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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17. A whole new world

..2265...

..Friday 8th...

I awake feeling uneasily stiff at the back of my neck. I push myself forwards only to feel a strange sizzle of pain in my neck. My eyes opened to a gray yet almost sandy yellow textured wall that had dust covering it. It had to be metal covered by yellow dust, probably. Oh wait, dust works differently for Scottyia. Anything that is made of rock is subjected to being covered in yellow dust. I feel around my neck.

Metal.

My head hit the floor and my body briefly felt paralyzed.

"Scottyonians," I muttered rather hoarsely.

My right hand felt along a device.

It had roughly the model of a phaser.

I looked over to see a holographic projection along with holo-emitters parked right at the corners of the room. I really should have made the ceiling have some taste in artwork instead of making it so bland, ugly, and unlikable. I saw the symbol of the Q continuum in the dead center right where I placed long ago. Usually the Q leave behind stamps on whatever obvious item can be in the line of sight. I was an idiot to think of the ceiling.

I should have made a great wooden plank that never aged and never got damaged along with my proclamation that it belongs to the continuum in the Vulcan language.

You see, some Q would leave their stamps on the planet surface. Imagine a great big stamp from outer space in the mountains, a desert, or in a area that once had millions of trees until it was obliterated by the stamp. The stamp can vary in size; huge, medium, and small. Huge as in the size of a obvious scar on the planet surface from space. Medium as in the size of a UFO image in a cornfield. Small as in the size of a monster truck wheel. My stamp is the size of a Great Dane and that is considerably much smaller than the monster truck wheel.

A screen appeared on the wall across.

"When the former power source wakes up,you'll have to get on or else you'll die 5,000 years in the past," Ella explained.

"...5,000 YEARS?" I raised my voice in horror.

"The previous power source will help you," Ella continued.

"Ella, you are mad!" I exclaimed. "This planet was not made to rely off life energy."

Ella smiled.

"This is a recording set for you, creator," Ella said. "We believe your life...Unlike human life...will make our planet live for another 30,000 years."

The past is tricky for Scottyia. I designed the whole past to be behind about 5,000 years and yet it would still affect the present that way the genius species could create new ideas and when they developed warp drive; these ideas can be put forward into the advanced era. The past continuously has the future updates to the latest artifact left behind. In a way the term 'New discoveries are made every day' is made to the truth.

"Madness," I said.

"You have a metal brace and it is meant to be tight as the one we are born with," Ella said. "We want you to feel what misery you put us in when we get sick or our necks are swollen!" I did not recall intending them to have neck collars. "In your very waking moments the magnetic field below you will be the one preventing you from getting up. It will be down once the old power source has awakened. You will save our planet."

"This planet used to be quite fine until your great geniuses screwed up," I said.

"Good luck," Ella added.

The image blinked away.

I felt sick at how people were referred to as 'Power sources'. What good would I do? My life energy as a human would last preferably for at least five thousand some years without the use of a human body, a brain, or a heart. I had to wonder how a entire body could last for five thousand years in this lone gray temple that seemingly is isolated. I didn't want to die. So assuming that Kirk has ordered the Enterprise after the Scottyonian ship, they are headed this way five thousand years from now. I did a mathematical equation in my mind on how this problem can be fixed and get me out of this ugly place.

It could work.

It had to work.

I have to write this in Vulcan to a degree that only one person in the known universe could read it. A bit of French in it and a bit of Vulcan. Only one person who is both Vulcan and adores the French culture is John-Luc Picard. This will work, I thought holding up the phaser right at the wall. My hand is trembling. I felt scared. I want to save myself, naturally. Never being able to see what happens 101 years from 2265 is a horrible thought. A boring depressing thought.

John-Luc had to be there.

Only the Vulcan-French text would make sense to him.

Well, Picard will be there. He had to be part of the landing party. Somehow they will be lead to this temple. I finished off the carving by making a picture of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D below the text in a clear section that lacked images. The Enterprise D is different from the original Enterprise in terms of shape. Only John-Luc knows the design of the Enterprise D by heart.

The War Enterprise, that is.

Only Jea---John-Luc and I know.

 

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