Captain's log, stardate 41153.7. Preparing to detach saucer section. so that families and the majority of the ship's company can seek relative safety while the vessel's stardrive, containing the battle bridge and main armaments, will turn back and confront the mystery that is threatening us.
As other crew members scurried around the battle bridge, Soriana was struck by just how bloody Earth's history actually was. Most races had put large-scale conflict behind them by the time they industrialized, but many of humanity's most memorable conflict took place after that point. Wars fought with weapons produced by the millions and vehicles of war by the tens of thousands. Wars fought with rockets, diseases, radiation, and nuclear fission.
From Q's parting words, she had a strong feeling that when they met again, the alien would expect them to give an account of these incidents, and honestly, Soriana had little to do while everyone else's attention was engaged in the technical work of the ship. So she read, reviewing the horrors of Earth history, and kept her mind open for any sign of that staggeringly powerful mental presence.
It came as Picard ordered a full stop and unconditional surrender, giving the ship's saucer section additional time to escape. The merciless curiosity was still there, tinged with a heady anticipation. It reminded Soriana of a housecat's glee in playing with prey before eating it - not the most reassuring of comparisons.
The flash overlay all of Soriana's vision this time, retreating to reveal the concrete and steel of an Earth amphitheatre. The stands were filled with the forms of jeering humans. Only Picard; Yar, and Data were there with her.
"Remember Trelane Protocol," Picard said. "Comply with all nonlethal demands; stay calm; give no grounds for offense. Our reaction is the whole point. Don't give an excuse for the aliens to lash out."
Soriana focused on the minds of the human crowd. At first blush they appeared real - actual minds, not the blankness of holoprojections. But scrutiny revealed an unnatural uniformity in their thoughts. There was no variation in their thoughts, no confusion or reservation. Just straightforward raucousness and a thirst for bloodsport, little more.
"The prisoners will rise," an armored man announced, and the four of them did without complaint. Soriana cast her senses wider, and was gratified to sense nothing at all outside the courtroom chamber. Were they actually on a populated world, she'd be hard-pressed pick out specific thoughts and emotions from such a distance, but she'd at least sense the presence of minds. Their absence spoke volumes.
"Captain, I can sense the thoughts of these people, not anything beyond this chamber," she reported. "I suspect this is all been created for our benefit. In incredible detail, mind - I wouldn't be surprised if these people were built down to the molecular level. But I think it's safe to say we've been brought to a place of Q's devising, not the actual twenty-first century Earth."
"He's toying with us," Lieutenant Yar murmured, "and making a mockery of what the Federation has done. We're past this sort of garbage."
"Keep your head, Mister Yar," the captain replied. "Mister Turhal, if this is a legal proceeding, we'll be counting on your expertise."
"At least we are familiar with the judge, sir," Data supplied, nodding toward the end of the chamber.
Q cut an imposing figure in crimson robes draped around his raised hydraulic throne. He made a gesture, and as the audience sat, the four officers made to do likewise.
"Get to your feet, criminals!" one of the soldiers ordered, backing up his command with a hit from his weapon. The hit never landed, however, as Yar blocked his swing and disarmed him in one simple move. At a nod from Picard, she dropped the weapon as soon as it was clear of the guard.
"You are out of order," Q pronounced, a sardonic frown directed at the disarmed soldier. The soldier next to him opened fire, cutting him down. Soriana flinched as she felt the pain and fear radiating from the man as he died. Simulated it might be, but their minds still projected emotions at full strength.
Judge Q widened his attention to accompany the whole chamber, his expression turning magnanimous. "The prisoners will not be harmed until they are found guilty." With a sweeping gesture, "Dispose of that."
"Does this mean," Picard asked, "that you intend this to be a fair trial?" This, too, was part of the Trelane Protocol: bind the alien to rules and commitments of its own making, which were more likely to be kept than any 'lesser' authority.
"Yes, absolutely equitable," Q agreed. "Proceed."
"Before this gracious court," read the bailiff, "now appear these prisoners to answer for the multiple and grievous savageries of their species. How plead you, criminal?"
"Counsellor," Data spoke softly to his fellow officers. "The United Nations determined in 2036 that no Earth citizen could be made to answer for the crimes of his race or forbears."
Soriana nodded. "But this court is from the Post-Atomic period, is it not? Did they recognize those rulings?"
As Data paused for a second, Soriana could feel Q's powerful mind growing impatient. The jeers of the crowds likewise grew in volume. "The decor suggests 2075-2082, likely Central or Southeast Asia. You are correct that the warlords of this era would not have recognized United Nations precedent."
"The criminals will submit their plea," the Bailiff ordered.
"Your Honor," Soriana announced, "we cannot plead until we understand the nature of the charges and the jurisdiction of the court." The jeers grew louder, and Soriana felt the pressure of their collective disdain in her mind. "This is the bare minimum" - she was shouting at this point to be heard above the din - "the… bare minimum needed for an equitable trial!"
She could feel Q's glee as he raised on hand, instantly silencing the crowd. "You volunteer, then, to act as counsel on behalf of humanity? You'll be lawyer for the defense?"
"I will," she agreed, and was bewildered by the savage joy that entered his mind upon her saying so.
Q nodded once to a soldier, and Soriana heard the loud ringing noises at the same moment that the pain bloomed in her chest and stomach. It was piercing and burning, both, and it mounted second by second until she felt, and thought, nothing at all.
Soriana had no idea if seconds or hours had passed when a bright flash of light saw her restored, but from the unchanged position of all but Yar in front of her, she presumed the former. Like her, Tasha seemed to have some memory of former pain she was now trying to recover from, and the captain regarded them both with spikes of both concern and sudden relief.
Q spoke again. "We are merciful, but we have limits. There will be no legal trickery here, and no disinterested lawyers. Your dear pet counsellor is permitted to speak for you, but only as a criminal answering for your collective crimes. Or," he gestured to a door on the other side of the gallery, which the soldiers opened as they watched, "you can leave. After all, you're not human, are you? It is not your race on trial today."
Soriana sensed the trap clearly, but she saw no choice. "I will stay. I won't abandon my crewmates," she said simply.
"Then you accede to the jurisdiction of this honorable court?" Q's smugness was infuriating.
"I stand by my Captain," Soriana responded simply. "He speaks for me, and I will speak for him."
"So be it," Q agreed. "You will now answer to the charge of being a grievously savage race."
Soriana had been thinking about this, ever since Q had first appeared, and she had an answer. But it was risky. She looked to Picard, and he gave her a nod and half-smile; he trusted her. Go for it, his emotions bolstered her.
"On that charge, your honor, we plead guilty," she said.
She felt the surprise from her own crewmates, and a sudden lack of presence from the assembled crowd which accompanied a feeling of surprise even from Q's great mind.
"You admit," Q pressed, "that humanity is now, as it has always been, a brutally savage race, filled with violence and ugliness?"
"If it please the Court, I do," Soriana agreed, "and I would say the same about my own people, the Haliians. Or any member of the Federation, in fact. We are, all of us, born into the brutality of our animal ancestry. We have instincts for selfishness, for aggression, and for fear. We lie and steal and brutalize each other in all sorts of ways. None of this has changed, not from the dawn of civilization to the present. This," she gestured to the assembled audience, "is very much a product of human nature. Of the nature of every barely-evolved, sapient race."
"I am delighted that you acknowledge this," Q admitted. "Picard, where did you find this one? She's speaking sense."
"If I may continue," Soriana added. "It is this savage nature that makes the accomplishments of the Federation so remarkable. What triumph would it be, for a creature whose mind knows only logic and rational cooperation to forge a union of peace? She would only be acting according to her nature. But we - my people, humanity, and many others - we formed the Federation in conquest of our fears and aggressions. The peaceful worlds that we have built for centuries and continue to build, are all the more grand for having been built on so humble a foundation."
"You're saying that, despite being ugly savages, we should let you go, because you try so hard?" Q sneered.
"Yes," she said simply. "We convicted ourselves of this long, long ago - and we live under a suspended sentence. A parole, if you will: knowing that when we lapse into savagery, we become our own punishment, a prison of war and violence that is our own creation."
Soriana took a further step forward, directly in front of Q's raised seat. She pleaded, "Do the same for us, Q. Find us guilty, yes, stay your hand and watch what we can accomplish."
The platform lowered, smoothly, until Q, bending forward, was eye to eye with the ship's counsel. "It shall be," he smirked, "exactly as you have said."
The flash of light revealed them to be returned to their places on the battle bridge, steady on course to Farpoint Station.