Time of the Enterprises

A story where Q is sent to the Original Enterprise in 2265. Exiled, really. In a timeline that does not require any Prime Directives from the Q. Who says there isn't reasons why a Q should get the taste of their own medicine? This takes place shortly after the events of 'Mirror,Mirror'. This is told in Q's perspective.

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51. A lot of thoughts

...December 24th...

..2267...Planet Colo...4:52 PM...

Why hadn't I thought of a genetic virus in the first place? That was my first thought upon seeing the blue underside of a sheet. I lift myself up letting the sheet fall on my lap. I notice I am bare naked. I pinch my forehead closing my eyes briefly. I notice I lacked a right arm, but instead had a built in prosthetic right arm.

What was I thinking in September?

I was thinking of the war against the tech puppies, I was thinking how to fight against these no-good-piece-of-trash technological beings, I was concerned about the well fare of others, and sometimes my thoughts drifted off to John-Luc. I admit: I was busy. I looked around the room searching for a hangar, coat rack, or some folded clothes. I looked around on the table for some button to press. Anything!

Anything such as...A AI computer.

Why that's stupid, why would anyone make a AI computer so late? Those kind of things would be possible in the 2300's. I remember attending the first press release for the very first replicator that made whatever the speaker wanted. The Ferengi's speaker replicator came first before humanity. Klingon's and Romulans; eh, they didn't make the invention very famous on their home-worlds after it was first introduced. In one timeline they publicized it so much that a entire civilization called The Cipallons deactivated the two planet's replicators for a entire year. Nobody knew who until two decades later when a couple documents were declassified. The Federation jumped right in between the conflict and waved a flag to let things cool down between the three sides. The steam cooled down five months later, so the Romulans and Klingons decided to keep their pride to themselves from then on.

It was actually a member of Earth who made the problem.

He was a very skilled hacker.

Anyway, let's get back to the story.

Back in September I hadn't the equipment to combat against the tech puppies. I notice I am completely alone in this room. Three minutes? It hasn't been three minutes. Well, actually, time is non-linear to the Q so it feels like minutes when we skip through chronological events. Sometimes we start backwards when unwrapping the ball of a unusual event which happened and just pop right in randomly to witness it unfold! It is really fun doing that! But never do we interfere. Well, except for me! Now, I have interfered in more 'lethal' events than I can count as a former Q. I wouldn't have fun if I obeyed the rules to a tea. To Trelane, in a nutshell, it is only minutes for him.

I saw nearby a basic wheelchair.

"Just my luck," I said.

I managed to drag the wheelchair right over.

Note to self: Find some decent clothes to get on.

Venture around this unknown room, I thought, or building. Whichever I am in.

I wheeled my way to the first door to my right. The door wouldn't budge. I frowned wheeling backwards in the room. I turned around toward the other side of the room facing the other machinery left out. I felt around my head to feel metal. Something metal with rounded tough bumps and Kartibioniet Crystals installed. Kartibionet Crystals happen to be double edged, solid yet soft, and make a certain melody when someone has touched them so due to their melodic reputation some native planet residents desire them to juice up their collection.

Kartibionet Crystals are located on a mining planet that has both humans and Horta's working together. Horta's are friendly molten lava like creatures that reproduce once after almost all the population are dead. One Horta reproduces a thousand plus eggs, then it cares for the hatchlings once they have hatched and instructs them what to do. It is quite genius really; one trusted adult to raise a whole population. I was being sarcastic. It would be more responsible to have a couple adults around not just one. One can't do the job enough and get the urgency of the matter across.

I take the head device off around my head discarding it to the floor.

How long had I been dead?

I went over to the nearby computer and checked the date. I stared at the screen once seeing the green text slide on the screen. Normally humans wouldn't care what tomorrow is but there are many who do give a rat's rear such as me. Christmas used to mean for a culture I vaguely remember to sacrifice its children but along the way it became the time of giving and Cocola decided to market it off by creating the Santa Clause millions of humans are aware of; big belly,rosy cheeks, white hair, big red and white coat,and the bag that never ended. He looked old in consistent tales later on after Cocola's campaign. The only thing nowadays Cocola is remembered for is the Arctic Bear commercials and those white/red bottles. I knew a Q who was a big time Cocola collector.

Unlike how I portray myself around the Enterprise D crew: I do care about  Christmas.

It is one of my favorite holidays in fact.

It has been three months.

Three months since my unexpected death.

I wonder how Picard has been holding up.

"All right,Quarty," I told myself. "Let's find some clothes before you start searching for information regarding this...Current situation."

I saw a ajar typical door from the 21st century to my left beside a closed and steel door that is 21st century. I know my centuries and they are both distinctively different in the matters of doors opening. For example: the doors on Enterprise D require permission to open while original Enterprise does not. The turbo lift doors still open and close as usual but they don't have those bar handles anymore and they still do require a comment about where they are headed to. Everyone thinks I don't notice; but I do notice these differences!

I pulled the door open to see a collection of shirts, pants, shoes, and all the good stuff. Oh yes, there were even socks and boxers that were decorated in rocks. No, I am just pulling your leg. They were all white, sadly. I leaned forward grabbing a change of clothes putting them into my lap. Now here comes the most difficult part that I really dread everyday: getting my pants on.

Getting boxers on (being paralyzed) is quite easily done.

Pants?

No, they are so not easy.

So I started with the shirt first,then the boxers, and the socks. I wondered often how paralyzed people in the 21st century were able to get dressed. They probably had some help with their loved ones. One cannot stress how difficult it is to get your pants on when your legs are paralyzed. I should have picked the shorts. I really should have but being arrogant comes at its cost.

I returned to the machine.

I opened the file to what recently had transpired.

 

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