Originally posted on fanfiction.net - Link.
Note: This story takes place immediately after the episode "Veritas".
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Q the Craziness
“‘Good company, good wine, good welcome, can make good people’,” Mariner quoted from memory while glancing over her shoulder. “None of which applies to you in any way, shape or form!”
“Really, Mariner. There’s no need for such boorish, shallow displays of self-projection,” Q smiled following Mariner, Boimler, Tendi and Rutherford down the corridor while dressed as a judge and sitting in his floating throne-like chair. “That’s your whole deal, isn’t it? Splattering and labeling others in puerile attempts to deflect from your own deep-rooted sense of fear and self-loathing…”
“Stop it, Q!” Boimler interjected. “Leave Mariner alone. And the rest of us for that matter. You’ve done enough.”
“Au contraire, Purple Hair,” Q smirked snapping his fingers and appearing dressed in a Starfleet uniform. “I’ve only just begun. Hmmm, yet another unimaginative wardrobe pastiche. And I thought your previous collections of bipedal monkey suits were bad.”
“Shut up, Q!” Mariner snapped. “Make like Meridian and disappear!”
“Or do what you usually do and go bother the Cerritos’ senior officers,” Boimler suggested.
“Them? Pshaw,” Q scoffed. “Those third-rate dolts are even duller than a dish of Oprelian amoeba. Bland, dreary, one-dimensional, no distinguishable intelligence…”
“Hey, Doctor T’Ana and the others are very intelligent!” Tendi defended in protest. “They all have personalities and character as good or better than anyone else!”
“Yeah!” Rutherford agreed. “Nobody bad-mouths Billups and gets away with it!”
“Guys! Stop feeding the annoying omnipotent entity with attention,” Mariner said. “He’s only doing this to get a rise out of us. Just block him out.”
“Ooooh, what an absolutely brilliant stratagem of yours,” Q mocked switching into a Napoleonic marshal uniform. “Treating me like a freeloading family relation, a black sheep, an unsightly splotch of paint. Ignoring me in the vain hope that I’ll simply go away. You must use the same methodology on every other problem you encounter. Which explains why this Bulgallian rat-trap of a ship is on the verge of falling apart…”
“Hey!” Rutherford and Tendi yelped in indignation.
“Did you really have to say that?” Boimler glared at Q.
“No, but I said it anyway,” Q quipped cheekily changing back into a Starfleet uniform. “Sheesh, you people are so pitiably sensitive. And here I thought Picard was self-centered. Always complaining and overreacting about the silliest details. ‘My ship, my crew, my chair, my fish…’”
“Guys. Do. Not. Respond,” Mariner said pointedly walking past Q. “Like I’ve told almost every one of Ransom’s dates: stop wasting your time ‘cause he clearly ain’t worth it.”
“Right, sorry,” Boimler apologized following Mariner’s example. “From now on, no more talk or interactions involving Q.”
“Yeah, even I think encountering Q comes at too high a price,” Tendi stated and pretended to look around. “Q? What Q? I don’t see Q around here, do you?”
“Nope, not at all,” Rutherford whistled innocently. “Not a flash or trace of Q in sight. Not than sensors have ever managed to detect him before…”
“Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play it, huh?” Q’s eyes twinkled impishly. “Well then, my pip-deficient picayunes, let’s see your noble gas-like non-reactions to this.”
FLASH!
“Huh?” Boimler blinked to find he and his friends had abruptly been turned into Antedeans. “Gaaauuuggghhhhhh!"
“Or this,” Q grinned snapping his fingers.
FLASH!
“Kruuugggh?” A large, fearsome saber bear suddenly appeared in the corridor. “ROOOAAARRR!”
“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” The four ensigns yelled.
“Or this,” Q snapped his fingers once more.
FLASH!
“---!” The Lower Deckers screamed silently as they found themselves hurdling through space towards the fiery corona of a colossal red giant. “---!”
FLASH!
“Well?” Q smirked returning the four restored and unharmed officers back aboard the Cerritos. “Where’s all your supposed, sangfroid now? Are you still going to make feeble attempts at ignoring little ol’ me?”
“Okay! Okay! We give up! You win!” Boimler babbled quickly while frantically checking he was indeed human once again.
“Of course I win,” Q grinned creating a squad of scanty-clad men and women to shower himself and the four ensigns with confetti. “Good to see you primitive intelligences finally admit it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Mariner grumbled. “So, what kind of stupid stunt are you gonna torment us with? Send us back in time to fight the Borg at Wolf 359?”
“Na, been there, done that, got the trading card,” Q waved whisking the confetti-tossing squad back to nothingness. “Retro games like that are mere nostalgic child’s play. I was thinking something more…imaginative…”
“Oh joy,” Boimler groaned. “Ugh, fine. We accept your offer at dueling, puzzle solving, chess, Pachisi, hopscotch, ultimate test, whatever.”
“You what? Ha!” Q let out a loud guffaw. “Please, don’t flatter yourselves. I never said humanity’s ultimate test would be undertaken by you.”
“Huh?” Rutherford paused from running a self-diagnostic on his implant. “But you said…”
“Did you really think you four insignificant nobodies would be selected to represent humanity?” Q chortled in amusement. “Don’t make me laugh. Oops, too late!”
“O-kay,” Tendi blinked in confusion.
“I’ve toyed with, crossed paths and matched wits with the very best humanity has to offer,” Q waxed fondly. “Picard, Riker, Sisko, Janeway, Spock. Okay, that last one is kind of questionable, but he’s half human so is still technically acceptable…”
“And they’ve bested you every time,” Mariner pointed out wickedly. “Literally, figuratively, mentally, physically…”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Q sniffed haughty.
“Ha! Face it, Q!” Mariner taunted. “Picard and the others have repeatedly kicked your butt! It’s humanity undefeated; Q a big fat zero!”
“Do not talk about 0,” Q warned darkly. “You know not of which you speak…”
“Okay,” Boimler blinked at Q’s unexpected seriousness. “But you still have to admit you’ve never actually won against Picard, Sisko or the others.”
“They’ve simply been lucky a few times,” Q waved airily. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Then why aren’t you bothering them?” Tendi asked curiously.
“Because my little green friend, humanity is more than just a few questionably exceptional individuals,” Q waved grandly. “No matter how much primitive minds attempt to believe it were true.”
“You have a point,” Rutherford admitted.
“After all, a chain is only as strong as its weakest link,” Q continued. “And the raggedy lot aboard this sorry excuse for a vessel are certainly among the worst and weakest of all.”
“You’ve obviously never been to Starbase 80,” Mariner quipped.
“Dang, Starbase 80?” Rutherford gasped.
“I still don’t get it,” Tendi frowned. “If we’re so weak, why even bother with us? Why bother with me? I’m not human.”
“As a former, mediocre member of humanity once said, ‘Everybody’s human’,” Q chuckled at the quote. “Everybody but moi and associates, of course. Which makes interacting with you simpletons all the more apropos.”
“You mean we at least possess the potential to someday represent humanity’s best?” Boimler asked hopefully.
“Of course not!” Q scoffed switching into a set of research safety glasses and coat. “You trifle toddlers are mere control groups. Test subjects. Little lab mice whose sole purpose is to scurry about and be experimented on in order for greater beings to create, refine and work out a final product’s annoying bugs before it’s used on actually important recipients.”
“Oh,” Boimler deflated in disappointment.
“You barely-evolved, ignorant bipeds are hardly important at all,” Q commented casually changing back into a Starfleet uniform once more. “You’re just easily-forgotten spear carriers. Background fodder. Cheap sources of farcical comic relief sentenced to carry out the entirety of your brief, unmemorable existences solely for an unseen audience’s amusement.”
“That can’t be true!” Tendi protested. “Can it?”
“No way,” Rutherford assured her. “Thought I have to admit, it would explain a lot.”
“Quite an ironic thing to say coming from a poor man’s Data knockoff,” Q quipped at Rutherford. “So fond of explanations yet still completely oblivious to the elucidation, much less existence, of his own secrets.”
“Secrets?” Rutherford blinked. “What secrets?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Q proposed cryptically. “Perhaps I should help enlighten you with your interesting little enigma. First, you’ll have to be at death’s door so we can explore your own personal tapestry…”
“Uh,” Rutherford gulped nervously.
“Oh no you don’t!” Tendi shouted protectively jumping in front of Rutherford. “Leave Rutherford alone! He’s an open padd!”
“Yeah, Ruthy doesn’t have enough smarts to keep secrets,” Mariner added.
“That’s right!” Rutherford agreed. “Wait a second…”
“Oh dear! Such a dagger-sharp mind,” Q gasped at Tendi switching into a blood-soaked Roman toga à la Caesar. “You, my dear, have cut me to the quick. Why, if words were arrows, thy would have slain me on the spot!”
“Um,” Tendi stuttered.
“Why don’t we try targeting your killer secrets instead,” Q grinned twisting the proverbial knife while changing into a dark, hooded assassin’s outfit. “I bet some of them are simply to die for…”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tendi laughed anxiously. “Absolutely no idea at all! None!”
“Wanna bet?” Q leered at her.
“Q! Leave them alone!” Boimler stepped in. “Neither Tendi or Rutherford have any deep, dark secrets.”
“No, they’re just bright, shallow secrets,” Q quipped switching back into a Starfleet uniform. “Secrets you’re sure to find out all about later. But since you’re feeling primitively chivalrous, let’s switch to talking about your secrets instead.”
“Go ahead,” Boimler stated confidently. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Or really?” Q grinned wickedly. “Does this sound familiar? ‘I love you, Ms. Fluffy Puffy Boo-Boo…’”
“HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?!” Boimler yelped in horror.
“I am an omnipotent being,” Q gave him a look. “As your even more primitive ancestors used to say: ‘duh’.”
“Fluffy Puffy Boo-Boo?” Rutherford looked at Boimler curiously.
“Don’t say that name!” Boimler cried. “Er, I mean it’s a lie! All lies! Q lies all the time! Everyone knows that!”
“Is it a lie?” Q smirked flashing a colorful children’s book into existence titled ‘The (Up to Now) Embarrassing and Unremarkable Life and Yawns of Bradward Boimler’. “Because I have a perfect way to find out. Complete with pictures and holoimages…”
“NOOOOOOO!” Boimler wailed falling to his knees.
“Hey, quit it, Q!” Mariner snapped. “Nobody embarrasses weaselly ol’ Boims here except me!”
“Thank you,” Boimler blinked in both surprise and relief. “I think…”
“O Mariner. My Mariner,” Q lamented mockingly snapping the Book of Boimler back into oblivion. “Why are thou acting like a stiff-legged bore? Whatever happened to that wild, rebellious Mariner I’ve heard so much about?”
“She’s on a beer break,” Mariner shot back. “I may act like the cool, free-spirited bad girl of everyone’s envious dreams, but even I know where to draw the line!”
“But do you really? Really?” Q pressed. “Face it, Mariner. Deep down you’re just like me. Wild, arrogant, carefree. Seeking out mischief, chaos and amusement wherever you go.”
“There is a certain resemblance,” Rutherford blinked in realization.
“It’s uncanny,” Tendi added.
“Not helping, guys,” Mariner hissed. “Not helping!”
“See? Even your best friends agree we’re fellow imps-in-arms,” Q smirked. “So let’s shack up. Combine forces! Be each other’s irrepressible half! You might not be as good as my last human partner, but I’m willing to give it a try…”
“No, no, a billion times no!” Mariner snapped. “Flattery may get your everywhere except here and that’s final! Get lost!”
“Why should I do that?” Q grinned fixing Mariner with a devious look. “We still haven’t dived into any of your secrets yet. You have so many. Personal, professional, family…”
“THAT’S IT!” Mariner roared swiftly turning and heading for her bunk. “I’ve warned you, Q! You’re really in for it this time! You’re finally pushed me too far! You’ve even made me sound like my mom! Arrrggghhh!”
“Aw, how nauseatingly sweet,” Q smirked as he and the three other Lower Deckers followed after her. “Like mother, like daughter. A real chip off the old battle-axe. Speaking of which, remind us exactly who your dear, shrill-sounding mother is again…?”
“Yeah, who is she?” Boimler asked curiously as Mariner frantically tore open her personal storage locker. “Not that I’m taking Q’s side or anything…”
“Trust me, Boims. You won’t want to be on Q’s side in a moment,” Mariner warned quickly digging through her locker before turning around. “Last chance, Q. Get lost while you still can.”
“Ooooh, I so scared,” Q mocked holding up his hands. “What are you going to do, spritz holy water on me?”
“No, this!” Mariner held up an ordinary-looking poker chip and swiftly snapped it between her fingers.
“Wow. Horrors. Shock of shocks,” Q deadpanned as absolutely nothing happened. “Whatever will I do?”
“I’ll answer that!”
“Huh?” Rutherford blinked as a striking, formidable-looking woman suddenly appeared in a flash of light.
“Oh no,” Q blanched. “Not you!”
“Of course I’m not U!” The woman roared rounding on him. “I’m Q!”
“You’re Q too?” Tendi asked.
“No, Q2 is someone else,” The woman clarified. “Or two different Qs depending on who you ask.”
“O-kay,” Tendi looked very confused.
“Q! Please! Darling!” Q gulped at the new arrival.
“Don’t darling me, you Gorokian toad!” The other Q snapped grabbing him by the ear. “What has the Continuum told you about interfering with primitive, miniscule minded mortals?”
“Hey,” Boimler looked offended.
“But dearest. It was just a joke,” Q yelped squirming in her grasp. “Simple fun and games.”
“I’ll show you a game!” The other Q roared tightening her grip. “How about I carry out the threats I made after you ran off with that previous bipedal female?”
“No! Not all three million, six hundred thousand and seventy-two threats!” Q paled. “Please! You misunderstand! You’re the only Q for me! See?” Q frantically snapped his fingers.
“Huh?” Rutherford blinked finding himself and his three friends dressed in 1950’s rock and roll suits and playing a quartet of musical instruments.
“Lady Q! Lady Q! Oh, how my heart yearns for you!” An unwilling Boimler sang while wailing on an electric guitar and wearing a pair of thick, horn-rimmed glasses. “Oh Lady! My Lady Q-ooo-ooo! Oh, well I love ya, gal! Yes, I love you Lady Q!”
“Enough!” The aforementioned Lady Q declared snapping her fingers restoring the four Lower Deckers to normal. “And I thought you were infuriating before.” She glanced over at Mariner and indicated Q with her chin. “I presume you want me to remove this Alverian dung beetle from your presence?”
“And how,” Mariner nodded affirmatively. “He’s all yours, Lady.”
“Don’t remind me,” Lady Q grumbled. “Consider my debt paid in full.” Lady Q shot a final death glare at Q before yanking hard on his ear once more. “You are in such big trouble, mister!”
“OWOWOWOWOW!” Q wailed in agony. “HELP! GAAAHHHHHH! NO, DON’T KICK ME THERE! YEEOOOWWW! UNCLE! UNCLE!”
“Huh?” Boimler gasped at Mariner as the two Qs vanished in twin flashes of light. “Wait, what did she mean by repaying a debt?”
“Eh, she lost a bet,” Mariner shrugged. “I just cashed in the chit. No biggie.”
“You’ve saying you were owed a favor by a Q?” Rutherford gawked.
“More or less,” Mariner cursed as the broken poker chip disappeared as well. “I’d been saving it for an emergency. Or an impulsive, indulgent endorphin rush…”
“Well I’m very grateful that you selflessly used your Q favor to get rid of Q,” Tendi said. “A favor like that is beyond priceless.”
“Selflessly. Right,” Mariner coughed. “That’s me. Humbly Awesome Miss Selflessness.”
“But what bet did you make that merited a such favor in the first place?” Boimler asked curiously. “And how did you win?”
“I’ll tell ya later, Boims. Maybe,” Mariner sighed throwing herself onto her bunk. “Right now, I just want a little Me time to rest and chill out.”
FLASH!
“Hey! What’s up, bipeds?” A dashing, handsome young man appeared wearing board shorts, floral Hawaiian shirt and holding a tropical drink in each hand. “Mom and Dad are away so it’s time to par-tay! Q is in the house!”
“Oh no!” Boimler cried and began repeatedly banging his head against a bulkhead. “Oh no, no, no!”
“Oh boy,” Rutherford whistled. “Here we go again.”
“Uh, maybe we should let the Cerritos’ senior officers handle this one,” Tendi gulped as the corridor was suddenly covered in flowers, laser lights, music and flaming torches six feet high.
“I miss the eels,” Mariner sighed.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks or the song "Peggy Sue".
Note: This story takes place immediately after the episode "Veritas".
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Q the Craziness
“‘Good company, good wine, good welcome, can make good people’,” Mariner quoted from memory while glancing over her shoulder. “None of which applies to you in any way, shape or form!”
“Really, Mariner. There’s no need for such boorish, shallow displays of self-projection,” Q smiled following Mariner, Boimler, Tendi and Rutherford down the corridor while dressed as a judge and sitting in his floating throne-like chair. “That’s your whole deal, isn’t it? Splattering and labeling others in puerile attempts to deflect from your own deep-rooted sense of fear and self-loathing…”
“Stop it, Q!” Boimler interjected. “Leave Mariner alone. And the rest of us for that matter. You’ve done enough.”
“Au contraire, Purple Hair,” Q smirked snapping his fingers and appearing dressed in a Starfleet uniform. “I’ve only just begun. Hmmm, yet another unimaginative wardrobe pastiche. And I thought your previous collections of bipedal monkey suits were bad.”
“Shut up, Q!” Mariner snapped. “Make like Meridian and disappear!”
“Or do what you usually do and go bother the Cerritos’ senior officers,” Boimler suggested.
“Them? Pshaw,” Q scoffed. “Those third-rate dolts are even duller than a dish of Oprelian amoeba. Bland, dreary, one-dimensional, no distinguishable intelligence…”
“Hey, Doctor T’Ana and the others are very intelligent!” Tendi defended in protest. “They all have personalities and character as good or better than anyone else!”
“Yeah!” Rutherford agreed. “Nobody bad-mouths Billups and gets away with it!”
“Guys! Stop feeding the annoying omnipotent entity with attention,” Mariner said. “He’s only doing this to get a rise out of us. Just block him out.”
“Ooooh, what an absolutely brilliant stratagem of yours,” Q mocked switching into a Napoleonic marshal uniform. “Treating me like a freeloading family relation, a black sheep, an unsightly splotch of paint. Ignoring me in the vain hope that I’ll simply go away. You must use the same methodology on every other problem you encounter. Which explains why this Bulgallian rat-trap of a ship is on the verge of falling apart…”
“Hey!” Rutherford and Tendi yelped in indignation.
“Did you really have to say that?” Boimler glared at Q.
“No, but I said it anyway,” Q quipped cheekily changing back into a Starfleet uniform. “Sheesh, you people are so pitiably sensitive. And here I thought Picard was self-centered. Always complaining and overreacting about the silliest details. ‘My ship, my crew, my chair, my fish…’”
“Guys. Do. Not. Respond,” Mariner said pointedly walking past Q. “Like I’ve told almost every one of Ransom’s dates: stop wasting your time ‘cause he clearly ain’t worth it.”
“Right, sorry,” Boimler apologized following Mariner’s example. “From now on, no more talk or interactions involving Q.”
“Yeah, even I think encountering Q comes at too high a price,” Tendi stated and pretended to look around. “Q? What Q? I don’t see Q around here, do you?”
“Nope, not at all,” Rutherford whistled innocently. “Not a flash or trace of Q in sight. Not than sensors have ever managed to detect him before…”
“Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play it, huh?” Q’s eyes twinkled impishly. “Well then, my pip-deficient picayunes, let’s see your noble gas-like non-reactions to this.”
FLASH!
“Huh?” Boimler blinked to find he and his friends had abruptly been turned into Antedeans. “Gaaauuuggghhhhhh!"
“Or this,” Q grinned snapping his fingers.
FLASH!
“Kruuugggh?” A large, fearsome saber bear suddenly appeared in the corridor. “ROOOAAARRR!”
“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” The four ensigns yelled.
“Or this,” Q snapped his fingers once more.
FLASH!
“---!” The Lower Deckers screamed silently as they found themselves hurdling through space towards the fiery corona of a colossal red giant. “---!”
FLASH!
“Well?” Q smirked returning the four restored and unharmed officers back aboard the Cerritos. “Where’s all your supposed, sangfroid now? Are you still going to make feeble attempts at ignoring little ol’ me?”
“Okay! Okay! We give up! You win!” Boimler babbled quickly while frantically checking he was indeed human once again.
“Of course I win,” Q grinned creating a squad of scanty-clad men and women to shower himself and the four ensigns with confetti. “Good to see you primitive intelligences finally admit it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Mariner grumbled. “So, what kind of stupid stunt are you gonna torment us with? Send us back in time to fight the Borg at Wolf 359?”
“Na, been there, done that, got the trading card,” Q waved whisking the confetti-tossing squad back to nothingness. “Retro games like that are mere nostalgic child’s play. I was thinking something more…imaginative…”
“Oh joy,” Boimler groaned. “Ugh, fine. We accept your offer at dueling, puzzle solving, chess, Pachisi, hopscotch, ultimate test, whatever.”
“You what? Ha!” Q let out a loud guffaw. “Please, don’t flatter yourselves. I never said humanity’s ultimate test would be undertaken by you.”
“Huh?” Rutherford paused from running a self-diagnostic on his implant. “But you said…”
“Did you really think you four insignificant nobodies would be selected to represent humanity?” Q chortled in amusement. “Don’t make me laugh. Oops, too late!”
“O-kay,” Tendi blinked in confusion.
“I’ve toyed with, crossed paths and matched wits with the very best humanity has to offer,” Q waxed fondly. “Picard, Riker, Sisko, Janeway, Spock. Okay, that last one is kind of questionable, but he’s half human so is still technically acceptable…”
“And they’ve bested you every time,” Mariner pointed out wickedly. “Literally, figuratively, mentally, physically…”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Q sniffed haughty.
“Ha! Face it, Q!” Mariner taunted. “Picard and the others have repeatedly kicked your butt! It’s humanity undefeated; Q a big fat zero!”
“Do not talk about 0,” Q warned darkly. “You know not of which you speak…”
“Okay,” Boimler blinked at Q’s unexpected seriousness. “But you still have to admit you’ve never actually won against Picard, Sisko or the others.”
“They’ve simply been lucky a few times,” Q waved airily. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Then why aren’t you bothering them?” Tendi asked curiously.
“Because my little green friend, humanity is more than just a few questionably exceptional individuals,” Q waved grandly. “No matter how much primitive minds attempt to believe it were true.”
“You have a point,” Rutherford admitted.
“After all, a chain is only as strong as its weakest link,” Q continued. “And the raggedy lot aboard this sorry excuse for a vessel are certainly among the worst and weakest of all.”
“You’ve obviously never been to Starbase 80,” Mariner quipped.
“Dang, Starbase 80?” Rutherford gasped.
“I still don’t get it,” Tendi frowned. “If we’re so weak, why even bother with us? Why bother with me? I’m not human.”
“As a former, mediocre member of humanity once said, ‘Everybody’s human’,” Q chuckled at the quote. “Everybody but moi and associates, of course. Which makes interacting with you simpletons all the more apropos.”
“You mean we at least possess the potential to someday represent humanity’s best?” Boimler asked hopefully.
“Of course not!” Q scoffed switching into a set of research safety glasses and coat. “You trifle toddlers are mere control groups. Test subjects. Little lab mice whose sole purpose is to scurry about and be experimented on in order for greater beings to create, refine and work out a final product’s annoying bugs before it’s used on actually important recipients.”
“Oh,” Boimler deflated in disappointment.
“You barely-evolved, ignorant bipeds are hardly important at all,” Q commented casually changing back into a Starfleet uniform once more. “You’re just easily-forgotten spear carriers. Background fodder. Cheap sources of farcical comic relief sentenced to carry out the entirety of your brief, unmemorable existences solely for an unseen audience’s amusement.”
“That can’t be true!” Tendi protested. “Can it?”
“No way,” Rutherford assured her. “Thought I have to admit, it would explain a lot.”
“Quite an ironic thing to say coming from a poor man’s Data knockoff,” Q quipped at Rutherford. “So fond of explanations yet still completely oblivious to the elucidation, much less existence, of his own secrets.”
“Secrets?” Rutherford blinked. “What secrets?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Q proposed cryptically. “Perhaps I should help enlighten you with your interesting little enigma. First, you’ll have to be at death’s door so we can explore your own personal tapestry…”
“Uh,” Rutherford gulped nervously.
“Oh no you don’t!” Tendi shouted protectively jumping in front of Rutherford. “Leave Rutherford alone! He’s an open padd!”
“Yeah, Ruthy doesn’t have enough smarts to keep secrets,” Mariner added.
“That’s right!” Rutherford agreed. “Wait a second…”
“Oh dear! Such a dagger-sharp mind,” Q gasped at Tendi switching into a blood-soaked Roman toga à la Caesar. “You, my dear, have cut me to the quick. Why, if words were arrows, thy would have slain me on the spot!”
“Um,” Tendi stuttered.
“Why don’t we try targeting your killer secrets instead,” Q grinned twisting the proverbial knife while changing into a dark, hooded assassin’s outfit. “I bet some of them are simply to die for…”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tendi laughed anxiously. “Absolutely no idea at all! None!”
“Wanna bet?” Q leered at her.
“Q! Leave them alone!” Boimler stepped in. “Neither Tendi or Rutherford have any deep, dark secrets.”
“No, they’re just bright, shallow secrets,” Q quipped switching back into a Starfleet uniform. “Secrets you’re sure to find out all about later. But since you’re feeling primitively chivalrous, let’s switch to talking about your secrets instead.”
“Go ahead,” Boimler stated confidently. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Or really?” Q grinned wickedly. “Does this sound familiar? ‘I love you, Ms. Fluffy Puffy Boo-Boo…’”
“HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?!” Boimler yelped in horror.
“I am an omnipotent being,” Q gave him a look. “As your even more primitive ancestors used to say: ‘duh’.”
“Fluffy Puffy Boo-Boo?” Rutherford looked at Boimler curiously.
“Don’t say that name!” Boimler cried. “Er, I mean it’s a lie! All lies! Q lies all the time! Everyone knows that!”
“Is it a lie?” Q smirked flashing a colorful children’s book into existence titled ‘The (Up to Now) Embarrassing and Unremarkable Life and Yawns of Bradward Boimler’. “Because I have a perfect way to find out. Complete with pictures and holoimages…”
“NOOOOOOO!” Boimler wailed falling to his knees.
“Hey, quit it, Q!” Mariner snapped. “Nobody embarrasses weaselly ol’ Boims here except me!”
“Thank you,” Boimler blinked in both surprise and relief. “I think…”
“O Mariner. My Mariner,” Q lamented mockingly snapping the Book of Boimler back into oblivion. “Why are thou acting like a stiff-legged bore? Whatever happened to that wild, rebellious Mariner I’ve heard so much about?”
“She’s on a beer break,” Mariner shot back. “I may act like the cool, free-spirited bad girl of everyone’s envious dreams, but even I know where to draw the line!”
“But do you really? Really?” Q pressed. “Face it, Mariner. Deep down you’re just like me. Wild, arrogant, carefree. Seeking out mischief, chaos and amusement wherever you go.”
“There is a certain resemblance,” Rutherford blinked in realization.
“It’s uncanny,” Tendi added.
“Not helping, guys,” Mariner hissed. “Not helping!”
“See? Even your best friends agree we’re fellow imps-in-arms,” Q smirked. “So let’s shack up. Combine forces! Be each other’s irrepressible half! You might not be as good as my last human partner, but I’m willing to give it a try…”
“No, no, a billion times no!” Mariner snapped. “Flattery may get your everywhere except here and that’s final! Get lost!”
“Why should I do that?” Q grinned fixing Mariner with a devious look. “We still haven’t dived into any of your secrets yet. You have so many. Personal, professional, family…”
“THAT’S IT!” Mariner roared swiftly turning and heading for her bunk. “I’ve warned you, Q! You’re really in for it this time! You’re finally pushed me too far! You’ve even made me sound like my mom! Arrrggghhh!”
“Aw, how nauseatingly sweet,” Q smirked as he and the three other Lower Deckers followed after her. “Like mother, like daughter. A real chip off the old battle-axe. Speaking of which, remind us exactly who your dear, shrill-sounding mother is again…?”
“Yeah, who is she?” Boimler asked curiously as Mariner frantically tore open her personal storage locker. “Not that I’m taking Q’s side or anything…”
“Trust me, Boims. You won’t want to be on Q’s side in a moment,” Mariner warned quickly digging through her locker before turning around. “Last chance, Q. Get lost while you still can.”
“Ooooh, I so scared,” Q mocked holding up his hands. “What are you going to do, spritz holy water on me?”
“No, this!” Mariner held up an ordinary-looking poker chip and swiftly snapped it between her fingers.
“Wow. Horrors. Shock of shocks,” Q deadpanned as absolutely nothing happened. “Whatever will I do?”
“I’ll answer that!”
“Huh?” Rutherford blinked as a striking, formidable-looking woman suddenly appeared in a flash of light.
“Oh no,” Q blanched. “Not you!”
“Of course I’m not U!” The woman roared rounding on him. “I’m Q!”
“You’re Q too?” Tendi asked.
“No, Q2 is someone else,” The woman clarified. “Or two different Qs depending on who you ask.”
“O-kay,” Tendi looked very confused.
“Q! Please! Darling!” Q gulped at the new arrival.
“Don’t darling me, you Gorokian toad!” The other Q snapped grabbing him by the ear. “What has the Continuum told you about interfering with primitive, miniscule minded mortals?”
“Hey,” Boimler looked offended.
“But dearest. It was just a joke,” Q yelped squirming in her grasp. “Simple fun and games.”
“I’ll show you a game!” The other Q roared tightening her grip. “How about I carry out the threats I made after you ran off with that previous bipedal female?”
“No! Not all three million, six hundred thousand and seventy-two threats!” Q paled. “Please! You misunderstand! You’re the only Q for me! See?” Q frantically snapped his fingers.
“Huh?” Rutherford blinked finding himself and his three friends dressed in 1950’s rock and roll suits and playing a quartet of musical instruments.
“Lady Q! Lady Q! Oh, how my heart yearns for you!” An unwilling Boimler sang while wailing on an electric guitar and wearing a pair of thick, horn-rimmed glasses. “Oh Lady! My Lady Q-ooo-ooo! Oh, well I love ya, gal! Yes, I love you Lady Q!”
“Enough!” The aforementioned Lady Q declared snapping her fingers restoring the four Lower Deckers to normal. “And I thought you were infuriating before.” She glanced over at Mariner and indicated Q with her chin. “I presume you want me to remove this Alverian dung beetle from your presence?”
“And how,” Mariner nodded affirmatively. “He’s all yours, Lady.”
“Don’t remind me,” Lady Q grumbled. “Consider my debt paid in full.” Lady Q shot a final death glare at Q before yanking hard on his ear once more. “You are in such big trouble, mister!”
“OWOWOWOWOW!” Q wailed in agony. “HELP! GAAAHHHHHH! NO, DON’T KICK ME THERE! YEEOOOWWW! UNCLE! UNCLE!”
“Huh?” Boimler gasped at Mariner as the two Qs vanished in twin flashes of light. “Wait, what did she mean by repaying a debt?”
“Eh, she lost a bet,” Mariner shrugged. “I just cashed in the chit. No biggie.”
“You’ve saying you were owed a favor by a Q?” Rutherford gawked.
“More or less,” Mariner cursed as the broken poker chip disappeared as well. “I’d been saving it for an emergency. Or an impulsive, indulgent endorphin rush…”
“Well I’m very grateful that you selflessly used your Q favor to get rid of Q,” Tendi said. “A favor like that is beyond priceless.”
“Selflessly. Right,” Mariner coughed. “That’s me. Humbly Awesome Miss Selflessness.”
“But what bet did you make that merited a such favor in the first place?” Boimler asked curiously. “And how did you win?”
“I’ll tell ya later, Boims. Maybe,” Mariner sighed throwing herself onto her bunk. “Right now, I just want a little Me time to rest and chill out.”
FLASH!
“Hey! What’s up, bipeds?” A dashing, handsome young man appeared wearing board shorts, floral Hawaiian shirt and holding a tropical drink in each hand. “Mom and Dad are away so it’s time to par-tay! Q is in the house!”
“Oh no!” Boimler cried and began repeatedly banging his head against a bulkhead. “Oh no, no, no!”
“Oh boy,” Rutherford whistled. “Here we go again.”
“Uh, maybe we should let the Cerritos’ senior officers handle this one,” Tendi gulped as the corridor was suddenly covered in flowers, laser lights, music and flaming torches six feet high.
“I miss the eels,” Mariner sighed.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks or the song "Peggy Sue".
