Return-Path: Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 20:36:21 -0800 From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein) To: trek@healer.com Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Introduction Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative Content-Type: text Content-Length: 3232 Status: RO Qstruck Copyright (c) 1995 Atara Stein Introduction Well,where do I start? Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel that I wrote last year and revised this Spring, and I'm finally getting around to posting it, due to overwhelming popular demand (OK, I'm exaggerating--but I do appreciate all of you who *did* ask me to post it). It's long, 17 chapters and an epilog to be exact, and I'll post it a chapter at a time to alt.fan.q and alt.startrek.creative, with each chapter being divided into parts. As it is posted, Qstruck will also be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara. It's about my two favorite boys, Q and Picard, but unlike my other ventures, it's PG-13 rated (or would be if the two characters involved weren't the same sex). It takes place shortly after "All Good Things . . ." and exists in a completely different continuity from "She Moves in Mysterious Ways" and "With or Without You." I actually wrote this first, but one of the things that makes these characters so splendid is that the possibilities of interpretation are endless, including mutually exclusive ones. Some acknowledgments and thanks are in order. First of all to Patrick Stewart and John de Lancie for such memorable, electrifying, and erotically-charged performances and to Ron Moore for writing "Tapestry," and co-writing "All Good Thing . . . ," without which this wouldn't be possible. I also interviewed John de Lancie (on the phone, and I was a babbling idiot, BTW) and Ron Moore for some more scholarly ventures of mine, and I hope they'll excuse me for adapting some of their observations and insights to a considerably less scholarly venture here. I also need to acknowledge some published sources. I consulted the "Star Trek The Next Generation Technical Manual" by Rick Sternbach and Michael Okuda (as well as the CD-ROM, which is a blast) quite often; Treknobabble is not my specialty, and any egregious errors are, of course, my own. The "Star Trek Encyclopedia" by Michael Okuda, Denise Okuda, and Debbie Mirek was incredibly helpful, and I consulted it continuously. Finally, there's bound to be some influence from Peter David's "Q-in-Law" and "Q-Squared," and my references to the Academy Marathon were largely shaped by Carmen Carter's "The Devil's Heart." At the risk of sounding like an Oscar winner, I also have to thank several people for reading this and offering support and/or constructive criticism: Ruth Gifford, for being Ruth and for flattery (which got her everywhere), Bill Richey, Brian Lenertz, Chris Van Winkle, Janet Coleman, KC Kleinman, Mercutio, and, especially, Alara Rogers, editor and Q expert extraordinaire, without whose thoughtful and brilliant editorial suggestions, as well as her many insights and ideas about his Qness, this story would be a lot less true to character and make a lot less sense. Reading "Only Human" and Alara's other stories while working on this was extremely intimidating but tremendously edifying, and she's had a huge and unquantifiable influence on all my writing about Q. -- Atara Stein "All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted Return-Path: Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 20:41:39 -0800 From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein) To: trek@healer.com Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 1 (1/2) Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative Content-Type: text Content-Length: 12294 Status: O Qstruck Copyright (c) 1995 Atara Stein Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with double slashes (//). Prologue and Chapter 1 (Part 1 of 2) Prologue //In a small villa in the French wine country, in the year 2390, the occupant lay asleep on a sofa, a cat curled up next to him. Suddenly the sleeper's limbs jerked convulsively; dreaming of falling, he awoke with a violent jolt, displacing the indignant cat. "You'd think I'd have gotten used to that by now," he murmured to the cat. Hearing a knock at the door, he got up to answer it, paused for a moment, putting his hand to the small of his back, then opened the door with a sigh, admitting a bald elderly man, who had a concerned look on his face and asked, "Are you all right?"// //"Just a bad dream and a bad back. I don't expect either one will kill me . . . right away. At least I still have some hair."// //The visitor nodded sympathetically and asked,"If you knew how difficult it was going to be, would you still have done it?"// //"Yes, of course. You're worth any amount of difficulty. And believe me you've caused me a lot."// //"Well, I could certainly say the same for you! But you can still go back if you wish. This isn't engraved in stone."// //"They might take me back, but I made a decision, and, I might add, the most worthwhile decision I've ever made. I don't regret it. Never have, never will. But it certainly does take some getting used to."// //The cat began to meow. "What is it now?" demanded its owner. "You think you're the center of the universe, Beastie--do you know that?"// //The visitor smiled. "Well, you've certainly found a companion you can relate to--you two have so much in common."// //"You wound me, Jean-Luc . . ."// //("Who am I kidding? Myself apparently. Would I really make that sacrifice for *anybody*? Not likely. Would it matter to him if I did? Equally unlikely. And what's with the cat? I don't even *like* animals. Well, I've let my imagination run away with me again; that's the most implausible future I've dreamed up yet. Sleeping next to a cat? What'll I think of next? The possibilities, apparently, are endless.")// Chapter 1 On a dark planet in an uninhabited and remote part of the galaxy, a figure sat on a ledge near the top of a mountain, watching a light show of swirling color unfolding in space. Coruscating bands of purple and pink, blue and green, interspersed with flashes of silver, whirled and rippled in an eternal and breathtaking ballet of hues which intermingled and flowed apart in a perpetual series of waves and spirals. This spot, and its view, was known to him alone, and it always brought him a measure of peace, temporarily soothing the restlessness and boredom that drove him from place to place in search of diversion. At the same time, he felt an overpowering loneliness, a feeling that grew with every visit to his mountaintop refuge. He longed to share this view with someone, and not just anyone, a particular someone, but he had no idea how to go about attaining that goal. For a being who could get whatever he wanted with a snap of the finger or a wave of the hand (that is, when he was in human form and had fingers and hands), this state was frustrating, to say the least. Q, for it was indeed Q, got up and paced restlessly on the ledge, his hands behind his back, then sat down again with a heavy sigh. A second later, an ironic smile crossed his face; he was a creature of irony, and even as he indulged his feelings, he couldn't help mocking himself for them at the same time. "//I've obviously been spending too much time with humans//," he thought, "//I'm starting to get sentimental//." Q wasn't one to berate himself for long, however; he was accustomed to believe that whatever he happened to be thinking or feeling was the right thing to be thinking or feeling. And moreover it was the *only* right thing to be thinking or feeling. Still, this attachment to a mere human was troubling to him; what was it about Jean-Luc Picard that drew him? He sighed again, for he knew the answer. Q liked a challenge, and Picard had posed one since their first encounter. The Captain had a commanding presence; he had imagination and ambition and drive and passion. He had a good deal more depth than most humans, and a contained, focused, yet towering energy that Q found quite attractive. That focus and drive seemed so appealing to Q because he lacked those qualities himself. Picard had accomplished a great deal despite his myriad limitations, perhaps even because of them, whereas Q had never had to work for anything. There was indeed something admirable about human aspiration and drive, and Picard had more of that inner vitality than any other human he had encountered. He was also a very good-looking man, Q thought with a wry smile; he had been around humans long enough to absorb some of their aesthetic criteria. But there was something else, too, an inexplicable bond or connection he felt that transcended the insurmountable differences between the two of them. What did humans call it? Chemistry? Ever the narcissist, Q was convinced that he saw a great deal of himself in Picard, and he liked what he saw. Picard's arrogance, his high opinion of himself, and his refusal to be intimidated by Q all tickled Q immensely; in so many ways Picard reacted just the way he would to a given situation. Of course, Q had had to take great pains to teach Picard that; the man had to die and be revived before he would finally admit that the ways in which he resembled Q were an essential part of his character. Whatever it was, Q felt more alive when he was with Picard than he could remember feeling in centuries. He thought repeatedly about expressing some of his feelings toward his object of affection, but vulnerability was *not* his preferred mode. On the occasions when he had had the opportunity, he had only been able to manage oblique hints, which Picard had either not processed or deliberately ignored. Instead of simply saying what he felt, Q had been unable to resist the temptation to make a gratuitous display of his power to try to force Picard to acknowledge his dominion. He couldn't simply tell Picard that he was maddeningly jealous of Vash, when the profit-minded archeologist had dropped in on the Enterprise; he had to force Picard into yet another one of his tests, a Robin Hood scenario designed to show Picard how love was bringing out the worst in him. Q's resulting departure with Vash hadn't had the intended result either, but at least he had an entertaining companion for a while, one who helped him recapture something of a sense of wonder at the glories of the universe. The particular view in front of him he hadn't shared with her, however. She was a diversion, nothing more. When Picard had died on the operating table, after he had been fired upon and his artificial heart had failed, Q couldn't resist playing authority figure and forcing Picard to bend to his will once again. He had simply intended to tell Picard something of his feelings and restore him to life, but when the time came, it was as if he was compelled to put the Captain through yet another test, this one giving him the opportunity to relive a portion of his past he was ashamed of. Although Picard had initially walked right into Q's trap, making the wrong decision, Q of course restored him to life anyway, after giving him the opportunity to rectify his errror. For all the fondness he felt for Jean-Luc, he had enjoyed playing God and teaching Jean-Luc a lesson, a lesson which he admittedly was grateful for. Q also wondered why, even when he was doing something for Jean-Luc's benefit, he couldn't help ridiculing and humiliating him while parading his own superiority. Was it that he was ashamed of his own feelings for a member of such an inferior species? Perhaps his continual derision toward Picard was a projection of his own confusion. As it was, his extremely undeveloped interpersonal skills had only increased Picard's contempt for him. It was only in their most recent encounters that the Captain had expressed gratitude for Q's assistance and just the barest beginning of comprehension of Q's fascination with him. At this point, curiosity overwhelmed any doubts he may have had, and he began probing Picard's mind, wondering if the man was thinking about him at all. He knew the Captain would not be at all happy about these invasions of his privacy, but he figured what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Q was never one to be stopped by ethical considerations, although there were lines even he wouldn't cross. This, however, was not one of them. "//So, mon Capitaine//," he thought to himself, "//have you forgotten me completely?//" Picard's conscious mind was absorbed with the details of the mission he was engaged in, some diplomatic trivia regarding a planet petitioning for entry into that pointless Federation. Q probed further; for him, entering the mind of another was like a trip in virtual reality; he not only sensed emotions and verbally expressed thoughts, but detected repressed emotions and unconscious stored memories as well, receiving a stream of words, images, memories, and feelings. He could, of course, absorb the entire contents of a human's mind all at once, but he enjoyed the journey of penetrating the layers of consciousness one at a time, while filtering out irrelevant or uninteresting information. As if entering an inner room, Q investigated Picard's subconscious mind, with only the slightest pang of guilt. The image of Beverly Crusher was prominent, much to his disgust. He had no idea what Jean-Luc saw in her besides her looks. Further still, however, much to his delight, he discovered himself as if looking in a mirror. The emotions swirling around the image of Q in Picard's mind were of irresolution and perplexity, as if his thoughts of Q were a puzzle he could not solve, and had decided to put in the back of his mind. Q detected gratitude, curiosity as to why Q had taken such an interest in him, and a wholly unconscious pinprick of affection. The entity decided to conduct an experiment. He could, of course, have simply brainwashed Picard into falling in love with him, abandoning his position, and devoting the rest of his lifetime to Q. But Q knew that what was not what he wanted. While he had developed enough of an ethical sense not to overwhelm the object of his affections entirely, he couldn't resist a little test, a test in which Picard would be totally unaware of his involvement. He knew that if he and Picard ever did get closer, he would have to behave himself, or at least appear to be behaving himself, so he might as well enjoy being a cad while he could. Extracting a memory from Picard's own mind, Q planted it in his subject's consciousness, then sat back to enjoy the show, completely oblivious to the galactic wonders unfolding in front of him on his mountaintop. * * * Q's attention being drawn to Picard, he did not notice that in the far reaches of the Alpha Quadrant, at a location unimaginably distant from where Q was now, something had penetrated the galactic barrier, something utterly alien. It rested and waited, having come a very long way. After all, this galaxy would offer plenty of opportunities. Some kind of prey would come along in time. -- Atara Stein "All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted Return-Path: Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 20:44:40 -0800 From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein) To: trek@healer.com Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 1 (2/2) Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative Content-Type: text Content-Length: 12124 Status: O Qstruck Copyright (c) 1995 Atara Stein Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with double slashes (//). Chapter 1 (Part 2 of 2) * * * Jean-Luc Picard was in his ready room, scanning historical and cultural information about the Angrians, the people petitioning for admittance into the Federation. He wanted to know as much as possible, so as not to commit any diplomatic gaffes. Although he was a skilled diplomat, the task in front of him was not commanding his full attention. He was beginning to daydream, in fact. Much to his surprise a visual memory popped into his conscious mind. It was when Q had given him the opportunity to relive a portion of his past, and he had spent an enchanting night with his old friend Marta Batanides. It was not Marta who popped into his mind, however; instead, the memory was of waking up the next morning, feeling a finger lightly stroking his ear, and rolling over to discover Q lying next to him and greeting him with an affectionate "Morning, Darling." Picard had, instinctively, yanked the covers up to his chin. What was nagging him about the memory, however, what puzzled him, was not his initial reaction to Q's presence, but rather, how quickly he had felt comfortable lying in bed and chatting with an entity he had come to think of as his most potent (and irritating) adversary. He remembered, as well, confiding in Q the previous day about some of his amorous indiscretions, and hearing Q remark, "I had no idea you were such a cad. I'm impressed." There was something puzzling about the entity's tone of voice--it seemed almost . . . well . . . affectionate. ("//Well, of course it was affectionate, you incurable dimwit//," thought Q as he observed the memories unfolding in Picard's mind and his responses to them, "//Do I have to spell *everything* out?//") Picard, meanwhile, was unaware that his daydream was being observed by the unimaginable telepathic powers of the very being he was daydreaming about. He would have been incensed, but in his blissful state of ignorance, he merely ruminated on how odd it was that he could chat so casually with Q. He realized later that Q had indeed engineered the whole incident for his, Picard's, benefit. Q had saved his life and at the same time had helped him become reconciled to an incident in his past he had deeply regretted. But in this particular memory, waking up to find Q beside him, it was perplexing that he could have felt so relaxed, almost intimate, with him. Was he, God forbid, beginning to perceive Q as a friend, or had Q simply lulled him into an unguarded state of mind? How could he assume that any feeling he had about Q was not planted by Q himself? Q was certainly capable of making him think whatever he wanted, yet somehow the conversation he remembered, the circumstances, and his own feelings seemed somehow natural, not something planted in his brain from without. ("//No, I'm not brainwashing you, Jean-Luc. I may have called that memory into your consciousness, but the rest came from you. If you're starting to think of me as a friend, then that is entirely of your own volition!//" Q smiled to himself; his experiment was going better than he thought. He noted that Picard was about to be summoned back to the bridge, and, a little wistfully, disengaged his mind from the Captain's.) Still unable to make sense of his reflections about Q, Picard was summoned to the bridge. He too, although he wouldn't have been able to pinpoint the emotion, and would have denied it if it were pointed out for him, felt a kind of wistful regret at having his daydream interrupted. Soon thereafter, Q also received a summons. He wasn't happy--being summoned by the Continuum was a bad sign. Q had a distinct feeling he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. * * * //Standing on the surface of a planet with twin moons, Riker watched aghast as creatures in Napoleonic-era soldier uniforms attacked his friends. He was filled with horror as he watched Worf's death-struggle, as one of the creatures repeatedly stabbed him with a bayonet. Then, Wes . . . God, no, not Wes! . . . ran over to Worf's body and was impaled through the back. An echoing voice urged him, "Use your power! Use the power of the Q!" Riker couldn't take any more. In a fury, he exclaimed, "Damn it! DAMN IT TO HELL!" and his arm flashed as he intended to create a force field to protect his friends.// //Nothing happened.// //Nothing.// //Worf and Wes lay still on the ground, and the inhuman soldiers advanced . . . and kept advancing. // //A mocking, disembodied voice resounded through the landscape, "JUST KIDDING!"// Riker howled in frustration, waking himself up in the process. "//I hate him! God, how I hate him!//" he thought to himself. He tried to calm himself by reminding himself that it hadn't happened that way; none of his crewmates' lives had been lost. It didn't matter. "//I still hate him. I wish we'd never heard of the God damned Q Continuum//." * * * //Picard sat up straight in the Captain's chair, giving commands as the Enterprise fled from the Borg ship at maxium warp. Photon torpedoes exploded harmlessly off the Borg ship, utterly ineffective. The shields were failing, and the Borg were about to recapture his ship with their tractor beam. And Q, damn him, was lying draped on the bridge railing, in a maddeningly relaxed pose, as if nothing of consequence was going on. A few moments later, after Q had taken over Data's chair at Ops, Picard knew what he had to do. He demanded, "Q end this!"// //"Moi? What makes you think I'm either inclined or capable to terminate this encounter?"// //Very well then, thought Picard, he had to humiliate himself utterly. He had to allow Q to triumph or lose the lives of his crew. It was an easy decision, but he knew he had to make a convincing performance, to allow the sadistic entity to have the complete victory he desired. "If we all die here, now, you will not be able to gloat," began Picard in a strained voice. "You wanted to frighten us, we're frightened. You wanted to show us that we were inadequate for the moment, I grant that. You wanted me to say I need you, I NEED YOU!"// //Q smiled . . . snapped his fingers . . . and vanished. Utterly.// //Slowly, inexorably, her shields down, her weapons useless, the Enterprise was being drawn into the maw of the Borg vessel, to be dismantled, her technology plundered, her crew assimilated or killed. He had led his entire ship and crew to destruction, in some god-forsaken part of the galaxy, because he had been too arrogant to accept Q's offer of guidance. And Q was pitiless. It was over . . .// Picard sat up, looked around his bedroom, temporarily disoriented, then realized he had been having a nightmare. Perhaps his knowledge of the disastrous events that came later, the Borg invasion, his own near-assimilation, and the later alliance of some of the Borg with Lore, had caused his mind to rewrite the script of that first encounter. But it could have happened that way, he thought, deeply shaken. * * * //Geordi La Forge was in Engineering, reluctantly trying to protect Q, who was in a shuttlecraft, being pursued by the Calamarain. As far as he was concerned, the Calamarain could do whatever they wanted with that arrogant, self-absorbed jerk, who had come swaggering into Engineering like he owned the place and hadn't shown the least bit of concern that Data had been severely injured while saving his useless life. He had better things to do than trying to save Q . . . like making a second attempt to restore the orbit of the Bre'el IV moon and saving millions of lives. La Forge could not remember feeling so callous before, but when all of his controls froze, and he could neither extend the shields around Q's stolen shuttlecraft nor get a lock with the tractor beam, he wasn't exactly sorry.// //Unable to operate the frozen controls, La Forge headed up to the bridge to see if he could help there. The Calamarain had vanished along with the shuttle. They had apparently seen the last of Q. Then, much to his disgust, Q suddenly appeared, complete with a mariachi band, to celebrate his restored omnipotence. Just as quickly he disappeared again. Suddenly Worf exclaimed, "Captain, the moon!" All heads turned toward the viewscreen, as the Bre'el moon plunged into the planet's surface. Although he was almost in shock, La Forge could have sworn that he heard a disembodied voice exclaim "Oops!"// "//What the hell?//" thought Geordi to himself as he woke up. "//Q saved those people. Why did I dream it like that?//" * * * //Reluctantly dressed as Will Scarlett, Worf was battling his way through a group of guards in a medieval castle, trying to protect the Captain. Picard, dressed as Robin Hood, was fencing with Sir Guy of Gisborne, all of them trapped in a ridiculous scenario staged by Q. Ridiculous as it was, Worf knew it was also real, and lives were at stake. He plunged toward the stairs to help Picard, only to watch in horror as Sir Guy's sword stabbed deep into his vitals. With a roar, Worf leapt upon Sir Guy from behind, strangling him in an instant, but it was too late. The Captain's fallen body lay sprawled on the stairs, the sword protruding out of his abdomen . . .// Worf found himself being shaken awake by Alexander. "Father," exclaimed the child, "I heard you yell. Are you all right?" "It was just a dream," responded Worf gruffly, embarrassed at his reaction. * * * //Beverly Crusher was doing everything she knew to save Jean-Luc's life. He had been carried into sick bay by Worf, having been fired upon, and his artificial heart was failing. The inaprovaline and cortical stimulators had no effect. Although she maintained an outward calm, Beverly's heart was racing, and she was terrified. Despite all of her efforts, Jean-Luc's life ebbed out of him, and he died on the operating table.// Waking up with a start, her heart pounding, Crusher gasped. Maybe the dream meant something was really wrong with Jean-Luc. When the actual events transpired, he had recovered, convinced that Q had restored him, but Beverly was never entirely sure how he had survived. Afraid to wake him, but even more afraid not to, she summoned him through the comm link. "Crusher to Picard, are you all right?" Picard's voice sounded rather dazed and disoriented, "Yes, Beverly, I'm fine. What is it?" "I'm sorry. I had a nightmare, and I just had to check on you. I'm sorry to wake you." "You didn't wake me, actually. I had a bad dream as well. But it's all right. Try to go back to sleep." Eventually Riker, La Forge, Worf, Picard, and Crusher fell back asleep. Although they didn't compare notes on their dreams, they all awoke the next morning with a sense of forboding that Q would soon be making another appearance and that, despite the fact that their dreams contradicted the actual events, he was definitely not to be trusted. For each of them it seemed that the dream versions of their experiences were just as plausible and there was no reason to believe that Q wouldn't, one day, use his powers against them in a genuinely destructive fashion. -- Atara Stein "All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted From ataras@covina.lightside.com Fri Aug 4 01:46 EDT 1995 Return-Path: Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 22:44:27 -0800 From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein) To: trek@healer.com Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 2 (1/2) Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative Content-Type: text Content-Length: 17472 Status: O Qstruck Copyright (c) 1995 Atara Stein Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with double slashes (//). Chapter 2 (Part 1 of 2) That night, the Captain had just retired to his quarters. His diplomatic mission was proceeding smoothly, but he was tense and knew he would be unable to sleep. There were ominous signs coming from the Cardassian border, and Starfleet Intelligence was reporting a gradual buildup and movement of ships. The Angrians' petition might have to be put off until a later time. Picard sighed and spoke to the replicator, "Tea, Earl Grey, hot." But just as he was reaching for his tea, a by-now familiar burst of light announced the arrival of Q in the room. Picard's mind flashed back to his nightmare, but he maintained a nonchalant demeanor. No point in revealing his uneasiness to Q. "Well, back so soon, Q. I guess you can't get enough of us." "Greetings and salutations, mon Capitaine," returned the entity, but his face looked drawn and worried, and he lacked his usual joie de vivre. "Jean-Luc, I'm sorry, but you have to come with me now. Directive from the Continuum. I don't have any choice." Before Picard could respond, they had vanished from Picard's quarters and had reappeared on the surface of an uninhabited planet a good many light years away. "What's this all about, Q? You know, I'm really getting tired of being snatched off my ship when I'm in the middle of a mission. Couldn't you phone for an appointment for once?" "*My* ship, *my* ship. My, aren't we indispensable? This is going to concern a whole lot more than your damned ship. Anyway, believe me, Jean-Luc, this is *not* my idea. In fact, I think it's a *terrible* idea. I tried to talk *them*" (at this Q raised his eyebrows and gestured skyward) "out of it, but, as usual, no one listens to me. Frankly I don't think you can handle it." "Handle what? "Look, let me try to talk sense to them one more time." Q closed his eyes in silent communication with his superiors, sighed, and said, "No good. They said if I won't do it, they'll send someone else who will. And if you have to go through with it, then I want to be with you to keep you out of trouble. You can of course turn down our offer, Jean-Luc," and with a menacingly serious tone, he added, "And if you want my advice, I strongly suggest you do just that." "I'm losing patience, Q, what offer?" "Well, if you insist. I am here to formally offer you, Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the USS Enterprise, the powers of the Q. But if you have an ounce of common sense, you won't accept." Picard gasped, "The powers of the Q? Why? Wasn't your experiment with Riker sufficient?" "Oh, *you* performed so far beyond expectations on our last little test, the Continuum decided to make things a little more challenging. Riker has no imagination, and anyway I only gave him a portion of my abilities; they want to see what *you* would do--with full Q powers." "Under what conditions? Must I join the Continuum?" "No conditions. I just hand you the power and sit back to enjoy the show. Or, if I have any sense, I get the hell out of here." "Really, Q, your confidence in me is truly inspiring. It's touching to know you think so highly of me," retorted Picard, then added with an even harder edge to his voice, "Why exactly do you think I can't handle it?" "It's not exactly that I don't think you can handle it, Picard; it's that I think you're going to misuse it." Picard laughed, and it wasn't a mirthful laugh either. "Moi?" he queried, taking a page out of Q's book. "That's a good one, Q. You're a fine one to worry about someone else misusing power." "I'm dead serious, Jean-Luc. As serious as I've ever been. I'll admit that I have often given into the temptation to misuse my powers. I'm bored and restless, and when you're immortal and omnipotent, novel forms of entertainment are increasingly hard to come by. I'm also phenomenally selfish, I'll confess." ("//So what's new?//" thought Picard to himself.) "I heard that, Picard, so watch it. You're still the mere mortal here. But since I was being so humble as to list my shortcomings, allow me to continue. As I said, I'm bored and restless and selfish, I'm egotistical and stubborn and arrogant (and in that respect, you and I are more alike than you think, mon Capitaine), but the thing I am *not* is driven. I have no ambition whatsoever; why should I? I can have whatever I want whenever I want it. The idea of combining your drive and your energy with the power of the Q is frankly utterly terrifying to me. The Continuum are curious to see whether you would accept the offer at all and what you would do with the power once accepted. All in the name of scientific research, your tax dollars at work. But I think it'll be a disaster. I can see you're not going to listen to me, either, Jean-Luc." The possibilities began to unfold rapidly through the Captain's mind. Although Riker hadn't shown himself capable of handling it, Picard was curious about what it felt like; he couldn't imagine that his firm ethical grounding would simply vanish with the advent of unlimited power. He replied to his companion, "It's an unparalleled opportunity. Your utter lack of confidence in my ethics and in my self-control notwithstanding, there is so much I could learn. It's very tempting, Q. To think of all the good I could do, the lives I could save, even if I have the power for only a short while. I have no intention of keeping it." Q looked downcast, and murmured softly, "But you won't do good, and you won't be willing to give it back. Much as I hope against hope that you would on both counts, I'm betting against you. Oh, well, I'm not being a very good tempter, am I? I'm trying my hardest to talk you out of it." "For that reason alone, I intend to accept," snapped Picard. "I'm really tired of you condescending to me, Q. This time I intend to *prove you wrong*!" "Well, mon Capitaine, if you *screw up*, as I expect you will, I intend to be the first to say, *I told you so*." "No doubt," remarked Picard wryly. "But you won't have the opportunity. Now," he added in a hard voice, "I formally accept your kind offer." "And I thought I was egotistical," muttered Q. He looked skyward and declared, "I won't be responsible for the consequences," then, with a palpable reluctance and a deeply worried look, extended his arm in a grand gesture toward Picard. "VOILA!"Picard's eyes snapped open. He felt himself expanding inwardly in all directions. Doors opened in his mind and light flooded into newly created rooms. Energy surged through every fiber of his body. He felt as though he could smash and rebuild dozens of solar systems, and he thought that he understood the ultimate fabric of the universe. He transcended dimensions; he could move anywhere he wanted in time and space. Infinite choices and possibilities burst upon his consciousness. He was convinced that he could fix whatever it was that was wrong in the galaxy, and he was equally convinced that it was his destiny to do so. "//I, Jean-Luc Picard//," he thought to himself, "//am now a god//," and he laughed and laughed and laughed, giddy with exhilaration and power. Q leaned back against a tree, shaking his head. "//I knew this was a bad idea//." "//I heard that//," returned Picard in his mind. "//You're lucky I have other plans, or I would be exceedingly tempted to give you a good thrashing//." "Just try it, mon *dieu*" retorted Q, with that last word laced with bitter sarcasm beyond any Picard had heard from Q before. Q continued, "but if you do have other plans, I believe I will go watch from a safe distance. You might be interested to know there's some activity near the Cardassian border that might require your *godlike* intervention." With that he vanished, leaving Picard unsupervised, but not unwatched. * * * As soon as Q had taken Picard away from the Enterprise, Guinan shot awake with a start. "//Not again//," she fumed to herself. She knew immediately what had happened. Her long, if hostile, acquaintance with Q provided her with an intuitive sense of his presence, and she had a fair ability to read what would be the equivalent of his conscious mind when she made the effort to do so. It was neither an easy nor a pleasant experience, however; something like sensory overload would set in very rapidly, so she didn't avail herself of the opportunity to probe him except in an emergency. And this was an emergency. Although she knew what the answer would be, she demanded, "Computer, locate Captain Picard," and the computer replied evenly, "Captain Picard is not on board the ship." She spoke quickly using using the comm link, "Commander Riker, this is Guinan. Picard has been taken by Q." "Riker here. Are you sure?" came the reply. "You're welcome to check for yourself," said Guinan drily, as she dressed. The expected summons soon came, and she headed for the bridge. The ship was on red alert, and Riker had summoned the command crew to the bridge. He demanded, "Guinan, what can you tell us?" "Not much, I'm afraid. I believe Picard is in some danger, but there's really no way to locate him for the time being. I don't think Q intends him any harm, if that's a consolation. All I can tell you is that as events start happening, you would do well to respond to them in as restrained and cautious a way as possible, or you could make matters a lot worse." Guinan knew a good deal more than she was letting on; she always did. But she didn't see the point in revealing information that might later be prejudicial to Picard, and she knew that Riker and his crew would not take kindly to being informed that their Captain was in a tremendously dangerous situation that they absolutely could not do one thing about. She knew that the best thing would be for the Enterprise to respond to upcoming events as passively as possible, but she didn't see how she could deliver that advice in any form in which it would be accepted. Riker demanded, "What do you mean? What events?" Guinan sighed, "I'm just the bartender, Commander. This isn't my place. What I do know is that the more actively you respond to what's coming the more irreparable the long-term consequences may be. Whatever situations arise, try to stall as long as you can before you come out shooting. That's all I can say." At this, she turned around and headed for the turbolift, her robes swirling around her, leaving Riker shaking his head in frustration. When Riker contacted Starfleet to inform them of Picard's disappearance, he was told that the Enterprise was not going to be able to engage in a search for the Captain because the situation at the Cardassian border was too unstable. Admiral Rodriguez said that there would be a general fleetwide alert about Picard's absence should any information about him be reported, but he couldn't spare the Enterprise in a situation of this nature. There had already been a skirmish between a Federation starship and a Cardassian warship, although both had withdrawn, severely damaged but without serious casualties. "I'm sorry Commander Riker," concluded Rodriguez, "if I were in your position, I would want to make finding the Captain my first priority as well. But we need you at the border." "Understood," replied Riker. After ordering the course change and informing the Angrians that the Enterprise had to respond to an emergency situation, Riker called a meeting in the observation lounge. After recapping recent events, he added, "I know we all want to look for the Captain, but if it's true he was kidnapped by Q, he could be anywhere in the galaxy, or outside of it for that matter. I don't see that we have any choice but to obey Starfleet's orders. Guinan did say she didn't think Q meant the Captain any harm, but, as usual, she didn't elaborate. What she said that was more puzzling was that she thought we should react as cautiously as possible to upcoming events, by which I assume she was referring to this buildup at the Cardassian border." Data interjected, "Her exact words, I believe, were 'What I do know is that the more actively you respond to what's coming the more irreparable the long-term consequences may be. Whatever situations arise, try to stall as long as you can before you come out shooting.'" "Commander," snapped Worf, "that doesn't sound advisable to me. If the Cardassians start shooting . . . " "Then we will, of course, respond," replied Riker. "But keep in mind that the Captain has always taken Guinan's advice into account when she has offered it. I don't know what she knows or how she knows it, but I believe we should keep what she said in mind. We should try everything possible to avoid a violent confrontation." Worf muttered to himself, but remained otherwise silent. Data added, "It is possible from what Guinan said that the Captain's disappearance is somehow linked to the situation at the Cardassian border. He may be in Cardassian territory. I agree that we should react with caution." La Forge and Troi nodded in agreement. Crusher was visibly upset and fought to keep her voice in control. "I understand that we have to follow orders, but I wish we could do something for Jean-Luc." Data turned to the doctor, "Doctor, I will investigate the Captain's disappearance as thoroughly as I can while we're on course to the Cardassian border." "Of course, Data, thank you." Crusher managed a weak smile. Suddenly, with a burst of light, Q appeared in the room. Placing his hands on the conference table, he leaned forward with an uncharacteristic urgency. "Q!" demanded Riker, "What have you done with the Captain?" "Look, if I had more time, I'd complain about the fact that whenever anything goes wrong around here, you always blame me, but I don't have time for that. You'll just have to trust me, whether you like it or not. I cannot do anything about Picard for the moment; it's out of my hands. When I am able to do something, believe me, I will." "What the hell are you talking about, Q?" asked Riker, furious. "I'm serious, Riker, so you're just going to have to listen to me and hope that something penetrates your thick skull. And listen carefully, because things are going to get pretty intense around here. Guinan's right, much as I hate to admit it. Do whatever you can to avoid shooting at the Cardassians and try to get the other ships in the fleet to do the same. Your Captain's in big trouble, and it's going to get a lot worse unless you can get Federation forces to delay fighting as long as you possibly can. That's the *only* thing you can do for him. You have a lot of lives you're responsible for, right now, Commander, so I suggest you make them a higher priority than your instinct to fight. I realize that will be impossible for *some* of your crew," here Q glanced pointedly at Worf, "but it's all riding on you, William T. Riker. Try to rise to the occasion for a change." In another flash, Q was gone. Everyone in the room was shaken by Q's apparent urgency. "Will, I think he means what he's saying," noted Troi, "I don't see any indication that he was trying to trick or mislead us." "I agree," said Data, "remember what the Captain told us about his last experience with Q. Even though the Continuum was putting him through a test, Q was clearly trying to assist the Captain." "Maybe," muttered Riker, "but I still don't trust him. Do any of us really understand what the Captain's last encounter with Q was all about? With Q there's no way to know if it really happened, or if he planted the whole thing in the Captain's brain, or if he had some ulterior motive of his own that he didn't mention to the Captain. Because his advice coincides with Guinan's, I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt this time, but let's keep our eyes open. There's no telling what Q's after." "I would just like to get my hands on him," growled Worf. "That would not be advisable, Mr. Worf," remarked Data calmly, "given what we know of Q's powers." "Mr. Worf," said Riker, "I want a battle readiness report by 1400 hours. Mr. La Forge, see what you can do to boost shield capacity--if we're going to try to avoid a fight, we need to augment our defenses. Mr. Data, I need simultaneous communications links with all the ships in the fleet. And Doctor, . . . " "We will be prepared for casualties, Commander," replied Crusher. At this the crew dispersed to their various tasks. * * * -- Atara Stein "All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted From ataras@covina.lightside.com Fri Aug 4 01:49 EDT 1995 Return-Path: Date: Thu, 03 Aug 1995 22:47:20 -0800 From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein) To: trek@healer.com Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 2 (2/2) Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative Content-Type: text Content-Length: 13534 Status: O Qstruck Copyright (c) 1995 Atara Stein Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with double slashes (//). Chapter 2 (Part 2 of 2) Picard spent a short while on the planet Q had brought him to, flexing his new muscles. He picked up a rock, dazzled to realize that if he chose he could see it at the quantum level, all of the sub-atomic particles in continuous motion. He imagined the forces holding the particles together weakening, the particles coming apart. Suddenly, the rock dissolved in his hands. "//Fascinating//," he thought to himself. He found that teleportation was effortless, as was his ability to "see" what was going on at any given point in the galaxy he focused on. He did not, however, focus upon a distant and uninhabited portion of the Alpha Quadrant, where a visitor from outside the galaxy was waiting and regenerating its energies. Why would he? Picard amused himself briefly by floating in space and temporarily diverting the paths of asteroids. He leapt from planet to planet, star system to star system as if puddle-jumping. From afar he could monitor what was going on on board the Enterprise. These abilities came naturally and effortlessly; at the same time he found he almost had to force himself to concentrate on simple displays of his abilities such as these to keep himself from being overwhelmed by the flood of information that poured into his brain. He had been given the full complement of Q powers, but he did not have the experience to process this sudden influx of knowledge so as to filter out what he didn't need and absorb what he did. It took him some time to realize that the roaring noise in his head was the echo of hundreds of voices; he was simultaneously reading the minds of every person he had ever encountered in his lifetime without even intending to. With some effort he was able to shut down and focus his new telepathic abilities, but he still couldn't handle all the knowledge, both scientific and metaphysical, at his grasp. The multidimensionality of the universe, the multitude of time lines and alternate histories, the essence of matter at its most quantum level, the fact that he personally could visit any point in the universe at any point in time, an overwhelming realization of the reality of uncertainty and randomness, numerous space-time fluctuations and paradoxes--all these and other types of knowledge beyond description flooded into his mind all at once. He knew there was something in there he needed to concentrate on, and his brain was relieved to focus on a simple, single situation--the Cardassians were threatening an incursion over the border, and Federation starships and lives were in danger. He felt that he could use his powers in some way to end the standoff without casualties, but he also wanted to convince both sides to hammer out a real peace treaty, one that wouldn't collapse under the slightest perceived violation. The problem was that he had no idea how to go about it. There was so much activity in his brain that he couldn't see his way to a solution. The brief skirmish between the Federation starship and the Cardassian warship had spurred both sides into a high alert status, and each was sending several ships to the border area for what would be, at the minimum, a standoff. Picard realized he had some time before both sides would be able to assemble their fleets and decided to investigate the most infamous prison camp on Cardassia Prime. That was his first mistake. His initial impulse was to find a way to force both sides to talk, but when he saw the condition of the starving and tortured prisoners, the memory of his own victimization by a Cardassian inquisitor rose up before his eyes as if he was watching a play. He could see his former self helpless and violated, undergoing an assault of physical and psychological agony. But now he did not feel helpless. Instead he felt an overwhelming fury, a surge of absolute power concentrated in a single, good cause--eradicating the galaxy of this tyranny. The anger that arose in him at the memory of his own torture and his seeing the suffering of the prisoners had the welcome effect, for him, of blocking out all the other information, knowledge, and sensations that were surging around his unprepared brain. This anger was something clear and simple that he could focus on; he felt with absolute certainty that it was his destiny to rid the galaxy of this scourge. As he still had some time before the ships would arrive at the border, he systematically released the prisoners, dispersing them to various Starbases where they could get medical and psychological care. As he emptied the cells, he filled them with guards, officials, and inquisitors. Remaining unseen, he used his new telepathic abilities to plant messages in the minds of his captives, instructing them that the militarism and imperialistic tendencies of their culture were morally wrong, as was the abuse and torture of prisoners. He also implanted ideas that he hoped would be the seeds of a more peaceful society. For the recipients of Picard's experiments in brainwashing, the effect was somewhat like an instantaneous and unexpected religious conversion. Imprisoned in the cells of their former victims, the jailkeepers felt an inexplicable and sudden overwhelming sense of guilt for their crimes, followed by what felt like a sudden realization that all of the values they had pledged themselves to were wrong. After an hour or so of contemplation the new prisoners were released to spread the gospel they had just received. Picard, had, in effect, tossed the Prime Directive out the window; in his omnipotent and omniscient state, it seemed like a foolish inconvenience, a product of narrow minds unable to sustain a grand and transformative vision. To all intents and purposes, Picard was no longer himself. The sudden influx of absolute power had driven him over the edge; he was so beset with his newfound energies that he had to release them in some fashion. There was no way that his usual ethical sense or his rational faculties could impose order and restraint; Picard was essentially being assaulted by irresistable impulses, and his prior experiences were not sufficient to give him enough of a context for how to handle his omnipotence. Picard had the powers of a god, along with very human drives, desires, angers, and fears. It was not a good combination. He emptied out the second-largest prison camp in the same fashion, making a point of using his newfound talent at mind control to coerce some of the higher officials into releasing any other prisoners being held throughout Cardassian territory. That task, as he saw it, was merely bureaucratic, and he didn't want to waste his valuable time. Then he turned his attention to the border area where the Enterprise and other Federation and Cardassian vessels were converging. * * * While their Captain was blithely transforming the Cardassian culture, the Enterprise was arriving at its designated position. The Federation was, of course, anxious to avoid a war, and Riker's orders were compatible with Guinan's advice . . . for the time being. Riker hailed the commander of the lead Cardassian vessel, Gul Torval. "This is Commander William T. Riker, acting Captain of the Starship Enterprise. We would like an explanation of the buildup of warships in your border region, but we, of course, wish to avoid a confrontation that could lead to an escalation of hostilities. I hope you can assist me in resolving this matter peacefully." The reply, in the usual Cardassian style, was blunt. "It is you who must provide us with an explanation, Commander. One of your starships fired upon one of our vessels, and we will not tolerate violations of our territory." "With all due respect," noted Riker, "I believe it was the other way around. But as both ships survived without casualties, I hope we can find a way to put this incident behind us." "I'm sure we can find a way to do *that*, Commander!" snarled the Cardassian officer, "But it may not be in the manner you envision. Your Federation has a lot more than a minor border skirmish to answer for. Since when is Starfleet in the habit of sending undercover operatives to foment rebellion in enemy prison camps? You may not approve of our methods, but I don't believe our peace treaty has any provisions for one side covertly freeing prisoners on the other side and fostering insurrections among prison officials. What do you have to say about that, Commander Riker?" Riker was absolutely stunned as was the rest of the bridge crew. "This is the first I've heard of this, Gul Torval. Are you sure your information is correct?" "YES!" came the reply. "Our two largest prison camps have been emptied of prisoners, and the guards are in open revolt." "Gul Torval, I would like to request of you some time to investigate these allegations. If I have the opportunity to consult with Starfleet Command perhaps I can provide some sort of explanation. Have you captured any of the individuals responsible?" "No. They have vanished like the prisoners. I will grant you three hours to investigate and to consult with your superiors. When that time is up, I expect an explanation, some offer of reparations, and a concrete resolution. This is an extremely serious matter. If we cannot resolve it, the peace treaty between Cardassia and the Federation will be considered to be nullified. Do you understand, Commander?" "Perfectly. Riker out." The rest of the bridge crew all gasped, having been holding their breaths in shock and dismay. Riker turned to Troi, whose eyes were wide with astonishment. "He's not lying, Will." Data turned around and announced, "Commander, we are receiving reports of former prisoners of the Cardassians mysteriously appearing in the hospitals of four different Starbases. There was no sign of any form of transporter beam; they simply materialized." Riker rubbed his forehead. "Please someone tell me this is a nightmare, and I'm going to wake up. Can the Captain have *anything* to do with this?" "I do not believe so, sir." "How about the Maquis?" "I do not believe they could have the resources. What is being described is so extraordinary it can only be the work of an extremely powerful intelligence." "Q!" said Riker, Troi, and Worf simultaneously. Troi asked, "But why would Q start releasing the Cardassians' prisoners? It doesn't make any sense." Riker interjected, "What Gul Torval said about the guards rebelling--it's conceivable that Q would be capable of some kind of mind control. Could he be trying to foment a war between us and the Cardassians?" "I wouldn't put it past him," growled Worf. "If you recall, gentlemen," commented Data, "Q urged us, most vehemently, to act with restraint." "Maybe he just wanted to make us easier targets," said Worf. "No," mused Data, "I do not think even Q is capable of that degree of callousness. And if he wanted to start a war, he could do so in a far simpler fashion." "Well, the point is that we need to avoid one!" exclaimed Riker. "If anybody has any ideas, now would be a good time to communicate them." Silence fell over the bridge. Data finally volunteered to find out as much as he could about the situation in the prison camps, and Riker retired to Picard's ready room to consult with Starfleet Command and the commanders of the other starships in the armada. * * * Q, meanwhile, was frantic. He was observing everything Picard was doing, but he had been absolutely forbidden by his superiors to interfere until *they* saw fit. He kept pressing his point, but his eloquence was unavailing. The Continuum was determined to see the results of its experiment. Q then became engaged in an internal battle. He knew that stopping Picard was the only right thing to do, but he was extremely leery of provoking the wrath of the Continuum. Even though he was no longer officially on parole, he knew that they would use just about any excuse to drum him out . . . or worse. They had barely tolerated the assistance he had rendered Picard in the last test they came up with; he had only just managed to convince them that it would be unfair to expect a human to unravel a temporal paradox completely unassisted. He was on shaky ground, and he knew it, and at this point, Q had not mustered enough moral courage to defy the Continuum. He could foresee the possible consequences to himself all too vividly. He could only hope they would allow him to stop Picard before the consequences of his behavior were irreparable. -- Atara Stein "All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein) Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 3 (1/2) Date: Mon, 07 Aug 1995 21:39:46 -0800 Organization: Lightside, Inc. Lines: 238 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: user55.lightside.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Qstruck Copyright (c) 1995 Atara Stein Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with double slashes (//). Chapter 3, Part 1 Starfleet, of course, could not provide any explanation of the mysterious transformation of the Cardassian prison camps, but they had no intention of returning the prisoners to their former captors. Regardless of regulations and peace treaties, such an act of inhumanity could not be conceived. Everyone felt helpless; there didn't seem to be any way to appease the warlike Cardassians who were just itching for a fight. Riker proposed to Admiral Rodriguez that he share his speculations about Q's involvement with the Cardassian commander; the only hope he could see was that Gul Torval would understand that both sides were the victims of an enemy much more powerful than both of them. Riker hailed the Cardassian lead vessel. "Gul Torval, we have reason to believe that the events you described to us were not the work of Starfleet operatives, but were somehow instigated by Q. We don't know why. Are you aware of the existence of the Q Continuum?" "We have, of course, monitored Starfleet reports about this individual's activities. But you cannot dodge responsibility for Starfleet actions by laying the blame elsewhere. We insist on holding Starfleet fully responsible for this interference in our internal affairs. Torval out." All subsequent attempts to raise the Cardassian warship were in vain. The Cardassians were apparently determined to fight, and they had no interest in continuing a conversation. Still racking his mind for a peaceful solution, Riker reluctantly informed Admiral Rodriguez that a fight appeared imminent as the three hour deadline came up. * * * Picard had stationed himself, unseen, on the surface of a small uninhabited moon near the Cardassian border. He was so caught up in his blind fury that he did not note that Q was observing him from an asteroid not far away. Picard was monitoring the communications between the various ships, and he was fairly incensed that his brilliant tactic of releasing the prisoners was being falsely attributed to Q. Suddenly he leapt to his feet; he had "overheard" a Cardassian order that the warships were to anticipate the three hour deadline by several minutes and catch their enemies by surprise. The audacity of what they were sure was a Starfleet plan to interfere in their internal affairs left the Cardassian authorities feeling that they had no other choice but to fight. Anything less would reveal them as weak, unable to govern within their own territories. They had been humiliated enough in the past; the loss of Bajor still rankled, and the Maquis were a constant irritation. It was time to remind the Federation who they were dealing with. By this point, Picard had lost any capacity for rational thought and reflection. He was intoxicated with power and still battling to control the surges of facts, ideas, and possibilities that were sweeping through his brain. Anger was the only steadying force he had; it gave him a single and simple purpose, a clear way to make use of his powers. Instantly he determined to eliminate the entire Cardassian fleet with a thought. Then he could proceed with his transformation of the Cardassian culture--these brutes would pose a threat no longer. As far as Picard was concerned they had tortured their last prisoner and attacked their last starship. He, Jean-Luc Picard, would see to that. Q, of course, was reading Picard's mind with continued alarm. He had finally had enough--the Continuum be damned. He had a vague sense that the thousands of Cardassian casualties Picard was about to cause should have more significance for him than a purely theoretical one, but his principal concern was Picard. He knew that if the Captain actually executed his plan, it would utterly destroy him, and Q wasn't about to let that happen. The Continuum could do with him what they pleased. He launched a bolt of pure energy toward Picard, who wasn't expecting it, temporarily paralyzing him. Using the time Picard's incapacity bought him, Q proceeded systematically not only to disable the weapons systems of all the ships on both sides, but to damage them sufficiently that they would take days to repair. "//There//," he thought, "//that should give them time to cool off.//" It was no small feat, even for Q, but he didn't have time to concentrate on mustering his energies anew; Picard had recovered, and able to focus coherently on only one thing at a time, he transferred all his overwhelming rage from the Cardassians onto Q. He could deal with the Cardassians later, but he had had more than enough of Q's interference. Q heard a voice thunder inside his head, "//Q, YOU ARE GOING TO REGRET THIS. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU.//" Instantly Q felt himself slashed with sharp pulses of energy like tearing claws. "//God damned humans!//" he thought as he recovered himself. "//I should have just let them be exterminated.//" Nimbly, he stepped into another dimension, manipulating the fabric of space and time so that he was able to come around behind Picard. Then with a sudden lunge, he yanked his adversary off balance and transported both of them to the distant planet where he had made the offer to Picard. He figured the assembled ships had enough to worry about without a cosmic clash of the titans taking place in front of them, and he did not want anybody there to become aware of Picard's presence. * * * On the bridge of the Enterprise, Riker was trying to cope with the magnitude of what La Forge had just informed him. Suddenly, inexplicably, every weapon system on the ship was inoperative. Geordi had never seen anything like it. The flow regulators and the plasma distribution manifolds of each phaser array were fused, the prefire chambers had collapsed in on themselves, the phaser emitter crystals had dematerialized altogether, the computer's targeting system was off-line, and the conduits by which to channel energy to the phasers were blocked as were the photon torpedo launcher tubes. Q was nothing if not thorough when he put his mind to it. "Commander," said La Forge in amazement, "this is going to take days if not weeks to repair." Data suddenly interjected, "Sensors are reading that all the other ships in both fleets are similarly disabled. Not one of them has any weapons capacity remaining." Soon thereafter, Gul Torval contacted Riker, and both sides agreed to withdraw, not having any other choice. "There will be repercussions!" threatened the Cardassian, but for the time being it was an empty threat, and both sides knew it. The repairs would be so extensive that the ships would have to use the facilities of a Starbase. Riker was unwilling to leave without having located the Captain, but he could not leave a defenseless vessel near the Cardassian border. As he was more and more convinced that Q was somehow involved, he resigned himself to waiting, knowing there was nothing he or anyone else on the Enterprise could do. Wearied and perplexed by recent events, he ordered the ship to the nearest Starbase for repairs. * * * Picard had thought he was furious before, but now he was even more so. All of his varied humiliations at Q's hands crowded into his memory. All of the insults and derision Q had launched at him blocked any recollection of the times Q had been on his side. All he could hear was Q taunting him for his "puny mind" and describing him as "such a limited creature"; like a broken record he could hear the mocking voice jeering over and over again, "You obtuse piece of *flotsam*!" Obtuse and puny no longer, Picard lashed out. He hurled Q against a massive rock with enough force to take the equivalent of Q's breath away. As Q remained pinned against the rock, shaken and dazed, Picard advanced toward him, launching ferocious darts of energy, each one exploding in Q with a searing pain. Fortunately for Picard, Q *had* learned to channel and restrain his powers, his prior history notwithstanding. He had enough force remaining in him to shred his attacker into sub-atomic particles, and he knew if he didn't get Picard under control, he might have to so anyway, but despite all the wrath that consumed him, he remembered that killing Picard was not his intention. "OH I'M PUNY AM I? I'M OBTUSE AM I?" demanded Picard as he advanced. Q returned, "Jean-Luc, you are surpassing all your previous attempts at pure deranged asininity. I simply had no idea what a primitive brute you really were under that civilized facade. The mind boggles." His arm whipped in a blur, and Picard found himself flat on his back several hundred feet away. He was so driven by rage at Q's mockery, that he recovered in an instant. "Listen to me, Q," said Picard in a cold voice utterly devoid of humanity, a voice that chilled Q to the core, "I am going to destroy you." Q realized what he'd been denying up until now--Picard was insane. *His* Jean-Luc was so far buried under this new persona of pure wrath and vengefulness that he did not know if Picard would ever be himself again. It didn't matter; Q knew what he had to do. The problem was that his adversary was driven by a fury so absolute, a fury that increased his power exponentially, that Q honestly didn't know if he could find a way to stop him. Trying to figure out how to defeat Picard without destroying him, Q nimbly evaded most of the bolts of energy Picard was hurling at him. Every blow that did land, however, drained him more. And Picard was learning; there was no point in trying to escape into other dimensions to try to regroup. Picard would simply follow him; he seemed virtually unstoppable. Suddenly Q found himself jerked up in the air then smashed so hard into the planet's surface that he left a crater. Without touching him Picard was then shaking him like a rag doll, pinning him against the ground, and sending lightning strikes into Q's battered form. Q had enough mental capacity left to notice that Picard was keeping a safe distance from him as he launched his assault. Q thought if he could get close enough he might be able to take the Captain by surprise. Q lay on the ground in a crumpled heap; Picard was too confident to try and read his adversary's mind, and he approached Q, ready to finish him off. Suddenly Picard found himself immobilized, as a gigantic length of chain whipped itself around him, pinning his arms to his sides and his legs together. He was momentarily stunned, but managed, with effort, to break free of his restraints. It was too late, however. Q was on top of him, knocking him off balance, jerking his arms behind his back and forcing him down on his knees. Q's grasp was unshakeable, no matter how much Picard struggled. He had used up a good deal of energy escaping from the chains Q had conjured up, and now every move he tried to make was deterred by the iron hands which grasped his wrists and neck. His mind practically boiled over with frustration. He heard a voice intone, "That's it, Picard. It's over. You will surrender the powers back to me NOW!" Picard made one more futile attempt to wrench himself out of Q's grasp, but Q had finally mustered all his stores of determination. He said in a gentler voice, "Jean-Luc, I know you're in there somewhere. This is all wrong, and you know it. Give up the powers. It will be a lot more painful to you if I have to take them from you by force." Wordlessly Picard slumped on the ground, somehow knowing how to release the powers which had so transformed him. He relaxed his mind, his hands opened slightly, and he was human once again. Q didn't waste any time. Picard was a mess, his mind a fluctuating chaos of memories, thoughts, and surging emotions, and his identity was unstable, shattered into fragments by the sudden withdrawal of the all-powerful monster he had become. Q didn't know if much of the original Picard was left, but he sat down against a rock, gathered the unconscious Captain into his arms, and began probing through his brain, trying to rebuild the layers of Picard's consciousness, reassembling memories, sensations, feelings, thoughts, and beliefs, trying to reconstruct some identity Picard would recognize as himself. "Come on, Jean-Luc," Q murmured, brushing his lips against Picard's forehead, "I didn't go through all that to lose you like this." For hours, he quietly sat, cradling his patient and using his telepathic powers to put Picard's shattered self back together, to restore him to some vestige of who he was before he accepted Q's offer. Finally satisfied with the results, Q arranged Picard's still unconscious body in a resting position on the ground, and withdrew several feet away to go about the business of recovering himself. -- Atara Stein "All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein) Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap. 3 (2/2) Date: Mon, 07 Aug 1995 21:47:09 -0800 Message-ID: Qstruck Copyright (c) 1995 Atara Stein Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with double slashes (//). Chapter 3, Part 2 * * * Picard's head was reeling in a particularly sickening way. As he slowly regained consciousness, he had tried to get up, but collapsed, nauseous, exhausted, and dizzy. All he wanted to do was crawl into a hole somewhere and rest . . . for a few weeks at least. He was too overcome even to speak, but it was obvious he was in no condition to be traipsing around the galaxy. Q was pitiless, however; while Picard had lay unconscious, his own anger at both Picard and at his superiors had been building back up almost beyond the point of self-control. His compassion was used up, and he knew exactly what he had to do. His face was grim and utterly determined, he looked taller and inhumanly rigid, and his eyes flashed with a preternatural light. He was controlled fury incarnate; Q's flippant demeanor was a dim memory. When he spoke, his voice echoed, "Now that you're awake, we have a little journey to make, Picard." He yanked the Captain up by the arm, and they disappeared off the planet's surface in a blinding flash. An even more blinding flash announced their arrival at their destination. It was like nothing Picard had ever seen, and he was even more dizzied by the sight. He rested on a kind of platform overlooking what appeared to be a gigantic lake in space composed of white and silver light eternally flowing in swirls and ripples. All around the lake Picard could barely discern amorphous figures on similar platforms; it was as if their form kept changing, undulating with the rhythm of the swirling lake, and his attempt to get a fix on them so overwhelmed his senses that he lost consciousness, only to find himself instantly awakened and forced into a sitting position. His own muscles were incapable of supporting him; he knew it was Q that was holding him up. Even though every fiber of his being was tending toward unconsciousness, he intuited somehow that Q was also keeping him awake and aware of the proceedings, although Q did not appear to be paying him the least bit of attention. Retaining his adopted human form, but somehow appearing much larger, Q addressed the beings grouped around the lake. Picard realized that this was the Q Continuum, or at least one form it took, and he could barely breathe the air Q was, as a matter of course, providing him. When Q spoke, his voice resonated across the lake, his hands were gripped tightly into fists, and his entire being emanated fury and power. Picard was terrified; he had never seen Q in such a towering rage and realized that his clenched fists indicated a mind-boggling amount of self-control. Q spoke: "I have had enough, and this is my ultimatum. I am demanding that the Continuum cease altogether from trying and testing this human. I will refuse to cooperate in any more experiments that put him and his fellows in danger, and furthermore, I will do everything in my power to prevent any of you from doing so. If you have any intention of interfering with him or other humans again, you will have to destroy me first and be thorough about it, because any atom of consciousness I have remaining will be directed toward thwarting you. I will not allow any further trials of humankind. They will continue to evolve as they have been. We cannot continue to interfere in their development. We do not have the right to continue to put them in danger of destroying themselves and others. They may try our patience, but we are going to have to tolerate their inadequacies for a long time to come. They even have a few valuable qualities we lack, and if anything, we should try to learn what we can from them, instead of forcing them to try conform to our preconceptions. This human is neither a toy for our amusement nor an insect for us to examine. He may not have our capacities, but he is conscious, he is aware, and he has suffered from our interference and manipulation. I will not allow that to happen again. Not only am I demanding that we cease to interfere with this human and his species, but I am also declaring my intention to extend my protection to him for the duration of his natural lifetime and to any vessel he may command." There was just the slightest twinge of the old Q sarcasm in his echoing voice, as he concluded, "I await your answer." Q continued to stand, legs apart, arms folded, continuing at the same time to maintain Picard in a sitting position and to keep him conscious. It was absolutely silent; Picard knew that the debate was being carried on telepathically. Although he had no empathic abilities himself, he could sense a rising tension; the lake vibrated with the conflict. Q simply followed the discussion, his eyes flickering back and forth as he listened to the silent debate; he had nothing more to add. Picard could also sense that Q was continuing to muster a heroic self-control; he sensed that on the one hand the entity was trying to restrain himself from vaporizing the entire quadrant, and on the other hand, he was trying to battle down a mounting fear. Picard knew nothing about he workings of the Q Continuum, but from his knowledge of previous penalties they had imposed on Q, he guessed they were unlikely to be charmed with this challenge to their authority. His head began to throb ferociously along with the rest of his body; the combination of the suspense and the overwhelming magnitude of what he was observing were close to unbearable. Q remained pitiless, however; presumably he could have alleviated some of Picard's suffering, but he wasn't interested. He simply wanted the Captain awake and aware of what was going on, and he wanted him sitting up, so that the object of his ultimatum to the Continuum was not simply lying in a heap. In his exhaustion and suffering from sensory overload, Picard was about to begin to weep, when a voice inside his head resonated, "//Don't you dare, not here. Get a grip--think about how much *worse* I could make you feel.//" Picard was distracted from his agony by a flash and the arrival of what appeared to be a human male with blond hair tumbling over his forehead. He knew of course, it was another Q, taking human form for his benefit. The newcomer spoke, "Well, well, well, that was *quite* a speech, Q. Did you rehearse it on the way over here? You could have scavenged what's left of your Captain's mind here and at least gotten a few Shakespearean passages to spice it up." Without moving, Q slammed his colleague hard against the floor of the platform. "I'm not playing games now, Q. And I don't appreciate having the final deliberations closed off to me. I believe I'm still a full member here." The second Q got up, brushed himself off, and snapped, "We locked you out because we knew how you would react to anyone who spoke against you. No one here wants to be the target of one of *your* grudges. As it is, you won--with concessions. We will no longer test human beings or put them on trial or interfere with their development, and we will not prevent you from extending your protection to whoever you want as long as you don't give them an undue capacity to destroy whomever they happen to be quarrelling with at the moment." "I believe it was you who insisted on giving a human that capacity recently, not I. I said I would protect them; I won't actively interfere otherwise. What are your conditions?" "Well, it seems that this is a species with a remarkable lack of self-control. They apparently need to be monitored. We will not interfere, but we want to be kept informed about their development. If any of them start wreaking havoc in the future, we will consider them to be your responsibility, so you'd better see to it that they acquire some restraint and some awareness as they evolve. If this," he gestured toward Picard, "is the most advanced specimen you could come up with, and he came as close as he did to destroying an entire culture, then they're sorely in need of some guidance. And guess what, Q? You're the expert on their little species--they're *all* yours. I have to admit, though, they are fairly interesting as inferior species go--I'll be looking forward to your reports. Farewell, Q. I hope you find your new charges sufficiently entertaining." The second Q disappeared. Q was still seething. He felt a tremendous amount of relief, of course, that the Continuum had accepted his ultimatum instead of vaporizing him, but he was still furious with Picard for having put him in this position in the first place. He again yanked Picard's arm, snapping, "Let's go. I'm not through with *you* yet." * * * On board the Enterprise, which was now approaching Starbase 329, Riker turned the bridge over to Data and headed to Ten-Forward in search of Guinan. He found her behind the bar, looking distracted and troubled. "Can we talk privately?" he asked. Guinan nodded, beckoned to one of her assistants, then led Riker to her office. "What's going on, Guinan? Where's the Captain?" She sighed, "He's with Q. That's all I can tell you." "Do you think he's all right?" "I certainly hope so, Commander." * * * In an absolute fury Q returned himself and Picard back to the planet. The strain of the past several hours was too much for him, and he completely lost control. He raged, "You're lucky I don't rip every organ out of your body one at a time over and over again for the next century! The last thing I needed was another humiliation before the Continuum!" Picard was visibly sagging, despite Q mentally holding him up. Q yanked him up by the front of his uniform, so that his face was on a level with Q's and his toes were dragging on the ground. He would have been dismayed at his helplessness, but at this point, he was almost numb. Q gave Picard a shake, demanding, "Look at me! Do you have *any* idea, you witless, thick-headed, barbaric, presumptuous *Neanderthal*, how close I came to having to *kill* you? Do you have *any* idea what that would have done to me? DO YOU?" With every repetition of "Do you," Q gave Picard a violent shake. He then exclaimed, "If I don't make you suffer, I'm going to *explode*!" Q was about to ignite every nerve of Picard's body, but miraculously, he stopped himself. His wrath needed an outlet, however. While he was still holding Picard up with one hand, his other arm flashed, and Picard beheld a massive firestorm begin to devour the landcape around him. Trees went up like torches, then crumbled, boulders exploded, and the ground scorched. Picard and Q were standing in the eye of a fiery hurricane; the flames didn't reach them, but were whirling around outside the immediate area where they stood. As the flames raged, lightning crackled across the sky, flashing through the enormous pall of black smoke. Picard hardly dared to look at Q, but noticed that the entity actually seemed to be relaxing, growing calmer. Then, as suddenly as the firestorm started, it stopped. The smoke cleared, the lightning dwindled away, and the landscape was restored to its original condition. Q turned to Picard and remarked casually, "You know, Jean-Luc, you're lucky I have more self-control than you give me credit for. I almost did that to *you*." With a groan of disgust, Q lightly tossed Picard about ten feet away, as easily as one would toss a rag doll into a toy box, then finally relaxed his hold on Picard's consciousness, mercifully allowing the Captain to pass out. When he regained consciousness, Picard forced himself into a sitting position and put his head in his hands. He was utterly shocked at the amount of destruction he had been about to cause, and he was still reeling from the experience he had just had, although his memories of it were incoherent and confused. His body ached in every nerve, his head was throbbing, and his entire self-image was crumbling. Q, meanwhile, was trying to get a grip on himself. He had used a tremendous portion of his mental energies to subdue Picard and to confront the Continuum, and he hadn't been sure he was going to be able to do either without seriously harming the person who meant the most to him or being destroyed himself in the process. When he had recovered a little of his composure, he noticed Picard in an attitude of absolute despair. At this point, sympathy was not uppermost in Q's mind, although a good deal of his fury had abated after he had vented it with his display of pyrotechnics. Q had regained his self-control, but Picard's refusal to listen to him when he made the offer in the first place still ticked him off. And guerrilla psychotherapy had always been his preferred method of dealing with the vagaries of human behavior; empathetic and nonjudgmental listening were not part of Q's repertoire. "Oh, mon Capitaine," he said in a deceptively alluring voice, "or should I perhaps call you my fallen God? Whatever it is, I TOLD YOU SO! I know you better than you know yourself, with your high ethics and moral principles. Aside from the fact that you nearly demolished an entire Cardassian fleet, you were about to rearrange the entire Cardassian culture according to your own ideals. So much for your holy Prime Directive. If anything just proved to us that we need to keep a close eye on you, you just did it. Congratulations--you've earned yourself the exalted position of being a species permanently in need of our supervision." Q slowed his tirade long enough to notice that Picard was weeping. "Please Q," he said in the most trembling voice Q had ever heard him use, "please. I know I deserve the lecture; you were 100% right, and I was completely, totally, utterly wrong. But I can't stand being berated right now. I don't even recognize myself. I don't understand how I could have gone so wrong." "You're a human, Jean-Luc Picard. You are not a god. You are not capable of handling the powers of a god. You've always wanted to rearrange the galaxy in your own image; there's a good reason you haven't gained the capability to do so. If your species is going to evolve, it's going to be through gradual development; I've *finally* learned that even if the rest of my colleagues haven't. Trying to push you along faster than you're ready for is a mistake, but you, if anyone, ought to have known how tempting power was going to be to you. Or if you didn't know, you ought to have listened to me. You know, it's pretty damned frustrating to know everything, and no one listens to me. You ought to have learned to trust me by now; haven't I shown you that I have your best interests at heart, even if they contradict the wishes of the Continuum? Didn't I help you ensure the survival of your entire *miserable* species? And this is how you repay me? You just had to go follow the whims of your massive ego, which so far overreaches your capabilities and your capacity for self-control that it boggles the mind. And you thought you would do better than Riker did--that's a joke. He wouldn't have come close to conceiving the type of damage you were about to cause. Your species is admirable in its ambition and drive, I'll admit, and you in particular have an energy and will that we in the Continuum lack. But that's a good thing because that kind of energy combined with unlimited power is a recipe for trouble. I knew you would not be able to restrain your worst impulses and your narrow way of seeing things. To us, the conflict between the Federation and the Cardassians is just another minor skirmish in the history of the galaxy, two more groups of humanoids who are too foolish to perceive the ways in which they are alike and have interests in common. You, for all your ethical principles, still perceive things in black and white terms; the Cardassians were the enemy, and all of a sudden you had the power to do something about it. You may have been nearly omnipotent, but I didn't notice any great leaps of insight on your part. While your pitiful species does have a few virtues, the sudden acquisition of unlimited power would be too much for any human to take; even Ghandi would have probably exterminated the British. You're still too much the slaves of your worst impulses; fortunately your *extremely* limited abilities prevent you from doing too much damage, even though you nearly destroyed your own planet through wars and environmental devastation. You may have become slightly more enlightened in the past century or two, but you have a GOD DAMNED LONG WAY TO GO, and the only thing that really keeps you and other humanoid species from destroying the galaxy is that you keep each other in check. You were a lot more sensible when we first met, and you were defending what your species had accomplished up to now; I thought you were giving yourselves far too much credit, but at least you weren't overreaching. Save lives! Benefit humanity! Spread peace and goodness throughout the universe, my derriere! The thing that *really* gets me, the thing that utterly infuriates me, is that you accepted a challenge you knew you weren't ready for out of a petty, perverse, childish desire to prove me wrong. If I were you, Jean-Luc Picard, I WOULDN'T TRY THAT AGAIN." Picard continued to weep, but he heard and absorbed every word. "Q, I'm thoroughly and completely humiliated, I'm horrified at what I almost did, and I'm infinitely grateful for your intervention. You're absolutely right in your analysis of my motives, for which I'm deeply ashamed, and I deserve every word of your tongue-lashing and more, but," and here the sobs escalated, "what I really need is your compassion now, not your anger. There are no words to express my sorrow for what I've done, but I am sorry for not listening to you. But, please, I need your help to get through this; I don't know how to do it on my own!" Q's anger dissipated immediately at this confession. He sat down next to Picard and put his arm around the Captain's shoulders and let him cry uninterruptedly for several minutes. Finally, he said in a much gentler tone, "Jean-Luc, Jean-Luc, you're going to get through this. You're the strongest human I know. You made a huge mistake, but there's been no permanent damage done fortunately," he smiled wryly, "so consider it a learning experience." Picard had calmed down somewhat, but what Q said brought him up short: "You said 'fortunately.' Was it possible that you might not have been able to stop me?" "Oh yes, it was, Captain. When you have two powerful minds in combat with each other, usually the one with the most drive and motivation behind it wins, the one who sees victory more clearly. It's not a matter of physical ability, but rather mental energy. You were pretty damned determined, and I'm really not used to exerting myself that much; we don't have too much mortal combat going on in the Continuum. I mean, I probably could have simply destroyed you, literally ripped you apart to the molecular level, but you would have been extremely difficult to reassemble, and I kind of like having you around. So given the fact that I was trying to ensure your survival, I had to be a little circumspect in trying to restrain you. But these were the possible outcomes if I hadn't succeeded when I did: either you would have destroyed me or I you. I couldn't let you go on the way you were." Picard looked even more pale and stunned than before. "How reassuring. I was trying to kill you, wasn't I? And you were just trying to help me. Q, I don't know what to say." "How about 'thank-you for preventing me from destroying the galaxy and not killing me in the process, Q'? That should do nicely." "Thank you, Q. I don't see how I can ever repay you, but you have both my gratitude and my repentence." "Well, look, Jean-Luc, I have one more thing to say. You really terrified me in a way that I have never been terrified. It's not a feeling that agrees with me. And, if you *ever* frighten me like that again, or if you ever disregard my advice when it's for your own good, I'll have to . . . I'll just have to . . . *spank* you until you come to your senses. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not." Q's half-joking threat had the desired effect, and Picard was beginning to recover his equanimity. "Well, Q, I will make a point of *not* affording you that opportunity." ("//Too bad//," thought Q to himself.) "And thank-you, I do feel better," continued Picard, "although I don't think Counselor Troi would approve of your methods." He sighed, "I have never been made quite so aware of how fallible I am. It's going to be a difficult adjustment for me, but it looks like I'm going to have to defer to your judgment for a while." "Precisely," replied the entity. He suddenly leaned forward, placing his lips immediately next to Picard's ear, declaring in his most threatening manner, "And by the way, you'd better get *used* to having me around, because I'm going to be keeping a *very* close eye on you. Apparently keeping you out of trouble is a full-time job." "And would you like quarters prepared on board the Enterprise?" snapped Picard, trying to cover for the unease Q inevitably provoked in him with his insistent intrustions into Picard's personal space. Having such a powerful being at such close range was tremendously unsettling, but Picard hated to let his discomfort show. "As a matter of fact, yes. Actually, Jean-Luc," replied Q with his most insinuating tone, "I'd prefer to share yours, but I'll gladly accept the most spartan of available spaces. I can always redecorate." Picard looked at Q. "You really mean it? You're planning on staying on the Enterprise?" "Well, I don't expect to be there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I'm sure I'll take plenty of side-trips, use my frequent flier miles. But, yes, I am inviting myself on board your ship as a sort of semi-permanent observer, with the intent of facilitating comprehension and communication between my people and yours--there, that should sound good in a Starfleet report. It *is* part of your mission after all. I will give you my personal guarantee that I will not do anything to harm you or your crew, nor will I deliberately expose you to any danger. And the Continuum, while they promised not to interfere with you any more, made it very clear to me that I'm responsible for your pesky little species now. I'm supposed to supervise you rigorously, or some damn thing." "Why do you really want to do this?" "I've told you many times before, Jean-Luc: even if you are a human, you're my closest friend in the galaxy. Almost losing you made me see even more clearly how important you are to me." Q's tone grew instantly harder, "And, as I said, you need someone to keep an eye on you." "Q, I'm touched," said Picard drily, " but I'll have to think about this." "It's not as though you have much choice," responded Q airily, "I'm omnipotent, remember? And you, thank God, *aren't* any longer. Shall we go visit my new home?" -- Atara Stein "All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein) Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chapter 4, Part 1 Date: Tue, 08 Aug 1995 19:56:07 -0800 Organization: Lightside, Inc. Lines: 402 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: user47.lightside.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Qstruck Copyright (c) 1995 Atara Stein Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with double slashes (//). Chapter 4, Part 1 In a flash, Q and Picard materialized in the Captain's ready room. Picard was sitting in his chair trying to reassert his authority and his sense of himself, while Q sprawled comfortably on the couch. Returning to the ship made them both fall back into their familiar patterns of interaction; neither one was comfortable with wrenching emotions of the experience they had just shared. "Just a minute, please, Q," said Picard, "I'd better let them know I'm here." "I have all the time in the universe, remember?" said Q lazily, draping one leg along the top of the couch. As Picard walked out, Q perused Picard's Shakespeare volume, remembering ruefully, although not without regret, that he had once thrown it at him. Picard had good reflexes, however, and had caught it undamaged. "//Ugh//," he thought to himself, "//I really blew it that time. And a good thing too. Imagine Riker as a member of the Continuum! No, I can't. What a revolting prospect.//" Picard emerged from his ready room and was instantly surrounded by the bridge crew besieging him with questions. He waved them off wearily, and said, "I'm fine, really. I need some time though. Number One, you have the bridge for a while longer." Riker said, "Captain, I think you should be escorted to sick bay." "No, Will; I'll go let Beverly take a look at me in a little while. Right now, I need not to be disturbed." And Picard returned to his waiting companion. He felt a compelling urge to cover his own humiliation by asserting his authority. As the doors slid shut, he declared, "Listen Q, omnipotent or not, if you're going to stay on this ship you have to abide by certain conditions." "Yes, Captain." "First of all, you have to respect others' privacy. You can't just keep materializing in people's rooms. Try announcing your entrance first. There's a device known as a door chime." "Yes, Captain." "You have to make an effort to be civil to and respect the members of the crew. You may be omnipotent, but you are not a Starfleet officer, and you can't simply take over and start ordering people around." "Yes, Captain." "You can't go around playing your little tricks on people and disrupting the ship. My crew is here because they have jobs to do. If you want to show off, you may do so when your intended audience is on their own time, and only with their permission." "Yes, Captain. I do so love it when you speak sternly to me." "You have to . . . Q! I hate it when you lie there acting as if you're not listening to me." "Would this be an improvement?" Q was lying in the identical position, but suspended two feet above the couch. "Q, your parlor tricks . . . " "Amuse the hell out of you, but you hate to admit it." Q sat down on couch, looking attentive, and Picard couldn't repress a quick grin. "Please continue, Captain." "Fine. You have to realize that I am the Captain. I can't have you undermining my authority on my ship and questioning my decisions. Nor can I have you simply taking over when you think we're doing something the wrong way. Humans learn from their mistakes, as I am in the process of doing right now, and you have to allow us to make them." "Yes Captain, I will obey your every command, and I will defer most respectfully to your *august* authority." Q's voice then took on a serious edge. "But I have two conditions of my own. One, if I ever perceive you and this ship being in a life-threatening situation, and I perceive that that situation is beyond you and your crew's ability to handle it, I am going to step in, and I'm going to take over. I don't think mistakes have a whole lot of educational value if you're too dead to learn from them." "Understood," noted Picard. "I would ask that you give us every opportunity to try to solve whatever the problem is ourselves, but if it's clear that we cannot, then feel free to give us the benefit of your powers. What's your other condition?" "Honesty. I want you to be honest with me, Picard. The most advanced Betazoid's telepathic powers are nothing compared to mine. Not only can I read your mind and your feelings, but I can read every layer of your mind, conscious, subconscious, unconscious, repressed, whatever. I have access to every memory of everything that has ever happened to you and everything you have ever thought or felt. I can explain to you motives for actions you've taken that you're not even remotely aware of on a conscious level. I can replay what you were aware of in the womb after you became at all sentient. I can read you from the inside out and all the way through. In fact, I *rebuilt* your mind for you after you surrendered the powers back; you wouldn't *believe* what abysmal shape you were in. I know you better than anybody else does, including yourself. I will make a real effort to respect your privacy, difficult as that may be for me, but when I see you playing games with me, I'm going to call you on it. For instance, at the moment, you're trying to convince me that you're barely tolerating my presence on 'your ship.' You're trying to make me think that if I screw up at all, you're going to demand my departure. But inside, inside, Jean-Luc, you are overjoyed to have me here, not to mention grateful that I saved you from your own worst impulses. How about, 'Welcome aboard, Q. Make yourself at home'?" "I figured you'd do so whether I said so or not," replied Picard, who was feeling more than a little disconcerted at Q's description of his telepathic capabilities and didn't know what to make of Q's claims about putting him back together. "All I'm saying, Jean-Luc, is that I would appreciate it if, when we're alone at least, you stop being such a stiff, when you and both I know you genuinely enjoy my company and the diversion I provide. Remember when I took you back into your own past? You had a fine time confiding in me about your youthful misadventures. I used to think you lacked a sense of humor, but what I've realized is that you just repress it most of the time. The stern schoolmaster routine doesn't go over well, Jean-Luc; it just brings out the worst in me. I'd rather I *didn't* have to invade your mind to find out that you're glad to see me; I'd like to hear it once in a while. Just remember, you can't fool me, so don't try.""You're right, Q, I'm sorry, but I think we've both fallen into patterns of how we react to each other from our first meetings. You must realize that the crew will only accept your presence here if they feel like I'm keeping you in line, and even though we both know I have no way of actually doing so, I'd appreciate it if you'd help me sustain the illusion. In turn, I will try to relax my demeanor in private." "It's a deal. My *public* behavior will be exemplary." "Well, don't be offended if I say I'll believe it when I see it, but . . . Q, I really am happy to have you here. I don't know how I can ever express my gratitude for all you've done for me, but you've proved yourself a true friend, and you're right that I do find you a most entertaining companion, even if it's often against my better judgment. Welcome aboard the Enterprise." "Thank-you, Captain. I feel *most* honored to be here. By the way, you should know that I have established a permanent telepathic link with you. That way, even if I'm not around, I'll know immediately if you decide to go wreaking havoc through the galaxy again. The bad news, for you, is that I can read your mind even if I'm on the other side of the galaxy." Picard went slightly pale at this reminder of Q's telepathic ability. "The good news is," the entity continued brightly, "that if you ever need me, you can just summon me in your mind, and I'll be back, literally, in a flash." Picard responded thoughtfully, "Why is it, Q, that whenever you tell me something designed to be reassuring, you always have to include information that is unsettling, to say the least?" "Well, mon Capitaine, I don't want you to take my newly-acquired virtue for granted. For all my good intentions, there are some temptations I'm simply unable to resist. Self-discipline has never been my strong point." "Q, you agreed . . . " "I agreed not to undermine your authority in front of the crew except in life-threatening situations that are out of your control. I meant that. But that doesn't mean I'm never going to give you a hard time. I like giving you a hard time--it's *so* satisfying, and the results are always *so* entertaining. But if I do, I promise it will be in a way that no one else is aware of it. //For instance, we can carry on entire conversations without opening our mouths.//" Q had stopped speaking aloud, but Picard heard every word clearly, in Q's voice, inside his head. "//You can answer me the same way.//" Picard thought back his response, "//I have no idea how this is going to turn out, but I do know one thing. Having you on board the Enterprise certainly won't be boring.//" "//I'll make sure of that, Picard. Now would you like to show me my quarters? I know you have work to do, and I'm going to be kind enough to let you get back to it.//" "Work, hell," said Picard out loud, "I need a drink and some time to myself. You understand, don't you?" "Of course. Tough day at the office. I understand." * * * After showing Q to his new quarters, Picard had returned to his own. Collapsing with more than usual lassitude into an armchair, Picard felt himself enveloped in a rising panic. He was horrified at what he had almost done, but he was more urgently beset with a sudden terror at the notion of having Q remain on board the Enterprise. It was clear enough that Q had been trying to help him; their visit to the Continuum confirmed Picard's dawning realization ever since Q had saved his life that Q really did have some concern for him and was willling, as he now had on two occasions, to intervene between Picard and his less humane superiors. But at the same time, Picard could not forget that Q was an unpredictable, capricious, and volatile being with a ferocious temper and very little tolerance for human frailties. Promises of good behavior notwithstanding, there was no telling what he might do if sufficiently provoked. "//I have to trust him not to harm me or anyone else//," thought Picard. "//There's absolutely nothing I can do about it, other than asking, very politely, for him to leave.//" Picard's discomfort was further exacerbated by the realization that he really did *not* want Q to leave. He was feeling uncharacteristically unsure of himself, and Q, surprised as Picard was to admit it, seemed to offer a kind of support and reassurance Picard could not get anywhere else. No one else on board would have any real understanding of what he had gone though, except, perhaps, Riker, but Riker had not been granted anywhere near the power Picard had wielded. Picard's feeling of dependence on Q frightened him further. Q's presence on the ship would be a constant reminder of his own inadequacies. Normally he felt secure enough in his own abilities and in his faith in human progress to defy Q's derision and misanthropy. But now he was overwhelmed by the conviction that Q may have been right after all. Picard jumped up and began to pace; usually, even in emotional distress, he was much more contained, but his feelings about Q were in such conflict that his anxiety needed an outlet. Suddenly, he stopped pacing, having been brought up short by the realization that Q could have been following this entire internal debate. Picard recalled that his anxiety had started to rise when Q had described his mind-reading abilities. *That* was what he was really worried about. Any damage Q might cause if he lost his temper Q could as easily repair, but the thought of the total lack of privacy Picard was now subject to horrified him. At any moment, Q might be reading his mind, probing his thoughts, unearthing his self-doubt, his insecurity, his areas of vulnerability. Most of the time he could repress undesirable emotions; Picard was an extremely disciplined individual. But Q would have access to everything he was thinking or feeling, even what he needed to push to the back of his mind. This thought was initially terrifying to Picard. He felt the knot of panic in his chest begin to tighten even more. But part of Picard's self-discipline was the capacity to force himself to deal with whatever he couldn't change. He remembered that Q did not need to be on the Enterprise to read his mind; therefore, Q had probably already probed him on any number of occasions without him knowing it. Picard couldn't see any reason to believe that Q had used that knowledge against him. And Q had promised to try, at least, to respect his privacy. Picard sighed. He had the ability to see multiple sides of most issues, and it occurred to him that this particular power of Q's had the potential to be fairly liberating for him. Even with Beverly, Picard could rarely entirely relax and be himself. His own natural reserve and his position as Captain necessitated that he keep a certain amount of distance from his crew, even those he felt closest to. He had to be able to wield his authority, to give orders and expect they would be obeyed, regardless of the feelings of the crew member about those orders or any personal relationship. Since Q was, by definition, a being he could not begin to control at all, there was no need to maintain the reserve and distance his command required. And as Q apparently already knew him inside out, he had nothing to lose. "//Well//," he thought to himself, in a mood of resigned determination, "//since I have no way of getting rid of Q, and I can't do anything about his powers, I might as well make the best of it.//" Suddenly a voice in his head startled him. "//Very good, Jean-Luc. You've just learned the first lesson about dealing with me. Have the grace to accept what you can't do anything about and make the most of what I can offer you.//" "//And there's another lesson, too!//" snapped Picard in reply. "//What's that?//" "//You have absolutely no manners!//" "//I do so! I just have horrendous manners//," retorted Q, but genially. "//I really will try to keep out of matters that don't pertain to me, but it's impossible for me not to read your mind when I know you're thinking about me. That's just inevitable, Jean-Luc.//" "Wonderful," muttered Picard, but he couldn't help smiling to himself. Almost as much as his self-discipline, Picard's sense of humor, although often kept under wraps, was his saving grace. The absurdity of trying to deal with as powerful and as unpredictable and as alien a being as Q on a daily basis struck his fancy. It wouldn't be easy, but it was bound to be educational, if nothing else. Feeling reconciled, for the time being at least, to the presence of his omnipotent visitor, Picard moved to his terminal in order to inform Starfleet of this development. * * * Despite his undeveloped sense of empathy, even Q could figure out that Picard was going to need some time to absorb the events of the day and get back to the business of running his ship and being an ordinary mortal again. He spent several hours decorating and redecorating his quarters, selecting and rejecting furniture from a variety of time periods, styles, and civilizations. When he was finally satisfied with the result, he proceeded to the next order of business--creating a suitable wardrobe befitting a visiting dignitary ("//That'll be the day//," he thought to himself) from the Q Continuum. Q really was anxious to give Picard some evidence of his good intentions, and he decided to stop wearing the Starfleet uniform that irritated the Captain so much. As far as Q was concerned, he *had* earned it; after all he had more knowledge and ability than every Starfleet officer put together, but it seemed a minor concession to make. Q's taste in clothes was like his taste in furniture--not excessively ostentatious or flamboyant, but designed to attract notice. He dressed in an eye-catching purple and black ensemble, then he had to turn to the serious business of figuring out what he would do with himself when the Enterprise was not engaged in some sort of entertaining adventure and when Picard was not available to amuse him. Outside of Picard, Q was most intrigued by Data. The incongruity of the android's clear superiority and his intense desire to be more human was puzzling to Q, and anyway, Data was the only one who could come close to matching a portion of Q's knowledge. He resolved to cultivate Data as a friend, particularly as he knew Data was less likely than the other crew members to prejudge him or judge him based on his earlier actions. But meanwhile, he thought he had better not go announcing his presence to Data or anyone else until Picard was ready. He decided to see if any of the games and challenges in the computer could possibly be any match for him if he didn't use his powers, but limited himself to the human form he had adopted. Even so, he had created himself in an ideal form, his reflexes were perfect, and his intelligence was awesome. He slaughtered the computer at the highest level of every game he tried. "//Bor-ing//," thought Q to himself, "//maybe I'll try some of the fencing and martial arts programs on the holodeck one of these days.//" He had cast himself on the bed, in a position of utter boredom and lassitude, when the door chimed. It was Picard. "I'm sorry, Q, I didn't mean to keep you a prisoner in here, although I must say I'm really impressed with what you've done with the place." "Interior decorating is a hobby of mine. It's good to see you, Captain. I didn't think you'd want me wandering around the ship, having touching reunions with my old chums, before you had a chance to think of how you were going to inform your crew about your change of heart. They're bound to be a little puzzled given your previous reluctance to welcome me as a long-term guest." "No doubt. I've called a meeting of my senior staff, and I would, of course, like you to be there. By the way, Q, what happened to the uniform?" "I got the distinct impression that you never liked me wearing a Starfleet uniform, and I also thought it might smooth my relations with your crew a little if I didn't wear it. You humans are so touchy about things like uniforms and rank and all such trivia." Q was just about incapable of making a considerate gesture without relapsing into his usual sarcastic mode. Taking into account how others felt was pretty new to him, and he didn't want to be accused of going soft. "Thank-you, Q," said Picard, "that was very considerate of you. I appreciate your making concessions to our fragile human egos." Both men smiled; this type of banter was already growing natural to them. And Picard understood perfectly well that Q prided himself on his incorrigibility, his defiance of authority, and his insistence that he was a law unto himself. Instead of his usual mode of deriding human inferiority and making grandiose displays of his powers, Q was, instead, going to have publicly to submit to Picard's authority and make an effort to generate goodwill among a group of people who were bound to resent his presence. Given the image he'd been projecting of himself so far, it was understandable that Q would be embarrassed about making concessions to a species he had previously treated with utter contempt, and it was understandable that he would try to cover that embarrassment with sarcasm. As far as Picard was concerned, Q could be as sarcastic as he liked as long as he didn't interfere with his running of the ship. "Your amateur psychologizing is getting a little annoying, Picard," snapped Q, who had been unable to resist reading the Captain's mind, particularly as he knew he was the subject of Picard's ruminations. "You can't possibly begin to account for my feelings and motivations, so don't try. And if you could, you be overwhelmed by what you'd find out. If you're thinking of taking up counseling, I'd suggest you don't quit your day job." Picard couldn't help smiling. Q's embarrassment and discomfiture were so utterly plain that they were written all over him. "Listen, my friend," he said, "I really appreciate what you're trying to do. I don't exactly understand why you're making this effort to accomodate yourself to us, but it does mean a lot to me." As they walked out the door, Q announced grandly, "Aprés vous, mon Capitaine," and touched Picard lightly on the arm. Picard took in his breath sharply, then hastily tried to act as though nothing had happened. "//Gotcha, mon Capitaine//," thought Q to himself. -- Atara Stein "All we are is dust in the wind, dude."--Kansas, as paraphrased by Bill and Ted From: ataras@covina.lightside.com (Atara Stein) Newsgroups: alt.fan.q,alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW STORY: Qstruck, Chap 4, Part 2 Date: Tue, 08 Aug 1995 20:03:57 -0800 Organization: Lightside, Inc. Lines: 337 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: user47.lightside.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain;charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Qstruck Copyright (c) 1995 Atara Stein Qstruck is a Star Trek TNG novel in 17 chapters. The characters were created by Paramount Pictures, and I hope they'll excuse the liberties I'm taking with them. As each chapter is posted, it will be available at ftp.europa.com /outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q/, thanks to Mercutio, and ftp.healer.com/pub/misc/startrek/, thanks to Alara, so you can find previous sections there. I'm also happy to make the whole thing available on a *Mac* disk (so it's a religious preference, OK?) if you ask me nicely (I'll be even happier if you send me a disk--my finances are extremely strained at the moment). A note on punctuation: Dreams and alternate realities, which are discontinuous from the novel's "normal" timeline, as well as the characters' inner thoughts and telepathic "silent" conversations are indicated with double slashes (//). Chapter 4, Part 2 Q really was anxious to please Picard, although he was not at all ready to admit how anxious, and he really did want to make as easy as possible for the Captain to handle his advent on the Enterprise. To that end, he was willing to humble himself, to make proofs of his sincerity, such as shedding the offending Starfleet uniform, but he had no intention of humiliating himself. He might make concessions to these humans, and he might restrain his behavior, but he wasn't going to let them forget who he was either. For Q, to be taken for granted was death. He wanted to able to electrify a room every time he entered, and to do so, he had to convey a certain aura of danger and unpredictability even when behaving like a model citizen. He definitely hadn't appreciated Picard trying to analyze his behavior though. Q much preferred to be the one in control, and it perfectly suited him that he should be able to read Picard's mind without being read in return. Picard's ability to pinpoint his emotional confusion was annoying. There was nothing Q hated worse than being patronized, even indulgently. He restored his own equanimity, quickly, however, by reminding himself that even if Picard was getting some insight into his behavior and emotions, his own ability to penetrate every recess of Picard's mind, to unearth every thought and emotion, gave him a distinct advantage. With a few notable exceptions, including his interlude with Vash, which he hadn't taken dreadfully seriously (until she had decided to leave *him*--the nerve of that woman), his romantic relationships had been confined to members of his own kind. Although some members of the Continuum seemed capable of an eternity-long commitment, more often than not, Q relationships tended not to last more than a couple centuries. Since both beings involved always knew everything that was going on in the others' mind, a telepathic bond that was strengthened by proximity and emotional connection, it was impossible to conceal one's ambivalence about the other, those inevitable moments of revulsion when, despite all one's positive feelings the rest of the time, one looked at the other and and inwardly gasped, "//My God, what have I done?//" The ability of both partners to penetrate the other telepathically was terribly exciting in the initial stages of a relationship, and Q himself used his superior telepathic skills as a means of seduction, but after a century or two or three, it became harder and harder to gloss over the disillusion and disenchantment, every instance of which was instantly revealed to the other. Q particularly resented the lack of mental privacy, even though he had very little respect for others' desire for it, and he usually spent his time after the inevitable conclusion of a relationship wandering the galaxy with no fixed goal other than being away from his own kind and keeping his mind to himself. At least now, he would definitely have the upper hand . . . he hoped. * * * As they walked to the observation lounge, Q, as usual, felt impatient, a paradoxical quality in an immortal being, but a large component of Q's character. He would have just as soon teleported both of them there, since walking seemed like a waste of time, but he had enough understanding to know Picard would want to enter the room on his own power. "Jean-Luc?" said Q, "I have a small problem of my own that perhaps you can help me with. I've demolished every game in your computer, and I'm guessing the holodeck isn't going to offer me much more challenge, even if I restrain my powers. I already know everything about the workings of the Enterprise, and while I have some suggestions, I get the feeling they wouldn't be greeted with universal acclaim just yet. What I really need is a genuine challenge to occupy me. Any suggestions?" Picard didn't know what to make of Q's asking him for advice, but he did get a flash of inspiration. "Well, I do have an idea . . . but no, that probably wouldn't work." "Jean-Luc, you'd better say what you're thinking, or I'll just get it out of you my way." "Good point. What I was thinking was that if you genuinely do want a challenge, you try to reconcile your differences with Guinan. Your tenure aboard this ship will be a lot more enjoyable for everyone if you can make friends with her." "Jeez, Picard, I wanted a challenge, not an unattainable goal." "Well, my omnipotent friend, if you think you can't do it . . . " "Oh, I'll win her over; it just might take me a few decades." "You're immortal, remember? You could spare a few decades in cultivating what could be a very valuable friendship for you." "Well, I'll give it a try, Jean-Luc. Thank-you. My life has purpose now." They had reached the observation lounge, but Q paused for a moment. "//Jean-Luc, I want you to know that I'm really going to make an effort to get along with your crew and behave myself. As you've figured out, trying to adapt myself to others doesn't come easy to me. I'm used to being utterly self-absorbed and getting away with it. So I'll do my best, but if you don't expect too much you won't be disappointed.//" Picard replied in the same fashion, "//No one expects you to be a saint, least of all me. But just the fact that you're making the effort to interact with others instead of merely dominating them will make a difference. I don't expect Worf or Riker to become your best friends right away, but give it time. Data will react to you with a completely open mind, and Deanna is not one to hold onto grudges if she sees you trying to change. It's inevitable that they won't trust you at first; you've caused us a lot of pain and grief, and you've repeatedly insulted us as a species and as individuals. But I believe you're sincere in your efforts to reform, and eventually, they will too.//" "//Yes, dad//," sighed Q in return, "//I suppose this is the kind of situation where profuse apologies for prior behavior are in order. Just don't expect me to enjoy it.//" Picard put a hand on Q's shoulder, "//I know, mon ami. I'm convinced of your sincerity, although that's probably one the last things I would have imagined myself saying to you. Ready to face the lions?//" "//Maybe.//" And they walked in together. The senior officers were not only surprised to see Q walk in with Picard, but they were more suprised at how relaxed their Captain was with his erstwhile antagonist. Picard gestured to a chair, and Q thought it best to sit there rather than reclining on the table or hovering in the air. He looked grim and felt tense. "//How could I possibly be so transfixed by a human, of all things, to degrade myself like this?//" thought Q, "//I hope Q isn't watching me now--I'd never hear the end of it.//" At this reminder that he could be under the observation of his fellow Qs, Q erected a type of telepathic zone of privacy around himself; the Continuum would not observe or communicate with him except in an emergency or unless he was really drawing attention to himself with large-scale misbehavior. He glanced skyward momentarily, "//Bye, guys. I'm on my own.//" He then crossed one leg over another, leaned back in his chair, lightly pressed his fingertips together, tent-fashion, and waited. Picard spoke, "I've called this meeting to inform you that Q will be remaining on board the Enterprise for an extended visit. I have informed Starfleet that I consider this an opportunity for the exchange of knowledge and understanding, and after I explained the circumstances, they agree. I understand that our prior experiences with Q have not been conducive to the development of harmonious relations, but I believe Q to be sincere in his desire to get to know us, without causing us trouble or interfering with the running of the ship . . ." "On what basis, Captain?" snapped Riker as Worf simultaneously opined, "I don't believe anything he says." Q shot the Klingon a look of pure menace that froze Worf momentarily and left him furious with himself for feeling fear, but Q did not speak or otherwise move. "//Self-control, that's the ticket, self-control//," he thought to himself. Q also noted that, Picard did not reveal the least bit of concern that Q might vaporize Worf; a quick check revealed that Picard really didn't *feel* concern either. "//Jean-Luc's got more confidence in me than I have in myself; that's a new one//," thought Q, "//best try to justify it.//" "I am not willing to explain the circumstances, but Q got me out of an extremely dangerous situation when I was absent from the ship during the conflict with the Cardassians. He acted out of concern for the well-being of others as well as myself, and he proved himself a true friend to me. We might be at war right now if it weren't for his actions. And I might add, that this is not the first occasion that Q has acted in