REP: Oasis 1/8 [PG-13] (TNG, Q)
Laura Taylor
AUTHOR: Laura Taylor (dre...@roanoke.infi.net)
SECTION: 1/8
RATING: PG-13
SERIES/CODES: TNG, Q
SUMMARY: Set about a year after "First Contact." An assassination
attempt leaves Q fighting for his life. Will Fatima al-Ghazali be able
to make the ultimate sacrifice on his behalf, or will her grief overcome
her compassion?
Disclaimer: Paramount owns the Star Trek universe and all the characters
contained within, except for those I created. No copyright infringement
is intended nor is this story written for profit.
Notes: This is being reposted in response to Mirage's challenge for
fanfic related to myths; "Oasis" incorporates elements of several
mythologies, most of them from Persia, Egypt and Greece. It has not been
revised since it was first posted 2 years ago, and thus does not need to
be added to the archive queue (it's already there). The entire story can
be found at http://members.xoom.com/LCTaylor/Oasis.html
All comments welcome, in public or private. Enjoy!
~~~~~
A bard must traverse o'er the world,
Where things concealed must rise unfurled,
And tread the feet of yore;
Tho' he may sweetly harp and sing,
But strictly prune the mental wing,
Before the mind can soar.
George Moses Horton
"The Art of a Poet"
Captain Jean-Luc Picard placed his head in his hands and groaned. He had
just received a directive from Starfleet Command that alternately
perplexed and infuriated him. He closed his eyes, then opened them and
pinched himself hard on the hand. No luck; he was not in his bed, as he
had hoped, and he had not just awakened from an unpleasant dream.
Not wanting to delay the matter any further, yet simultaneously not
wanting to share the news with his crew because doing so would make it
incontrovertibly true, he summoned his senior officers to the
observation lounge.
Before leaving his ready room, he walked over to the replicator to
request a drink. He considered ordering his usual — tea, Earl Grey, hot
— but decided it would not be enough.
"Double Bourbon, straight."
*************************
"Ahem," Captain Picard said, clearing his throat nervously once everyone
had settled in their customary chairs. "I just received some rather
unusual information from Starfleet Command. News that I guarantee you're
not going to believe."
Commander Will Riker straightened in his seat and looked at Picard with
bemusement, a sly smile creeping in around his mouth and eyes. "And here
I thought we'd seen just about all there is to see in this quadrant.
This ought to be a doozy."
"Oh, it is, Number One, it is, especially when you consider the source.
Our orders are to proceed towards Earth. Somewhere along the way — I
don't know where or when — we are to pick up an unusual passenger. A
passenger, an old adversary, you might say, whom we all know only too
well." He rubbed his head nervously. "We are then to ferry this 'guest'
to Federation Headquarters, where he will be formally inducted as an
ambassador between the Federation and his people."
Deanna Troi looked at Picard, puzzled by the maelstrom of emotions she
sensed churning within him. She concentrated, trying to filter through
the conflicting emotions as she sought to determine their cause. Then
her enormous eyes widened even further. "You're kidding me--"
Data asked what everyone else was thinking. "Whom will our guest be?"
"Q."
"Q?" Riker, Doctor Crusher and Geordi LaForge asked simultaneously.
"Hasn't he blessed us enough with the good fortune of his existence?
What kind of a stunt is he up to now?" Riker demanded to know. "Is this
another one of his pointless, inane 'tests'?"
"It seems that Q's numerous forays into our lives have piqued the
interest of the entire Continuum, which in turn decided that the best
way to really learn more about us was to open relations between the
Continuum and the Federation and appoint an official emissary to foster
dialogue between our two races. Just our luck, that emissary happens to
be Q."
Picard paused, considering the ridiculous irony of the situation. "I
suspect that underlying all this diplomacy-speak the truth is that Q got
himself in trouble again and the Continuum is trying to channel his
irresponsibility rather than punish him as before. At least this time
we've been warned in advance of his impending arrival. A mixed blessing,
at best." He sighed. "Maybe we can arrange to be sucked into a temporal
causality loop before then. In any event, you have your instructions."
He paused again, lost in thought. "Number One, you have the bridge. I
feel a rather nasty headache coming on. Dismissed. Oh, and Commander?"
Riker turned to look at Picard. "Sir?"
"Try to keep in mind that Q will be an official diplomatic guest. Don't
encourage him."
Riker stiffened. "Yes, sir," he groused.
*************************
Several hours later, Picard felt well enough to return to the bridge. He
had just settled into the command chair when an all-too-familiar burst
of light momentarily blinded him. Picard tensed reflexively, then
noticed the figure standing before him.
It was not Q.
It was, in fact, a young boy, approximately ten years old, judging from
his appearance. The expression of wide-eyed wonder on his face reminded
Picard of Wesley Crusher, when he first caught sight of the Enterprise's
main bridge, and for a moment Picard wondered if Q had sent him back in
time to their first meeting en route to Farpoint. Upon closer
examination, however, Picard realized the boy was not Wesley. He was
wearing a child-size Starfleet uniform bearing the insignia of an ensign
and immediately snapped to attention when he spotted Picard.
"Sir," he began, "I am here to --"
"Who the blazes are you? Is this one of your pranks, Q?" Picard snapped.
The boy studied Picard calmly as he considered his response. He had been
warned about the reaction he would get from the Enterprise crew. "I am
Q," he answered, gazing around the bridge, the bridge that he had heard
so much about he felt like he had been here all his life, "but the Q you
know is my father."
"Your father?" Troi blurted, unable to contain herself, although
everyone else on the bridge seemed to have been rendered momentarily speechless.
"Great. Just great," muttered Riker once he managed to pick his lower
jaw up off the floor. "He's gone and reproduced himself. Just what we need."
"You need not be concerned, Commander," the young Q replied. "I am not
like my father in temperament, although I do share his fascination with
humans. You see, my godmother is human, and, well, she's taught me a few
things about human behavior, and how to better conduct myself when in
the company of humans. I have no intention of testing you or harassing
anyone on the Enterprise."
Having finally found his voice, Picard croaked, "Why are you here? We
were told to expect your --" he forced himself to say the word "--
father. We're supposed to take him to Earth."
"He sent me here to bring you to the Continuum first."
This proved to be just a bit much for the hapless captain as his
headache renewed itself with unexpected vehemence. He closed his eyes
and groaned softly. I should have retired years ago, he thought to
himself. A comfortable chateau, nothing but gardens to tend and books to
read, maybe even a guest professorship at the Sorbonne, but no...
The young Q looked at Picard and smiled softly. He reached out an arm
and delicately touched the Captain's shoulder, sending a warm rush of
energy into Picard's body. His father and his godmother had told him so
many wonderful stories about this amazing, this remarkable human, he
wanted to make a good impression.
Still expecting the other shoe to drop, Riker barked, "Get away from
him!" He unholstered his phaser, remembering too late what had happened
to him the last time he physically threatened a Q. Instinctively, he
froze, although he gnashed his teeth in ill-concealed fury and frustration.
"It's - It's all right, Number One," Picard said, lifting his head. He
smiled at the boy, amazed that such a gentle and sincere creature could
have such a pest for a father. "What did you do to me? My headache's all
gone, and I think you even got rid of the rheumatism in my knee."
"I was just trying to help. I'm well aware of your past history with my
father, Captain. I hope I can make up for that in some fashion." He
smiled back at Picard.
Riker spoke up. "You said that you were here to take us into the
Continuum. How is that possible?"
"First of all, I'm here to escort Captain Picard, and only the captain,
to the Continuum," the boy replied. "Secondly, it's not as impossible as
it seems; it's been done before. I believe my father once told you that
humanity will eventually evolve into a level of existence similar to
what we are now?" Riker nodded. "The Q are energy beings, completely
unaffected by time or space or matter. Humans are actually part matter,
part energy, and the part of you that is energy-based is very much like
a Q. The energy part of you is what can enter the Continuum, while your
material aspect remains behind in the physical universe."
Riker looked puzzled. "I don't understand. You've lost me."
Troi interjected, "I think I know what he's talking about. The energy
part of humans is what was once referred to as a 'soul'. When Terrans
still worshipped creator deities, they believed that they each possessed
an immortal soul or 'divine spark'. Is that what you're referring to?"
she asked the young Q.
He nodded. "Those primitive theists were on to something, they just
didn't have all their facts straight. Over the next million years,
humans will gradually shed their physical bodies and their mortality,
which together bind them to a specific point in space and time, as their
'souls', as you phrased it Counselor, escape to cavort about the
universe. In fact, you're evolutionarily about three eons ahead of
schedule, which is part of the reason why Father has been so interested
in humans."
"I presume then, that you intend to separate the Captain's soul from his
flesh to take him to the Continuum. What will happen to his body while
he is in the Continuum? Will he be in any danger?" Troi asked.
"Wait a minute, Counselor," Picard rebutted. "I haven't agreed to go.
I'd first like to know why I'm supposed to go with you."
"You don't have to go with me, Captain," the young Q responded. "This is
an invitation, not an order. The reason why my father has been named as
Ambassador to the Federation is that he has reached that stage in his
existence when he is expected to ascend to the Council of Elders. Each
Elder has a specific purpose in maintaining the preordained order of the
universe — some are responsible, for example, for preserving an equal
balance between hydrogen and oxygen in water molecules, or for
establishing plant life on new planets, or, as in the case of my father,
for monitoring human evolution and development. The Council realized, as
my father approached the Age of Ascension, that it might serve the
Continuum well to put his fascination with humanity to good use. His
reports on the Federation have stirred up quite a bit of interest and
controversy in the Continuum, and the Council decided it would be to our
— and your — advantage to establish an official relationship. My role in
all this," he concluded, "is to escort Captain Picard, if he wishes, to
my father's Rite of Ascension, after which the Enterprise will escort
him to Earth as planned."
Picard considered the young Q's offer. He stood, tugged on his uniform
and said, "As captain of the USS Enterprise and a designated emissary of
the Federation, how can I possibly refuse?" He bowed formally. "Very
well, Q, I accept your invitation, and look forward to this momentous occasion."
"Captain," Troi cautioned, "I'd first like to know what will happen to
your physical self when you are away."
"There is no cause for concern, Counselor," the young Q said. "Captain
Picard will have the appearance, and all the symptoms, of being in deep
stasis — a coma, if you will."
"Sir," Riker said, "I recommend that you — that your body — remain in
Sickbay under Dr. Crusher's care."
"An excellent suggestion, Number One." Picard turned to the boy. "Give
me one hour to prepare. Commander, you have the bridge."
TBC...
--
=====
"This city of monuments [Washington, D.C.] is itself a monument to
blunders, bungles and boondoggles. Part of what makes this country great
is it can survive Washington year after year."
Tom Shales