Work Text:
"Whatever it is Q, we're not interested."
The greco-roman trumpet line lowers their instruments and disappears in a flash. Q remains in his toga and golden wreath crown, a little miffed at this cold reception. He quickly recovers with grand enthusiasm.
“Oh I simply couldn’t end this little game you’re about to play, Jean-Luc. Not before it's even begun! And not after -all- the trouble I went to setting it up. I can’t afford to disappoint my spectators!" *unseen crowd roars* "And besides, it just looks like so much fun.”
“Dammit Q! I’m not playing your games this time!” He barks with conviction.
Q is suddenly coy, teasing, “I wouldn’t be so sure. You see, you’re not exactly my favorite pawn anymore Jean-Luc."
Now he's grand and loud, playing to the unseen audience "This game has been set for a different player! One who has unexpectedly become even more interesting than you."
Now sarcastically sentimental, "Think of this visit as a courtesy call, out of respect for all the good times we’ve shared."
Now calm, and serious again, in Picard's ear "Please understand; right now I don’t care if you win, lose, forfeit, or abstain."
Now joyfully sadistic, for the whole bridge to hear,
"Your part in this is really very simple…
Do…
Or die…”
Q’s wicked grin and maniacal laugh fill the room with the portent of doom.
As the camera rises through the ceiling of the Enterprise E, we discover that the bridge floor has become the sandy arena of a grand Roman Coliseum in all its glory. The Captain stands alone in his red uniform at the center of the ring, squinting against the harsh sun. A packed crowd cheers as Q lounges back on his throne and beckons for wine.
The camera continues to rise and we see in the distance a great city gleaming in metal with rivers of flying cars flowing in and out of it. In the fields surrounding, legions of men in shining white armor escort what looks to be an ocean of people in chains.
Members of every species Jean-luc Picard has ever seen from around the galaxy, and just as many that he has never seen before, are found in that vast tide of prisoners. They’re being led into the foothills, and their sorrowful march stretches all the way to the horizon.
Columns of inky black smoke rise from behind those hills.
Two men in black robes stand on the highest balcony overlooking the city and the tragedy beyond. As they survey what seems to be their handiwork, one of them raises a strange glowing red sword toward the sky.
Our camera climbs ever higher, revealing the night black of space. The sky is littered with the patrolling masses of huge triangular starships, and the debris of their recent enemies. Small fighters scream across your view.
A solitary moon watches over the scene. As it turns to face the camera, we see that it truly is No Moon.
Sickly green lights erupt around a great crater. They surge together, and a violent flash springs forward towards you, dear reader.
"Sleep well Jean-luc. This is one nightmare that just might come true."