thank you. If I could die, I'd die happy." "If you *could* die?" Q asked curiously. "Oh, they won't let either of us die until it's time," Naomi said off-handedly. "I believe I get to starve to death. Yours is a little quicker." "How fun. I can see why tourism is one of their major industries." "Yes, it is rather obvious." The light bantering was soothing, keeping her from descending into the pit of pathos and grief that threatened to swallow her. A thought popped unbidden into her head, and she spoke it. "I don't understand why they put you here though. It doesn't fit. It's not in the script they're following." Q smiled harshly, a grim look which Naomi couldn't see coming into his eyes. "I know why." "Why?" "To torture me further, of course. To show me someone I..." he stopped himself. He'd been about to say something unacceptably sentimental. The Dilkslime were undoubtably listening, and would use any advantage they could as a weapon. Q eased his hold on Naomi to put less pressure on her bruises, and resumed stroking her ever so gently. Before, he could say anything, Naomi spoke. "To try to hurt you by making you see someone you knew in pain," Naomi finished. "Yes. Although if I'd been asked, I could have given them some suggestions on *who* to pick," Q said lightly, doing his best grumble. "I have some suggestions, too," Naomi said darkly. "Starting with the reptile who broke my arm." "I'm afraid they seem to want to do their ritual with some species other than their own as the intended victim." "Whyever for?" Naomi asked innocently. "I have no idea." Naomi rested her head against his chest, savoring the feeling of his warmth and strength. His even breathing, and the rise and fall of his chest under her cheek, soothed her. "I love you," Naomi said softly. "You know that, don't you?" The usual evasively sarcastic reply to that seemed out-of-place in their current situation. But it was a habit, and he said it anyway. "You say it often enough." Naomi would not be denied. "You do know I love you, don't you?" He didn't say anything. What could he say? That love was a joke, an illusion perpetrated by an ephemeral species to give them a reason to propagate? And a painfully harmful joke at that, causing countless beings to risk their hearts and lives for something that wasn't real. It was obviously true. If Naomi didn't believe in that ridiculous concept, she wouldn't be lying here against him now, bruised and battered in the name of love. But the truth of it only made it that much more dangerous a thing to believe in. If she'd hated him, like everyone else, she'd be safely back on the starbase. Q swallowed hard. For some reason, thinking about her and how she could be safe but wasn't, made emotion well up in him. How despicably weak. Naomi shifted slightly. He didn't seem to want to answer her, but she had to make her hear. In a small voice, speaking almost to no one, she said, "I have every expectation that we're going to die here. I can't quite imagine dying, but I know it means I'm not going to have many more chances to be with you, to tell you how I love you, how I like having you in my life, and how I wish that it didn't have to end so soon." She stared off at nothing in particular. "I don't regret anything. I wouldn't do anything differently. I just... just want you to know that." Naomi closed her eyes, tears beginning to leak from them. "Damn it, it's not fair. Why now? Why is it that when my life finally starts going right and I finally find someone I care about who cares about me that it all has to be over? What did I ever do?" She knew she sounded ridiculous, but she couldn't help herself. The rage and the grief roiling inside her made her want to cry and scream all at the same time. Q accepted her confession reluctantly, being unable to push her away when she needed him so much. He wanted her love, desperately needed someone to care about him. But now was not a good time. Of course, it could be the only time. "Naomi, I..." The words choked in his throat. He substituted others which he could say. "I don't want this to be the end, either." "What... what would you like it to be?" "A very bad dream." "That would be nice," Naomi said. "We're going to die, aren't we?" Q had no glib reply to that one. The Dilkiwastoids seemed very determined, and quite peeved for some reason. Dear Eleanor was undoubtably doing her best, but if she couldn't even prevent Naomi from being beamed off of the starbase, how was she going to stop the ship? Even if he were allowed to live, for later ransom, or further torture, Naomi had no value to them. Her untreated injuries spoke volumes about the callousness of their captors toward her. She would die, even if he did not. Q did care about Naomi, even needed her inasmuch as he was human and therefore, pathetically weak. And she was his friend, the only friend he had. How hard could it be to say a few words for her sake? Because they would just be for her sake, to make her feel better. Not because he *meant* them. No question there. No question at all. Because this might be the last chance he ever had to tell her, and because she would take comfort in them. Not because he needed to say them, or wanted to expose himself to someone else for comfort. Not because he himself was on the verge of tears over something historically insignificant against any of the great events of the universe. What was the death of two people against something like the sunkiller bomb in the heart of sigma-1014 Orionis? Nothing. He would have laughed derisively at himself once. Once. His hands supported her, one curving around her chin, holding her head close to him protectively, as if shielding her from a blow. "Yes. I think we are. Naomi..." He paused, having great difficulty speaking the words. The instinctive habit of shielding his true thoughts and emotions was too deeply entrenched in him. "Naomi, I care for you." There, it was out. Much relieved, as if that admission had made all the words easier to say, he spoke. "You have become very dear to me, and a friend." With a shock, Q realized that Naomi was *weeping* into his chest. Emotion burned inside her, as the tears fell uncontrollably, even a little hysterically. Q never said anything outright, never told the truth when it affected him personally, never exposed himself to hurt. She understood that, had accepted the need to watch his body language as a better clue to his feelings. Any not completely unkind word was, for him, an admission of sorts, a compliment. This... She cried helplessly. This undid her completely. She wept until she had no more tears in her, his hands against her comforting her. Naomi hiccupped. She couldn't acknowledge what he'd told her, without rejecting the precious gift he'd given her, without letting him know she was looking into his exposed soul. That would hurt him, and was the last thing she wanted to do. "If... if something happens and you make it and I... don't, you will remember what I said, won't you?" "Of course. I'll always remember you. But you're being quite silly. If I make it, you'll certainly make it also. Eleanor would be quite annoyed to find you'd been left behind..." Q trailed off as he realized he was talking to no one. As if his promise had been the reassurance she needed, Naomi had given up her hold on consciousness and slipped into slumber. Q didn't stop touching her, or let go of her. Who knew how much longer he'd be able to do this? Not that he wanted to, of course, or needed to. He'd always remember Naomi. There was no question of that. But he'd rather have the living article to make new memories with. As if he had any choice in the matter. **** "I should have had him in the brig. It should have occurred to me. There's no technology we know of that could transport him out through a force field. The Dilkinen could still transport in and take him out, but it would have been harder. We would have had some warning... a chance maybe." Anderson watched in suppressed fury as Commander Azoth tried to explain how Q had gotten away from him. She was angry, but not so much with Azoth as with herself. She should have taken better precautions. How she could have known this was going to happen, Anderson had no idea. It didn't matter. It shouldn't have happened, and that was that. The Dilkinen ship had immediately departed, as near as sensors could detect. While Azoth tried to explain his actions, they were getting away. And the Defiant had still not arrived. She had to do something. Anything. She could not let her charges be abducted, no matter her personal feelings towards the people in question, or the consequences to her career if they were not rescued. That didn't matter. None of it mattered. She wanted to get Q and Dr. Allen back because they were her people and she took care of what was hers. Now as to how she was going to do that, she had a few ideas. **** The Dilkinen had to physically tear Q away from Naomi. By now, she was only half-conscious, slipping more often into unconsciousness than not. The shock of injuries, and the untreated wounds, combined with the lack of sustenance had dealt a harsh blow even to her tough constitution. Once out in the corridor, Q went passively enough. What more was there they could do to him? Naomi was dying; he'd been in the state often enough to recognize the inner-directedness and the physical signs. She could still be saved if she received medical attention; he'd been brought back from far worse, but she was unlikely to receive that care here. Q did not think about his own fate. It hardly mattered. He'd been heading toward death ever since becoming human, and over the course of three suicide attempts, had become somewhat innured to the concept. Death was not an ending; he knew that. It would hardly be worse than what was happening to Naomi right now. They led him into a large room, filled with spectators. Q looked curiously around him. Why were so many of the Dilkbrains here? The recording of Naomi's torture had only shown the one Dilkpinhead. What about this was so fascinating to them? He was led to a piece of furniture something like a reclined chair, festooned with straps. With great dignity, Q seated himself in it. If he had to die, he'd die well. Q watched the blank faces. The expressions of the Dilkidumdums were impossible to read, but the avid way they leaned forward, and hushed to a silence as he was strapped in were immistakable signs of their interest. The head Diliklingon stood next to him. He raised his arms and spoke a few words in a language the universal translator refused to handle. They sounded pompous, and ritualistic. The crowd responded with a similar phrase, rising to their feet and shouting. Q looked back at them with an expression of extreme contempt, as if the best they could manage with their childish display was to bore him. Every line of his body spoke eloquently of his disdain for their silly Ritual, and his own self-control. It was an act, only an act. He was scared as much as he'd ever been in his life. But they didn't need to know that. The Dilkin glanced over at Q, baring his teeth, but did not speak. There was nothing to say. The anxiety and distress radiating from Gnosos' mind was pleasurably exciting, especially knowing what more was to come. With a fevered excitation, the Dilkin plunged the lever down and Q felt as though he'd been thrown into an force field and suspended there. Too shocked to cry out, Q could only endure as the electrical pulses raced through his body, a sharp tang in his mouth that could have been blood. The Dilkinen audience seemed as shocked as he. Some looked away, and many simply froze in their seats. The torture of another living being was painful to a telepath, even when that being so deserved it. Seeing it happen was another matter. But this was a primal event in their culture's history, the one thing that all of them remembered, the end before the beginning. The stimulus was abruptly removed and Q fell back into the chair, not even realizing he'd been straining against his bonds. He lay there, shaken, his mind disorganized and his body's responses not his own. He couldn't do that again. Another time would kill him. But then, that was the idea, was it not? The Dilkin inspected Gnosos carefully. Ritual called for the champion to be shocked just once at a certain level, but it had not been sure that Gnosos would survive the full charge, and had started out with a lesser amount. It examined Gnosos, and decided he was indeed too weak to survive the greater amount. With deep regret, the Dilkin discarded that part of the Ritual. It would have been best to do it perfectly, but the shock was not important. The last stage of the Ritual was the most important and must be done precisely. It would be its race's vengeance upon Gnosos and their absolution to their own gods for having failed. Q lay there in the chair twitching, his body not his own, mind coming back to him. He had to regain control, had to keep his dignity. He couldn't die in ignominy. With an enormous effort of will, he forced some semblance of stillness onto his body, and tried for a supercilious sneer. Again, the Dilkin raised his arms and shouted out to the waiting assembly. They responded with a less enthusiastic shout. Some of them were horrified by the state of this Gnosos. That he was the same Gnosos, all of them knew. They could feel the sameness in his mind. None had touched it before; no Dilkinen had been telepathic while Gnosos walked their planet, but what he was remained stamped indelibly in his mind for any who chose to look. But he was also not the same. Gnosos had been the energy that moves, possessing knowledge and power far beyond any mortal being. He had come to them as a falling star. This pitiful human was nothing more than a wrecked shell, and the Dilkinen present could feel it. But that did not stop the tide of vengeance. The Dilkin raised his arms. "Let the reckoning begin." The Dilkinen were powerful telepaths singly, but they also possessed the ability to join as one mind. Their mental abilities were all that had enabled them to survive the terrible time after their champion had died, its mind sundered by the Alamiran attack. Their psionic powers were innate skills, born into them, latent and never used until then, when the burning had wakened all of them to their full telepathic powers. The shock of that time had left the events branded into the minds of those Dilkinen alive at the time, and each generation had carefully transmitted the knowledge to its offspring. That group mind now formed to share in the event which would expiate the crime committed against their people, and allow them to forget. The attack was not subtle. A probe stabbed into Q's mind, and he reeled. They were telepaths! These hideous crawling creatures, who were capable of so much evil, were telepaths! Q had no idea where the telepathy had come from. As he remembered it, there were a bunch of crawling reptiles, hardly more evolved than Klingons. Q's goal was not that they achieve telepathy. His test for them had designed that they learn to use their ability to link as a group to overcome the threat waiting for them. He had never imagined that they could ever achieve the kind of high power telepathy which they so obviously had. Q had planned to use the two test subjects to bring out the Dilkinanite ability to link. Since the subjects cared about each other, it should have been a natural reaction to a telepathic peril. Once they learned this ability, they would have been able to teach it to the others. But did they appreciate his helpfulness? Nooo. They couldn't get anything right. The Dilkiprunes couldn't even make it *to* their test. When one of them fell off a ledge due to her own clumsiness, the other left her behind. How stupid you be? Even a human wouldn't make an error that basic. When the remaining Dilkisquash got to the appointed place and met his enemy, he was unable to focus his abilities on his own, since of course the natural abilities of their kind only worked in a *group*, and the resulting mess happened. At that point, Q gave up on them. No point in helping a race which wouldn't be helped. Obviously, he had been wrong. Terrified, Q fought back, putting up the best shields he could muster, not knowing what else to do but resist. He was going to be broken. His mind was going to be stripped from him. Even if his efforts were in vain, he had to do something. There was nothing worse that could happen to him than having his mind invaded and he couldn't let it happen. Knowing it was futile, knowing it was useless even to try, he called upon his disused skills and made of his mind a mirror reflecting back all intrusions back out, hopelessly trying to stave off the inevitable. He was not that which he had been, and it was useless to try, but he had to. To give up and give in were not qualities he was famous for. The probe stopped dead, and the feeling of invasion in his mind ceased. With surprise, Q looked up, to find the Dilkinators staring at him. He had defenses! He could shield! A tiny forlorn hope began to grow in his breast. Perhaps he could get through this with his mind intact. If given the choice, he'd rather die physically than have his mind destroyed. Q had no idea how much of his Continuum knowledge was applicable to his human situation, but apparently some of it was. He was not a telepath, but he could do some of the things that normally only a telepath could do. Apparently, the abilities were not directly linked to the possession of telepathy, simply merely things that only telepaths ever learned to do. A non- telepath would have no more need to learn them than a legless man would have a need to learn how to walk. The Dilkinen paused only a moment. More of them joined the effort fully, participating in the struggle, rather than simply observing. A stronger probe battered its way into Q's mind, and this time was not turned aside. Q called on more of the tricks he'd learned over eons of mental domination and skulduggery. Despite his best efforts, he could not turn it aside, only resist the damage it was trying to do. The sheer skill of his defense allowed him to protect himself longer than anyone else would be able to, but the raw strength of the Dilkinen attack overwhelmed Q. Information was being sucked from his mind as he swatted feebly at them, even as the greater part of Q's consciousness warded off the attack on his sanity and will. Information flowed from him in a stream, pulled out of him like a Ferengi pulling gold from one of his children's teeth. Q dimly felt the memories go, flooding out in a stream, each flashing by as though a constant stream of pictures were being thrust in front of him and then pulled away just as quickly: recent experiences; his concern for Naomi; their relationship, every nuance deftly extracted, including his own despicable feelings of need and caring for her which had allowed them to use her as a weapon against him; each of his suicide attempts in great detail, his deep slides into emotional degradation, depression and self-pity almost causing Q to lose control of his defenses as the emotions washed over him again; his various accomplishments for the Federation; his part in the rebuff of the Borg, and the brief moment of victory and oneness with the people around him; his loss of powers and failed sacrifice of himself to the Calamarain, that horrifying moment when the transporter beam had caught him and he realized his whole plan had gone for not, the first time he tried self-sacrifice, finding it empty then as well. Then the information flow stopped. Why, Q had no idea. Even though his memory was not what it used to be, having to fit into a limited human brain, he knew more than their entire species could ever hope to discover. An instant later, the probe stopped digging into the few defenses he still had, remaining in his mind, but no longer pounding at him, like a Romulan warbird hanging off the bow of a battered merchant freighter which was leaking atmosphere. Q didn't know why they were pausing, but he didn't care. It was enough that he had a respite. This was as close as he had come to having his mind torn from him, and he didn't like the experience. He could feel them in his mind, and they were... *bickering*? Q could just barely eavesdrop on the conversation. It was a brash move, a stupid one; it left him open to them if they noticed his intrusion or decided to begin the attack again. But he couldn't help it. The link was there, and he had to know what was going on. *This is wrong.* a voice said firmly. *If it was wrong for Gnosos to do this to us, then it is wrong for us to do it to Gnosos.* A chorus of voices wailed up, all saying the same thought, *We have to. It's the only way. Must stop the burning.* *It is wrong.* the firm voice said, and it was joined by others, who tinged the conversation with their distaste of violence and threw back at their adversaries the memory of Q's pain. The joint mind recoiled, the reflected pain worse for coming from within. *Gnosos is not mortal. His feelings are irrelevant.* said a very strong voice, the torturer who loved to torture. The firm voice who had objected threw back at it Q's memories of becoming human, his weaknesses, his fears, and his love for another. *Gnosos is more mortal than you. We cannot do this. We are not our enemies.* A muttering spill of thoughts ran through the group mind, and then the probe was gone. Q broke his own link to them just in time, and rested, concentrating on his shielding. It wouldn't do for them to discover his own sense of giddy triumph and relief at being spared this mental rape. It was obvious to him now that they had been able to read his thoughts all along. He should have guessed, but he had not. The Dilkinen pulled back to reconsider. There was enough dissent in their number to cause a reexamination of their course of action. While Q lay unremarked in the chair, the Dilkinen conferenced by mind, quickly coming to a decision. The Dilkin in charge of the Ritual stalked off, leaving another to unstrap Q from the chair. Dimly, Q wondered what was going to happen to him next. Were they going to return him to the cell with Naomi? Let them both die slowly? Or just wait for a while before killing him by more conventional means? Hands grasped him by the arms, and Q was dragged from the chair, pulling him along. Q wanted to resist, but he had next to no control over his body. Whatever they had done to him wasn't stopping. Erratic aftershocks ran through his nerves, short circuiting his ability to control any of his motions. He watched the floor move, unable to affect the outcome of this in any way. At the least, this would give Anderson more time to save them. Maybe they wouldn't die here after all. Or maybe he and Naomi would just starve to death in separate cells on an alien ship. Despondency overwhelmed him, and he didn't notice when a door swooshed open in front of him. Roughly, they dumped him inside and left him. The opening closed behind him and suddenly silence surrounded him. Q examined his surroundings. He was in a lifepod. They were letting him go! Relief flooded him. He was going to live! Once again, he'd survived against the worst of odds. Then he realized something. Naomi wasn't there. They hadn't brought Naomi. As quickly as the relief came, it left. The Dilkiorcs were letting him live, but it all had been in vain. Naomi was going to die, and his whole sacrifice had been useless. A wild hysterical laughter welled up in him, and he laughed until tears came to his eyes. The laughter started to sound like sobs then, and he shut it off with an effort. Then the door in the side of the lifepod opened again and Naomi was unceremoniously dropped in beside him. The wild feeling of joy rolled over him again, and the tears started again. They were going to live. It was going to be all right. Q glanced at Naomi. She was unconscious, still half- dead, but with proper care, she'd live. A jolt hit them, and Q knew they were being left behind. They would live, and Eleanor would find them. If she'd bothered to mount a search. Or was even looking in the right direction. A wave of sickening depression washed over him at that thought, and with a sudden burst of insight, Q realized the true horror of their situation, and the subtle cruelty of the Dilkadder plan. They were in a *lifepod*. They had a few days air at best, most likely no food or water, and if there were any communications gear or rescue beacons, they would be set to communicate with the Dilkimuds. There was no need for the Dilkipsychotics to exert any effort to kill either of them. He and Naomi were going to die right here, with no one touching either one of them. **** The Dilkinen realized that they were torturing a helpless man, not a vengeful demon. Perhaps Gnosos had once been a demon, but he was very much a human now, and what the Dilkinen had read in his mind could not be refuted. They knew the truth when they saw it in his mind, and the truth was that, whatever he had been, he was now a victim, prey rather than a predator. To punish him was to torment a helpless man and that was an action unworthy of their kind. Even if the ethical concerns had not stopped them, there were also the concerns for their own safety. They could not go ahead with their predetermined course of action. Torturing him and stripping his mind from him was unacceptable. The reverberations of that action could cause another disaster like the one they were trying to heal. His mind was too strong, and the spill over from his destruction could mark them all again, and this time they might not survive it. They couldn't just give him back. It wouldn't be enough. They needed to punish him, although they recognized now that they could not do it themselves without tainting their hands and their minds with his blood. Perhaps they should have thought of this before, but they were too focussed on getting to this point. But there was another alternative. Without discussion, the Dilkinen had agreed that the alternative was more than fair, and would satisfy their need for vengeance without putting the burden of guilt upon them for Gnosos' death. The Dilkinen decided that recreating the Ritual was too much, too much guilt for their own people to bear. Instead, they would let the universe kill their race's personal demon. No responsibility would fall to them, and their minds could not be sullied by his death-trauma. They put their captives in a lifepod, with no special preparations, only what was already there. The Dilkinen would neither help nor hinder the universe in killing Gnosos. The Dilkinen ship left their captives behind, speeding home to spread the good news of their race's final freedom from the mental torment and domination that had been their lot ever since Gnosos arrived on their home planet. **** The ship from Starbase 56 had been commandeered from a very unhappy Ferengi trader. Anderson had promised him compensation for his troubles, but that had not consoled the Ferengi. Ships which went deliberately into danger often came back shot up if they came back at all, and there was no profit in that. But the Ferengi merchant ship, *Profit Rules*, was the fastest currently docked at Starbase 56, and decently armed for a trading ship. Apparently sometimes weapons spoke louder than latinum. Anderson had no solid proof of where the Dilkinen had fled. Sensors had lost them soon after the Dilkinen abducted Q. Even then, the sensor contacts had been intermittent at best. All she had was her own instincts which told her the Dilkinen had gone home. She hoped to intercept the Dilkinen ship, and either persuade her to give over her prisoners, or hold them until the Defiant could arrive. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was a plan nonetheless, and she would do her best. "Lieutenant?" Anderson turned towards the lieutenant manning the sensors. "Do you have them yet?" "No, commodore. They're still cloaked. They could be light- years from here by now. We'd never know." Anderson drew herself up further, eyes hard. "We're not giving up that easily, Lieutenant. Keep looking." **** Q was all that remained between the two of them and death. But he was hardly in better condition than Naomi, who spent all of her time unconscious now, blood loss, shock and starvation having drained her system to the point that all it had energy for was keeping her alive. The shock Q had taken had disrupted the electrical fields of his body, sending charges down every pathway. It was as if he were trying to act under the influence of phaser stun. A stun that apparently never wore off. Or wouldn't wear off until it was already too late. The pulses moved intermittently through his body, leaving him only partially paralyzed, muscles clenching, then relaxing in a random pattern that was worse than if he'd been completely impaired. Painfully crippled, Q moved his body slightly, reaching for the instrument compartment. Luckily, in the cramped quarters of the lifepod, that wasn't very far. A lifepod wasn't meant to do much, but there should be some sort of communications device. Of course, it was probably meant to summon the Dilkoppwins, but perhaps he could do something about that. He had a fair knowledge of how computer operated systems worked, those being the only things he seemed to have control over nowadays. He worked steadily, without glancing at Naomi. He couldn't let himself think about her, couldn't look at her. He had to get her safely home, and thinking about how unsuited he was to that task and how likely he was to fail, were thoughts which would overwhelm him with despair. After more than an hour of steady work, Q had something would at least send out a beacon on Federation frequencies, and possibly even transmit a message via subspace. He fidgeted with it a little while longer, postponing the moment when he'd have to lie back down and face the total helplessness and hopelessness of their situation. With a narrowing of his eyes, Q set the device to work. It was their only hope of rescue, and he couldn't delay activating it to give himself something to do to make himself feel better. No matter how much he wanted to. **** The *Profit Rules*, with her makeshift Starfleet crew, picked up the beacon less than a day out of the starbase, in their own backyard still. Their quickness in catching up to it had a lot to do with Anderson's own urgency rather than its closeness, however. Immediately, the lifepod was retrieved, and the medical team dispatched on the double, the two lifesigns aboard very weak by any measure. Anderson followed on their heels, but it was out of duty rather than any personal feelings of her own. At least, that's what she told herself as she rather unprofessionally bolted down to the hold that the lifepod had been beamed into. The lifepod had been opened up, and the medical team already at work, quickly arranging the equipment they'd need to transport the two to Sickbay where their main medical equipment was. Anderson stepped closer to get a better look at them. It was them. It was barely possible that some other unlucky pair could be adrift in this area of space, and that would have been disappointing beyond anything. Naomi looked dead, skin waxy and her body broken. Q seemed in barely better condition. Q looked at her, and Anderson got closer to him. Clinging grimly to consciousness, Q waited until Anderson bent over him to speak. His voice came out in a strained whisper. "Naomi. How is Naomi?" "Li will take care of her, Q. We're fully equipped for a medical emergency." Q closed his eyes, and slipped into the deep black pool waiting for him. That was all he wanted to hear. They had been rescued; Naomi would be well. His own guilt expiated, he could now let go. Whatever happened to him did not matter, live or die, at this moment, he did not care. From behind Anderson, Li ran a professional eye over his patients, deciding which to take first. Naomi's condition was, on the surface, the more threatening, her many contusions, gauntness and blood loss easily apparent, but she had apparently been stable for some time now. She was unconscious, but alive, and that was a good sign. If whatever had happened to her hadn't killed her yet, she'd likely live a good while longer. Q worried him more. Li had seen patients hang on to life for long periods of time, far past any reasonable expectation, defying medical science, in order to complete some task, only to die from relatively minor infections or injuries which they should have been able to recover from, after having giving up the will to live. In his opinion, Q had just done that. Li gestured to the corpsman to move Q to the float pad. "I'll take Q first. While I'm with him, have Thorik look at Dr. Allen." The commodore turned to Li. "Will they be all right, doctor?" "I'll do my best, Commodore. I'll get Q up and running and as annoying as ever for you as soon as I can." The commodore stared at Q for a long moment before turning back to Li. "I don't suppose you could somehow leave out the annoying part?" Li smiled slightly. "I don't think so." Anderson sighed. "That's what I thought." She looked at her prodigal lambs again. "It's good to have them back though. Very good." -the end-