Star Trek: TNG: Q's Day Out

Chapter Six

Q studied the young woman. He looked almost like a hawk or a vulture that was about to swoop down from atop the trees and attack it's vulnerable prey on some sort of African plain. He stared at her intently and closely. It was so close that it caught Roxana's alarmed attention. She did not, however, speak. She had other things on her mind. Other, more important things. Much more important things.

Q sighed deeply and heavily. "You look…" he paused and tried to guess the emotion. The only people he had ever really seen properly were from the Starship Enterprise. And, he knew that using them as a reference would certainly not be very helpful. Picard didn't show emotion that often apart from anger and frustration. Data wasn't even able to show emotion and when he did try, it didn't go down all that well. Geordi had the infernal VISOR on which was practically covering his entire face, so there was no help there either. Counsellor Troi annoyed him. Reading other peoples', minds, even if it isn't his own, was just rude. "Preoccupied," Q then finished off his sentence. "Is that the word?"

Roxana didn't hear him at first. It seemed that her brain was far too busy. "Sorry, what?" She asked him for a clarification on what he had just said.

"You look a little preoccupied," Q repeated himself. It was only a mere five words or so but, nonetheless, Q sounded tired as he said it.

She looked over at him. "That's because I am," she replied simply and rather unhelpfully.

"May I ask why?" He inquired, sounding very curious as he did so.

She stood up from her chair in the kitchenette area and then walked over to where Q was. She sat down beside him delicately. She made an attempt at composing herself and then she began slowly, "I don't think you know about the war, do you?"

Q paused to think for a moment. "I know a lot of things," he said happily. "Among that knowledge is quite a great deal about humanity's conflicts. You've had so many."

She nodded and felt her eyes begin to glaze over. She blinked a few times in response and her vision slowly began to clear up, before clouding over again.

Q continued, adding, "I can name them all if you want."

Roxana didn't say anything in response to that. Instead, she just sat there, staring at the white wall in front of her.

Taking her silence as some sort of 'yes' to his question, Q began to show off his knowledge. He started with, "Battle of Hastings." He went on and on. After naming quite a few world conflicts, he, at last, came to the twentieth-century mark. He continued, "World War One, World War Two, Cold War." The final war he said, "The Falklands War", elicited a response from Roxana. He cast his gaze over in her direction and saw that she was crying. "You're crying," he stated the obvious, not knowing what else he should say.

She looked up at him and sniffed. She wiped her eyes carefully.

"Why?" He asked her curiously. He had no idea what the answer was.

Once again, she sniffed. "My brother, Alexander, he enlisted in that war…" she droned off, her voice becoming nothing more than a quiet whisper.

"The Falkland's War?" Q asked her.

She nodded slowly. "Uh huh," she clarified simply for him. "He was killed," she said.

"I see," he said bluntly, lacking the appropriate emotion.

"No, you don't see," she said. "You can't die. Gods can't die," she corrected him.

He smiled briefly. "So you do think I'm a god?" He asked her cautiously.

"Can you only think of yourself?" She asked him angrily. "Not of others?"

No one else is worth thinking about. Q wanted to correct her, but he stayed quiet instead. He thought it was best.