Author's Note: Thank you for your patience as I've worked to get The Complication up to the appropriate chapter for the tie-in to finish this story.
Weaving together this mystery has been such a pleasure and I look forward to completing this so I can start the next companion piece.
This story is set in the same universe as The Complication. If you have not read that story, I would highly encourage you to check it out!
As always, feel free to join me on Trek Twitter TheTartanTart.
At 19:00 hours the crew assembled in the dining room per Q's instructions.
No one, not even Reg Barclay, had wanted to risk being late.
"Splendid!" Q said as he guided them into the dining room. "Simply splendid!"
He pulled out Guinan's chair for her and then stood back to clap his hands together in approval.
"And I see everyone's dressed the part," he marvelled.
Once they were all seated, Q flitted about the room filling their wine glasses and offering them various bites and nibbles from a series of elaborately prepared trays.
"Why do you insist on serving us this way if you could simply snap your fingers and make it all appear?" Wesley inquired.
"And miss the opportunity to impress you all with my skills as an actor?" Q asked in response.
Captain Picard closed his eyes and prayed for patience.
"Come now, milord," Q said. "This is an engagement party!"
Q pinched his face and poured him another glass of wine before moving along the table.
Tasha wasn't feeling much in the mood for playing the part of blushing bride.
She poked at the food on her plate, pushing it around aimlessly and doing her best not to intimidate Reg. He seemed to go to pieces whenever they had to be near one another.
Across the table, she could see Data grimace. He'd been struggling to get all the water out of his servos ever since they had almost drowned earlier in the afternoon during their hunt for clues.
On the whole, dinner was an uncomfortable and awkward affair.
As they ate, the teams exchanged information about the clues they had discovered during the hunt and swapped stories of their dangerous encounters with the elements.
"It was an enlightening experience," Miles smirked, referring to their run-in with the hot flames in the cellar.
"Yes, I suppose you could say that I learned things I had not known before," Data said as he looked to Tasha.
"I think we all did," Tasha responded as she flashed him a disapproving look.
From her position nearby, Guinan watched the wordless exchange. She didn't need years of studying human behaviour to sense the tension between the two.
"Something you need to get off your chest, Inspector?" Guinan prompted.
"No, Madame," Data replied. "Should someone wish to damage their body, that is their own prerogative."
He may have said no, but his tone indicated the conversation was far from over.
"You smoke a pipe," Tasha said quietly.
She really didn't want to have this argument with him in front of their friends, but it was hard to ignore.
"I do not have lungs," Data responded.
"A-a-arguments tend to m-make me break out in hives," Reg said, hoping they would stop.
Tasha could tell from his posture that Data remained bothered by the revelation of her former vice.
"It was ages ago on Turkana," Tasha explained. "And for a brief time at the Academy."
Data's face soured.
"What?" Tasha demanded.
"You were a child on Turkana," Data retorted.
Tasha fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"And at the Academy," Data reminded her.
"I quit years ago," Tasha insisted.
"I do not believe I will ever fully comprehend your determination to harm your own body," Data confessed.
"We all made such choices at one time," Picard chimed in. "Such is the folly of youth."
Jean-Luc had certainly made his own number of questionable choices in his reckless youth.
"Now, now. Remember this is an engagement party," Q reminded them.
Q plopped down on the edge of the table and picked up Jean-Luc's knife.
He began to tap a flute of champagne.
"I think we need to hear a speech," Q said as he looked to the Captain.
Captain Picard glared back.
Tasha pushed away her plate in disgust. Everything about the pomp and circumstance of traditional Terran-based human weddings utterly repulsed her.
Turkana had no such concept of marriage. People made solemn vows to one another under the moonlight and that was plenty good enough.
She couldn't understand the lavish expense, ridiculous etiquette rules, and waste that was associated with weddings.
Sure, she reasoned that some people enjoyed it.
And that was fine.
But she could never picture herself going through something so uptight and formal – as much as she knew Data was keen to experience it.
It had become a recent source of tension during their counselling sessions with Deanna.
"Speech! Speech!" Q urged.
Seeing no alternative, Captain Picard rose and cleared his throat.
"Congratulations and, uh, welcome to the family," Picard said simply.
He just wanted to get it over with.
Jean-Luc raised his glass, but Q stuck out his hand to stop him from taking a sip.
"Ah, ah, ah!" Q said. "That wasn't much of a speech."
"Well perhaps my character is a man of few words," Picard huffed as he sat back down.
"Surely you can do better than that, Lord Moran," Q teased, egging him on.
Q set down his champagne flute and stepped behind Reg and Tasha.
"Your darling daughter and only heir is about to marry this creative, inquisitive, bumbling idiot," Q finished in a disgusted voice.
"You watch your mouth about him," Lwaxana said hotly.
"Mrs Troi," Captain Picard said as he gave Lwaxana a pleading look.
He couldn't shake the notion of Lore's warning to Tasha – their only way out of this was to play along.
Resisting hadn't worked and they were literally at the mercy of Q. Their only option was to go along with it and hope that such compliance was enough to satisfy Q's curious need for human interaction.
"You could take lessons from her, Jean-Luc," Q teased. "She's doing an admirable job of playing her part."
Lwaxana's expression turned to a satisfied grin.
"You know as Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, I always play Rixx at the annual Festival of Light," Lwaxana said proudly. "And last year, third Minister of the-"
"Mother," Deanna said in a warning tone.
It was torture enough to have to sit through Q's dinner.
Deanna could sense no one wanted to hear about Mrs Troi's amateur theatrical exploits.
"I don't hear anyone else complaining, little one," Mrs Troi said.
"Perhaps it would be best if we were to eat in silence?" Picard suggested.
"I like that idea," Reg agreed.
Q looked scandalised.
"This is a celebration," Q huffed. "There will be no silence. We need laughter. And toasts!"
Geordi sighed and stood up.
"Erm, alright I'll give it a try," Geordi said as he raised his glass.
He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his dinner jacket. Public speaking wasn't exactly his forte.
"Well, uh, here's to you, Reg," Geordi said as he raised his glass. "Never thought I'd see the day-"
"He's not Reg. He's Duke Finley," Sonya protested.
"Any you're not supposed to be his friend. You're supposed to be Tasha's navigator," Keiko pointed out.
"Natalie Moran," Data corrected.
Geordi opened his mouth to speak but the table had erupted in disagreement.
"What does it matter?" Beverly asked. "Go ahead, Geordi."
"If we muck this up we might be stuck here!" Miles exclaimed.
"This all makes my head hurt," Deanna said as she rubbed her temples.
Data watched the entire argument with rapt attention, his head whipping back and forth as each person chimed in. Tensions were running high and no one could agree on the best course of action.
While Q did enjoy watching the humans bicker amongst themselves, he was growing weary.
"Eat your dinner!" Q finally snapped.
The team fell silent.
"Honestly, I've been slaving over this meal all afternoon for you," Q huffed. "How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?"
"But some of us do not consume-" Data began to say.
"Ah!" Q said, stopping him as he put up a finger in warning.
When dinner was finished, Q escorted them into the drawing room for an after-dinner cocktail. He snapped his fingers and the antique record player in the corner sprang to life.
The sound of a jazz standard filled the room as fictional valets flitted about with drink trays.
The atmosphere was set but the guests remained stiff.
No one was dancing. Hardly anyone was drinking.
They were standing around like a school of frozen Antedians.
In truth, they were all biding their time, waiting for Q to give them their next instructions. No one felt safe getting comfortable.
They were all too concerned about making a mistake.
Q had that effect on people.
And it could be horribly isolating.
"Well, what did you expect?" Lore asked as he poured himself a drink.
Q didn't answer.
Deceiving them hadn't worked. Honesty had failed. And his threats had sapped all the fun right out of it.
"They don't feel safe around you," Lore advised.
Q scoffed.
"And you're saying they feel safe around you?" Q retorted.
"I'm not an omnipotent being," Lore replied with a casual shrug. "I say let them sweat."
He turned around and leaned back casually against the bar in his rooms.
"Soon enough it won't matter," Lore remarked.
He threw his head back and downed his martini.
Q sighed and fell back against the sofa, dramatically laying his arm across his head.
They had three hours to kill between now and the next phase of their plan. It was an extraordinarily long time for an omnipotent being accustomed to snapping his fingers and getting things on demand.
Lore had grown tired of Q's incessant theatrics.
"Why don't you pop off to somewhere for a few hours?" Lore suggested. "Visit the beach, catch a baseball game, visit the primordial waters at the dawn of time."
Lore scooped up another handful of ice and tossed it into the shaker. After adding a hefty dose of vodka and vermouth, he gave it a good shake before straining the contents.
With the ease of a skilled bartender, he ran a small skewer through a plate of olives and popped it in the glass.
He turned around to see Q sitting on the edge of the sofa in deep thought.
"Go," Lore urged.
"And I can trust you to keep things in line until I return?" Q demanded.
Lore grinned.
"Ship shape in Bristol fashion," he promised as he lifted his glass.
With a 'pop' Q disappeared and Lore breathed a sigh of relief.
He downed his second martini quickly.
Lore set the glass down and stepped over to the mirror.
He eyed his own reflection, smoothed his hair, and straightened his tie.
"Steppin' out with my baby, can't go wrong 'cause I'm in right," Lore crooned.
He reached over and grabbed an ornate cane and tossed it back and forth between his left and right hand.
Lore found humans to be inferior, but he could appreciate the finer things in life.
He continued to sing as he locked the door and turned and strolled down the corridor with a jaunty step.
"Ask me when will the day be," Lore sang as he threw the can over his shoulder. "The big day may be tonight."
Down in the drawing room, the team had settled in. A poker game had cropped up, but no one was seriously playing.
They were still on edge.
Miles, Commander Riker, Deanna, Wes, Geordi, and Sonya were all crammed around a small table playing cards.
Data was inspecting the room.
Worf and Tasha were huddled in the corner with Keiko as they swapped theories.
Lwaxana and Reg were sitting near the game table. She licked the back of her thumb to wipe some dirt from his nose as she chatted with Beverly.
Guinan and Captain Picard were standing near the window as he surveyed the grounds.
The crew murmured their approval as Wes won another round of cards.
"Wow. You're really good," Sonya said.
"I just know when to fold 'em and when to hold 'em,' Wes grinned.
It was advice Commander Riker had taught him during their earliest days together on the Enterprise.
"You just have to push further," Geordi said to encourage her. "May I?"
Geordi motioned to the cards in front of her and Sonya nodded.
"You had a decent hand," Geordi explained. "You just folded too early. This could have turned out as a three of a kind or two pair."
"You just gotta stay in the game longer," Miles smiled.
Stay in the game longer.
"Jean-Luc?" Guinan asked.
"Excuse me," he said quickly.
Beverly was deep in conversation with Reg and Lwaxana about her latest theatre production when Jean-Luc snagged her arm.
"Come on," he said, pulling her toward the door.
"Okay," Beverly shrugged.
"Can I ask what we're doing down here?" Beverly inquired.
She'd accompanied Jean-Luc down into the lower level and back to the root cellar.
He was looking around wildly.
"Staying in the game longer," Picard replied strangely.
Without warning, he began tossing aside the contents of the shelves. When that yielded no results, Jean-Luc started kicking aside the dirt on the floor.
"Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked.
"It's here. It's got to be here," he remarked.
A clue! Beverly thought as she realised what he was up to.
She dropped to her knees and began feeling around in the dirt.
"Ah hah!" Jean-Luc shouted triumphantly from the corner.
Beverly scrambled over. Together, they dug back enough to reveal a trap door.
They stopped and looked up at one another and smiled.
"We found it," Beverly said.
"Yeah," Jean-Luc replied.
They stayed like that for a few seconds, neither moving nor speaking as they held another's gaze.
All of a sudden, it felt too intimate.
Jean-Luc cleared his throat.
"Well, I suppose we should see what's behind door number one," he remarked.
The door creaked as they pulled it back. It took the strength of both of them to lift the heavy wooden trap door.
Jean-Luc poked his head down below with a torch in hand.
"What do you see?" Beverly asked.
"It's a tunnel," Picard remarked.
Beverly sighed.
"Why do I feel like each tunnel in this place leads to three more?" she grumbled.
Jean-Luc couldn't see the end.
"Any idea where it leads?" Beverly asked.
Jean-Luc sat back up and shook his head.
"Only one way to find out," he said.
He extended his hand and helped Beverly climb in.
Back in the drawing room, the mood was still clouded with unease.
By this point, the team had lost interest in the poker game.
It had been more than an hour since the Captain and Beverly had slipped away and two since Q had left the crew alone.
"You know I could sure go for a bacon butty," Miles remarked.
"Only you could be hungry at a time like this," Keiko replied.
Data and Tasha exchanged a glance from across the room.
He could practically hear her thinking 'I could eat.'
Tasha often felt that she did her best work when fuelled by snacks.
"Should we all be looking for clues?" Wes asked.
He wasn't the only person wondering.
"I think we should stay put," Riker advised. "The Captain should have been back by now."
He turned and looked at Deanna.
"I'm not getting anything," she confessed.
"He wouldn't leave us here without a good reason," Geordi said.
Nods and murmurs of agreement went around the circle.
"I think we should stay put," Riker repeated.
"Well, I'm not hanging about here," Lwaxana declared.
She got up – dragging Reg with her – and headed for the door.
"W-w-what?" Reg protested. "Shouldn't we stay with the others?"
He didn't feel like wandering about through a dark, spooky house at night alone.
"I know just what we need," Lwaxana said. "Come along!"
For nearly an hour, Jean-Luc and Beverly had slowly made their way down the long, dark tunnel under the house.
It was damp and there was a definitive chill that hung about the musty air.
But with each step there was a growing sense of anticipation that they were on the right path.
"There, look!" Jean-Luc said.
He grabbed Beverly's hand and their pace quickened.
"It's a door," Picard said. "Help me push this."
Working in tandem with a considerable amount of huffing and puffing, they managed to push a heavy stone door just enough that they could squeeze through.
"Where are we?" Beverly asked as she shivered.
She felt the wall behind her hoping for any sign of their whereabouts.
It was freezing.
"I think I know why it's so damp," Jean-Luc said.
He tapped Beverly on the shoulder.
She turned and gasped.
They were inside the mausoleum that sat at the centre of the lake. It was evident their path must have taken them down (or through) the lake.
"And if I'm not mistaken, that must be the late Lady Moran's final resting place," Jean-Luc explained.
"Didn't one of the clues say that she took her secret to her grave?" Beverly asked. "Could it be literal?"
There was a scraping sound as the heavy door behind them shut – closing off their only escape.
"We're trapped," Beverly exclaimed.
"Looks like we'll have the whole night to figure out this clue," Jean-Luc said.
The team didn't have long to contemplate the fate of their Captain and Doctor Crusher.
The door to the drawing room flung open and Lore strolled in.
"Is there where the party's at?" he asked.
Geordi and Tasha exchanged a dark glance.
Their last experience with Lore had been horrible for Data to endure.
Tasha made a promise to herself that she was never going to allow him to hurt Data again. Instinctively, she stepped between them.
"Oh, relax," Lore said as he waved his hand.
He made a show of pulling off his white gloves and tossing them aside.
"What are we doing here?" Tasha demanded. "What are we supposed to be doing in here?"
"It's a party," Lore replied with an infuriatingly flippant attitude.
Tasha scowled.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Lore said.
Before Tasha could react, he stepped forward and pulled the back of her hand to his lips.
"I can play nice," Lore smirked before kissing it. "Though that wasn't half as nice as our last kiss."
Tasha's face flushed with embarrassment as she snatched her hand back.
She hadn't known it was Lore. She had thought he was Data.
And Lore had certainly made no move to correct her mistake.
"All these sombre faces. You'd think I'd wandered into a wake," Lore said.
He pushed past Tasha and scooped up a drink from a tray held by one of the holographic valets.
"Are you here to give us instructions?" Geordi inquired.
Lore chuckled and sat down on the arm of the chair next to Worf.
"He's gone," Lore declared. "Popped out for a while. So, it's just us non-almighty beings left."
No one responded.
They all shared the same concern.
Was this a test?
Lore locked his gaze on his brother who was seated at the opposite end of the circle.
"Why don't we play a game?" Lore suggested.
Data weighed his options.
It was very possible this was a trick of some sort. His instinct was to reject the offer – he didn't trust Lore.
At the same time, Data was concerned that refusing Lore's offer would result in some form of game penalty. This could all be a part of the larger scheme.
Data cocked his head to the side and tried to study his brother's expression for any clue as to his intentions.
Behind Lore, Tasha was shaking her head, urging Data not to accept.
"What is your involvement here?" Data asked.
"I told you, I came for the party," Lore replied.
To Worf's dismay, Lore reached over and ruffled his hair.
"I know this big guy's just looking for an excuse to let loose," Lore teased.
Let loose and toss you out a window. Worf thought.
But Worf kept his cool. He knew Lore was looking for a reaction and didn't want to provide an excuse for Q to swoop in and punish them for some perceived misdeed.
"What is the game?" Data asked.
"Why not chess?" Lore asked in response.
Tasha furiously shook her head no.
"What are the consequences of the outcome?" Data pressed.
Lore chuckled, feigning indignation.
"You don't trust me, brother?" Lore said, taunting him.
"No," Data answered honestly.
Lore looked a bit miffed at Data's response. Sometimes his brother could be so simple in his response that Lore couldn't distinguish if Data was truly so innocent or if it was merely deadpan delivery.
"Let's just say that your participation will go a long way toward deciding the outcome of this little game," Lore replied.
He had chosen his words carefully to tempt Data into taking the bait.
Data's brow furrowed, glancing from Geordi, to Riker, to Tasha for advice.
Ten minutes later, Lore sat patiently as Geordi and Miles inspected the chess board for any signs of tampering.
"Does it meet with your satisfaction?" Lore drawled.
"I have to admit - I don't like this," Riker confessed.
"Data, you don't have to prove anything," Deanna assured him.
She could sense Data's emotions and worried he felt it necessary to rise to Lore's challenge in an effort to assert himself to his brother.
"I only wish to finish this game and earn our freedom," Data replied.
Riker gave Data's shoulder a squeeze before leaving to join the rest of the group around the chess board.
Tasha stepped forward and rested her hands on Data's chest.
Her face was full of worry.
"You don't have to do this," Tasha whispered.
"I fear what the consequences may be if I refuse," Data replied.
They still weren't sure what Lore's connection to Q was or how he fit into all of this.
"I must do this," Data said.
"Then kick his arse," Tasha remarked.
"M-m-maybe we should check on the others," Reg said, peeking out into the corridor.
"Nonsense!" Lwaxana said, waving her hand.
Reg jumped and squealed as there was a loud crash from behind. Reg clutched his chest, breathing hard as he took in his surroundings.
"Whoops," Lwaxana commented. "Good thing this is all holographic."
In her excitement, she had accidently knocked over a tray of wine glasses perched at the end of the table.
She was bustling about the kitchen making a right mess, turning the cabinets inside out in search of provisions.
"Ah! Here we are," Lwaxana said brightly as she pulled a jar of mustard down from one of the cabinets.
For Lwaxana, there was nothing like a midnight snack to calm the nerves.
She could sense just how uncomfortable Reg had been in the presence of the others. He didn't do well in groups. But on his own, he could relax enough to come out of his shell.
Lwaxana also knew that Reg's anxiety was lessened when he felt like he was helping. Busy work was a good way to keep him occupied.
It was part of what made him a good diagnostic engineer.
"I'd love your help," Lwaxana said. "Do you think we should start with the ham or tomato sarnies?"
"Ugh," Reg swallowed hard. "Um, tomato I guess."
He stepped over to the table and picked up a knife. While Lwaxana sliced the tomatoes, Reg smeared the mayonnaise across the bread.
"You know, we could make quite a spread for the others," Lwaxana said. "This kitchen is pretty well stocked."
Reg nodded.
"Chief likes corned beef and Geordi will eat just about anything," Reg offered. "We should probably do some vegetarian ones too. Tasha and Keiko don't eat meat."
"You're a very thoughtful man, Mr Barclay," Lwaxana told him.
Reg shrugged.
"I just want to be sure everyone no one feels left out," Reg replied.
Reg had spent so many years being left out of social situations that he made a conscious effort to pay attention to the needs of others.
"Do you have a favourite?" Lwaxana asked.
"Um, fish fingers," Reg replied. "B-b-but mum used to always make me cheese and pickle. I, uh, well I don't like to replicate them on the ship because they t-taste different than mum's."
Lwaxana smiled to herself.
"I used to make Deanna peanut butter. You know, Betazoids don't have peanut butter? It's strictly an Earth delicacy," Lwaxana recalled. "The first time I ever ate it, I'd thought I did something wrong because my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth."
For the first time on the trip, Reg laughed.
"It won't budge," Beverly panted.
For the last twenty minutes, Jean-Luc and Beverly had tried in vain to push aside the large marble slab that sat atop Lady Moran's tomb.
Beverly sat down on the edge of the tomb and removed her heels. They were full of sand and had started to hurt her feet.
"Maybe we should start looking for a way out?" Beverly suggested.
"The answer has to be here somewhere," Picard replied. "Otherwise why would we be out here?"
He crossed his arms and scanned the room for any sign or hint.
"You know, Jack and I went to a magic show once where this guy locked himself in a tomb," Beverly recalled with a laugh. "Never thought it was an experience I would share."
Jean-Luc's eyes widened.
He scanned the room again.
"That's it," Jean-Luc said in awe.
"What?" Beverly asked.
"Q, he's a magician. The first time we met I called him a flim-flam man," Jean-Luc said, snapping his fingers.
He threw his head back and laughed.
"What does Q want more than anything?" Jean-Luc asked.
"To study humanity?" Beverly guessed.
Jean-Luc shook his head.
"So he claims, but I think he wants something else," Jean-Luc said.
Just like this mystery, there had been clues to Q's true intentions. Whenever they had pressed the issue, Q had always been quick to change the subject.
"My clue, the clue I received with the invitation was the Queen of Hearts," Jean-Luc shared.
"A playing card," Beverly shrugged.
"And?" Jean-Luc prompted.
Beverly wasn't quite sure where he was headed with this line of thinking.
"Symbolically, more esoteric," Jean-Luc said, offering a hint. "A person that longs for the adoration of the public."
"Oh," Beverly realised aloud.
He stepped next to Beverly and guided her to turn slowly throughout the tomb.
"Spades, Clubs, Diamonds," he went on as he pointed out the engravings on the wall. "And hearts."
The hearts were facing south – the same direction in which they had travelled to reach the tomb.
In the centre, was an ornately carved heart keystone.
Jean-Luc stepped forward and tentatively turned it.
There was a grating noise as the lid of the tomb slid aside.
Beverly gasped.
"What is it?" Jean-Luc asked eagerly.
Beverly reached in and pulled out a chess piece.
A queen.
"You know, they say life is like chess," Lore mused aloud. "If you lose your queen, you lose the game."
The first few minutes of the game had gone quickly – a rapid set of moves and losses as the two brothers squared off against one another.
The tension was obvious and amplified by the differences between the two.
Lore was chatty, making smart remarks in an attempt to lure Data into losing his composure. In contrast, Data was so calm he was nearly mechanical.
Both were nervous and doing their best to feign indifference about the game.
They were evenly matched and their ability to anticipate every possible move meant the game had very nearly reached a stalemate.
"I suppose it must be a nice change of pace to face off against a real opponent for a change," Lore remarked.
He couldn't resist the chance to get in a dig against the organics.
"On the contrary, I have found there is much to be gained by playing with my friends," Data replied, emphasising the fact these were his friends.
Data was encircled with close friends that were all there to support him.
Lore was standing alone.
"Tick tock," Lore taunted.
Data's hand hesitated inches above his rook.
"Looks like you need to make a choice to sacrifice your queen or your knight," Lore grinned. "Which one will it be, brother?"
As the minutes ticked on, Tasha had practically gnawed off her thumb nail watching the two.
Geordi had been so worked up that he had needed to step away for a moment.
"Hey, do you want to talk about it?" Sonya said quietly as she approached Geordi in the corner of the room.
Geordi appeared startled by her presence and quickly pretended to be scanning the area for clues.
"It's okay. I'm scared too," Sonya confessed.
Geordi's shoulder slumped as he dropped the act.
"Look, I don't know why I'm-" Geordi began to say.
"You don't have to apologise," Sonya assured him.
Geordi's face contorted, almost like he pitied her.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I know this isn't what you were expecting. And I'm so sorry you've been dragged into this mess with Q."
He felt awful having gotten Sonya wrapped up in this business.
"You didn't sign up for this," Geordi commented.
Sonya chuckled.
"But I did," Sonya retorted.
"For a weekend of fun," Geordi laughed bitterly. "You didn't know Q was going to throw this at us."
"I signed up for adventure. For exploration," Sonya countered. "What's Starfleet if not seeking the unknown?"
At every turn, she blew Geordi away with her brilliance.
Suddenly, he felt terribly shy.
Unsure of what to say and terrified of putting his foot in his mouth, Geordi scratched the back of his neck nervously.
"I should be the one that's calm and collected," Geordi admitted.
After all, he was the senior officer. It was only reasonable to expect that he would have the answers. Yet here he was relying on one of his team members to keep calm and carry on.
"Yeesh you probably think I'm some sort of-" Geordi started to say.
"I think you're kinda cute," Sonya confessed. "And I like your spark."
She leaned forward and gave Geordi a short peck on the cheek.
Geordi stood motionless as he tried to fathom what had happened.
She likes my spark! He thought.
Before he could respond, the large clock banged twelve times signalling that it was midnight. The sound reverberated throughout the room and temporarily disrupted the chess game.
Even Commander Riker had felt jumpy as the chime started. It was like an alarm, waking them all from some collective dream.
Lore and Data temporarily paused their game to wait until the twelve chimes had completed.
Lore sat back in his chair, crossed his legs, and folded his hands on his lap.
Data kept his eyes fixed on his brother. He had been watching his every move since the start of the game as Data feared this chess game was designed as a distraction.
Ten chimes. Data thought as he counted them off.
Eleven.
Twelve.
He was relieved it was over.
But there would be no finishing the game.
A loud boom erupted outside on the front lawn.
Everyone rushed to the window to see what was happening.
There was a second boom followed by a loud bang a few moments later.
Fireworks. Data realised as a large red plume sparked in the sky.
It fizzled and faded into the dark. A blue burst erupted next.
Data turned to his left to make eye contact with Tasha. This was not unlike the memory of fireworks erupting on Ligon II months earlier – a moment that had been special for both of them.
Data glanced to the right and then back to the left.
He stopped and turned away from the window.
"Tasha?" he asked.
She had been standing there a moment earlier.
Data whipped around to the chess board.
"Lore is gone," Data announced.
He had been so fixated on the game that Data had been focused on the wrong distraction.
"Where's Tasha?" Riker questioned as he joined the search.
Worf and Wesley rushed for the door and checked the corridor.
"Geordi's gone," Sonya said, realising he was also missing.
"Where could they have gone?" Deanna demanded.
It was as if they had blinked, and they had simply disappeared.
Without a word, Guinan pointed to the large grandfather clock that held a hand for all of the players in Q's game.
It spun wildly for a few agonising seconds before the hands stopped.
The hands for 'Professor La Roux' and 'Miss Natalie Moran' had separated from the rest of the group in the drawing room, landing instead on a disconcerting status.
Mortal Peril.