"Sounds to me like they're doing a pretty good job of sublimating it," Geordi said.
The men laughed raucously again. "Whatever is keeping them happy," said Picard, "I only hope it keeps going. We have a week of ceremonies and such, and the last thing we'd need is for the fathers to suddenly remember that they dislike each other." Then his voice hardened in annoyance as he saw more people shoved out of the way by someone in the crowd.
"Who the devil is that?" And then he was astounded to see Guinan push her way out, getting more nasty glances from others in the crowd. "Some hostess," one person muttered.
Guinan ignored it and went straight to Picard.
The thought of scolding Guinan for her behavior never even crossed Picard's mind. He would have staked his life on her manners.
"What's wrong, Guinan?" he said immediately.
She wasted no time on preamble. "He's here," she said in a low, intense voice.
Picard frowned for a moment, not able to understand.
and then he did. With startling clarity, he knew exactly who and what she was referring to.
Mostly it was her reaction. He had never seen Guinan respond to anyone else in the galaxy the way in which she was now.
She was... tense.
No one, and nothing, made Guinan tense, except for one being.
"Merde," said Picard. "Deep merde." "What's wrong?" said Geordi. All he knew, from the way that the captain's thermal readings had reacted, was that something was seriously wrong.
"Jean-Luc? You're upset," said Mrs. Troi with authority. She didn't sound like someone expressing concern, but rather a doctor making a diagnosis.
"Nothing to concern yourself over, Lwaxana," said Picard, making the faintest attempt to cover.
He turned back to Guinan. "Where--?" "You're concerned over a letter of the alphabet?" said Lwaxana.
Picard flinched as if struck. He could not believe he'd forgotten with whom he was dealing.
He turned and faced Lwaxana and, in a command tone of voice that he had never taken with her, said, "This is not the time for mind reading." "You think powerful thoughts," she replied with amusement. "If you're knocked over by a powerful gust of wind, do you blame the wind or yourself?" Gently, but firmly, he sat her down in a vacant chair. "Stay here. We're all in terrible danger," he told her in a low, intense voice. "If you read anything from my mind, read my genuine concern for you and for this ship. Stay here." She nodded indifferently, never taking her eyes from him. "Yes, sir." He turned back to Guinan. "Where is he?" "I don't know." There was even louder laughter from the center of the room, where the two fathers were rocking with mirth.
And then he heard Nistral say, "A cigar in his mouth! Oh, that must have been priceless!" "Oh, it was," came another voice, as familiar as the sound of nails on chalkboard, and about as soothing.
Without a word, Picard immediately started through the crowd. He toyed with the thought of summoning security, but dismissed it. What in the world could they possibly do, besides get themselves injured or transformed?
The crowd parted for him, since he was the captain, after all. Guinan was right behind him, followed by a still confused Geordi. Picard heard three men--well, two men and something else-- laughing loudly, and then he made it through and stood there facing Graziunas, Nistral, and.
him.
"Oh, Captain!" said Graziunas, pointing. "Your admiral was just regaling us with some stories about your past adventures, although I'm sure they're things you'd rather have kept quiet." "I know precisely what I'd like kept quiet," said Picard, and he stabbed a finger. "And what I'd like kept quiet is this... person... right here!" "Now, Jean-Luc," said Q, raising a scolding finger. "Temper. You may not respect the individual," and he smiled ingratiatingly, "but you have to respect the uniform."
Chapter Seven
Deanna Troi and Worf were on the bridge.
All had been calm thus far, so although a security team was ready in case they were needed, it had been decided that the presence of security was not needed at this first reception for the Tizarin. Picard had felt that it was imperative to try and set a relaxed atmosphere for the proceedings in order to encourage the air of cooperation and goodwill that was necessary for this gathering. Worf had agreed, albeit with some reluctance. To the Klingon, there was no such thing as too much caution.
Rather than sit in the captain's chair, however, he hovered nearby at the security station, keeping abreast of routine developments through the quadrant via Starfleet communications. He performed this function in much the same way that twentieth-century automobile drivers kept themselves apprised of developing traffic jams.
Forewarned is forearmed, and if the Ferengi or any potential troublemakers were to wander into the area, or if anyone had declared war on somebody else, then Worf wanted to be prepared.
Deanna Troi sat in her customary seat on the bridge. She was there for two reasons-- first, because she knew that her mother was down at the reception, and she was still uncomfortable enough with this Ab'brax business that she wanted to give her mother some distance. The second was that crowded parties tended to be uncomfortable affairs for her. The barrage of empathic waves could practically be battering to her.
She envied her mother's superior and formidable telepathic abilities. Lwaxana could easily erect powerful screens that shielded her from the thoughts of others. She could pick and choose as she saw fit, since she was a full Betazoid, and a strong one at that. Deanna was half-Betazoid. She had her carefully trained empathic skills, and she could receive from a skilled sender such as her mother. Still, how much more could she accomplish as a counselor if only.
Little One sounded in her head.
Deanna blinked in surprise. Usually her mother didn't broadcast unless they were face to face. Something must be up. She called upon her rarely used projection talent, and sent back, What is it, mother? For the moment she chose to ignore the annoying Little One.
I'm curious, dear. Does the letter Q have any meaning for you?
Deanna's eyes widened. "Q!" Worf's head snapped up immediately. His voice dropped a tone lower in register.
"Q?" he said cautiously. "Counselor, what are you--?" Mother, why did you bring it up? Deanna demanded.
There's the oddest individual here, and Jean-Luc associated him with that letter.
Deanna immediately got to her feet. "I'll be right down," she said to thin air. "Worf, hurry," and she bolted into the turbolift.
Worf had no idea what was going on, but he immediately followed her into the lift. The rest of the bridge crew stared at each other in confusion.
In the turbolift, she said, "Ten-Forward deck," and then turned to Worf as the turbolift started towards its destination. "I believe Q is at the party." "He picked the wrong one to crash," rumbled Worf, touching his communicator. "Worf to security. Meet me at Ten-Forward. Q is there." "Why hasn't the captain summoned you?" she asked him.
"Perhaps Q is blocking his transmission. In that event, I do not wish to do anything to warn Q we are coming. That way, we have the element of surprise on our side." "Somehow, Worf," said Deanna Troi ruefully, "I tend to think Q always possesses the element of surprise, because he is Q." Worf checked the level of his phaser. "Then I'll borrow it," the Klingon said curtly.
"What are you doing here, Q?" demanded Picard.
Q actually looked hurt at Picard's tone. It was, Picard thought, a splendid bit of acting. "I? Merely enjoying your hospitality, Picard. Am I not entitled?" "No, you are not," shot back the captain.
Graziunas was looking from Picard to Q and back again. "Captain, is there some problem here?" he asked.
"Yes," said Nistral, also looking confused.
"Do tell us. The admiral was being most entertaining..." "He's not an admiral!" said Picard.
"He is--" And Picard thought, What now? I tell them he's a super being who can accomplish anything with pure thought? Let them know we have a creature who can punt us light years into the middle of Borg space if he's of a mind to, standing here in the middle of this party? Start a complete panic for no purpose?
He also realized, at that moment, that he had just graciously filled in Lwaxana Troi on the true nature of things, if she was of a mind to have been listening in. He hoped she wasn't.
Without any visible hesitation, Picard said, "He is not welcome on this ship." The majority of the partygoers were Tizarin, but there were enough Enterprise regulars around to spot Q and promptly start to back away. They knew that whatever was going on, it was definitely the captain's ball to run with. Commander Riker, however, immediately pushed his way to Picard's side.
The Federation Horns, sensing the abrupt mood switch in the room, slowly lowered their instruments.
"Captain, I beg to differ," said Graziunas.
"Yes, Picard, he begs to differ," Q told him. Picard glared at him, but Q serenely sipped the synthehol from his glass. He glanced at it with a frown and abruptly the clear liquid turned a deep purple. He continued to drink.
"This is a Tizarin celebration," Graziunas continued, unaware of what was happening. "It is Tizarin tradition that all who peaceably attend a wedding celebration must be welcome." "He is absolutely right," said Nistral, wavering slightly. Clearly he had been drinking a bit too long.
"That may be," said Picard, "but this individual is not welcome aboard this ship." "We can't ask him to leave," said Graziunas, looking shocked. "That would be a formidably bad omen. Why, we couldn't allow the wedding to proceed if that happened. Everything would be canceled, and the marriage deemed hopeless." Picard looked from one to the other. "You can't be serious." "Yes, Captain, quite serious," said Nistral.
"Face it, Picard. I'm back," said Q serenely.
Picard turned to face him, planting his feet firmly. "What do you want, Q?" he demanded.
"Why do you assume I want anything?" Q replied.
Suddenly he took a step back as Guinan approached him. She crossed her hands in front of herself, palms upward, as if trying to ward Q off in some bizarre fashion. Q tensed like a cat. "This is no way to welcome a guest, Picard." "You're no guest here, Q," Picard told him.
"He is if he's attending our gathering," Graziunas stepped in.
Picard turned to face him, a rage burning so hot in him that Graziunas unwillingly took a step back in deference, even though he towered a good two heads over the Enterprise captain.
"This is my ship," he said with barely controlled anger. His voice was carrying in the sudden silence, and various partygoers were starting to back up and give this sudden tension some room.
"I say who stays and who goes." Graziunas rallied and drew himself up.
"Starfleet says, Captain. And they say we're to be here, and I say that he's supposed to be here." "Picard," said Q calmly, never removing his eyes from Guinan. "We can settle this amicably." "Is that a fact?" "Yes. If you're so certain of your command over this ship, then try and make me leave." Q displayed a row of teeth and smiled in that incredibly irritating way that he had.
Worf chose that moment to make his entrance, backed up by four security guards. The crowd immediately parted as Worf knifed through them like a shark.
"Worf!" Q greeted him jovially. "Still struggling up the evolutionary ladder?" Worf stood before him, a snarl emerging from him.
Whereas the argument between Picard and Q was merely drawing a great deal of curiosity and interest from the partygoers, the sound of an angry Klingon, on the other hand, was more than enough to frighten a goodly number of people.
Virtually the only one who was not intimidated was Lwaxana Troi. She watched the entire confrontation unfold with overwhelming interest, and she never took her eyes off Q. Deanna was at her side now, and she took her mother's arm.
"Mother, come quickly," she said. She wasn't quite sure where she was intending to go. The power of the Q knew no boundaries, and there was certainly no place on the ship that she could bring her mother that would be safe. Nevertheless, she felt compelled to try and do something to safeguard her mother, even if it was something as trivial as getting her away from ground zero.
Lwaxana didn't budge. Nor did she stop watching Q. "I am fine, Little One.
Leave me be." "Mother, you don't understand the danger--to was Lwaxana made a dismissive gesture.
"I've never run from anything in my life. I'm not the least bit intimidated by the thought of danger." "But, mother--" "Hush," said Lwaxana in no uncertain terms.
Picard, in the meantime, was desperately trying to keep a lid on things. He had no idea how Worf had known to come down here, but it was exactly the situation he was hoping to avoid.
"Permission to bounce uninvited guest, Captain," rumbled Worf. His great hands flexed, clearly aching to reach over and throttle Q.
