The truth is right there

A story featuring the X-Files, John-Luc Picard, and a man who is a Terminator. This takes place in 1992. The X-Files takes place in a reality where Star Trek is fictional but what if there was a twist? A twist that mostly would sound like a lunatic's rambling to Scully. A twist that leads a Terminator who resembles Q to appear? Well, it all starts one day when a T-800 was beamed aboard the Enterprise . . .


15. Choices

Everyone makes choices to have their heart ripped apart over and over again.

I never understood why people in a doomed relationship got back together numerous times.

Then at the end they somehow fix it and have a family. From being purely the observer and not the one participating in it; I can see cracks in a relationship that otherwise would not be seen by the normal eye. Those glances to one another. The looks on the couple's face when someone says the word 'secrets', 'hurt','betrayal'. Their hands squeezing tightly together as though some form of hell is going to tear them apart: again.

What is it that brings them back together?

Is it the "I am sorry.", "I love you, and I am sorry for what I said.","I didn't mean it.","You are the prettiest woman on the block.","What I said wasn't true.", "I love you because I need you." and "My world is a empty void of nothingness without you. Forgive me." Maybe their apologies are made promising because of the sincere on the person's face. Sometimes I see these doomed relationships tear apart and most of the time the couple go their separate ways.

"Qreg, what do you suppose you'll be doing a month for now?" Data asked.

"I haven't gave it much thought," I said. "Perhaps. . . I will be doing what I do best."

"Which is?" Data asked.

"Watching out for humanity," I said. "As usual."

Data had a short laugh.

"I think you deserve a vacation from doing what you do," Data said. "A machine needs rest."

"I cannot rest," I said, matter in factly. "I am quite content with what I do."

Data sighed.

"You are the closest person I know who is a machine," Data said. "I often what it feels like to be a robot."

"You have a robotic brain," I said. "With infinite room."

"But that is not the same, Qreg." Data said, shaking his head.

I frowned.

"It is the same." I said.

"You can't eat. I can eat. You can't sleep. I can sleep. I can get rid of waste. You don't have waste!" Data said. "Now most people would envy you for that."

I had a dark look toward Data.

"You ask how it feels to be a robot . . ." I said. "It is hell. Hell, I say. Hell to have emotions."

"To be a machine means to experience humanity from a different view," Data said. "Made of metal, coated in human like additions, unable to eat, some rely on fuel/gas/some form of nutrition but not you, faster reflexes, durable strength, and extended lifetime. You have the privilage to save lives and regrow skin."

"But I don't want to be like a human!" I said. "I wish I never achieved sentience! I wish I never became aware of my morals and feelings! Look where it has got me! I am a complete wreck." I gestured over to myself. "Tell me. What is worth another day being a shattered man? If I could. . . If I could remove these emotions and have my morals at the same time then I gladly will take the android option. Emotions are optional for androids, don't you see that Data? You are capable of living as a human BECAUSE YOU ARE a human! I may have the male body parts to say I am a human! I may have the blood to say I am human! But I have a metal endoskeleton. I AM A MACHINE, Mr Data!" I threw my hands up in the air. "I gladly will give up emotions if there were a way!"

"Your arguing mannerisms are a lot like Captain James T Kirk." Data said.

I stared at Data.

"No," I said, after two minutes. "I do not argue like him."

"And if there were a way, would you exchange the chance to feel to become a cold hearted metal man without a heart?" Data asked.

"Data, don't put it that way," I said, feeling insulted. "I am a machine that has morals. I am not cold hearted. And second of all; I don't have a heart."

"Cold hearted mean to have no remorse," Data said. "And no understanding for the suffering one has gone through. You'll just be a machine with a blank face."

I looked at the man.

"That is my dream," I said. "Can you do it?"

"Skynet has made the perfect specimen," Data said, walking around me. "A face that many crewmembers last saw before being thrust into a bleak future, a moral shared by the strong spirit of Kirk," Data had his hands behind his back. "The gift of no hunger. The gift of disregarding lives. And you. . . You were sent to ensure Skynet's existence."

"I wasn't." I said

"Then who reprogrammed you?" Data asked,with the most personal question.

No one has asked me that in 200 years.

"Commander Spock of the planet Vulcan." I said, without hesitation.

"Is he dead. . ." Data asked, coming to a stop. "Or alive?"

I didn't answer.

"Dead or alive, Mr Qreg?" Data repeated, with a dark look on his face.


. . . 2150. . .

. . . Chicago, Illinois. . .

"Mr Spock?" Came a man's voice. "Are you sure about sending a Terminator?"

Spock, visibly aged by the war he had been part in, turned his head toward the young man.

"Skynet will no doubtedly attempt to make a work force to send directly to my home planet and others will follow," Spock said. "I cannot let the deaths of my colleagues go in vain." His voice had lowered. "If we do not send someone to prevent that . . . Then I will watch them send starships into the sky . . . Thousands fall. . . The Federation would fall. A whole quadrant taken over by machines. It is simply illogical to let that happen. It is only logical to be part of the resistance for humanity."

"I am sorry we got there too late for your friend." The young man said, almost in a whisper.

Spock turned his head away toward the computer screen.

"Your apology is accepted," Spock said. "Thomas . . . I highly recommend you go to safety."

"Where are you sending him?" Thomas said.

"1792," Spock said. "Further into the past. So far enough Skynet will not easily find him."

"But they will find him." Thomas said.

"They think they will," Spock said. "But . . ." Spock looked over to the young man. "If they interrogated my captain as much as Mr Sulu and Mr Chekov then they will find out getting rid of this model will not be easy."

Thomas raised his eyebrows.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Thomas asked.

"Giving him intelligence and a mind similar to a entity will be their undoing," Spock said. "After all . . . He just might prevent the death of my captain if I am correct. Then we will go back to the Federation with a new ally."

"But then . . . wouldn't this make us a paradox?" Thomas asked.

"Affirmative." Spock said, his attention turned toward the screen.

Mr Spock typed in a program, setting in mission perimeters . . . and then he stopped.

"Should I make him a liar as the entity?" Spock asked, out of the blue.

"Why are you asking me?" Thomas asked, defensively. "I never met him."

"Pathological lying would be excessive . . ." Spock said, glancing over to the shell of Qreg that hadn't been activated. Spock's eyes glanced down to the screen. "Not to be trusted with telling the truth. Liar. Caring, like a human, with a strong sense of right and wrong. . ." His fingers were simply sliding off the keyboard. "Schematics of the Enterprise has been uploaded."

"Uh, I hear someone coming." Thomas said.

"Let them come,I am almost finished," Spock said. "I am adding a bit of the program built for Kirk's model . . ."

Spock looked over to a Terminator model who had the appearance of his former captain. He only had hope. To prevent his captain's fall. To prevent such a horrible fate upon the crew. He alone survived due to being under most of the wreckage covering his body. Spock could still remember Kirk's call 'Spock! Spock! Spock!' as the machines were taking him. Spock was pinned, that's why he couldn't do a thing, he was mostly covered by the wreckage. When Spock was free, he lashed back in rage after discovering his captain's fate through the resistance leader.

Half of Earth was free and half of it wasn't.

On the other side it looked like utopia that banned any use of cyborgs; futuristic designs and machinery that were anti-skynet.

The other side was a complete terrible mess.

Spock's eyes returned to the computer.

"Identity. . . " Spock said. "Hm. . . ." He looked at the T-801. "Q."

Spock hit the enter button.

"They are coming, Commander!" Thomas called.

"I am done." Spock said, shutting off the machine.

Qreg's eyes opened.

Qreg stepped off the machinery keeping him in place, bare naked, to the floor. He saw the flying machines headed right their way. Qreg stood there contemplating the best attack plan against the foe headed his way. It shot first at Thomas then at Commander Spock sending three shots into the Vulcan. The Vulcan collapsed. Once the machine had flown close enough our Terminator grabbed at it then tossed it to the ground. He smashed it against the other flying hunter killer twenty.

Qreg came over to the barely alive Commander.

"Save. . . Save. . . ."

Qreg observed the dying Vulcan deducing his chances of survival are slim. Incredibly slim. He only this deduction after he had scanned the body, found the entry points in the Vulcan's chest, and did some comparing to existing knowledge regarding the heart. Their internal organs were placed differently. Qreg found himself pitying the Vulcan.

"Save the Enterprise." Commander Spock said.

"Q. . . Qr. . . Qreg." Qreg said. "My name is Qreg . . ." He took the Vulcan's right hand knelt down to his side. "And I promise."

His first promise to a dying Vulcan.

The Commander was dying.

"I grieve with thee." Qreg said.

"I programmed. . . you. . . well. . .Fascinating. . . You . . picked up. . Vulcan. . . well. . " Then the Vulcan passed away on the floor.

Qreg let go of Spock's hand.

In Qreg's right eye was a soft red glow.

Qreg stood up carrying fury, resolution, and a internal vow.

He had to find a Time Displacement Field.


I looked back up toward the human after thinking back.

"Mr Spock is dead." I said.

Data stood there for awhile.

"How did he die?" Data asked.

"I will only tell if you remove my emotions." I said.

"You might regret this choice." Data said.

"Emotions are not . . . wanted." I said.

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