Star Trek: The Next Generation - 020 - Q-In-Law by Peter David Page B
Authors: Peter David
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identical to those worn by the men of the Federation, but this was the first time anyone had the temerity to actually summon him.
He hesitated for a moment and then tapped it.
"Hello?" he said, his curiosity piqued.
"Mr. Q to the conference lounge," came the crisp voice of Jean-Luc Picard.
"Immediately." "You can't be serious," said Q.
"Dead serious." Q shrugged and vanished.
"Mother, you have to listen to me." Lwaxana Troi was in her quarters, lounging and snacking on a small bunch of grapes.
Deanna was seated in front of her, trying to get her to listen to something that made eminent sense to her.
What was distracting, however, was that each time that Lwaxana popped a grape into her mouth, Mr.
Homn would stand resolutely behind her, tapping that annoying Betazoid gong. Deanna wondered how her co-workers would react if she were to start doing that every time she ate meals with them.
"You worry entirely too much, daughter." "And you, mother, worry entirely too little. And about the wrong things." "I don't follow you, dear." "You give infinite care and attention to the most minute of Betazoid customs, from the Ab'brax to the going of thanks. But me, your living, breathing, concerned daughter--me, you don't heed at all.
You're not the least bit worried about Q, when you most definitely should be. Mother, you have no idea what he is capable of. You have no idea what he is." "Of course I do. He's a member of the Q Continuum." Deanna put her hands on her hips. "And what does that mean? Do you know?" Lwaxana made an impatient gesture.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. Men always have their little clubs and such. Your father had his own organization that met once a week. They gave it a fancy name, and it was really just an excuse to get together weekly and play cards." She smiled fondly. "He thought he had me fooled." "The Q Continuum is a bit more than a group of card players," said Deanna. "Q has immense power..." "Yes, I did sense that," said Lwaxana thoughtfully. She ate another grape, and another gong sounded. Deanna closed her eyes and tried not to think about breaking that blasted gong, because her mother would just scold her for what was on her mind. "I did sense that about him," continued Lwaxana. "I wasn't able to read his thoughts, but he had a sort of aura about him--power that you could almost touch." "You didn't touch it, did you?" demanded Deanna.
"Dear!" said Lwaxana in mock horror.
"Just what do you think I am?"
"We know what you are," said Worf.
Q was lying, totally relaxed, across the conference lounge table. Picard had chosen not to waste valuable time and energy angrily telling Q to get himself off the furniture. Privately, he was amazed that Q had shown up at his summons at all.
However, Q's deliberately casual manner was clearly annoying Worf, and Riker didn't seem any happier about it. Only Data sat and watched, thoughtfully, contemplatively.
"Oh, do you?" said Q, casually studying his fingernails. "And who explained it to you, Worf?
Did they find enough one-syllable words to do the job?" "You have an angle, Q," said Riker. "You always do. You always show up acting as if you want to be the benefactor of humanity. And then, sooner or later, your true motives become evident. So why don't we get past all the nonsense, and you tell us what the real story here is." "All I'm trying to do," said Q, sounding exasperated, "is blend in and learn the wonders of humanity. You're so insistent on expounding upon the marvels of your race, but when I express an interest in studying you close up, you suddenly get defensive. You're sending mixed signals, Jean-Luc. And your antagonistic reception puts the lie to your claims of brotherhood and peaceful coexistence." "In addition to those traits," said Picard, "is our ability to learn from the past. And in the past, Q, you have presented
He hesitated for a moment and then tapped it.
"Hello?" he said, his curiosity piqued.
"Mr. Q to the conference lounge," came the crisp voice of Jean-Luc Picard.
"Immediately." "You can't be serious," said Q.
"Dead serious." Q shrugged and vanished.
"Mother, you have to listen to me." Lwaxana Troi was in her quarters, lounging and snacking on a small bunch of grapes.
Deanna was seated in front of her, trying to get her to listen to something that made eminent sense to her.
What was distracting, however, was that each time that Lwaxana popped a grape into her mouth, Mr.
Homn would stand resolutely behind her, tapping that annoying Betazoid gong. Deanna wondered how her co-workers would react if she were to start doing that every time she ate meals with them.
"You worry entirely too much, daughter." "And you, mother, worry entirely too little. And about the wrong things." "I don't follow you, dear." "You give infinite care and attention to the most minute of Betazoid customs, from the Ab'brax to the going of thanks. But me, your living, breathing, concerned daughter--me, you don't heed at all.
You're not the least bit worried about Q, when you most definitely should be. Mother, you have no idea what he is capable of. You have no idea what he is." "Of course I do. He's a member of the Q Continuum." Deanna put her hands on her hips. "And what does that mean? Do you know?" Lwaxana made an impatient gesture.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. Men always have their little clubs and such. Your father had his own organization that met once a week. They gave it a fancy name, and it was really just an excuse to get together weekly and play cards." She smiled fondly. "He thought he had me fooled." "The Q Continuum is a bit more than a group of card players," said Deanna. "Q has immense power..." "Yes, I did sense that," said Lwaxana thoughtfully. She ate another grape, and another gong sounded. Deanna closed her eyes and tried not to think about breaking that blasted gong, because her mother would just scold her for what was on her mind. "I did sense that about him," continued Lwaxana. "I wasn't able to read his thoughts, but he had a sort of aura about him--power that you could almost touch." "You didn't touch it, did you?" demanded Deanna.
"Dear!" said Lwaxana in mock horror.
"Just what do you think I am?"
"We know what you are," said Worf.
Q was lying, totally relaxed, across the conference lounge table. Picard had chosen not to waste valuable time and energy angrily telling Q to get himself off the furniture. Privately, he was amazed that Q had shown up at his summons at all.
However, Q's deliberately casual manner was clearly annoying Worf, and Riker didn't seem any happier about it. Only Data sat and watched, thoughtfully, contemplatively.
"Oh, do you?" said Q, casually studying his fingernails. "And who explained it to you, Worf?
Did they find enough one-syllable words to do the job?" "You have an angle, Q," said Riker. "You always do. You always show up acting as if you want to be the benefactor of humanity. And then, sooner or later, your true motives become evident. So why don't we get past all the nonsense, and you tell us what the real story here is." "All I'm trying to do," said Q, sounding exasperated, "is blend in and learn the wonders of humanity. You're so insistent on expounding upon the marvels of your race, but when I express an interest in studying you close up, you suddenly get defensive. You're sending mixed signals, Jean-Luc. And your antagonistic reception puts the lie to your claims of brotherhood and peaceful coexistence." "In addition to those traits," said Picard, "is our ability to learn from the past. And in the past, Q, you have presented
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