Author's Note: Thank you for your continued support with this series. All of your reviews, likes, kudos, and messages are wonderful!
I cannae believe we're here!
Finally!
Finally we have reached Q!
Q is going to play quite a sporadic – yet important – role throughout this series. He's one of my favourite characters to write. I recall a TNG panel where de Lancie discussed the reason they used Q so sparingly was they didn't want to lose the idea of him being so powerful. They were concerned too much back and forth between Q and Picard (and crew) would lead to the audience viewing Q as less than 'almighty.'
*Shrug*
I think he's fascinated by humans in general, with a particular soft spot for our crew. Although this is our first chapter featuring him, I intend to use Q more than canon gave us.
This chapter is a mix of ups and downs. It was a joy to weave together.
I hope you enjoy it half as much as I did in writing it. It's another two-parter!
Friendly reminder, this is a retelling of series one. That means we're taking liberties with canon. My intention in this chapter is for Q to 'test' all of the main Bridge crew rather than just Commander Riker.
C/W: As part of Q's "game" he offers them the opportunity to change events in their past. Some of these include canonical events like Jack Crusher's death and Geordi surviving a fire as a child. Others are original. Just be advised there are some dark memories explored here.
As always, if you like my works or want to stay up to date with art, comics, or just like chatting about the fandom you can like/follow at charliefenwick.com or @TheTartanTart on Twitter.
-----------
"Emergency. Full stop!" Captain Picard ordered as they approached the grid.
"Reversing power, sir," Geordi acknowledged as he punched in the command to bring them to a full stop.
It was no easy feat at warp nine, but Geordi didn't want to take a chance of hitting Q's forcefield.
"Not now, dammit Q!" Picard said frustrated as he leapt to his feet.
"Shields and deflectors up, sir," Tasha cautioned.
There was a blinding flash of light followed by a mysterious object emerging in front of them. It had three feathers that seemed to dance in an invisible breeze.
"Humans, I thought by now you would have scampered back to your own little star system," said the familiar yet unwelcome voice of Q.
"If this is Q I'm addressing, we are on a mission of rescue where a group is badly injured," Picard said angrily. "We don't have time for your games!"
Picard was agitated. He knew that every minute counted in their reaching the colony on time. The longer they were delayed, the less likely they would be able to rescue trapped survivors.
But none of that mattered to the omnipotent Q.
"We the Q have studied our recent contact with you and are impressed," Q stated. "We have much to discuss, including perhaps the realisation of your most impossible dream."
A sense of trepidation fell upon the Bridge crew.
Captain Picard sighed.
"However intriguing that may be, we are now in the midst of an urgent journey," Picard argued. "Once that is complete, then, perhaps."
He hoped his appeal would please Q and buy them the necessary time to complete their rescue mission and save the colonists on Sigma III.
"You will abandon that mission, Captain. My business with you takes precedence. If my magnificence blinds you, then perhaps something more familiar," Q's voice said.
In a flash, the strange feathered being disappeared and was replaced by Q wearing a uniform they all recognised.
"Starfleet Admiral Q, at your service," he said with a low bow.
Captain Picard had reached his limit.
"You are no Starfleet Admiral, Q!" he bellowed as he approached the mysterious and powerful being.
Q was unphased by the captain.
"Neither am I an Aldebaran serpent, Captain. But you accepted me as such," Q countered.
"He's got us there, Captain," Riker said, feeling the need to step in and try and talk the captain down.
"The redoubtable Commander William T Riker, whom I noticed before," Q said as he eyed Riker. "You seem to find this all very amusing."
"I might if we weren't on our way to help some suffering and dying humans who need-" Riker retorted but Q brushed him aside.
"Your species is always suffering and dying," Q said dismissively as he stepped toward Geordi La Forge.
"We are on an urgent mission. One of which the timing is crucial," Picard warned.
"Geordi La Forge. You are quite brilliant," Q said as he circled Geordi at the helm. "For a human. Loyal to a fault, and yet so alone."
Data could see Geordi tense at Q's insinuation. It was a sensitive subject for the tender-hearted engineer.
"And Commander Data, what a fascinating lifeform you are," Q said as he gripped Data's shoulders.
"Thank you, I think," Data replied stiffly.
"No, thank you," Q said appreciatively. "Watching your emotional development has been the most entertaining thing I've seen in the last three hundred years."
A look of confusion fell on Data's face.
He wasn't particularly comfortable with the idea of Q 'watching' anything regarding his existence.
"What do you want, Q?" Picard demanded.
"Oh hush!" Q said. "I'm done playing with you, Picard. You're all bark and no fun."
Q stepped away from Data and over to Doctor Crusher.
"The Good Doctor," Q said as he kissed the back of Beverly's hand.
He knew it would add salt to Picard's emotional wound and relished in the idea of getting under his skin.
"All the medicine in the world can't fix a broken heart, can it?" Q asked rhetorically.
Beverly looked like she'd been slapped.
She sat back in her chair, aghast at his comment.
Q turned his attention to Deanna.
"And Counsellor Troi, such a burden to bear as you carry all of the emotional output of the ship," Q teased. "You can feel it, can't you? All the fear and anticipation on this Bridge. It's a wonder you don't BURST from the excitement!"
He jumped at Deanna, and she flinched.
She felt blind without the ability to read his emotions.
Deanna crossed her arms and sat back in her chair with a frown.
"Oh, rest easy Counsellor," Q laughed.
Q disappeared and reappeared suddenly behind Worf with a loud 'pop.'
"Lieutenant Worf. Trapped between two worlds. Neither Klingon nor human enough for either," Q commented.
Worf grumbled in response.
"But your big, beefy muscles hide the fact that you're really quite a softie underneath it all, aren't you?" Q said as he squeezed Worf's biceps. "Nothing like shedding a tear over a good Klingon opera or an evening of poetry."
Q flitted across the back of the Bridge to the tactical station.
"And dear Natasha, you don't like me," Q observed feigning insult as he brought his hand to his forehead and whimpered dramatically.
"Is it that obvious?" Tasha asked bluntly.
Q smiled and stepped closer.
"Quite the opposite of your counterpart," he said as he shot a glance to Worf.
Tasha wanted to back away but held her ground.
"Yet underneath those soft eyes and that cute little nose," he said as he tapped the end of her nose. "Positively unbreakable."
Q disappeared once again and re-emerged a second later seated in Captain Picard's command chair.
"Q we must reach the colony. You are delaying a mission of compassion and rescue!" Picard snapped.
"Oh come, Picard. Why do you distrust me so?" Q asked as he crossed his legs and made himself comfortable.
"Why?" Picard shouted. "At our first meeting you seized my vessel. You condemned humanity as savages, and on that charge you tried us in a post-atomic twenty first century court of horrors! You attacked my crew! You again seized my vessel!"
"And that angered you, didn't it, Jean-Luc," Q taunted as he mocked the Captain. "Seized my vessel. Seized my vessel!"
"You interfered with our Farpoint mission. You threatened to convict us as ignorant savages, if, while dealing with such a powerful and complex life form, we made the slightest mistake," Picard disputed. "And when that didn't happen-"
Q jumped out of the command chair and stopped inches from Captain Picard's face.
"We became interested in you," Q snarled with a wicked smile. "These are the complaints of a closed mind too accustomed to military privileges. Does no one here understand your incredibly good fortune?"
Picard was exasperated and Commander Riker could sense it.
Although they had a limited understanding of the Q, he was concerned Picard would say something to anger the entity.
"We have people that need our help," Riker said in an even tone. "We don't have time for your games."
Q's face lit up as he turned excitedly to Riker.
"Games!" he cried. "Games! Did someone say games?"
Data felt uncertain.
Geordi's throat grew tight.
Worf felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach.
Beverly and Jean-Luc shared a nervous glance.
Tasha's fists clenched.
And Deanna felt all of it.
"Perchance, for interest's sake, a deadly game," Q said deviously. "To the game!"
He snapped his fingers and Captain Picard found himself alone on the Bridge.
-----------
Data glanced around and scanned the surrounding area. He accessed his internal informational database as he tried to identify their location. It was unlike any known planet he was familiar with.
The soil was sandy. There were limestone rock formations as far as the eye could see with sparse vegetation. It appeared to be daylight as he could not see the stars. Data was disappointed in this as it limited the tools he had available to help pinpoint where they were.
Although celestial navigation was off the menu, there were twin moons clearly visible in the eerie green sky.
At the very least, Data breathed a sigh of relief that all of the Bridge crew were present and accounted for – except the Captain.
"Where are we?" Riker asked.
"Obviously a class M world. Gravity and oxygen within our limits," Data advised.
"Twin moons," Geordi commented as he looked up at the sky. "Where are we?"
"Considering the power demonstrated by the Q the last time, I would surmise anywhere," Data replied darkly. "Assuming this place even exists."
It was an unsettling thought.
Any world solely created by Q could spell disaster.
"If Q is anything, he's imaginative," Riker said as he put his hands on his hips. "Apparently our Captain wasn't meant to be here with us."
Tasha felt to be sure her phaser was still in place as she scanned the horizon.
"Sir, over here," she called out as she spotted a tent a few meters away.
It was Q, lounging in a Napoleonic French uniform complete with a tricorn hat.
"Join me!" he said in a friendly manner as he waved them over. "A good game needs rules and planning. Wasn't it your own Hartley who said nothing reveals humanity so well as the games it plays?"
Q paused and flashed them a sneaky grin.
"Actually, you reveal yourselves best in how you play," he cautioned.
Data leaned in close to Commander Riker.
"Sir, what he has in mind might provide us with vital information," Data suggested.
They would have no way to be certain, but Data believed the odds of learning more information through compliance were better than resisting.
Feeling a mix of both reluctance and curiosity, Riker waved them forward to Q's tent.
Riker took a seat next to Q at a small table.
In a flash of light, a cool glass of liquid appeared before him.
Riker didn't need to taste it to know exactly what it was.
Tempted, he raised it to his lips.
"Incredible," he said. "I was just thinking about an old-fashioned lemonade."
"And so it became that," Q said mysteriously. "It does get rather hot out on this plain."
"What about my people?" Riker asked as he indicated to the team behind him.
"Whatever they'd like, of course!" Q replied genially.
Suddenly, glasses appeared in everyone's hands.
Data smelled the amber liquid before him and identified it as the same type of whiskey he had first tasted in Tasha's quarters.
Geordi looked sceptically at his own glass. It appeared to be a Pericles Punch, but he wasn't sure if he should drink it.
Beverly had taken a sip of her drink and recognised it instantly as nothing more than cool water.
Tasha and Worf exchanged a look. Wordlessly, they both agreed these drinks couldn't be trusted.
Deanna sensed their trepidation and thought better of trying the beverage that had materialised before her.
Tasha set hers down on the ground.
She bit back a grin as she watched Worf make a point of dumping his into the sand and throwing the glass against the rock.
Unbeknownst to them, Q had caught both of their actions.
"Drink not with thine enemy. The rigid Klingon code," he said dramatically. "That explains something of why you defeated them, Riker."
Worf grumbled in response.
"Do you like it?" Q asked as he tugged on his uniform. "I borrowed this from your stodgy Captain's mind. This is dressing for a game that we will play."
Q snapped his fingers and the crew looked down as they realised their own uniforms had been replaced.
Data's throat felt tight as he looked down at his bare arms. Instantly, he recognised he was dressed in the sleeveless jumpsuit he'd been forced to wear during his early days of confinement at Starfleet.
Commander Riker was surprised to see he was dressed in a snowsuit he hadn't worn since he was young.
For her part, Beverly recognised the red uniform of her early days as a medical officer aboard the USS Hartford.
"Now, games require rules and rewards. Dangers and familiar settings," Q teased.
With another snap of his fingers, they all disappeared.
-----------
"This isn't that familiar to me, Data?" Riker asked as he looked around their new location.
They were surrounded by people that appeared to be in great agony. They were in a city of some kind. By the looks of it, something violent had recently occurred.
"This is Bentimiin," Data advised as he spied the tower in the distance. "The capital city of a planet known as Gurien. It was a Federation colony that is no longer in existence. In 2353 almost the entire population was wiped out by-"
"A plague," Beverly said in a strange voice as she stared wide-eyed at the empty city.
"But these wounds don't look like any plague I've ever seen," Geordi said as he spied two people trying to dress a head wound.
"There not," Beverly said as she watched them. "This is the day the capital city fell."
She felt her eyes start to water as she recalled the day.
It had been one of her earliest away missions in Starfleet after being assigned to her first posting.
The USS Hartford was a medium class cruiser ship.
It had arrived several days earlier to assist with a plague that had ravaged the Federation colony.
But the plague had proven unlike anything they'd ever seen. They needed more support from a specialised medical vessel – and the closest medical ship was three days out.
Before it could arrive, the frightened and angry colonists had revolted against the capital city and Starfleet in a night of violence and terror that Beverly would never forget.
"We spent all night barricaded in the Ambassador's office trying to triage the wounded," Beverly recalled aloud. "There wasn't enough time. There were far too many of them."
"But you would have saved them all if you could," Q's voice teased.
"We couldn't," Beverly insisted.
In the distance, everyone could suddenly hear what sounded like pounding.
Beverly turned and looked at a large wooden gate that was moving back and forth against the weight of something.
"There wasn't time," she said as she pointed to the gate. "They got in. And they killed everyone they caught."
Suddenly, the gate burst open. An armed mob rushed inside.
"Q!" Riker shouted.
Worf, Data, and Tasha grabbed their phasers and assumed a defensive stance.
"We need to get you out of here," Geordi said as he grabbed Counsellor Troi and scanned for a safer area.
Beverly stood motionless as the mob rushed toward them.
Suddenly, it stopped.
Entirely frozen in place and only meters from the crew.
One of the injured men on the ground jumped up and revealed himself to be Q.
"That's the power of the Q, Doctor," he said. "All of these people could have been saved."
Q clapped his hands and the mob vanished.
The dead and dying that had littered the street were replaced with colonists going about their daily lives.
"Is this real?" Beverly asked as she observed a young couple walking hand in hand past them.
"Anything is real with the power of the Q," Q replied.
Without warning, the scene around them changed again and they were standing in what appeared to be starbase living quarters.
Beverly brought her hand to her mouth as she traced her fingers along the countertop that looked out onto the living area.
It was their home on Starbase 92.
The home she had shared with Jack.
She watched with fascination as a young Wesley Crusher toddled across the carpet.
"There's my boy," Jack Crusher said as he appeared in the doorway and scooped up the child.
Geordi scanned the room with his VISOR hoping to detect anything that would indicate if this was a hologram or other type replicated image.
But nothing he read indicated it was unreal. In fact, all of the indicators pointed to this being very real.
Tasha reached out and gripped Beverly's hand.
"This was right before he left for his assignment on the Stargazer," Beverly said softly.
She watched as her late husband hoisted their giggling son above his head.
"It's so real," she remarked.
"It is real with the power of the Q," Q said as he stepped up behind her.
In a flash of light they were standing inside the morgue of a Starbase.
On a slab before them was the body of Jack Crusher.
Q took Beverly's hands and guided her over to him.
"You have the power to make it real," Q told her. "Accept the life you always wanted."
Beverly's hands trembled centimetres above Jack's face.
"Use it," Q whispered. "Use the power of the Q."
"This isn't real," Beverly said suddenly as she took a step back.
She put her hands out in front of her, feeling the need to put some physical space between her and the body of her late husband.
"This is just a memory," Beverly said as she closed her eyes.
"All the birthdays, holidays, little things he's missed," Q taunted. "Don't you think Jack deserves the chance to see Wesley follow in the old man's shoes? Doesn't your son deserve his father?"
"This isn't real," Beverly repeated firmly.
"Interesting," Q said maniacally.
-----------
"I refuse to participate in this game," Worf said immediately as they suddenly emerged on the plateau of what looked like farmland.
Worf didn't need to investigate it further. He recognised it immediately as Khitomer.
The place of his birth.
He knew this was the farm his parents had toiled on before their untimely demise.
He also knew that at any moment, Romulan scout ships were going to drop into the atmosphere and lay waste to the peaceful community of Klingons.
Worf had been young – before the age of inclusion – but not so young that the memories were lost to him.
As if on cue, the sound of Romulan ships closing on their location echoed across the sky.
"Mogh!" a voice called out.
A Klingon woman came running out of their home as she frantically searched for her family.
"Mother," Worf said quietly as he watched her.
He looked away.
He couldn't allow himself to get caught up in Q's fantasy.
"Worf!" she cried. "Worf, where are you?"
"Is this your idea of a game?" Tasha said indignantly. "Forcing people to relive their most painful memories?"
"Stand down, Lieutenant," Riker ordered.
He didn't want to anger Q.
"Not all pain, Natasha," Q replied.
The setting changed again and Worf realised with embarrassment they were at the gardens outside of the Klingon Embassy on Starbase 173.
It was ten years earlier when he'd been stationed there as a young security officer.
And she was there.
A tall, slender Klingon woman stepped over to the Bridge where a young Worf was watching the water below.
"K'Ehleyr," Worf said under his breath as he watched her.
So that's her name! Tasha thought to herself as she recognised from the picture Worf kept on his desk.
"You could have your parents back," Q said as he dangled the possibility in front of Worf. "And her."
Worf felt a sting in his heart as he recalled that evening.
She had been offered a new position within the Klingon Embassy that would require significantly more travel.
Worf had offered to wait for her – make a go of a long-distance relationship – but she'd turned him down.
No, quick and clean was the manner in which she did all things.
"We could take the oath," the young Worf suggested.
"You're sweet, Worf. But neither of us is ready for that," she replied.
'Sweet?' Commander Riker mouthed to Geordi in disbelief.
A second later, Deanna elbowed Riker in the ribs and shot him a stern look.
She could sense how important this moment had been for Worf and he deserved to relive it without Riker's commentary.
"ENOUGH!" Worf shouted as he watched the younger version of himself lip-locked with the flame that had broken his heart.
Q emerged from behind a tree looking sour.
"But you could have anything. The glory you've always sought," Q explained.
Worf suddenly found himself dressed as the head of the Klingon High Council.
"You would be invincible in battle," Q offered. "An unstoppable force. More Klingon than even Kahless himself."
"I am not fit to wear this unless it is earned," Worf retorted.
Q crossed his arms and strolled lazily along the garden path.
"I should have known you wouldn't be any fun," Q muttered.
He stepped over and gripped Deanna's hands.
"It's so sad when young love doesn't work out," Q said with mock tenderness.
"No, don't," Deanna said as she shook her head.
-----------
It was Betazed.
A look passed between Commander Riker and Deanna as they braced themselves for what was coming.
"What if you could go back in time and restart?" Q asked. "Do it all again. And do it right the second time around?"
In the moonlight, a twenty-five-year-old Will Riker was carrying around a young Deanna Troi.
He had thrown her over his shoulder, and they were laughing as he spun around.
"Stop Bill! I'm going to be sick!" she giggled.
He stopped and set her down on her feet.
"And you won't be here to take care of me after tomorrow," Deanna said.
Will dropped his gaze to the stone path beneath them.
"Deanna, you know I have to-" he started to say but she cut him off.
"Stay," she said softly. "You don't have to take that assignment."
Will sighed and ran his hand back through his hair nervously.
"I do if I want to make Captain," he said.
The scene froze.
"With the power of the Q you could make sure your dear Imzadi stays," Q said in Deanna's ear.
Q clapped his hands and they watched as the scene seemed to move backwards in front of their very eyes.
"Stay," she said softly "You don't have to take that assignment."
Instead of scratching his apprehensively like he had the first time, in this instance, the younger Will Riker took Deanna in his arms.
"I could never leave you, Imzadi," he said. "I could never leave this. Us."
Deanna pushed Q away.
"I don't need your fake romance," Deanna scoffed. "These things are not worth having if they aren't real. Right, Will?"
She turned to Commander Riker but when their eyes met, she realised just how much he was struggling with this.
He was tempted.
Very tempted.
"Right, Will?" she repeated louder.
"Uh, yeah. Right," he said, distracted.
-----------
It was cold and they could all feel it. They were sitting inside what appeared to be a rudimentary shack as a wicked wind howled outside.
"I'm going back home to resupply," a large man bellowed from the doorway.
"Can I come with you?" a young man said as he sprang up.
It was a thirteen-year-old Will Riker, and he was terrified of the prospect of spending the night alone at their hunting cabin.
"No. You need to stay here," his father ordered. "Somebody's got to look after our haul."
The two men had spent the last week high up in the mountains working their trapping lines in anticipation of the upcoming spring.
It was late winter and for the last three nights an unusually large grizzly had been stalking their camp. So late in the season, it was nearing the time they would emerge from hibernation.
Food was scarce this time of year.
If they didn't guard them carefully, the bear was likely to get into their supplies or their haul from trapping.
"But what if the bear comes back?" he asked.
He didn't want to be left alone.
Not all night.
Not out here.
"Will, you have to man up some time," his father said dismissively. "I'll be back in the morning. And you better make sure our haul is protected."
"Dad!" young Will Riker called out as his father opened the door.
"Will, did your father really leave you there?" Deanna asked, concerned.
"With the power of the Q you could make that bear disappear," Q said as he appeared behind Commander Riker.
There was a banging noise outside and they watched as poor young Will clutched his firearm tightly.
There was a banging noise from outside as something heavy was knocked over.
"You could even make your father come back and deal with it if you really wanted," Q said as attempted to entice Riker.
They could all hear it. There was something large just outside of the cabin.
The crew watched as young Will Riker cautiously pulled back a curtain to peak outside.
"They usually avoid people," Riker said nervously. "But it had been a hard year."
Young Riker dropped the curtain as soon as he saw the bear rummaging through their haul.
He pressed his back to the wall and closed his eyes as he tried to summon the courage to formulate a plan.
"I had never so been afraid in my life," Will confessed. "Not just of the bear – but of my father."
Deanna looped her arm through his as they watched Will give his firearm the once over and pull the hood on his snowsuit over his head.
Deanna understood Will had a difficult relationship with his father. He rarely spoke of the man.
In fact, Will had only really spoken of him when discussing why it was important to treat officers with dignity and respect rather than berating them. His father was the very reason for the younger Riker's entire approach to discipline being understanding and patience.
It was the type of nurturing he'd never gotten at home.
"With the power of the Q, young Will Riker would never have to go through that," Q reminded him.
He knew he had Riker hooked.
"Use it," Q said, encouraging him. "Use the power to stop it."
Will closed his eyes and suddenly the noise of the bear disappeared.
It was gone.
Vanished.
Q began to applaud.
"Marvellous! Simply marvellous!" he said cheerily. "I knew you would be too smart to pass up such an offer."
Everyone looked around at one another.
"Are you saying that Commander Riker has been granted the power of the Q?" Data inquired. "Is that what this game is all about? Testing us to see who will give in to impulse?"
Q shook his head.
"No my dear android friend," Q said. "It's about finding which of you is ready to accept the generous gift I am willing to bestow."
Data and Tasha exchanged a glance.
Neither of them was buying into Q's line.
"But you don't help humanity, you study it," Tasha argued. "We're like lab rats to you."
Q feigned insult.
"Never!" he said as he clutched his chest. "I find you fascinating."
Tasha glared at Q.
She couldn't fathom it being possible that this omnipotent being would just offer its powers to them without some kind of catch.
"Now, who will be the next of you bold enough to seize this opportunity?" Q said as he circled the group.
Q stopped and looked hard at Geordi.
"As I said, you are quite clever," Q grinned as he approached the engineer.
"No, no, no," Geordi insisted as he waved his hands. "I don't want any part of this."
-----------
They were in a home. A home from approximately 30 years earlier.
It was the bedroom of a child.
Data spied a young boy asleep in the bed for a young child. It was close to the ground.
Suddenly, his olfactory receptors picked up on the smell of something burning.
His human crewmembers began to cough.
"There's a fire," Beverly commented as she covered her mouth.
"I told you. This is all real," Q drawled, chastising them for not believing in his powers.
"Oh man," Geordi said uncomfortably as he watched his younger self sit up in bed as a fire alarm began to sound.
The siren cut through dark and had only added to his confusion.
He was terrified.
Geordi had been quite young.
But he remembered that night all too well.
He recalled how frightening it was being alone in that room.
He could smell the smoke and acrid air from their burning home.
"With the power of the Q, little Geordi would never have to experience this," Q said in a low voice. "No nightmares. No trauma."
Geordi felt like he was having trouble breathing – and it wasn't just from the smoke.
The young Geordi was crying as he tried to make his way to the door.
Geordi looked away.
He closed his eyes and tried to push it from his mind.
"No," he said in a strained voice.
Q rolled his eyes and suddenly the group found themselves on the Bridge of a starship.
Data identified it as a Soyuz-class starship likely constructed between 2271 and 2273.
"It's the Magpie," Geordi informed them.
There were klaxons blaring a red alert warning as crewmembers were rushing about.
"Take Franks and Liu and get out of here!" Geordi hollered across the Engineering section.
He tapped his communicator badge.
"Captain, we need to evacuate! We're leaking dangerous levels of radiation down here," Geordi advised. "I can't stabilise it!"
Crewmen were pouring out of Main Engineering as Geordi began to seal off the area.
All of sudden, everyone stopped.
Q materialised sitting on the centre console.
"Just imagine how useful it would be for a chief engineer to have the power of the Q," he said. "How many people died on this ship?"
"134," Geordi said bitterly.
Q shrugged.
"I rest my case," he said simply. "You could save them."
"Do you think this is what we want?" Geordi said heatedly. "To, to play with the timeline for some kind of ego stroke?"
"Isn't helping others what your pathetic Federation is all about?" Q said, flipping the metaphorical ball back to Geordi's court.
"It is. And right now we're being held up from a very critical rescue mission because of your game, Q!" Geordi retorted.
"Last opportunity, La Forge," Q taunted.
"Not a chance!" Geordi replied defiantly.
Data's figurative heart swelled with pride as he watched Geordi stand firm against Q's offer.
Without thinking, Data smiled openly.
"What's so amusing, Commander?" Q asked as he turned to Data.
"Your attempts to entice us with your abilities have proven largely unsuccessful," Data said. "Perhaps humanity is more developed than you give it credit for."
"Developed?" Q asked in disbelief.
He threw his head back and laughed.
-----------
"Like this?" Q questioned as they found themselves standing in a research lab.
Tasha noticed Data's posture stiffen.
There was a subtle change in his artificial breathing pattern.
Instinctively, she put her hand on his back.
"Data?" she asked softly.
He didn't respond.
He was fixated on the large polymer crate that had been in his cage for 1213 days.
Although Data had been slowly opening up to Tasha and Deanna about the experience, he had never wanted anyone else to see this.
A young, thin man in a science officer's uniform strolled into the lab. He keyed in a series of commands on a handheld device and the door to Data's crate slid open.
"Out," the man ordered.
Data, entirely ageless and wearing a simple jumpsuit, emerged from the crate.
"Data, is that?" Tasha trailed off as she eyes the man before her.
"Yes," Data replied without taking his eyes off the scene before him.
Commander Maddox handed Data his beloved violin and bow.
Data recalled that he wanted to express his gratitude, but knew he was not permitted to speak without permission.
"You may speak, android," Maddox said.
Data ran his hand along the wood, feeling the familiar touch of the piece.
He recalled feeling hopeful for the first time at the sight of his violin.
"I am most grateful that you-" Data stopped as Maddox held up a hand to silence him.
"Ah, ah. You are not grateful, Data," Maddox warned.
"You are correct, Sir," Data said meekly.
"And why is that?" Maddox asked coldly.
"I am an android, Sir. I am not capable of feeling," Data responded emotionlessly.
"Very good," Maddox replied.
Geordi looked back at Data in shock.
He knew Data had experienced a difficult time during his early days with Starfleet. But he had no idea this was the kind of treatment he had been subjected to.
It was a miracle Data had emerged from the experience with any ability left to trust humans.
Deanna could sense the pain Data was feeling.
"So helpless," Q said as he appeared next to Data with a soft 'pop.'
"May I ask a question?" the Data in the scene asked.
"One question," Maddox said, indulging the android.
"Am I a prisoner?" Data asked flatly.
Maddox scoffed.
"No Data, you are not a prisoner," Maddox smiled.
"Then am I permitted to leave of my own free will?" Data inquired, risking a second question.
"I don't recall permitting you ask a follow up question," Maddox snapped as he activated the implant in Data's neck.
It sent a shockwave through the android's system.
The crew watched in horror as Data dropped to his knees, convulsing violently.
"People are prisoners, Data. Machines are property," Maddox hissed.
"You could ensure this kind of thing never happens," Q explained. "Accept the power of the Q."
Data didn't respond.
"You, of all Picard's crew, are most ready to take that step. Your curiosity. Your big, juicy brain," Q said eagerly. "The wonderful things you could do for the universe."
Data stood fixated on the scene before him, entirely lost in the trauma of that time in his life.
"Stop it!" Tasha demanded suddenly. "Stop this, Q."
"This is cruel!" Geordi cried out.
"End this, Q," Riker said as he watched in shock.
Q sauntered over to the table in the lab.
"But this is who you are, humans," Q said. "This is your precious Federation at work!"
Tasha squeezed Data's hand, spurring him to speak.
"This is not Starfleet," Data said suddenly.
He closed his eyes and steadied his nerves.
"These are not our values. This is the work of someone who abused his power," Data raised his head and met Q's eyes. "Which is why I must reject your offer. Because absolute power corrupts absolutely."
Tasha smiled at Data and gave his hand a squeeze.
She was so proud of him.
A metre away, Geordi flashed Data a thumbs up.
Q looked annoyed.
He'd struck out on five of six last attempts.
And now he was left with the one he most suspected was likely to reject him.
She was too much like Picard.
Q thought carefully as he considered how to approach his next pitch.
He kept a straight face as he stepped in front of Tasha.
"Don't waste our time," she said in a calm voice. "We both know the answer is no."
"You of all Picard's crew know first-hand just how cruel and savage humanity can be," Q said as stepped closer.
"The answer is no," Tasha reaffirmed.
"As I examine your past, there are so many memories. I'll admit I'm having a hard time choosing," Q confessed.
-----------
Without warning, they were on the hot, dusty plains of Turkana.
In front of them was a decrepit metal building and there were several land vehicles parked outside.
They had large tires and roll cages.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
A group of young children came running out of the building hotly pursued by several heavily armed men.
"Go, go!" the oldest child shouted encouraging the others. "Scatter!"
Tasha kept her face neutral as she watched.
She had been eleven and part of a group of children that had been taken in by a kindly woman that ran an orphanage of sorts. The nature of the Turkanan instability meant orphanages were often targeted by human traffickers.
For the last few days they had been on the run from a group that had killed their benefactor and raided their compound.
Tasha was the oldest.
Even at that age, she felt a sense of duty to protect the others.
She scooped up one of the little ones that was too slow to outrun the adults.
Her pace slowed enough that they were quickly captured.
"The answer is no, Q," Tasha said. "And I'm not playing your game anymore."
Tasha sat down in the sand and crossed her arms.
She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.
One of the men grabbed the young child out of her arms.
"This one, boss?" he asked as he held the crying toddler up.
A large man shook his head.
"Too young. We'd have to take care of it," the boss said.
In an appalling act of cruelty, the man pulled out his gun and aimed it the young child.
"No!" the young Tasha shouted as she charged at the man.
Another one of the men grabbed her and pulled her off of his colleague.
Q looked at Tasha for a reaction, but she remained motionless seated on the ground.
"That boy will do," the boss said as he eyed the young Tasha struggling to break free.
"She's not a boy," the man said as he felt her.
Tasha remembered that dry season well.
With scrawny frames and dirty clothes, it was easy for most kids to pass as boys – until they couldn't.
She'd tried hard to hide any sense of femininity in an effort to pass as a boy.
It was safer.
"A bit gangly. Probably not even worth half her weight in latinum," the boss said as sized her up.
He stepped forward and gripped her chin, forcing her head back and forth as he looked her over.
"Clean her up," he instructed. "We'll break her in."
The child Tasha bit the arm of the man that was holding her.
She bit hard enough to draw blood.
He howled in pain and released her.
Before any of them knew what was happening, Tasha had managed to grab the side arm of one of the men.
Without a moment's hesitation, she took aim and fired - taking out one of the men and putting three rounds into the boss.
"Murphy's going to have our heads," one of the remaining men cried.
Tasha took aim at another one of the men and fired another round, hitting him square in the chest.
He slumped back against the wall.
The other two jumped into one of the vehicles and took off running.
The eleven-year-old Tasha sniffled and dropped to her knees. The toddler she'd saved waddled back toward her and Tasha pulled the child into an embrace.
The crew were at a loss for words – including Deanna.
It was no secret Turkana wasn't an easy place to grow up. They knew enough about Tasha to know she'd experience a traumatic childhood.
But this was far beyond what any of them had imagined.
"You went through all that to save a child that would die in a week," Q said, taunting her.
Tasha took a deep breath as she tried to maintain her composure.
"With the power of the Q you could save them. All of them," Q said as he dangled her weakness in front of her.
"You already have the power of the Q. Where were you? You could have turned the bullets into snowflakes. Ended the war. Stopped the famine," Tasha said in a low voice. "But you didn't. You let us suffer and die because it amuses you."
Tasha stood up and turned to Q.
"You could save everyone on the pathetic little backwater of your birth," Q replied. "Even yourself."
Tasha's breathing stopped as the setting changed.
They were underground in a cave.
Not just any cave, the cave.
The torchlight danced off the cave walls as the two different parties closed in on her.
She was older now, almost 15.
"Now run," Tasha ordered as she kissed her cat Speckle goodbye. "This isn't a safe place at all."
She knew it was too late, the gang that had been trailing them had spotted her.
Tasha watched as her younger self drew her knife and took up a defensive stance as the gang closed in around her.
Her younger self wasn't going down without a fight, and Tasha reasoned she couldn't either.
She couldn't let Data see this, ever.
"What is your endgame?" Tasha asked as she looked to Q. "Why would you want to give us your powers?"
"As I said, this little game is to find out who among you is ready to accept-" Q started to explain but Tasha cut him off.
"Liar. It amuses you to watch us suffer, doesn't it?" she hissed.
"Lieutenant! Stand down," Riker ordered.
A moment later, the scene froze as if Q was distracted by her outburst and lacked the ability to maintain concentration.
"You want to know why I don't like you?" Tasha said heatedly. "It's because despite all your power and knowledge, you lack the compassion to act."
"Lieutenant!" Riker commanded urgently.
He could see she was getting on Q's nerves.
"Because for all your power and knowledge you're bored. You could do anything you want in the universe. Hell you could wipe us out with a thought. But you don't," Tasha went on. "You keep us around because we entertain you. We're unpredictable. And you crave that."
"Tasha," Data said in a cautionary voice.
Data stepped forward and put his hands on Tasha's shoulders.
She shook him off.
"You think we're suffering and dying? Yes, we are," she admitted. "But I think deep down you're the one that's miserable. It must be lonely being an all-powerful being."
"It is not our policy to interfere," Q replied dismissively.
"But you already are. Right now," Tasha argued. "And if it's not your policy to interfere, then why are you here encouraging all of us to interfere in the timeline, huh? Is this really the will of your continuum or simply the whim of a lonely man?"
Data had to admit, she had a point.
"Game penalty!" Q said suddenly as he pointed to Tasha.
She vanished.
Deanna tried to use her empathic skills to detect her friend, but she was gone.
"Where is she, Q!" Riker demanded. "You can forget your game if-"
Q snapped his fingers together and the group found themselves back at the tent on the rocky planet where they had started.
He sighed and sat back in his chair.
"To use a twentieth century term, she's in a penalty box," Q informed them. "Where she will remain unharmed unless one of you merits a penalty."
He looked away.
"Unfortunately, there is only one penalty box," he said in a lazy drawl. "If any of you should be sent there, well, then dear Tasha must give the box up to you."
Data felt like his cooling system skipped a beat as he was momentarily stung by Q's insinuation.
He had more questions than he could rationally prioritise to ask first.
Was it death?
Data's neural net was overwhelmed with a sense of emptiness at the thought of never seeing Tasha again.
If Q were to indeed make her vanish from the universe, Data was certain that he would experience a profound loss unlikely any he had ever known before.
Although he had a perfect memory and had catalogued every moment of their time together, he was afraid the memory of it would never be enough to fill the void of her absence.
Geordi looked over to Data and could see he was struggling – his eyes flitting back and forth rapidly as his system grappled to process both his thoughts and his emotions.
"And just where does Tasha go?" Geordi asked on Data's behalf.
"I'm afraid," Q teased slowly as he drew out the reveal to exploit their fear. "Into nothingness."
Beverly put her hand on Data's arm in what she hoped was a comforting manner.
Deanna felt a chill run down her spine.
Worf's blood was boiling.
Commander Riker felt like he'd failed the team in accepting Q's offer.
Geordi was trying to formulate a plan. It was clear Commander Riker was struggling – after all, he had been enticed by Q. And Data was emotionally compromised. He couldn't rely on his best friend's vast knowledge base and processing capabilities to get them out of this one.
No, Geordi had to think of something.
"Geordi?" Data said, his voice tainted with a hint of worry belying just how frightened he was.
-----------
Back on the Bridge, Captain Picard found himself alone.
After attempting to reach the Security Office and Main Engineering with no success, he reasoned he was entirely alone on the ship.
The turbolift doors weren't working. He couldn't access his Ready Room.
Even the controls appeared to be inoperable and unresponsive.
"Computer, Captain's log," he said.
At the very least, he could keep a log of the events. It would be essential to keeping track of time and hopefully serve to calm his nerves.
"Captain's log," the computer responded in a distorted tone.
"Damn it!" Picard said as he slammed his hand down on the operations panel. "I can't even make a log entry."
"I wish I could help you, Captain," Tasha said from the back of the Bridge.
Picard glanced up and was relieved to see one of his crew safe and sound.
"Where is everyone else?" Picard asked.
"Down on some planet. At least, I think it's a planet," she explained.
She didn't need to say more. Picard understood.
With Q there was no telling if it really was a planet in existence or merely a world conjured for his game.
"Right," Picard said with a short nod. "I'll get on the conn, can you take inventory on our tactical position. I want to know what systems we've got. Our position. You know the drill."
Captain Picard stepped over to the helm.
Tasha made for her usual position at tactical.
As soon as her fingers made contact with the screen there was a large electrical spark, and she was hurled back against science station two.
Captain Picard rushed up the ramp where he found her slumped against the floor.
She was clearly in pain, but thankfully alive and conscious.
"Lieutenant, are you alright?" he asked as he offered her his hand.
As soon as she gripped his hand she clenched her teeth, pulling her hand back and breathing heavily.
"Tasha?" Captain Picard asked, concerned.
"Q's penalty box," she muttered before she bit her fist.
"Penalty box?" Picard questioned.
Tasha nodded.
He offered his hand again.
Tasha looked at it and then back to him before shaking her head.
No, it was evident she wasn't meant to touch or interact with anything or anyone.
"Q's penalty box," she repeated.
She started to pull herself to her feet. Momentarily forgetting, she tried to steady herself with the science console.
"Ahh, damn it," she hissed as another shock rippled through her body at the contact.
Enraged, she got to her feet on her own.
"It sounds strange, but I'm in a penalty box," she explained, trying desperately to keep her composure. "It's Q's penalty box. And I know that one more penalty – by anyone – and I'm gone."
Picard tried to grasp the meaning of her statement.
She couldn't mean...?
"Gone?" the Captain asked hesitantly.
"Yes, I'm gone," she said exasperated. "And yes, that means exactly what you think it does, sir."
She turned away as she shook her hand to try and regain feeling in it.
"It's so frustrating to be controlled like this," she confessed.
She turned back to Captain Picard.
"I lost my temper with Q. I'm sorry, sir," she said apologetically.
She'd let them down – her team, her friends, and the Captain.
She should have listened to Riker's orders.
And Data.
Data.
The weight of the last few weeks settled on her.
It had been one thing to face the prospect of being reassigned to another posting and having to live apart.
It was a total other matter to consider the smallest of mistakes would mean being apart forever.
Tasha closed her eyes as she felt herself start to cry.
"Lieutenant?" "Picard said tentatively. "Tasha?"
He wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to reassure her, to be a shoulder to cry on.
But he knew he couldn't reach out.
"It's all right, Tasha," Picard said gently.
"I'm sorry, sir," she sniffled as she tried to compose herself.
"There's no need to apologise," he assured her.
"I just....this morning my biggest fear was the fact that I might have to leave you all," she admitted. "Leave my friends, the job I love."
She swallowed hard.
"The people I love," she said softly.
She ran her hand back through her hair and scratched the back of her neck.
"Now, the slightest misstep and I really will be gone. Forever," she snorted at the sick irony of it all. "And I think what scares me the most is the last memory Data's going to have is that he tried to stop me and I brushed him off."
She shook her head as she laughed bitterly.
"If only I'd listened. Kept my bloody mouth shut," she acknowledged cynically.
Data had certainly warned her on plenty of occasions.
'You are not invulnerable.'
'Sometimes I think you fail to grasp the fragile nature of your biological composition.'
'I worry your inclination to throw yourself into danger could lead to you getting hurt.'
'Tasha, you either do not fully grasp that you are not indestructible, or, as I suspect is more likely the case, you do not care. And that terrifies me.'
"He's always reminding me that I'm not immortal," Tasha said sadly. "I never listen."
Captain Picard wasn't sure how to respond.
He suspected it was a source of tension between the Second Officer and Security Chief.
He could see just how deeply bothered she was by it.
And he knew first-hand why she felt that way.
Because he'd been the same way as a young man. Confident and willing to charge headfirst into any situation. He'd never told her about the circumstances surrounding his artificial heart, but he considered it might be time – once this was over.
"Tasha, what did you do to Q?" Picard asked curiously.
To his great surprise, she chuckled.
"I told him I think he's lonely," she laughed. "And that he does all of this just to entertain himself."
She couldn't help it. Despite the tears, Tasha was overcome with laughter.
It was contagious.
Captain Picard grinned and began to laugh too.
"I'm sorry," he snorted as he was unable to control his amusement.
Tasha shrugged casually.
She wasn't bothered by it.
'Laugh or cry' she always said.
"Uh, I knew I shouldn't have put you two together," Q snarled as he appeared on the Bridge.
Suddenly, the laughter stopped.
"Consorting with lower rank females, Captain?" Q said as he approached Jean-Luc. "Especially ones in penalty boxes? Destructive for discipline, they say. But then again, you're only human."
Q threw his head to the side dramatically as he pushed Picard aside.
"And you," Q said as he closed in on her. "Don't you realise the perilous position in which you find yourself, Natasha?"
Tasha crossed her arms.
"I told you, the answer is no," she said calmly. "I'm not playing your game."
"Fine. Penalty over," he muttered.
Q fell back against the science console, fidgeting with his hands.
"I'm sorry," Q said suddenly to Tasha.
Q looked away.
"I wouldn't have really done it," he confessed.
Tasha felt a strange sense of satisfaction.
It confirmed her suspicion that Q really found pleasure in watching them.
The whole affair truly had been nothing more than a game designed to observe their reactions.
"What do you mean you wouldn't have really done it?" Picard questioned. "Are you saying this was all an empty threat? Q?"
Q heaved a heavy sigh as he pushed himself off the console. He placed his head on Captain Picard's shoulder.
"I wasn't going to hurt your crew," he said. "As much as I hate to admit it, you've really grown on me, Jean-Luc."
"Then why are you delaying us from this rescue mission?" Picard demanded. "People will die!"
Q stepped back and shrugged.
"Maybe I just like to dangle the prospect of danger in front of you to study you," Q said as he snapped his fingers.
Tasha gasped as she felt Q's hand gripping the back of her uniform.
Where they had once been standing on the edge of the Bridge, they now found themselves on the edge of the Ghuogron Cliffs overlooking the waves of that world's ocean hundreds of metres below.
"Oh," Q said curtly as he looked at Tasha. "I forgot you're not playing."
He let go and she closed her eyes as she felt herself enter freefall.
And then suddenly, she stopped – hitting the floor of the Bridge with an uncomfortable thump.
She wanted to react.
Remembering Data's numerous warnings – and how horrible she felt for disregarding them – Tasha bit her tongue.
"Where are my crew?" Picard queried. "And how does this incessant game end?"
Q turned back to Picard and tapped him on the nose.
"Oh, mon Capitan," he teased. "You've already lost."
In a burst of light, he was gone.
-----------
Back down on the mysterious planet, it was as if time had never passed.
Q was still seated outside of his tent.
"Now, a game should be imaginative. Shall it be a test of strength? Meaningless, since you have none," Q said mocking them. "A test of intelligence, then?"
He began to laugh.
"Equally as meaningless," he added, charmed by the thought.
He locked his eyes on Riker.
"But it needs risk, something to win and something to lose," Q said deviously. "Which, of course, requires something totally disastrous to lose."
The group looked at each other nervously. No one liked the sound of Q's proposal.
Q brought his hands together in front of his face as he looked like he was in deep thought.
"Now, the point of this game shall be," he said slowly. "Can any of you stay alive?"
A dark look passed between Geordi and Data.
"If your game is fair, we will," Worf replied.
"Oh, for shame, Worf! Fairness is such a human concept. Think imaginatively!" Q cried excitedly. "This game shall, in fact, be completely unfair!"
In the blink of an eye, Q and his tent were gone.
The team found themselves alone on the strange world.
Worf checked his side to ensure he still had his phaser.
"Commander?" Geordi prompted as he turned to Riker. "Commander, what are your orders?"
Riker glanced around.
They knew so little about their location, it was difficult to plan what Q might have in store.
He decided splitting up would be best.
Riker ordered Worf to take one direction. Doctor Crusher would take another. Riker sent Data off in the third direction and he'd take the fourth himself. He ordered Deanna and Geordi to stay put.
"You're our best eyes Geordi," Riker said. "Get up on that rock formation and scan the area for anything – any signs of what may be coming."
He paused.
"Hell, check for everything. Supplies, food, fresh water, a safe spot for camp," Riker added. "Who knows how long this game may last."
"Yes, sir," Geordi said brightly.
"Deanna, try to re-establish contact with the Enterprise," Riker commanded.
She nodded and began to try and contact the ship – both through her combadge and telepathically.
-----------
Back on the ship, Jean-Luc had been trying to formulate a plan with Lieutenant Yar when he found himself transported to his Ready Room.
Q was sitting in his chair with his feet on Picard's desk.
"Listen to me, Q. You seem to have some need for humans," Picard said.
If he could figure out what Q wanted, then perhaps they could be on their way.
He suspected Lieutenant Yar's theory was right on the nose.
They had no idea how old Q was nor how long he had existed as an all-powerful being. They knew very little about this being and even less about its continuum.
Jean-Luc theorised it was possible that after a while an almighty being with the ability to suspend time, bend space, and see to his every whim may grow bored with such an existence.
"Whatever it is, why do you demonstrate it through this confrontation? Why not a simple, direct explanation, a statement of what you seek?" Picard asked, trying to understand. "Why these games?"
"Why these games?" Q asked as he dropped his feet. "Play's the thing, Jean-Luc! And I'm surprised you have to ask when your human Shakespeare explained it all so well."
On the one hand, Picard was surprised to hear Q mention Shakespeare.
Although, on the other hand it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that such a being would possess the knowledge of the playwright.
"So he did," Picard acknowledged. "But don't depend too much on any single viewpoint."
"It's a pity you don't know the content of your own library," Q said as he sat up. "Hear this, Picard, and reflect. All the galaxy's a stage!"
Q smiled, proud of himself for teasing Picard with his own favourite playwright.
"World, not galaxy," Picard replied, annoyed. "All the world's a stage.
"Oh, you know that one," Q said unpleasantly. "Well, if he were living now, he would have said galaxy."
Q got to his feet and looked out the window.
Picard was doing his best to remain patient. He knew it wouldn't do any good to upset such a powerful being.
"How about this one, then?" Q asked as he spun around. "Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is here no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
Q didn't state it outright, but Picard caught the meaning.
Tasha's theory was, in fact, correct.
"I see," Jean-Luc nodded. "How we respond to a game tells you more about us than our real life, this tale told by an idiot? Interesting, Q."
"Oh, thank you very much. I'm glad you enjoy it," Q grinned as he clasped his hands together.
Q sat on top of Picard's desk.
"And what a tale it's been. I haven't had this much fun in over three-hundred years," Q told him. "It's like watching a great drama unfold before my eyes. The lone warrior on a quest to find his place in the universe. Loyal and unyielding, yet complicated and brooding. The brilliant engineer – a true romantic – yet so unlucky in love that he can fix any problem but his own loneliness."
As much as he was disturbed by the idea that Q was observing them, he kept his calm demeanour.
"The impressive Commander Riker and compassionate Counsellor find themselves thrown together after years apart leaving everyone to ask, will they? Or won't they?" Q said dramatically as he laid back on the desk and threw his arm over his head.
Q sat back up enthusiastically.
"The loveable android who somehow managed to woo the warrior. It's really quite sweet, Jean-Luc," Q teased. "I don't know if I can bear the anticipation of this hearing."
Q bit his fist in mock agony.
Picard looked at Q curiously, slightly perturbed that he knew – and seemed interested – in the fate of his Second Officer and Security Chief's disciplinary hearing.
Q jumped up.
"And all under the command of the impressive Jean-Luc Picard. A man so bound by custom and tradition, duty and honour, regulation and pride, that he's stuck like an insect in amber. Incapable of pursuing the woman he's loved for twenty years," Q said as locked eyes with the Captain. "The only woman who's ever left you simultaneously so utterly frustrated and undeniably aroused. A woman that's truly an equal to your tenacity and curiosity."
Jean-Luc felt Q was staring into his soul.
"Afraid to take any action," Q went on. "But what I have yet to figure out is whether you remain stuck because you truly feel it's a forbidden romance or because you can't bear to part with the idea of your freedom. Frightened by the idea of losing out on the adventure of discovery. Stagnation terrifies you and yet, also defines you."
Picard decided to take a gamble.
"And what he might say with irony, I say with conviction," he cited from memory. "What a piece of work is man. How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty. In form, in moving, how express and admirable. In action, how like an angel. In apprehension, how like a god."
Q grinned as he gripped the Captain's shoulders.
"Oh Jean-Luc," Q said. "You grow beyond the confines of your time, unmatched in your leadership, travelling the road of your finite understanding of this universe, and emerging ahead of your accomplishments."
Jean-Luc hoped – desperately – that he had managed to endear himself to this strange supreme being.