Captain's Log, Stardate 41153.7. Other than our sensor logs, no outward sign remains of the enigmatic being known as Q. The U.S.S Hood has confirmed by subspace message that the balance of the Enterprise's crew, including her much-needed first officer, awaits us at Farpoint Station.
"Tea, earl grey, hot. Tea, rainflower and honey, chilled." Picard adroitly picked up the porcelain teacup and the tall glass as the two of them appeared. He turned and handed his fourth officer her drink before sitting behind his ready room desk.
"Soriana," Picard began after a moment's pause as they each took a drink, "aren't you concerned about the consequences of having a guilty verdict hanging over us? I would have used our modern civilization as evidence that, at least as a species, we have transcended our earlier savagery."
"The verdict was predetermined, sir," Soriana insisted. "And, while I agree with your perspective to an extent, I also genuinely believe what I said to Q about our natures. Are you aware that, genetically and neurologically, Haliians today are no different than our ancestors were a hundred millennia ago? For humans, it's even longer. While some species, like the Vulcans and Romulans, have made significant evolutionary strides in that time, they would certainly agree that an untrained member of their race, acting on instinct, is as much as slave to brutal passions as we are."
Picard frowned. "And yet, we have spent centuries proving that we can overcome these passions. That's what I want us to convey. Why won't Q see it?"
She sighed. "Honestly, sir? Because the trial isn't the point."
"What do you mean?"
"When Q is present, he's not focusing on humanity's past acts, or the damage humans might do in the future. His attention is on us, on our reactions, excitement or curiosity about them. Elation when he feels justified in doing something to us. That's what I sense, every time."
"This is all just… amusement for him, then?" the captain frowned. "A stage play that keeps his attention?"
"I'm afraid so. But… sir, that's also our biggest advantage." She swallowed another mouthful of tea as Picard urged her to continue. "He has no grudge, no vendetta to carry out against us for our atrocities. He's just… playing a role."
"Which implies that he'll follow the rules."
"As long as the game is amusing him, at least." Soriana looked out at the stars, streaking by the ready room window like snow in high wind. "As long as the rules are more fun than breaking them."
The Captain looked down into his empty cup, and pushed himself out of his chair. "I don't like any of this," he spat. "Q has no right to treat us this way! To put my crew in jeopardy for a cruel game!"
Soriana stayed seated, and kept her own voice calm and level. "Sir, I… ah. Permission to… speak freely?"
Picard's head jerked from staring in the middle distance to focus on Soriana; she felt his curiosity about what she would say. "Always," he said.
"I took all the coursework in ethics I could at the Academy," she began, "even classes outside my area. That included medical ethics… and they always had one lecture of that taught by old Doctor Bones himself."
"Admiral McCoy? I've met the man; he was already old when I started at Starfleet Academy," Picard smiled.
Soriana smiled back. "His lecture was probably the single most important class session I've ever attended. He mostly focused on issues with being the ship's CMO, difficult moral situations that can come up when you have to treat patients quickly, often without express consent. But he dove right into to the thorniest of them, and mostly gave us difficult questions to ask. Not much in the way of answers."
"I… think I would have hated that," Picard admitted. "I always wanted the quick answer, when I was a cadet."
"Me, too," she agreed. "But the lessons grew on me. And there's one thing he said… almost as an aside, that this whole situation has made me think of." Soriana swallowed, keeping eyes on her commanding officer to make sure she didn't overstep. "'A starship captain is the best at everything… except humility. Most would rather jump head first into a warp core breach than eat crow.'"
She sensed a spike of defensiveness from Picard, but then felt him push it down and allow it to slip away. It was a startling example of self-control. What he said, was, "Do you believe that Q was feeding on my pride? My indignation, as the captain of the Federation Flagship, for the things he was saying about humanity?"
Soriana nodded. "I'm certain of it, sir. More than anything else, Q wanted to see you react, to bluster in impotence against his power."
"I see." Picard returned his gaze to the outdoor scene. His next words were soft, directed inwards. "Thank you, Counsellor. You've given me much to consider."
*****
Soriana bit back her nervousness as she walked down the corridor toward the transporter room. She arrived and waited, sensing the minds of the two men she was there to meet before they came into sight. Walking beside the captain was his tall, swaggering first officer, the man she was not looking forward to seeing again.
"I've asked the Counsellor to join us in this meeting. May I introduce our new First Officer, Commander William Riker. Commander Riker, this is Lieutenant Commander Soriana Turhal."
"A JAG officer as Counsellor," Riker smiled, extending his hand, "that's unusual isn't it?"
"Starfleet has decided that the new Galaxy class ships need an Ethics Officer on the senior staff," Picard explained. "I take it you've met before, then?"
"We have," Soriana took the extended hand. "And not under the most pleasant of circumstances, I'm afraid, sir."
At Picard's look, Riker added, "Turhal was the investigating officer after the Altair III incident. She recommended," his smile got bigger as he said it, and she recognized a sort of playful aggression in his mood, "a general court martial. Didn't she tell you?"
"Those recommendations were sealed, Commander," Soriana blurted angrily. "Of course I hadn't shared them."
"Not even with your captain, in a matter pertaining to his new first officer?" Picard asked with some concern.
"Not even," she echoed. "Confidentiality is part of the job, sir, Commander. I hope you both understand that."
"Of course." The two men exchanged smiles, and she realized neither of them felt any concern about this matter. It was of minor importance to them; a fun way to learn about her and each other. She tried to make herself relax to match them, but with limited success.
"Let's head to the surface," Riker suggested, and gestured an arm to let her and Picard precede him. "We don't want to keep Administrator Zorn waiting."
"How did he strike you?" Picard asked.
"Eager to please. Not so eager to explain their methods or technology."
"Do you think they have something to hide?" Soriana asked as they stepped onto the pad.
"Oh, I'm certain they do. Everyone has something to hide." Riker quipped. "I just don't know if it's anything relevant to us. Energize."
*****
"I hope this will be a fruitful alliance, captain, but I am a bit perplexed at you bringing a Haliian along," Groppler Zorn complained. "If your intent is for her to read my mind -"
"Counsellor Turhal is the Enterprise's main diplomatic adviser," Picard interjected. "I assure you that her inclusion is no sign of mistrust between us."
To Soriana's knowledge, the Bandi had no particular resistance to being read, which made it all the more troubling that she sensed nothing from the man. It was as though he wasn't there at all, which in her experience was the sign of some sort of telepathic shielding.
There was little she could do without her canar crystal, but Soriana nonetheless made the attempt. She kept her gaze placid rather than intense so as not to appear rude, but she stared solidly at the Farpoint leader, opening herself completely to his thoughts.
The pain and grief that hit her was completely unexpected, and she felt herself let out a small gasp. It was… yes, it was clearly a call for help, although conscious or not, she could not tell.
"If Starfleet cannot accept that small weakness," Zorn was saying, "then we will be forced, unhappily, to seek an alliance with someone like the Ferengi, or -"
"Pardon me for interrupting," she spoke up, "but something needs my immediate attention. I beg your pardon, Administrator. Is there an unoccupied room nearby that I could use?"
"Of course," Zorn replied with a smile. "Will a chair and desk be sufficient? And some Haliian refreshment?"
"That won't be necessary, I just -"
"Oh, I insist, Counsellor. You'll find the chamber three rooms down on your left."
Soriana noticed when she entered the designated room that it was hung with reed mats woven of several different colors - a customary decoration on parts of the southern continent of her homeworld - plus a platter of fresh muskan and fleptan melon slices. She carefully moved the dish aside as she sat at the desk, wasting no time.
"Turhal to Enterprise," she tapped her comm badge, "please beam personal kit three to my location. Emergency priority."
"Immediately, sir," the transporter operator said over the comm, even as the crystal materialized on the floor a short distance from her. Soriana tamped down her annoyance, noting that emergency priority didn't leave time to specifically target the desk.
She picked the crystal up and set it in front of her, focusing on the pain and despair, the desperate entreaties for aid. She was aware that several minutes passed as she reached out, trying to attune to the signal.
When the connection finally clicked into place, Soriana was hit with the full force of emotion and experience - fear, suffering, starvation, desperation, and the yearning for freedom. She had no time to process it before it completely overwhelmed her. Everything faded to black.