Fic: Everything Was Beautiful; Nothing Hurt, Chapter 12
Title: Everything Was Beautiful; Nothing Hurt... or Even More Kin and Even Less Kind
Chapter Title: Chapter 12: bbQ
Author: katiemariie
Artist: tprillahfiction
Fanmixer: civilbloodshed
Beta(s): subluxate and avsioss
Link to Art: Art
Link to Mix: Fanmix
Word Count: 7.1k
“Go along, son.”
They thought he couldn’t hear them, even when they whispered, “Quiet! Do you want to wake him?” He sunk to the floor, running this new body along the mirror.
“Something must be done.”
“It is not our place.”
He covered his ears with his fists.
“The timeline has been irreparably damaged. We cannot allow lower beings to craft universes at their will.”
“They did not choose to alter the timeline; it was a mistake.”
“So we must correct it.”
“To do so would upset the delicate balance-”
“The balance is already upset. Corporeality-worse, Humanity-has never soared higher. They’ve killed one of our kind, taken control of one of our prisons. If we do not do something to limit their progress, who will?”
“You know who.”
“You know as well as I do that we cannot depend on that.”
“Given time-”
“We cannot afford to wait!”
“The Listeners are maneuvering themselves to guide-”
“Since when we do we rely on the Listeners to course correct-”
“We are not to meddle in the affairs of mortals. You sound like him.”
“I am nothing like him. I don’t do this for my own amusement. I only want to protect them from themselves.”
The shouting stopped then, but he could feel them through the mirror, building entire universes of slow-burning resentment.
-
“Why does Saavik get a party and presents, and I do not?” Valeris pouted, standing on Sarek's lap.
“Under Human tradition, one receives presents at a party on the anniversary of the day of one's birth. Today is Saavik's birthday. Your birthday will come in a month's time.”
“That's not fair. Why do I have to wait a month?”
“Life is not fair. I do not doubt that Saavik will ask me at your birthday party why she should wait eleven months for her birthday.”
Across Geoff and Spock’s living room, Charlie reasoned with his parents. “If you won’t let me make Valkrell think Worf doesn’t have any legs, would you at least let me fix his paralysis?”
“No,” McCoy said. “Absolutely not.”
“Why? What’s the point in me having all these bitchin’ powers if I can’t help anyone?”
“They’ll take you away,” Sybok said harshly.
“No one’s going to take me-”
“Fine. You want to give your friends miracle cures? Go ahead. Just remember what happened to the last Human who went around healing people with his magical powers. He got arrested and was put up on giant wooden T until he died. And then little bunnies and baby chickens picked at his corpse.”
McCoy shook his head incredulously. “Jesus wasn’t eaten by bunny rabbits.”
“Then how did the Easter Bunny get his powers?”
“The Easter Bunny isn’t real!”
Data looked up from the coloring book he was sharing with Ainsley, his eyes round like Bambi’s. “The Easter Bunny is not real?”
“How old are you supposed to be?”
“The Easter Bunny isn’t going to hunt me down if I help out Worf,” Charlie protested. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying so much.” And with that Charlie disappeared.
Data blinked. “Where did he go?”
“I did not know Charlie could teleport himself,” Sarek said.
“Neither did I,” McCoy said. “What’s wrong?”
Sybok’s breath caught in his chest. “I can’t feel him. I can’t feel Charlie’s mind at all. He’s still alive, but I can’t feel him.”
“Nyota!” T’Pring yelled, careening out of the kitchen. “Where is she?”
“She went into the bathroom approximately two minutes ago,” Data answered.
T’Pring ran across the living room to the bathroom door, where she deftly hacked the lock open. There was no one inside. “She is gone. How could she have gotten out of my telepathic range so quickly?”
“Charlie just teleported out. Maybe he took her with him,” McCoy said.
“Charlie wouldn't teleport,” Sybok said. “He's just as afraid of transporters as you are.”
“Perhaps they have been rendered invisible,” Data offered. “Mother, if you can hear me, flicker the light switch.”
To everyone's surprise, the lights dimmed. Then Geoff came out of the kitchen, carrying a cake with three candles. His parents and both Spocks followed close behind, singing, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday...”
“What's wrong?” Geoff asked. “Why isn't anyone singing?”
From her birthday throne-really, just a normal table chair with balloons and streamers-Saavik pronounced, “Charlie and Aunt Nyota went poof.”
“Poof?” Spock repeated.
“Affirmative. Poof.”
Spock's comm chimed. “Spock here. I see. Spock out.” He placed his communicator back on his belt loop. “Citizens in the Western hemispheric settlements are reporting a solar eclipse.”
“That is impossible,” Sarek said. “The planet does not have any satellites.”
“It would seem then that Gary Mitchell and Elizabeth Dehner went 'poof,' as well.”
“They kidnapped them!” McCoy exclaimed. “Those two blue balls of light kidnapped Charlie and Uhura!”
-
One moment she was helping Worf calm his nerves through a friendly wheelchair kivitlra match, and the next she was standing beside Charlie in an old Terran dining hall. She fixed her posture into a more strategic position, guarding Charlie with her dagger. “How did we come here?”
“I dunno, but it wasn't me... I don't think.”
“It was not our doing, either,” a strange, echoing voice said.
Elaan spun toward the sound, slashing her blade through the air. “Who speaks?”
“They Who Speak as One.” Two grey-haired figures-a man and a woman-stepped out from the shadows. “We have dulled our inner light so that we do not hurt you.” It was just the sun, then. Menials.
Uhura dropped down from the ceiling, sending the candelabra swinging. “Whatever brought us here has terrible aim.”
“We're going to miss cake,” Charlie sighed.
-
Sybok stuck his head between his knees, releasing a stuttering breath. “Charlie...”
“Why would they take him?” McCoy asked, biting his thumbnail. “Where did they take him?”
“I am not entirely convinced Dehner and Mitchell kidnapped Charles and Uhura,” Elder Spock said, setting down a cup of tea in front of T'Pring, whose hands were shaking furiously.
“You said they were not to be trusted,” T'Pring responded.
“They were. I have no reason to believe they are not trustworthy presently. And, if they retain much of their characteristics from my timeline, Gary Mitchell would never take such drastic action without an audience. Like any god, he lived to be worshipped and feared.”
“If he's got such a God complex,” McCoy started, “maybe he's out to get rid of the competition.”
“Then why I am still here?” Sybok asked, his voice muffled.
“Your hypothesis does not explain the Dohlman's disappearance either,” Elder Spock said.
Data walked out the kitchen, looking as forlorn as his limited facial expressions allowed. “She is not in the cupboards.”
“Sutorsu-kan,” T'Pring said, “come sit.” Data shuffled over to T'Pring and sat on the floor next to her chair, resting his head on her lap. “Data needs his mother.”
Sybok lifted his head. “I'll do what I can.” He gripped McCoy's wrist. “If I pass out, don't have a fit.”
“Why would you-” Sybok eyes closed as he slumped into McCoy. “Jesus. What the hell is he doing?”
“Glimpsing the universe,” Elder Spock said.
Sybok's shoulders began to shake violently, as if he was having a seizure, and his mouth foamed. After a moment, he stilled.
“Sybok.” McCoy cupped his cheek.
“'m fine.” He sat up, wiping his mouth. “He's not there. He's not anywhere.”
“Perhaps they were taken to another universe,” Data suggested.
Elder Spock shook his head. “Inter-dimensional travel produces the same sensation as the death of a bonded one. That is, if my experience arriving in this timeline can be extrapolated to similar situations.”
“The afterlife is just another dimension,” Sybok said. “Katric separation is what produces the pain. As long as the katra remains in the same dimension...”
“Then no pain,” McCoy finished.
“That would explain why my mother did not report any pain upon my death,” Elder Spock said. “My katra remained in that dimension, albeit within Dr. McCoy.”
“If that is true,” T'Pring said, “they could all be dead. Their murderers could have stored their katras in this universe.”
“That couldn't have happened. I'm the only one who can move katra like that,” Sybok said.
“Are you certain?”
“I just looked at the entire universe in all its glory, and there's no one else who could've done it. So, unless there's another me running around...”
“They're alive,” McCoy said.
“But I just can't see them. Data's right; they are invisible.”
-
“Where the hell are we?” Charlie muttered, warming his hand over a fireplace... that didn't give off any heat.
“Gothos.” A short Human dressed like Liberace appeared next to the fireplace. “I apologize for leaving you waiting.” He played with the lace on the cuffs of his shirt. “You must believe me, I am not usually so inhospitable to guests. I would have had my valet greet you, but just today I had to relieve Mr. Woolf of his duties. It is so difficult to find good help these days. Least of all on Gothos. Take a seat, why don't you.” He smiled.
“Who the fuck are you?” Elaan spat.
“Ah, yes, of course. How rude of me. General Trelane, retired.” He bowed with a flourish.
“In what military did you serve?”
He frowned, but quickly recovered. “Let us not speak of such grave matters. Do not think of me as a general, but as a simple squire of Gothos.”
For some reason, Charlie felt a curl of satisfaction when Trelane said those three words.
“Squire,” Uhura said patiently, “why did you bring us to fair Gothos?”
Trelane smiled nervously. “For dinner, of course. Come, sit. The first course is exquisite, I promise you.” The five captives-cum-dinner guests were suddenly seated at a large banquet table. “Very good.” Trelane sat at the head of the table.
“Will there be cake?” Charlie asked.
-
Geoff stood in front of a dry erase board, tapping a marker on his forehead.
“We should begin with which parties have negative relationships with Sha-Ka-Ree,” Spock suggested.
“Right.” He wrote “enemies” on the board. “Who would want to hurt us?”
“The Romulan Star Empire,” Keras said.
“Ek'tra, the rest of the Vulcan diaspora,” Spock said.
“The Klingon Empire,” Worf said.
“The Organians, Starfleet, the Elasians, the Troyians, the species of the planet's original inhabitant, the entirety of the Mirror universe.”
“The Ferengi, the Andorians, Social Darwinists, eugenicists, people who support the social construction of Deafness as a disability.”
“The cochlear implant lobby... the Platonians.”
Unable to keep up, Geoff stopped writing and turned toward Spock, Worf, and Keras. “Maybe we should focus on who could have done this.”
“The Organians,” Spock said. “They have both means and motive.”
“But not opportunity,” Worf said. “Uhura said they would have been unable to take Charlie if she hadn't let them through the defense screen.”
“They could have developed the means to penetrate the defense screen,” Keras suggested.
“That line of thinking is entirely unhelpful in narrowing down suspects. Feasibly, anyone could have developed that technology.”
“I don't think so,” M'Benga said. “If a god couldn't crack this planet's defense system, then who could?”
“Another god,” Keras said.
-
“There has to be something here,” T'Pring muttered, strewing Elaan's things all across her room.
“What do you think you're going to find?” McCoy said, leaning on the door frame, biting his nails. “A note saying, 'If I ever disappear out of thin air, it was Professor Plum with the candlestick in the study.'”
“You are truly an inferior species, if you would allow yourselves to be kidnapped by an academic with a candlestick.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Sarcasm is the last refuge of the powerless.”
“That's where I'm standing, then.”
T'Pring stopped her one-Vulcan tornado through Elaan's bedroom. “How peculiar.”
“You find something?”
She held up a single playing card. An ace of spades. “Tell her Sulu sent you,” she read. “I received a card similar to this from Lieutenant Keenser when I left the Enterprise. Perhaps this is a Starfleet trend I have not heard of.”
“No. I've... I know that card!” McCoy spun on his heel, and ran out of the room. T'Pring follow him out of her house, down the street, and into McCoy's living room. “It's here somewhere.” He rushed to the bookcase in the corner, and began to pull out Sybok's scrapbooks, checking the front of each one. “Here.” He decided on a book, then flipped through the pages. “Look.” He held up the scrapbook for T'Pring to see. Another ace of spades was glue to the page. “This is from our going away party on the Tresselian space station. Some bartender...” He ripped out the card, and read the back. “Some bartender named Guinan gave this to me. Said I was the most important person in the universe.”
“Guinan was obviously intoxicated.”
“I get a card, you get a card, Elaan gets a card. Don't you think this is a little suspicious?”
“Are you implying that Keenser, Hikaru Sulu, and a bartender named Guinan are conspiring in a plot against us?”
“Yes!”
“I believe I preferred your Professor Plum theory.”
-
“This food tastes like sawdust,” Elaan said, spitting a mouthful of cornish hen onto the floor.
There goes diplomacy, Uhura thought. Trying the direct route with impish, flamboyant aliens always worked so well. “Squire, please excuse Elaan. She's very tired. I think it would be best if we all went home.”
“No!” Trelane banged his fists on the table. “I'm not done with you yet.”
“Done doing what, exactly?”
Trelane threw his napkin on the table, and walked over to the mirror, staring into his own reflection. “I don't want to. If I had any choice in the matter, I would vote against it. The present situation has become uncomfortable. There is little else I can do.” He turned around, grinning. “That doesn't mean we cannot have a raucous good time beforehand.”
“Before...?”
“Before you die.”
“Fuck this. We're leaving.” Charlie rolled his eyes up into his head until there was almost nothing but white showing. “Ow.” His eyelids fluttered closed, and he massaged them gently. “I guess I can't teleport.”
Dehner and Mitchell joined hands, glowed bright blue for a while, then nothing.
“Your talents won't work on Gothos. I took the liberty of placing anti-witchcraft wards around the planet. You're fortunate that I am more tolerant than Mr. Matthew Hopkins.”
“So, you're not going to murder us?” Charlie asked.
“Murder is such an ugly word.”
“I hate you,” Elaan snarled. “You are a despicable little man.”
“For that, you will die first... Who's up for a round of reversis?”
-
With everyone reassembled in Spock and Geoff's living room, McCoy put his (and T'Pring's and Elaan's and Spock's) cards on the table for all to see. “Does this mean anything to you?” he asked Elder Spock, who shook his head.
“I have never seen playing cards used in this fashion in this or any universe. The name Guinan, however, is somewhat familiar. She was a bartender, you say?”
“Yeah. Average height, medium build, black, long dreadlocks... no eyebrows.”
“Human?”
“Looked like one.”
“Appearances can be deceiving.”
“Why do you have to say shit like that?”
“Have any of you tried contacting Sulu, Keenser, or Lester?” Geoff asked.
“No,” T'Pring said. “We should not attempt to make contact until we have enough information to gain the upper hand.”
“A Klingon does not rush into battle without studying his opponent,” Worf said.
The front door chimed. “Come. It's open,” Geoff yelled.
In stepped a woman-average height, medium build, black, long dreadlocks... no eyebrows. “Hi. I heard you could use some-” She glared down at Worf, who'd managed to put a bat'leth to her throat in roughly five seconds. Not his best time, but still impressive. “Put that away. You'll poke someone's eye out with that thing.”
“That was the plan,” Worf growled.
She looked over at T'Pring. “Could you please call him off?”
“Under normal circumstances, I would,” T'Pring said sharply. “How did you come to this planet's surface? Security stopped all incoming vessels and transports an hour ago.” Without Uhura on planet, there was no way to calibrate the defense screen to allow passage from the outside.
“I was on the last shuttlecraft in.” She smirked at Worf. “Sat next to a lovely Klingon girl. She wouldn't stop talking about meeting a boy she met online.”
“I am not a boy!”
“That's not the only thing you're not.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my son?” McCoy demanded.
“Me? I'm Guinan. I tend bar. As for your son, I didn't have any part in his disappearance.”
“Do you know who did?”
“No.”
“Then why the fuck are you here?” Sybok shouted.
“I'm here to help.”
“Why? We don't even know you.”
“Yes,” Elder Spock said, “but she knows us. Why did you give Dr. McCoy a playing card with your name on it?”
“I told him.” Guinan grinned enigmatically. “He's the most important person in the universe.”
“Bullshit.”
“Dr. McCoy is hardly the most important person in this room,” Sarek protested. “He is not a head of state, he has never brokered any major peace treaties or cured any fatal diseases. He has not saved a Federation planet from annihilation. He has no supernatural talents to speak of, and, from what I gather from Sybok, he can barely feed himself.”
“Thanks, Dad,” McCoy snarled.
“That's precisely why Dr. McCoy is so important; he's an average, unimportant person who just happened to be in the right place at the right time and ended up altering the course of history,” Guinan said.
“I am not Forrest Gump!”
“Really? Who snuck Jim Kirk aboard the Enterprise? If you hadn't done that, Earth would've been destroyed and everyone in this room, except for me and Worf, would be dead.”
“That was one time.”
“Okay. If you hadn't insisted that someone go along with Sybok to investigate this planet, Uhura never would have received her current power and the planet wouldn't have been colonized. And if that never happened, Worf would be dead, Elaan would be some Troyian's child bride, and the T'Pelih would still be living in isolated poverty on Ek'tra. And even if Uhura would have gone without your influence, Dr. Chapel wouldn't have been there to treat Uhura and prevent Elder Spock from killing her if you hadn't driven Chapel to quit. Going even further back, you encouraging Uhura to pursue T'Pring set this entire chain of events in motion. And I think everyone in this room would agree that, if it weren't for your influence, Sybok would have gone mad years ago. The same with Charlie. And because of that, Elizabeth Dehner and Gary Mitchell are still alive and haven't murdered anyone.
“You're important, Dr. McCoy. Whether you like it or not.”
“How do you know all that? Half of those things aren't public record. Hell, some of them I don't remember.”
“I come from a race of listeners.”
“For a listener,” T'Pring said, “you are prone to monologues.”
“We're active listeners.”
-
Having grown bored with reversis (and finding that none of his guests knew how to play), Trelane herded everyone outside for a bowls match. “You see, you roll the ball like so, trying to get it as close to the jack as possible. Monsieur Mitchell and Mademoiselle Dehner, you will play on my team. As my guest, Monsieur Evans may go first.”
“Thanks,” Charlie mumbled, stepping up to the mat.
On the sidelines, Elaan edged closer to Uhura. “How might we escape from this creature?” she whispered.
“I don't know,” Uhura responded. “But I'm working on it.”
“Should I kill him?” Elaan palmed the dagger in her pocket.
“Not yet. He might be our only shot at getting home.”
“You are unable to contact the Matriarch telepathically.”
“No. I can't even feel her. Charlie might have better luck with Sybok.”
Elaan shook her head. “If Sybok could reach this place telepathically, then he would be here by now. There must be some sort of field around the planet.”
“We're on our own, then.”
“Do you still have access to your powers?”
“Yeah, I can manipulate Sha-Ka-Ree from here, but I don't know what good that will do us.”
“Perhaps you could send security on Sha-Ka-Ree a message. Write something in flora that would help them discover where we are.”
“That's actually a brilliant idea.” Uhura closed her eyes and began to write...
“No!” Trelane cried, throwing his bowl to the ground. “You can't escape. I won't let you.” He waved his hand, and Uhura felt her control over the flora snap. “There. Now you have to stay and play.”
-
“I've received a transmission from planetary security,” Spock said, returning his comm to his belt. “A small outgrowth of trees have appeared in a pattern that suggest Uhura is attempting to send us a message.”
“What is written?” T'Pring asked.
“'Hip hip hoorah.' And I believe it's pronounced 'tally ho.'”
“She must be under the effects of some kind of hallucinogen.”
“No,” Elder Spock said. “I remember those words. In my timeline, there was an alien named Trelane. He sent a transmission to the Enterprise with those exact words. He would have the power to abduct Lieutenant Uhura, Charles, Dehner, and Mitchell.”
“Do you remember where we could find Trelane?” McCoy asked.
“Yes. He lived on a planet named Gothos.”
“Good,” Sybok said. “Let's go to Gothos.”
“That will not be so simple. I recall the general area in which we found Gothos, but Trelane can move Gothos through space as if it were a starship. The planet could be anywhere.”
“Thanks, Spock,” McCoy grumbled. “We're about as close to finding them now as were were five minutes ago.”
“Hold on,” Guinan said. “This Trelane, do you know what species he was?”
Elder Spock shook his head. “He was not life as we know it. He was one of many god-like aliens we met on the five-year mission, but, unlike the rest, my Kirk was unable to defeat him.”
“What do you mean by god-like? What type of powers did he have?”
“He could build planets, conjure matter, transport matter, grant knowledge. He was able to observe Terra from Gothos, but only images from the distant past.”
Guinan furrowed her brow. “How old was he?”
“He had the appearance of a Human in his mid-thirties, but Captain Kirk believed he was a child.”
“On Gothos, was there some reflective object that he seemed drawn to? A mirror, maybe.”
“Yes, he had a mirror.”
“Shit,” Guinan muttered.
“What?” McCoy asked.
“This Trelane sounds like he's a young member of the Q Continuum.” At everyone's blank faces, she went on. “They're the closest thing the universe has to a pantheon. They're gods, and what's worse they know it. My people have had dealings with them in the past, and it wasn't pretty.”
“So, we're fucked then?” Sybok asked.
“Not entirely. My species and theirs co-evolved, so we're able to sense their presence. If Elder Spock can bring us close enough to Gothos, I should be able to pinpoint its location.”
“And then what?” McCoy asked. “How do we kill a god?”
Guinan stared meaningfully at Sybok. “We don't. I can hold Trelane off long enough for everyone to escape.”
“You would then be stuck with Trelane on Gothos,” Sarek said.
“Hopefully, I should be able to convince him to send me back home. Members of the Continuum and my kind can't stand to be in the same room for too long.”
“What would stop him from simply killing you?” Worf asked.
“Our peoples can't kill each other. We're stuck sharing the universe for the rest of eternity.”
-
“My people have a game like this,” Elaan said, picking up her croquet mallet. “Except we use these to hit each other over the head instead of those obnoxious balls.”
“I wish I could hit him over the head,” Charlie mumbled.
-
Despite his best attempts to avoid her, Valkrell found Worf gathering up his weapons at the dojo. “Worf.”
“Valkrell. I did not expect to see you. If I had, I would not have worn my prostheses.”
“I understand. I heard two of your comrades have been kidnapped.”
“Yes. By my honor, I must rescue them. I will not be able to keep our date.”
“That's fine. I will fight at your side. A comrade of yours is a comrade of mine.”
-
“Data is not accompanying us,” T'Pring said sternly. “I will not allow it. This mission is far too dangerous.”
“That is precisely why he needs to come with us,” Elder Spock said. “If I die or become incapacitated, there must be someone on board who can pilot the Squid.”
“Magda Kovac knows how to pilot the vessel. Why not take her?”
Elder Spock frowned. “You have not spoken to Spock about what he and Dr. M'Benga plan to do while we are away.”
“No. I assumed they would be watching the children, including Data.”
“I think it is best that you speak to him directly about this matter.”
-
Spock straightened his blouse. “If Nyota dies-”
“She will not die,” T'Pring said.
“The possibility of her demise exists and if it comes to fruition, the planet will choose another being to fulfill Nyota's role. Geoffrey and I have determined that the likelihood of the person selected surviving the process is greatest when that person is as physiologically similar to Nyota when she was turned into a cyborg. As the only Human females near Nyota's age and physical condition, Carol Marcus and Magda Kovac must stay on planet, near the site where the planet abducted Nyota, in case the worst happens.”
“Why do you need two?”
“In case the first one dies in the process.”
“What about Dr. Chapel? Why can she not stay and Magda Kovac come on the Squid?”
“Dr. Chapel is Nyota's physician. If Nyota is injured, she is the only person with sufficient knowledge about cybernetics to heal her.”
T'Pring steadied her breathing. “I will not lose them both on the same day. Data may accompany us, but I would sooner die than let harm befall him.”
-
Sybok gazed out the Squid's starboard window. “Is it wrong that I love Charlie more than I love you?”
“No,” McCoy said. “That's normal.”
“Good.”
“If it came down to it, I'd let you die to save Charlie.”
“Me, too.”
-
Fortunately, the default state of the shields surrounding Sha-Ka-Ree allowed vessels out but not in. The reasoning behind this was much like that of emergency exit only doors in public buildings. They didn't want anyone getting trapped on-planet if some bad shit went down. The Squid was able to leave the planet and head on its not-so-merry way to where Elder Spock remembered Gothos to be. A few minutes after take-off, the ship was hailed by a small, but remarkably fast, vessel.
“Should I raise our shields?” Data asked Elder Spock.
“No,” Guinan said. “That's our back-up.” Three figures in Starfleet uniform beamed onto the middle of the bridge. “I believe you all know Captain Sulu and Lieutenant Keenser.”
Sulu waved with his katana. “Hey.”
“This,” Guinan pointed to the pale woman in command yellow, “is Number One. She's the one who came up with playing card idea.”
“I thought you would be less likely to discard our contact information if it were written on a playing card rather than a piece of paper,” Number One said.
“I realize maintain an aura of mystery is important to your self-image,” T'Pring said, “but would you be too terribly inconvenienced by informing us who you are, what you want, and why you contacted us?”
Guinan smirked. “Are you sure you want to know? It's a very long and complicated story.”
“We have time.”
Guinan rested her elbows on her knees. “In the late 20th century of the Terran calendar, a new universe was created.”
“Whales?” Sybok asked.
“Whales.”
“If a new universe was created by my incursion in to 1983, why did we return to an unchanged 22nd century?” Elder Spock asked.
“You've heard of the grandfather paradox? You can't go back in time and kill your grandfather, because you would have never been born. If you have never been born, you couldn't go back in time to kill your grandfather. That's not strictly true. You can kill your grandfather in the past, but it has extreme consequences. Time compensates by creating a universe splintered off from the moment you killed your grandfather. You can stay in that new universe, while your home universe continues on. That's what happened when you and your friends kidnapped those whales. You went back to your home universe, which was entirely unaffected by your incursion into the past. And when your vessel and the Narada came through that black hole, you weren't just transported into the past. You were transported into the past in a different universe.”
“And that caused another splinter universe?” Chapel asked.
“No; because the Spock and Nero that arrived in this universe are not our Spock and Nero, no paradox was created and no universe splintered off to compensate. Every act of time travel, no matter how devastating, does not automatically cause a new timeline. Time travel is a normal part of existence. You people only find it so strange because you've only recently been able to do it.”
McCoy sighed. “What does this have to do-”
“I'm getting there. I told you this was a long story. El-Aurian can sense the splintering off of universes. That's why they call us Listeners-we can hear when species like the Q meddle with the timeline. It's one hell of a shock to the nervous system. When he ran off with those whales, it threw me into labor.” Guinan smile fondly at Number One. “That's where she got the name. She was the first El-Aurian born in the new universe.”
Chapel looked between Guinan and Number One. “Your species didn't have external surrogacy at that time?”
“We did, but my husband at the time and I were able to conceive naturally.”
“You're her mother?” Sybok asked slowly.
“Yes.”
“How white was her father?”
Number One stared at Sybok beleagueredly. “Skin pigment is not transmitted in the same way across all species.”
“It's like when a blue flower and yellow flower cross-pollinate,” Guinan explained “Depending on the species of the flowers, their offspring can end up being green, blue and yellow, or either blue or yellow. We're the last type of flower.”
“So your people don't have races?” McCoy asked.
“We do,” Number One answered, “but they are based arbitrarily on the size of our kidneys rather than the pigmentation of our skin.”
“The more you know.”
“Our people have entrusted Number One with the well-being of this new timeline,” Guinan said carefully.
“Where have I heard that before?” McCoy snarked, glaring at Elder Spock.
“You're not getting this. We don't want things to be as they were. We want things to be as they should.”
“What gives you the right to decide what's best?”
“We are not deciding what's best,” Number One protested. “We're helping people be their best.”
“You sound like him,” Worf snorted, pointing at Sybok.
“This isn't pop psychology. This is what our people are born to do.”
“An entire species of Syboks. How do you function?”
“All right,” Guinan said. “Imagine you're playing chess. Your opponent has only made one move, but you can see hundreds of ways the game can turn out. To get the fastest victory, to lose the fewest pieces, you have to play the game so that the other player makes the moves you need. That's what it's like to live as El-Aurian. That's what we have to do.”
“So, in your minds,” Chapel said, “we're all pawns.”
“No!” Guinan sighed. “We're trying to make you fulfilled. Happy. Reach your full potential.”
“What if our full potential isn't good?” Sybok asked quietly.
“Then it's not your full potential.”
“Sulu,” McCoy asked, “how the hell did you get mixed up with these people?”
“Number One was working under Pike when he recruited me,” Sulu explained. “She said I could do more good than just by only working for Starfleet.”
“I can't believe it! This whole time you've been reporting to those weasels.”
“Those weasels,” Guinan interjected, “are are trying to help you get your child back.”
“I didn't come here to get yelled at,” Keenser said, scuffing hir boot on the deck. “If you don't want my help, I'll stay on Lester's ship.”
“How could you help us?” Valkrell asked. “You are the size of a large gourd.”
“Height is not as important as resilience.”
“Resilience?”
Keenser walked over to Valkrell and lifted up hir tunic. “Hit me.”
Ever the Klingon, Valkrell didn't need to be told twice. She punched Keenser's abdomen as hard as she could, but her fist bounced right off of hir skin, sending her arm backward into the back of her seat. “'atlhqam!” she hissed.
“It's the same up here.” Keenser tapped hir temple. “We can't be brainwashed; our brains just bounce right back.”
“Keenser's species is impervious to mind control,” Number One added.
“Then how did the Platonians control hir?” Sybok asked dubiously.
“That wasn't mind control,” McCoy said. “They were just moving our parts around like we were puppets. That was the worst part of it. We could still think, but we-”
Number One shushed him. “I can feel the Q.”
“So do I,” Guinan said. “He's that way.” She pointed vaguely to the left.
“Thirty-six mark fifty-eight,” Number One clarified.
“Setting a course now,” Elder Spock said. “Engage.”
-
Uhura was ready to shove a shuttlecock down Trelane's throat, when the Squid set down on the squire's manicured lawn. “Oh, thank god.” She threw down her racquet.
Trelane glared at the vessel imperiously. “You were not invited.” A woman with no eyebrows and another in command gold stepped out of the ship, their hands held in front of them like claws. “No! No, no, no!” Trelane dropped to the ground, kicking his legs in the air. “I didn't say you could play!” He looked almost like Valeris this morning when she realized she wasn't going to get any presents.
“Get in the ship,” the older woman ordered.
Trelane's prisoners-cum-playmates trudged off toward the ship. Not content to let them go, Trelane grabbed hold of Charlie's arm. “Don't leave. Not before I kill you. I can do it, I swear.” Trelane scrunched up his face, and Charlie was engulfed in a yellow light.
“Charlie!” Sybok rushed headlong out of the Squid. His eyes narrowed as they focused on Trelane. And, suddenly, there was no Trelane and Sybok was lying in a heap on the ground.
-
Amanda stared at him reproachfully as Trelane whimpered. “He's just a boy, Sybok.”
“He tried to kill my son.”
“I wouldn't've, I swear,” Trelane cried. “I wouldn't've. I wanna go home.”
Joanna stepped out from the mist. “Send him back. It's not his time.”
“He tried to kill my son.”
“This isn't a gift you should use for revenge.”
“What would Leonard think?” Amanda added.
Sybok resigned himself. “Fine.” When he came back to his body, there were two very distressed clouds pulsating over his head.
“What did you do to our son?” the female blob demanded.
“Only what comes naturally,” Guinan answered.
“Listeners,” the blob hissed.
“It's good to see you, too. The vapor look works for you.”
“Trelane,” the male blob scolded, “why are these people here?”
“I only wanted to play,” Trelane said. “Honest.”
“Bullshit!” Charlie yelled. “He said he was going to kill us.”
“Is that true?” the male blob asked.
“Maybe,” Trelane answered. “A little.”
“Why would you do such a thing? These beings have spirit; they're superior.”
“They're trouble! Mom said so.”
The male blob sighed. “See? This is what happens when you-”
“Don't blame me,” the female blob said. “I'm not the one-”
“-patronize higher-”
“-play the great peacekeeper-” The blobs' sniping turned into a cacophony that filled Gothos' atmosphere, threatening to burst the eardrums of every corporeal being on planet.
“See!” Trelane shouted, stamping his foot. “This is why I did it! They're bad; they make you fight all the time.”
The noise quelled. “We didn't think you could hear us,” the male blob said.
“Please.” Uhura rolled her eyes. “The kids can always hear their parents fighting. It doesn't matter if they're in Nairobi or Gothos.”
“Why would you guys fight about us?” Charlie asked. “We never even met you.”
The female blob struggled to put this delicately. “There is some controversy within the Continuum as to whether people with physical bodies should have the power that you and They Who Speak as One do. As for Nyota Uhura, our kind is mostly aggravated by the fact that you killed a Q and took control of the planet we designed as his prison. We find it humiliating.”
“What about me?” Elaan asked. “I don't have any of these silly powers, but your son still kidnapped me.”
The blobs turned an embarrassed shade of fuschia. “That's not something we discuss,” the male blob said. “We find it distasteful.”
The female blob shuddered. “What you people choose to do with and grow inside your own corporeal bodies is your own business.”
“Aw, hell no!” McCoy stormed out of the Squid and over to Charlie, whom he grabbed by the ear. “I told you I'm too young for this!”
“Too young for what?” Charlie squeaked.
“Elaan, when was your last menstrual period?”
Elaan looked slightly offended. “My people do not menstruate.”
“No,” Sybok protested, catching up with McCoy. “You didn't! We told you to use protection.”
“I did!” Charlie said. “I do!”
“Every time?” McCoy asked.
“Yeah... you know, except when we do it in the swimming pool.”
“Wait,” Uhura said. “You have sex in my swimming pool?”
“Damn it, Charlie!” McCoy snapped. “Women can still get pregnant when you do it in water.”
“I know, but Dad told me the chemicals in the swimming pool make you sterile and burn up all your new cells. I thought that meant the pool's, like, spermicide or something.”
“I only told you that so you wouldn't go in pools,” Sybok said, “not so you would go in and fuck your girlfriend!”
The male blob coughed. “Could you please take this conversation back to your own planet? This isn't the kind of discussion we want Trelane overhearing.”
“We'll go,” Guinan said, “if you cut the link between Sha-Ka-Ree and the Continuum. That's the only way we can be sure your son won't kidnap any more people off of the planet.”
“Fine,” the female blog said. “The link is severed. The Continuum will no longer hold any influence on your planet.”
“Thank you. Let's go home.”
-
After everyone had piled into the Squid, Charlie sat down next to Elaan, awkwardly drumming his fingers on his knees. “So, I guess you're, like, pregnant or something? Are you gonna keep it? Like, I mean, I support you either way. But, it's like your decision, you know.”
“I know.” Elaan stretched in her chair. “I'm going to keep it.”
“Really? You haven't had that much time to think about it. Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I require an heir.”
“Cool.”
“The child will be like you.”
“Yeah, I guess that's why Trelane wanted to off you.”
“I did not think it was possible, but the next Dohlman may be even more powerful than me.”
-
McCoy and Sybok managed to stuff themselves into the Squid's commode. “God, I think I'm going to be sick.”
“Over our future grandchild, or the child you almost killed?”
“A bit of both... I don't know what came over me.”
“You were only following your instincts,” Guinan shouted, her voice muffled by the bathroom door.
“Jesus.” McCoy jumped. “Are you listening in on us?”
“Sorry. It's a habit. Can I speak to Sybok?”
Sybok sighed and shimmied out of the bathroom and into the corridor. “What?”
“When you were at Gol, did they tell you anything about the history of the Vulcan Masters?”
“No, they were a bit busy locking me in a cell for a hundred days.”
“Fine, I'll give the Cliff's Notes version. The god-like aliens of the universe-your Apollo, the Thasians, the Q Continuum-exercised total control over all the other sentient species (except for my people, of course), until, one day, a group of telepaths decided they had enough. They rounded up all their undertakers-the people who helped dying pass on-and had them meditate until they could banish the gods to the afterlife just as they did with their dying friends. Ever since then a delicate balance has been struck between corporeal and incorporeal worlds. But when Vulcan was destroyed and the Vulcan Masters died with her, the balance was upset. But now...”
“I'm the last Vulcan Master. My legacy is killing people.”
“Basically.”
Sybok leaned against the bulkhead. “That's why the Thasians let Charlie go so easily. They knew I could kill them.”
“Yes.”
“And why Charlie listens to me.”
“Yes.”
“And why Dehner and Mitchell haven't gone on any egomaniacal killing sprees.”
“Partially. I think half of it is that their powers progressed so far that they have a unified consciousness with all of existence and therefore experience empathy for every living thing... but that's just my guess.”
“How do I get rid of it?”
“You don't. You can't run from this.”
Sybok locked himself in the bathroom and buried his head in McCoy's shoulder.
-
“You are not permitted to be in danger. Either of you.”
Uhura cuddled in closer to T'Pring. “I don't think I was in any real danger today, besides being bored to tears. Trelane would never have killed us. He just wanted his parents' attention.”
Data cocked his head to the side. “Is threatening homicide an acceptable method for gaining parental attention?”
“What does your conscience tell you?”
“No, it is not, because it could cause the loved ones of the person threatened to experience undue stress... Is that an emotion?”
“Stress? Yeah.”
“I can do five emotions now and most of them are for you.”
“Thank you, Data.”
-
Valkrell kneeled down in front of Worf. “You performed admirably today. Like a true Klingon.”
“I stayed in the ship the entire time.”
“Not charging into battle is the most difficult skill a Klingon must master.” She reached for his thighs, but Worf backed away. “You don't want me.”
“I do, but you will be disappointed. I am a...”
“I am, as well.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I have been saving myself for a Klingon worthy of me. And now I've found him.”
“Valkrell, I am not...”
“A virgin?”
“I am, but I... am not an amputee. I have legs.”
“Nobody's perfect,” she roared.
Previous Next
Chapter Title: Chapter 12: bbQ
Author: katiemariie
Artist: tprillahfiction
Fanmixer: civilbloodshed
Beta(s): subluxate and avsioss
Link to Art: Art
Link to Mix: Fanmix
Word Count: 7.1k
“Go along, son.”
They thought he couldn’t hear them, even when they whispered, “Quiet! Do you want to wake him?” He sunk to the floor, running this new body along the mirror.
“Something must be done.”
“It is not our place.”
He covered his ears with his fists.
“The timeline has been irreparably damaged. We cannot allow lower beings to craft universes at their will.”
“They did not choose to alter the timeline; it was a mistake.”
“So we must correct it.”
“To do so would upset the delicate balance-”
“The balance is already upset. Corporeality-worse, Humanity-has never soared higher. They’ve killed one of our kind, taken control of one of our prisons. If we do not do something to limit their progress, who will?”
“You know who.”
“You know as well as I do that we cannot depend on that.”
“Given time-”
“We cannot afford to wait!”
“The Listeners are maneuvering themselves to guide-”
“Since when we do we rely on the Listeners to course correct-”
“We are not to meddle in the affairs of mortals. You sound like him.”
“I am nothing like him. I don’t do this for my own amusement. I only want to protect them from themselves.”
The shouting stopped then, but he could feel them through the mirror, building entire universes of slow-burning resentment.
-
“Why does Saavik get a party and presents, and I do not?” Valeris pouted, standing on Sarek's lap.
“Under Human tradition, one receives presents at a party on the anniversary of the day of one's birth. Today is Saavik's birthday. Your birthday will come in a month's time.”
“That's not fair. Why do I have to wait a month?”
“Life is not fair. I do not doubt that Saavik will ask me at your birthday party why she should wait eleven months for her birthday.”
Across Geoff and Spock’s living room, Charlie reasoned with his parents. “If you won’t let me make Valkrell think Worf doesn’t have any legs, would you at least let me fix his paralysis?”
“No,” McCoy said. “Absolutely not.”
“Why? What’s the point in me having all these bitchin’ powers if I can’t help anyone?”
“They’ll take you away,” Sybok said harshly.
“No one’s going to take me-”
“Fine. You want to give your friends miracle cures? Go ahead. Just remember what happened to the last Human who went around healing people with his magical powers. He got arrested and was put up on giant wooden T until he died. And then little bunnies and baby chickens picked at his corpse.”
McCoy shook his head incredulously. “Jesus wasn’t eaten by bunny rabbits.”
“Then how did the Easter Bunny get his powers?”
“The Easter Bunny isn’t real!”
Data looked up from the coloring book he was sharing with Ainsley, his eyes round like Bambi’s. “The Easter Bunny is not real?”
“How old are you supposed to be?”
“The Easter Bunny isn’t going to hunt me down if I help out Worf,” Charlie protested. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying so much.” And with that Charlie disappeared.
Data blinked. “Where did he go?”
“I did not know Charlie could teleport himself,” Sarek said.
“Neither did I,” McCoy said. “What’s wrong?”
Sybok’s breath caught in his chest. “I can’t feel him. I can’t feel Charlie’s mind at all. He’s still alive, but I can’t feel him.”
“Nyota!” T’Pring yelled, careening out of the kitchen. “Where is she?”
“She went into the bathroom approximately two minutes ago,” Data answered.
T’Pring ran across the living room to the bathroom door, where she deftly hacked the lock open. There was no one inside. “She is gone. How could she have gotten out of my telepathic range so quickly?”
“Charlie just teleported out. Maybe he took her with him,” McCoy said.
“Charlie wouldn't teleport,” Sybok said. “He's just as afraid of transporters as you are.”
“Perhaps they have been rendered invisible,” Data offered. “Mother, if you can hear me, flicker the light switch.”
To everyone's surprise, the lights dimmed. Then Geoff came out of the kitchen, carrying a cake with three candles. His parents and both Spocks followed close behind, singing, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday...”
“What's wrong?” Geoff asked. “Why isn't anyone singing?”
From her birthday throne-really, just a normal table chair with balloons and streamers-Saavik pronounced, “Charlie and Aunt Nyota went poof.”
“Poof?” Spock repeated.
“Affirmative. Poof.”
Spock's comm chimed. “Spock here. I see. Spock out.” He placed his communicator back on his belt loop. “Citizens in the Western hemispheric settlements are reporting a solar eclipse.”
“That is impossible,” Sarek said. “The planet does not have any satellites.”
“It would seem then that Gary Mitchell and Elizabeth Dehner went 'poof,' as well.”
“They kidnapped them!” McCoy exclaimed. “Those two blue balls of light kidnapped Charlie and Uhura!”
-
One moment she was helping Worf calm his nerves through a friendly wheelchair kivitlra match, and the next she was standing beside Charlie in an old Terran dining hall. She fixed her posture into a more strategic position, guarding Charlie with her dagger. “How did we come here?”
“I dunno, but it wasn't me... I don't think.”
“It was not our doing, either,” a strange, echoing voice said.
Elaan spun toward the sound, slashing her blade through the air. “Who speaks?”
“They Who Speak as One.” Two grey-haired figures-a man and a woman-stepped out from the shadows. “We have dulled our inner light so that we do not hurt you.” It was just the sun, then. Menials.
Uhura dropped down from the ceiling, sending the candelabra swinging. “Whatever brought us here has terrible aim.”
“We're going to miss cake,” Charlie sighed.
-
Sybok stuck his head between his knees, releasing a stuttering breath. “Charlie...”
“Why would they take him?” McCoy asked, biting his thumbnail. “Where did they take him?”
“I am not entirely convinced Dehner and Mitchell kidnapped Charles and Uhura,” Elder Spock said, setting down a cup of tea in front of T'Pring, whose hands were shaking furiously.
“You said they were not to be trusted,” T'Pring responded.
“They were. I have no reason to believe they are not trustworthy presently. And, if they retain much of their characteristics from my timeline, Gary Mitchell would never take such drastic action without an audience. Like any god, he lived to be worshipped and feared.”
“If he's got such a God complex,” McCoy started, “maybe he's out to get rid of the competition.”
“Then why I am still here?” Sybok asked, his voice muffled.
“Your hypothesis does not explain the Dohlman's disappearance either,” Elder Spock said.
Data walked out the kitchen, looking as forlorn as his limited facial expressions allowed. “She is not in the cupboards.”
“Sutorsu-kan,” T'Pring said, “come sit.” Data shuffled over to T'Pring and sat on the floor next to her chair, resting his head on her lap. “Data needs his mother.”
Sybok lifted his head. “I'll do what I can.” He gripped McCoy's wrist. “If I pass out, don't have a fit.”
“Why would you-” Sybok eyes closed as he slumped into McCoy. “Jesus. What the hell is he doing?”
“Glimpsing the universe,” Elder Spock said.
Sybok's shoulders began to shake violently, as if he was having a seizure, and his mouth foamed. After a moment, he stilled.
“Sybok.” McCoy cupped his cheek.
“'m fine.” He sat up, wiping his mouth. “He's not there. He's not anywhere.”
“Perhaps they were taken to another universe,” Data suggested.
Elder Spock shook his head. “Inter-dimensional travel produces the same sensation as the death of a bonded one. That is, if my experience arriving in this timeline can be extrapolated to similar situations.”
“The afterlife is just another dimension,” Sybok said. “Katric separation is what produces the pain. As long as the katra remains in the same dimension...”
“Then no pain,” McCoy finished.
“That would explain why my mother did not report any pain upon my death,” Elder Spock said. “My katra remained in that dimension, albeit within Dr. McCoy.”
“If that is true,” T'Pring said, “they could all be dead. Their murderers could have stored their katras in this universe.”
“That couldn't have happened. I'm the only one who can move katra like that,” Sybok said.
“Are you certain?”
“I just looked at the entire universe in all its glory, and there's no one else who could've done it. So, unless there's another me running around...”
“They're alive,” McCoy said.
“But I just can't see them. Data's right; they are invisible.”
-
“Where the hell are we?” Charlie muttered, warming his hand over a fireplace... that didn't give off any heat.
“Gothos.” A short Human dressed like Liberace appeared next to the fireplace. “I apologize for leaving you waiting.” He played with the lace on the cuffs of his shirt. “You must believe me, I am not usually so inhospitable to guests. I would have had my valet greet you, but just today I had to relieve Mr. Woolf of his duties. It is so difficult to find good help these days. Least of all on Gothos. Take a seat, why don't you.” He smiled.
“Who the fuck are you?” Elaan spat.
“Ah, yes, of course. How rude of me. General Trelane, retired.” He bowed with a flourish.
“In what military did you serve?”
He frowned, but quickly recovered. “Let us not speak of such grave matters. Do not think of me as a general, but as a simple squire of Gothos.”
For some reason, Charlie felt a curl of satisfaction when Trelane said those three words.
“Squire,” Uhura said patiently, “why did you bring us to fair Gothos?”
Trelane smiled nervously. “For dinner, of course. Come, sit. The first course is exquisite, I promise you.” The five captives-cum-dinner guests were suddenly seated at a large banquet table. “Very good.” Trelane sat at the head of the table.
“Will there be cake?” Charlie asked.
-
Geoff stood in front of a dry erase board, tapping a marker on his forehead.
“We should begin with which parties have negative relationships with Sha-Ka-Ree,” Spock suggested.
“Right.” He wrote “enemies” on the board. “Who would want to hurt us?”
“The Romulan Star Empire,” Keras said.
“Ek'tra, the rest of the Vulcan diaspora,” Spock said.
“The Klingon Empire,” Worf said.
“The Organians, Starfleet, the Elasians, the Troyians, the species of the planet's original inhabitant, the entirety of the Mirror universe.”
“The Ferengi, the Andorians, Social Darwinists, eugenicists, people who support the social construction of Deafness as a disability.”
“The cochlear implant lobby... the Platonians.”
Unable to keep up, Geoff stopped writing and turned toward Spock, Worf, and Keras. “Maybe we should focus on who could have done this.”
“The Organians,” Spock said. “They have both means and motive.”
“But not opportunity,” Worf said. “Uhura said they would have been unable to take Charlie if she hadn't let them through the defense screen.”
“They could have developed the means to penetrate the defense screen,” Keras suggested.
“That line of thinking is entirely unhelpful in narrowing down suspects. Feasibly, anyone could have developed that technology.”
“I don't think so,” M'Benga said. “If a god couldn't crack this planet's defense system, then who could?”
“Another god,” Keras said.
-
“There has to be something here,” T'Pring muttered, strewing Elaan's things all across her room.
“What do you think you're going to find?” McCoy said, leaning on the door frame, biting his nails. “A note saying, 'If I ever disappear out of thin air, it was Professor Plum with the candlestick in the study.'”
“You are truly an inferior species, if you would allow yourselves to be kidnapped by an academic with a candlestick.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Sarcasm is the last refuge of the powerless.”
“That's where I'm standing, then.”
T'Pring stopped her one-Vulcan tornado through Elaan's bedroom. “How peculiar.”
“You find something?”
She held up a single playing card. An ace of spades. “Tell her Sulu sent you,” she read. “I received a card similar to this from Lieutenant Keenser when I left the Enterprise. Perhaps this is a Starfleet trend I have not heard of.”
“No. I've... I know that card!” McCoy spun on his heel, and ran out of the room. T'Pring follow him out of her house, down the street, and into McCoy's living room. “It's here somewhere.” He rushed to the bookcase in the corner, and began to pull out Sybok's scrapbooks, checking the front of each one. “Here.” He decided on a book, then flipped through the pages. “Look.” He held up the scrapbook for T'Pring to see. Another ace of spades was glue to the page. “This is from our going away party on the Tresselian space station. Some bartender...” He ripped out the card, and read the back. “Some bartender named Guinan gave this to me. Said I was the most important person in the universe.”
“Guinan was obviously intoxicated.”
“I get a card, you get a card, Elaan gets a card. Don't you think this is a little suspicious?”
“Are you implying that Keenser, Hikaru Sulu, and a bartender named Guinan are conspiring in a plot against us?”
“Yes!”
“I believe I preferred your Professor Plum theory.”
-
“This food tastes like sawdust,” Elaan said, spitting a mouthful of cornish hen onto the floor.
There goes diplomacy, Uhura thought. Trying the direct route with impish, flamboyant aliens always worked so well. “Squire, please excuse Elaan. She's very tired. I think it would be best if we all went home.”
“No!” Trelane banged his fists on the table. “I'm not done with you yet.”
“Done doing what, exactly?”
Trelane threw his napkin on the table, and walked over to the mirror, staring into his own reflection. “I don't want to. If I had any choice in the matter, I would vote against it. The present situation has become uncomfortable. There is little else I can do.” He turned around, grinning. “That doesn't mean we cannot have a raucous good time beforehand.”
“Before...?”
“Before you die.”
“Fuck this. We're leaving.” Charlie rolled his eyes up into his head until there was almost nothing but white showing. “Ow.” His eyelids fluttered closed, and he massaged them gently. “I guess I can't teleport.”
Dehner and Mitchell joined hands, glowed bright blue for a while, then nothing.
“Your talents won't work on Gothos. I took the liberty of placing anti-witchcraft wards around the planet. You're fortunate that I am more tolerant than Mr. Matthew Hopkins.”
“So, you're not going to murder us?” Charlie asked.
“Murder is such an ugly word.”
“I hate you,” Elaan snarled. “You are a despicable little man.”
“For that, you will die first... Who's up for a round of reversis?”
-
With everyone reassembled in Spock and Geoff's living room, McCoy put his (and T'Pring's and Elaan's and Spock's) cards on the table for all to see. “Does this mean anything to you?” he asked Elder Spock, who shook his head.
“I have never seen playing cards used in this fashion in this or any universe. The name Guinan, however, is somewhat familiar. She was a bartender, you say?”
“Yeah. Average height, medium build, black, long dreadlocks... no eyebrows.”
“Human?”
“Looked like one.”
“Appearances can be deceiving.”
“Why do you have to say shit like that?”
“Have any of you tried contacting Sulu, Keenser, or Lester?” Geoff asked.
“No,” T'Pring said. “We should not attempt to make contact until we have enough information to gain the upper hand.”
“A Klingon does not rush into battle without studying his opponent,” Worf said.
The front door chimed. “Come. It's open,” Geoff yelled.
In stepped a woman-average height, medium build, black, long dreadlocks... no eyebrows. “Hi. I heard you could use some-” She glared down at Worf, who'd managed to put a bat'leth to her throat in roughly five seconds. Not his best time, but still impressive. “Put that away. You'll poke someone's eye out with that thing.”
“That was the plan,” Worf growled.
She looked over at T'Pring. “Could you please call him off?”
“Under normal circumstances, I would,” T'Pring said sharply. “How did you come to this planet's surface? Security stopped all incoming vessels and transports an hour ago.” Without Uhura on planet, there was no way to calibrate the defense screen to allow passage from the outside.
“I was on the last shuttlecraft in.” She smirked at Worf. “Sat next to a lovely Klingon girl. She wouldn't stop talking about meeting a boy she met online.”
“I am not a boy!”
“That's not the only thing you're not.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my son?” McCoy demanded.
“Me? I'm Guinan. I tend bar. As for your son, I didn't have any part in his disappearance.”
“Do you know who did?”
“No.”
“Then why the fuck are you here?” Sybok shouted.
“I'm here to help.”
“Why? We don't even know you.”
“Yes,” Elder Spock said, “but she knows us. Why did you give Dr. McCoy a playing card with your name on it?”
“I told him.” Guinan grinned enigmatically. “He's the most important person in the universe.”
“Bullshit.”
“Dr. McCoy is hardly the most important person in this room,” Sarek protested. “He is not a head of state, he has never brokered any major peace treaties or cured any fatal diseases. He has not saved a Federation planet from annihilation. He has no supernatural talents to speak of, and, from what I gather from Sybok, he can barely feed himself.”
“Thanks, Dad,” McCoy snarled.
“That's precisely why Dr. McCoy is so important; he's an average, unimportant person who just happened to be in the right place at the right time and ended up altering the course of history,” Guinan said.
“I am not Forrest Gump!”
“Really? Who snuck Jim Kirk aboard the Enterprise? If you hadn't done that, Earth would've been destroyed and everyone in this room, except for me and Worf, would be dead.”
“That was one time.”
“Okay. If you hadn't insisted that someone go along with Sybok to investigate this planet, Uhura never would have received her current power and the planet wouldn't have been colonized. And if that never happened, Worf would be dead, Elaan would be some Troyian's child bride, and the T'Pelih would still be living in isolated poverty on Ek'tra. And even if Uhura would have gone without your influence, Dr. Chapel wouldn't have been there to treat Uhura and prevent Elder Spock from killing her if you hadn't driven Chapel to quit. Going even further back, you encouraging Uhura to pursue T'Pring set this entire chain of events in motion. And I think everyone in this room would agree that, if it weren't for your influence, Sybok would have gone mad years ago. The same with Charlie. And because of that, Elizabeth Dehner and Gary Mitchell are still alive and haven't murdered anyone.
“You're important, Dr. McCoy. Whether you like it or not.”
“How do you know all that? Half of those things aren't public record. Hell, some of them I don't remember.”
“I come from a race of listeners.”
“For a listener,” T'Pring said, “you are prone to monologues.”
“We're active listeners.”
-
Having grown bored with reversis (and finding that none of his guests knew how to play), Trelane herded everyone outside for a bowls match. “You see, you roll the ball like so, trying to get it as close to the jack as possible. Monsieur Mitchell and Mademoiselle Dehner, you will play on my team. As my guest, Monsieur Evans may go first.”
“Thanks,” Charlie mumbled, stepping up to the mat.
On the sidelines, Elaan edged closer to Uhura. “How might we escape from this creature?” she whispered.
“I don't know,” Uhura responded. “But I'm working on it.”
“Should I kill him?” Elaan palmed the dagger in her pocket.
“Not yet. He might be our only shot at getting home.”
“You are unable to contact the Matriarch telepathically.”
“No. I can't even feel her. Charlie might have better luck with Sybok.”
Elaan shook her head. “If Sybok could reach this place telepathically, then he would be here by now. There must be some sort of field around the planet.”
“We're on our own, then.”
“Do you still have access to your powers?”
“Yeah, I can manipulate Sha-Ka-Ree from here, but I don't know what good that will do us.”
“Perhaps you could send security on Sha-Ka-Ree a message. Write something in flora that would help them discover where we are.”
“That's actually a brilliant idea.” Uhura closed her eyes and began to write...
“No!” Trelane cried, throwing his bowl to the ground. “You can't escape. I won't let you.” He waved his hand, and Uhura felt her control over the flora snap. “There. Now you have to stay and play.”
-
“I've received a transmission from planetary security,” Spock said, returning his comm to his belt. “A small outgrowth of trees have appeared in a pattern that suggest Uhura is attempting to send us a message.”
“What is written?” T'Pring asked.
“'Hip hip hoorah.' And I believe it's pronounced 'tally ho.'”
“She must be under the effects of some kind of hallucinogen.”
“No,” Elder Spock said. “I remember those words. In my timeline, there was an alien named Trelane. He sent a transmission to the Enterprise with those exact words. He would have the power to abduct Lieutenant Uhura, Charles, Dehner, and Mitchell.”
“Do you remember where we could find Trelane?” McCoy asked.
“Yes. He lived on a planet named Gothos.”
“Good,” Sybok said. “Let's go to Gothos.”
“That will not be so simple. I recall the general area in which we found Gothos, but Trelane can move Gothos through space as if it were a starship. The planet could be anywhere.”
“Thanks, Spock,” McCoy grumbled. “We're about as close to finding them now as were were five minutes ago.”
“Hold on,” Guinan said. “This Trelane, do you know what species he was?”
Elder Spock shook his head. “He was not life as we know it. He was one of many god-like aliens we met on the five-year mission, but, unlike the rest, my Kirk was unable to defeat him.”
“What do you mean by god-like? What type of powers did he have?”
“He could build planets, conjure matter, transport matter, grant knowledge. He was able to observe Terra from Gothos, but only images from the distant past.”
Guinan furrowed her brow. “How old was he?”
“He had the appearance of a Human in his mid-thirties, but Captain Kirk believed he was a child.”
“On Gothos, was there some reflective object that he seemed drawn to? A mirror, maybe.”
“Yes, he had a mirror.”
“Shit,” Guinan muttered.
“What?” McCoy asked.
“This Trelane sounds like he's a young member of the Q Continuum.” At everyone's blank faces, she went on. “They're the closest thing the universe has to a pantheon. They're gods, and what's worse they know it. My people have had dealings with them in the past, and it wasn't pretty.”
“So, we're fucked then?” Sybok asked.
“Not entirely. My species and theirs co-evolved, so we're able to sense their presence. If Elder Spock can bring us close enough to Gothos, I should be able to pinpoint its location.”
“And then what?” McCoy asked. “How do we kill a god?”
Guinan stared meaningfully at Sybok. “We don't. I can hold Trelane off long enough for everyone to escape.”
“You would then be stuck with Trelane on Gothos,” Sarek said.
“Hopefully, I should be able to convince him to send me back home. Members of the Continuum and my kind can't stand to be in the same room for too long.”
“What would stop him from simply killing you?” Worf asked.
“Our peoples can't kill each other. We're stuck sharing the universe for the rest of eternity.”
-
“My people have a game like this,” Elaan said, picking up her croquet mallet. “Except we use these to hit each other over the head instead of those obnoxious balls.”
“I wish I could hit him over the head,” Charlie mumbled.
-
Despite his best attempts to avoid her, Valkrell found Worf gathering up his weapons at the dojo. “Worf.”
“Valkrell. I did not expect to see you. If I had, I would not have worn my prostheses.”
“I understand. I heard two of your comrades have been kidnapped.”
“Yes. By my honor, I must rescue them. I will not be able to keep our date.”
“That's fine. I will fight at your side. A comrade of yours is a comrade of mine.”
-
“Data is not accompanying us,” T'Pring said sternly. “I will not allow it. This mission is far too dangerous.”
“That is precisely why he needs to come with us,” Elder Spock said. “If I die or become incapacitated, there must be someone on board who can pilot the Squid.”
“Magda Kovac knows how to pilot the vessel. Why not take her?”
Elder Spock frowned. “You have not spoken to Spock about what he and Dr. M'Benga plan to do while we are away.”
“No. I assumed they would be watching the children, including Data.”
“I think it is best that you speak to him directly about this matter.”
-
Spock straightened his blouse. “If Nyota dies-”
“She will not die,” T'Pring said.
“The possibility of her demise exists and if it comes to fruition, the planet will choose another being to fulfill Nyota's role. Geoffrey and I have determined that the likelihood of the person selected surviving the process is greatest when that person is as physiologically similar to Nyota when she was turned into a cyborg. As the only Human females near Nyota's age and physical condition, Carol Marcus and Magda Kovac must stay on planet, near the site where the planet abducted Nyota, in case the worst happens.”
“Why do you need two?”
“In case the first one dies in the process.”
“What about Dr. Chapel? Why can she not stay and Magda Kovac come on the Squid?”
“Dr. Chapel is Nyota's physician. If Nyota is injured, she is the only person with sufficient knowledge about cybernetics to heal her.”
T'Pring steadied her breathing. “I will not lose them both on the same day. Data may accompany us, but I would sooner die than let harm befall him.”
-
Sybok gazed out the Squid's starboard window. “Is it wrong that I love Charlie more than I love you?”
“No,” McCoy said. “That's normal.”
“Good.”
“If it came down to it, I'd let you die to save Charlie.”
“Me, too.”
-
Fortunately, the default state of the shields surrounding Sha-Ka-Ree allowed vessels out but not in. The reasoning behind this was much like that of emergency exit only doors in public buildings. They didn't want anyone getting trapped on-planet if some bad shit went down. The Squid was able to leave the planet and head on its not-so-merry way to where Elder Spock remembered Gothos to be. A few minutes after take-off, the ship was hailed by a small, but remarkably fast, vessel.
“Should I raise our shields?” Data asked Elder Spock.
“No,” Guinan said. “That's our back-up.” Three figures in Starfleet uniform beamed onto the middle of the bridge. “I believe you all know Captain Sulu and Lieutenant Keenser.”
Sulu waved with his katana. “Hey.”
“This,” Guinan pointed to the pale woman in command yellow, “is Number One. She's the one who came up with playing card idea.”
“I thought you would be less likely to discard our contact information if it were written on a playing card rather than a piece of paper,” Number One said.
“I realize maintain an aura of mystery is important to your self-image,” T'Pring said, “but would you be too terribly inconvenienced by informing us who you are, what you want, and why you contacted us?”
Guinan smirked. “Are you sure you want to know? It's a very long and complicated story.”
“We have time.”
Guinan rested her elbows on her knees. “In the late 20th century of the Terran calendar, a new universe was created.”
“Whales?” Sybok asked.
“Whales.”
“If a new universe was created by my incursion in to 1983, why did we return to an unchanged 22nd century?” Elder Spock asked.
“You've heard of the grandfather paradox? You can't go back in time and kill your grandfather, because you would have never been born. If you have never been born, you couldn't go back in time to kill your grandfather. That's not strictly true. You can kill your grandfather in the past, but it has extreme consequences. Time compensates by creating a universe splintered off from the moment you killed your grandfather. You can stay in that new universe, while your home universe continues on. That's what happened when you and your friends kidnapped those whales. You went back to your home universe, which was entirely unaffected by your incursion into the past. And when your vessel and the Narada came through that black hole, you weren't just transported into the past. You were transported into the past in a different universe.”
“And that caused another splinter universe?” Chapel asked.
“No; because the Spock and Nero that arrived in this universe are not our Spock and Nero, no paradox was created and no universe splintered off to compensate. Every act of time travel, no matter how devastating, does not automatically cause a new timeline. Time travel is a normal part of existence. You people only find it so strange because you've only recently been able to do it.”
McCoy sighed. “What does this have to do-”
“I'm getting there. I told you this was a long story. El-Aurian can sense the splintering off of universes. That's why they call us Listeners-we can hear when species like the Q meddle with the timeline. It's one hell of a shock to the nervous system. When he ran off with those whales, it threw me into labor.” Guinan smile fondly at Number One. “That's where she got the name. She was the first El-Aurian born in the new universe.”
Chapel looked between Guinan and Number One. “Your species didn't have external surrogacy at that time?”
“We did, but my husband at the time and I were able to conceive naturally.”
“You're her mother?” Sybok asked slowly.
“Yes.”
“How white was her father?”
Number One stared at Sybok beleagueredly. “Skin pigment is not transmitted in the same way across all species.”
“It's like when a blue flower and yellow flower cross-pollinate,” Guinan explained “Depending on the species of the flowers, their offspring can end up being green, blue and yellow, or either blue or yellow. We're the last type of flower.”
“So your people don't have races?” McCoy asked.
“We do,” Number One answered, “but they are based arbitrarily on the size of our kidneys rather than the pigmentation of our skin.”
“The more you know.”
“Our people have entrusted Number One with the well-being of this new timeline,” Guinan said carefully.
“Where have I heard that before?” McCoy snarked, glaring at Elder Spock.
“You're not getting this. We don't want things to be as they were. We want things to be as they should.”
“What gives you the right to decide what's best?”
“We are not deciding what's best,” Number One protested. “We're helping people be their best.”
“You sound like him,” Worf snorted, pointing at Sybok.
“This isn't pop psychology. This is what our people are born to do.”
“An entire species of Syboks. How do you function?”
“All right,” Guinan said. “Imagine you're playing chess. Your opponent has only made one move, but you can see hundreds of ways the game can turn out. To get the fastest victory, to lose the fewest pieces, you have to play the game so that the other player makes the moves you need. That's what it's like to live as El-Aurian. That's what we have to do.”
“So, in your minds,” Chapel said, “we're all pawns.”
“No!” Guinan sighed. “We're trying to make you fulfilled. Happy. Reach your full potential.”
“What if our full potential isn't good?” Sybok asked quietly.
“Then it's not your full potential.”
“Sulu,” McCoy asked, “how the hell did you get mixed up with these people?”
“Number One was working under Pike when he recruited me,” Sulu explained. “She said I could do more good than just by only working for Starfleet.”
“I can't believe it! This whole time you've been reporting to those weasels.”
“Those weasels,” Guinan interjected, “are are trying to help you get your child back.”
“I didn't come here to get yelled at,” Keenser said, scuffing hir boot on the deck. “If you don't want my help, I'll stay on Lester's ship.”
“How could you help us?” Valkrell asked. “You are the size of a large gourd.”
“Height is not as important as resilience.”
“Resilience?”
Keenser walked over to Valkrell and lifted up hir tunic. “Hit me.”
Ever the Klingon, Valkrell didn't need to be told twice. She punched Keenser's abdomen as hard as she could, but her fist bounced right off of hir skin, sending her arm backward into the back of her seat. “'atlhqam!” she hissed.
“It's the same up here.” Keenser tapped hir temple. “We can't be brainwashed; our brains just bounce right back.”
“Keenser's species is impervious to mind control,” Number One added.
“Then how did the Platonians control hir?” Sybok asked dubiously.
“That wasn't mind control,” McCoy said. “They were just moving our parts around like we were puppets. That was the worst part of it. We could still think, but we-”
Number One shushed him. “I can feel the Q.”
“So do I,” Guinan said. “He's that way.” She pointed vaguely to the left.
“Thirty-six mark fifty-eight,” Number One clarified.
“Setting a course now,” Elder Spock said. “Engage.”
-
Uhura was ready to shove a shuttlecock down Trelane's throat, when the Squid set down on the squire's manicured lawn. “Oh, thank god.” She threw down her racquet.
Trelane glared at the vessel imperiously. “You were not invited.” A woman with no eyebrows and another in command gold stepped out of the ship, their hands held in front of them like claws. “No! No, no, no!” Trelane dropped to the ground, kicking his legs in the air. “I didn't say you could play!” He looked almost like Valeris this morning when she realized she wasn't going to get any presents.
“Get in the ship,” the older woman ordered.
Trelane's prisoners-cum-playmates trudged off toward the ship. Not content to let them go, Trelane grabbed hold of Charlie's arm. “Don't leave. Not before I kill you. I can do it, I swear.” Trelane scrunched up his face, and Charlie was engulfed in a yellow light.
“Charlie!” Sybok rushed headlong out of the Squid. His eyes narrowed as they focused on Trelane. And, suddenly, there was no Trelane and Sybok was lying in a heap on the ground.
-
Amanda stared at him reproachfully as Trelane whimpered. “He's just a boy, Sybok.”
“He tried to kill my son.”
“I wouldn't've, I swear,” Trelane cried. “I wouldn't've. I wanna go home.”
Joanna stepped out from the mist. “Send him back. It's not his time.”
“He tried to kill my son.”
“This isn't a gift you should use for revenge.”
“What would Leonard think?” Amanda added.
Sybok resigned himself. “Fine.” When he came back to his body, there were two very distressed clouds pulsating over his head.
“What did you do to our son?” the female blob demanded.
“Only what comes naturally,” Guinan answered.
“Listeners,” the blob hissed.
“It's good to see you, too. The vapor look works for you.”
“Trelane,” the male blob scolded, “why are these people here?”
“I only wanted to play,” Trelane said. “Honest.”
“Bullshit!” Charlie yelled. “He said he was going to kill us.”
“Is that true?” the male blob asked.
“Maybe,” Trelane answered. “A little.”
“Why would you do such a thing? These beings have spirit; they're superior.”
“They're trouble! Mom said so.”
The male blob sighed. “See? This is what happens when you-”
“Don't blame me,” the female blob said. “I'm not the one-”
“-patronize higher-”
“-play the great peacekeeper-” The blobs' sniping turned into a cacophony that filled Gothos' atmosphere, threatening to burst the eardrums of every corporeal being on planet.
“See!” Trelane shouted, stamping his foot. “This is why I did it! They're bad; they make you fight all the time.”
The noise quelled. “We didn't think you could hear us,” the male blob said.
“Please.” Uhura rolled her eyes. “The kids can always hear their parents fighting. It doesn't matter if they're in Nairobi or Gothos.”
“Why would you guys fight about us?” Charlie asked. “We never even met you.”
The female blob struggled to put this delicately. “There is some controversy within the Continuum as to whether people with physical bodies should have the power that you and They Who Speak as One do. As for Nyota Uhura, our kind is mostly aggravated by the fact that you killed a Q and took control of the planet we designed as his prison. We find it humiliating.”
“What about me?” Elaan asked. “I don't have any of these silly powers, but your son still kidnapped me.”
The blobs turned an embarrassed shade of fuschia. “That's not something we discuss,” the male blob said. “We find it distasteful.”
The female blob shuddered. “What you people choose to do with and grow inside your own corporeal bodies is your own business.”
“Aw, hell no!” McCoy stormed out of the Squid and over to Charlie, whom he grabbed by the ear. “I told you I'm too young for this!”
“Too young for what?” Charlie squeaked.
“Elaan, when was your last menstrual period?”
Elaan looked slightly offended. “My people do not menstruate.”
“No,” Sybok protested, catching up with McCoy. “You didn't! We told you to use protection.”
“I did!” Charlie said. “I do!”
“Every time?” McCoy asked.
“Yeah... you know, except when we do it in the swimming pool.”
“Wait,” Uhura said. “You have sex in my swimming pool?”
“Damn it, Charlie!” McCoy snapped. “Women can still get pregnant when you do it in water.”
“I know, but Dad told me the chemicals in the swimming pool make you sterile and burn up all your new cells. I thought that meant the pool's, like, spermicide or something.”
“I only told you that so you wouldn't go in pools,” Sybok said, “not so you would go in and fuck your girlfriend!”
The male blob coughed. “Could you please take this conversation back to your own planet? This isn't the kind of discussion we want Trelane overhearing.”
“We'll go,” Guinan said, “if you cut the link between Sha-Ka-Ree and the Continuum. That's the only way we can be sure your son won't kidnap any more people off of the planet.”
“Fine,” the female blog said. “The link is severed. The Continuum will no longer hold any influence on your planet.”
“Thank you. Let's go home.”
-
After everyone had piled into the Squid, Charlie sat down next to Elaan, awkwardly drumming his fingers on his knees. “So, I guess you're, like, pregnant or something? Are you gonna keep it? Like, I mean, I support you either way. But, it's like your decision, you know.”
“I know.” Elaan stretched in her chair. “I'm going to keep it.”
“Really? You haven't had that much time to think about it. Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I require an heir.”
“Cool.”
“The child will be like you.”
“Yeah, I guess that's why Trelane wanted to off you.”
“I did not think it was possible, but the next Dohlman may be even more powerful than me.”
-
McCoy and Sybok managed to stuff themselves into the Squid's commode. “God, I think I'm going to be sick.”
“Over our future grandchild, or the child you almost killed?”
“A bit of both... I don't know what came over me.”
“You were only following your instincts,” Guinan shouted, her voice muffled by the bathroom door.
“Jesus.” McCoy jumped. “Are you listening in on us?”
“Sorry. It's a habit. Can I speak to Sybok?”
Sybok sighed and shimmied out of the bathroom and into the corridor. “What?”
“When you were at Gol, did they tell you anything about the history of the Vulcan Masters?”
“No, they were a bit busy locking me in a cell for a hundred days.”
“Fine, I'll give the Cliff's Notes version. The god-like aliens of the universe-your Apollo, the Thasians, the Q Continuum-exercised total control over all the other sentient species (except for my people, of course), until, one day, a group of telepaths decided they had enough. They rounded up all their undertakers-the people who helped dying pass on-and had them meditate until they could banish the gods to the afterlife just as they did with their dying friends. Ever since then a delicate balance has been struck between corporeal and incorporeal worlds. But when Vulcan was destroyed and the Vulcan Masters died with her, the balance was upset. But now...”
“I'm the last Vulcan Master. My legacy is killing people.”
“Basically.”
Sybok leaned against the bulkhead. “That's why the Thasians let Charlie go so easily. They knew I could kill them.”
“Yes.”
“And why Charlie listens to me.”
“Yes.”
“And why Dehner and Mitchell haven't gone on any egomaniacal killing sprees.”
“Partially. I think half of it is that their powers progressed so far that they have a unified consciousness with all of existence and therefore experience empathy for every living thing... but that's just my guess.”
“How do I get rid of it?”
“You don't. You can't run from this.”
Sybok locked himself in the bathroom and buried his head in McCoy's shoulder.
-
“You are not permitted to be in danger. Either of you.”
Uhura cuddled in closer to T'Pring. “I don't think I was in any real danger today, besides being bored to tears. Trelane would never have killed us. He just wanted his parents' attention.”
Data cocked his head to the side. “Is threatening homicide an acceptable method for gaining parental attention?”
“What does your conscience tell you?”
“No, it is not, because it could cause the loved ones of the person threatened to experience undue stress... Is that an emotion?”
“Stress? Yeah.”
“I can do five emotions now and most of them are for you.”
“Thank you, Data.”
-
Valkrell kneeled down in front of Worf. “You performed admirably today. Like a true Klingon.”
“I stayed in the ship the entire time.”
“Not charging into battle is the most difficult skill a Klingon must master.” She reached for his thighs, but Worf backed away. “You don't want me.”
“I do, but you will be disappointed. I am a...”
“I am, as well.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I have been saving myself for a Klingon worthy of me. And now I've found him.”
“Valkrell, I am not...”
“A virgin?”
“I am, but I... am not an amputee. I have legs.”
“Nobody's perfect,” she roared.
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