Read Star Trek: The Next Generation - 020 - Q-In-Law Online

Authors: Peter David

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Science Fiction, #Media Tie-In, #Space Opera

Star Trek: The Next Generation - 020 - Q-In-Law (7 page)

BOOK: Star Trek: The Next Generation - 020 - Q-In-Law
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"... generally in order to raise such a fuss that people would be forced to realize that someone the family was eager to marry off was in the house. This would, in theory, attract someone who needed a good wife in the same way that he needed a good farm animal, and he knew that the family would not protest overmuch." Lwaxana gave a shrug of her elegant shoulders. "That's one interpretation." She got up and stood before her mother, trying to be as calm as she could. In a way, the anger that she had initially felt was now mutating into a dim amusement. "Mother, I'm living a full and happy life. I have opportunities that women of centuries ago didn't have. You have those same opportunities. Why are you saddling yourself with this artificial bereavement? It's a pointless tradition." "My dear," said Lwaxana archly, "anyone can uphold traditions that have meaning. Upholding the pointless traditions--that, Deanna, takes style." Deanna shook her head, and her mother patted her on the shoulder with genuine affection. "Oh, my darling, I just hate to think of you going through life unfulfilled." "I am fulfilled, mother." "Lonely, then." Lwaxana sighed. "No one should have to spend their life by themselves, without the comfort of a loved one beside them. No one to share their achievements with, the high points and low points.

 

 

When I think of you, day after day, in this sterile environment--alone, unmated, chaste--" Deanna coughed politely.

 

 

Her mother continued, "I become as depressed as when I..." Surprisingly, her voice trailed off.

 

 

Deanna looked at her mother with curiosity. "As when what, mother?" "Nothing." But Deanna had caught the stray thought from her mother and she said softly, "... as when you think of yourself?" Lwaxana glanced at her from under shaded lids.

 

 

"I am perfectly fine, Little One. At least I had my opportunity with your father, and those pleasant memories are more than enough to sustain me during my long, empty nights. Nights where my own body and mind are haunting me to find a new husband, and I still can't..." She actually seemed to choke on the words for a moment, and then she immediately pulled herself together. She drew herself up and said confidently, "So... which do you think?" and she pointed at the two dresses she'd been considering.

 

 

Deanna brushed both of them aside and picked up a dress that was a dazzling combination of colors, like an aurora borealis. "How about this one?" Mrs. Troi shook her head. "Now, how did that one get in there? Mr. Homn," she said scoldingly, "what's that one doing there?" Mr. Homn tilted his head slightly.

 

 

"Oh, of course," she said. "To wear on the actual festive day, since it would be considered the height of bad taste to be in mourning garb at a wedding. Bad luck and all that. I'm sorry, daughter. I appreciate your feelings, but tradition, I'm afraid, is tradition. Even..." "Pointless tradition," they said together.

 

 

Deanna gave a small chuckle and consoled herself that at least she was starting to be able to laugh about it. "All right, mother--the black with red, then.

 

 

It's more festive." She stood. "I have things to attend to before the reception." "Then by all means, don't let me stop you, Deanna." Deanna turned and was almost to the door, when a voice in her head said, Little One, aren't you afraid of growing old alone?

 

 

Deanna paused for a moment and then thought back, No, because I'll always have myself.

 

 

Mrs. Troi sighed. I envy you.

 

 

She turned back to her mother, but Mrs. Troi was already busy bustling about the cabin, and Deanna didn't need to be empathic to realize that her mother considered the discussion closed.

 

 

Deanna walked out but couldn't help but consider the fact that no matter how much children seemed to object to their parents, somehow, when they grew up, they wound up turning into their parents.

 

 

Despite her blithe confidence in her completeness, was Deanna really looking at herself in the future? Lonely? Depressed? Regretting directions in her life, and the possible solitude of old age?

 

 

Would she be in the service forever? Would she be who she was forever? Now, now she was young, attractive, vibrant. She had her choice of men, if she so desired, or none if she desired. But eventually her looks would fade. The vibrancy would leave her. Her hair would gray and then whiten, her limbs become heavy with age, the sparkle and vitality leave her eyes.

 

 

She touched her face, imagining wrinkles creasing the soft skin.

 

 

"Deanna?" She jumped slightly and turned. Riker was directly behind her.

 

 

He smiled the handsome, confident smile of the young. "Is something wrong?" She went to him and embraced him so hard he thought she was going to crack a couple of his ribs.

 

 

"There's definitely something going around," he muttered.

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

The Ten-Forward Lounge was crowded to bursting and, with the glitter of the different skinned races side by side, did not look too dissimilar to a Christmas tree.

 

 

Picard moved through the throngs, smiling and tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment as various Tizarin, or their guests, expressed their approval of the festivities or the good ship Enterprise herself. He thought he saw Riker for a moment on the far side of the lounge, but then his first officer vanished in another wave of partygoers.

 

 

Music filled the air, mingling with the voices of everyone around. The music was provided by a group of junior officers who, several months ago, had discovered a mutual proficiency for horns and had formed a group calling themselves the Federation Horns. At the moment, they were playing some sort of fast-paced tune that Picard vaguely recognized as swing. Picard's personal taste leaned more towards classical, although there were those-- Commander Riker among them--who would argue that swing was every bit as classical as Mozart.

 

 

He bumped into Graziunas, literally. More precisely, Graziunas bumped into him, and only a quick maneuver by Picard prevented the captain from spilling his own drink.

 

 

"Sorry, Picard!" boomed Graziunas.

 

 

He was shouting to be heard above the music, but it wasn't very difficult for him. His normal speaking voice was practically a bellow.

 

 

"Crowded here!" "Yes, I know," Picard replied.

 

 

"What?!" "I said, Yes, I know," Picard shouted, disliking having to shout but not seeing any other way out of it. "Perhaps we should have had this celebration in a larger area." "Oh, no!" protested Graziunas. "No, this is perfect! This is ideal!" He laughed and pointed. "Look at them, Picard!" Picard turned and followed where Graziunas was indicating. There were Kerin and Sehra, seated opposite each other at a table, holding hands and gazing dreamily at each other.

 

 

"Amazing," said Graziunas. "For all they're aware of the rest of the world, this room could be empty! The joyful blindness of youth, eh, Picard? Remember it?" "I was never young," said Picard with a hint of a smile. "I was always as you see me now." Graziunas laughed boisterously at that and clapped Picard on the back. The captain staggered slightly and hoped that the bear of a man hadn't dislocated his shoulder.

 

 

"Monopolizing the father of the bride? Shame, shame, Jean-Luc." Picard glanced around to see Lwaxana Troi standing uncomfortably close to him. She had every reason to, of course. The music was sufficiently loud that no one could hear anything if they were more than a foot apart. What made Picard edgy was what else might be motivating her. Nevertheless, he smiled and said, "My pardon, Mrs. Troi. Graziunas," he said quickly, "do you know--?" Graziunas took her hands and smiled broadly. "Who could forget the holder of the Sacred Chalice of Betazed! Lwaxana, how are you, my dear?" He graciously took her hand and raised her knuckles up to tap them lightly against his forehead. "You are never far from my thoughts." "Graziunas, you old flirt, you," replied Lwaxana, allowing him to retain her hand.

 

 

"You'll make Jean-Luc jealous." Graziunas looked from one to the other.

 

 

"Captain! Are you and the exquisite Lwaxana--?" "Oh, just friends," said Picard quickly. "Just friends." "Close friends," said Lwaxana Troi, "with a certain... understanding. Isn't that a fair assessment, Jean-Luc?" Picard, trying to find some gracious way out of the situation, was abruptly given a reprieve.

 

 

The lights throughout the Ten-Forward lounge flickered, and there was an odd sound, as if there had been a temporary power drain. Everyone looked around in a vague, but not terribly alarmed, manner. They were all too much the space veterans to become especially upset over a power surge. The Federation Horns, in fact, did not miss a note.

 

 

Nevertheless, Picard seized the opportunity, especially when Lwaxana said in confusion, "Now, what caused that, I wonder?" The lights went back to normal, but Picard wasn't about to let that be an excuse. "I will definitely find out," he said. "In fact, I see my chief engineer over there. Yes, I must check into this. You'll excuse me. Duty calls." "But, Captain," began Mrs. Troi.

 

 

He put up a hand. "I'm sorry. I cannot stand about and enjoy myself when there's the slightest hint of a problem." He turned quickly and started to make his way towards La Forge, who had sought safe haven near one of the viewing ports.

 

 

"Now, there is one dedicated man," said Graziunas approvingly.

 

 

Lwaxana frowned. "Yes," she said, not entirely able to hide the sourness in her voice.

 

 

"He's dedicated enough to be three dedicated men."

 

 

Behind the bar, Guinan's eyes went wide. The lights had just gone back to normal--it had been so minor a flickering that under ordinary circumstances, it wasn't cause for the slightest concern.

 

 

But Guinan knew, knew immediately. She looked around quickly, trying to pick him out in the crowd. Damn him. Where was he? Maybe he hadn't even materialized in the crowd, but instead, just outside Ten-Forward, and he had just entered.

 

 

Her head snapped around in time to see the doors hiss shut. Someone had indeed entered, but it was so mobbed that she couldn't see where he was.

 

 

"Captain!" she called out, but there was so much noise that she couldn't make herself heard. She didn't wear a communicator, so she couldn't get his attention that way. She could have shouted at the top of her lungs, but she didn't want to do anything that might result in general alarm or even, God forbid, a panic. There were too many people in Ten-Forward, way too many people.

 

 

She glanced around and saw Picard on the other side of the room, getting farther away by the second. He definitely was on the move, and his target seemed to be Geordi La Forge.

 

 

Guinan took a deep breath and started to push her way through the crowd, all the while looking around with barely controlled desperation, trying to pick out the being that she knew was there.

 

 

Geordi glanced around as Picard walked up to him. "I don't do well in crowds, Captain," said Geordi, feeling the need to explain. "All the images, and keeping them sorted... gives me a headache." "Quite all right, Mr. La Forge. To be honest, you gave me a much-needed excuse. Those lights flickering before..." Geordi gestured towards his communicator.

 

 

"The moment it happened, I called down to the engine room. They're running a systems check now." "Any idea what caused it?" "A mild energy flux like that?" Geordi shrugged. "Could be any one of a dozen things, all of which are purely routine. Still, it's the kind of thing we should be preventing through standard diagnostics checks. I'll make sure my men stay on top of it." "Yes, see that you do. However," Picard smiled thinly, "if it had to happen, at least it happened when I needed a break from--" "Mrs. Troi!" said Geordi quickly in a very hearty, greeting-sounding voice.

 

 

Picard turned, immediately understanding the clear warning of his engineer. "Lwaxana," he said, as Mrs. Troi swept up to him.

 

 

"Graziunas found someone else to talk to," said Lwaxana. "And although I know most of the people here, frankly, I can't think of anyone else I would rather speak with, Jean-Luc. We have so much to catch up on." She idly dabbed her little finger in her drink and swirled the liquid. "So much to discuss. We really never... connected... the last time I was here." La Forge was watching the ebbing and flowing of body heat and color that his VISOR was sending him. The captain was clearly disconcerted. It was fascinating to watch, since the last time he'd seen the captain this way was... well, when Lwaxana Troi had made her last visit.

 

 

It was fascinating. It was as if Lwaxana was sending out some sort of waves to Picard, and Picard was doing his level best to ignore them.

 

 

Picard heard a burst of laughter carrying over the voices of the other revellers, and even above the music. It was Graziunas, all right, and the voice of Nistral was joined in it.

 

 

Both men were laughing as if they had heard some sort of tremendously funny joke.

 

 

They sounded so boisterous that even Kerin and Sehra looked up for a moment, and then they smiled and went back to gazing at each other.

 

 

"Sounds like the fathers of the bride and groom are having a good time," observed Geordi.

 

 

"Counselor Troi says that they have some innate hostility towards each other that they're trying to sublimate," Picard said, gazing out over the crowd. He noticed the people reacting with annoyance about something, as if somebody were shoving at them. He raised an eyebrow. He certainly hoped it was none of his people. He counted on them for better behavior than that.
BOOK: Star Trek: The Next Generation - 020 - Q-In-Law
13.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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