Kelly and Q

(a prequel to Kelly and the Klingons)

Kelly was aghast when the foothold gave way and she began to slide, it all happened so fast.  One minute she was traversing the snow capped mountains of Terrod, heading towards the sanctuary of the Klingon listening post, the next slipping and sliding down a steep cliff of ice and rock.  A miniature avalanche of snow behind her, cascading down around her, gathering speed, she bounces off a rock with a squeal and her backpack jolts free and careers away under its own momentum.

She wrestles for the flailing pickaxe tied to her hand and attempts to slow her descent, this may have worked on Earth or any other M class planet; however the Ice here was frozen trillions of centuries ago and was so hard and impervious to anything short of Adamantine.   It did however pivot her, so she wasn’t sliding head first and could actually see her fate.  She didn’t have a lot of time to decide which vantage was best.  The precipice was fast approaching and her descent was not slowing no matter how hard she pressed on the ice axe.  Her eyes grew wide as she saw her backpack slip over the edge and vanish from sight, the avalanche was roaring around her now surging downwards, propelling her towards the edge.

Cursing in ancient Romulan, Kelly careers off the precipice and begins the long descent to the jagged rocks beneath her.  At the last second she throws out the pickaxe, desperate to catch on a rock or tree root, anything.  There was a moment of weightlessness, followed by a biting pain as the thin cord around her wrist dug into her flesh.  She swung under a slight overhang and into a refuge of safety from the ice and snow crashing over the edge and tumbling down to the rocks below. 

Slightly dazed and battered her symbiont and various parts of her body complaining all at the same time, she looks up into the smiling beaming face of a Human male.  He was holding the pickaxe loosely in one hand, as if he could lift several times Kelly’s weight.  She hung from the thin cord attached to the pickaxe.

“You really do your best to find interesting ways to die don’t you?”  he says

Kelly blinked and clambered up onto the ledge of ice he stood on, after a few moments the roar of the avalanche dies away as the last remnants fall out if sight and she huddles on the ledge to get her breath back.  She glances at the male, clearly conflicting emotions raging through her mixed with adrenaline of the recent fall.  She starts to speak then stops several times.  Finally taking a deep breath, waving her pickaxe at the male and raising her top lip into a sneer “Fnyahh meh” she retorts finally.

The male, dusts some snow off his impeccably smart tuxedo and he adjusts his bow tie.

“Ahh I see you're still working on your grasp of the Klingon language, try more grrr from the back of the throat,  get some phlegm in there next time,”  he offers helpful advice and mocks her at the same time.  He checks his Rolex watch before putting his hands in his pocket. 

“No rush, I’m not cold.  You take your time to gather your thoughts, I’m sure you have many questions, you often do when we meet.”

Kelly takes a moment to check her equipment and clothing before even bothering with a response to him, finally she lifts her snow visor and looks at him with her azure eye.

“Fifty Umbraki pennies do not pay for a five course banquet Q!”  she says with a sharp slice of accusation.

“Oh you’re not still sore about that are you?  Sheik Las’ann would have been a good owner for you, his harems were some of the best on that planet, he did pay a very nice price for you.  I do hope you were able to serve him well,”  Q replies flippantly.

Kelly considers using Q’s eye socket as a pick axe target, she hefts the handle several times, twizzling it round.

“Yes I served him cold with a side of salad.  He decided to let me leave after that.  I guess my cooking was not to his liking” she says with sincerity, sniffling her nose and shrugging her shoulders.

“Kelly you really must stop trying to stick bits of sharp and pointy metal into people,” he chastises.

“You shouldn’t have left me there!”

“Would you prefer I left you here on the side of this mountain?”  he asks looking about the desolate landscape and sharp rocks far below.

She folds her arms and looks at him finally smiling she wags her finger at him.

“Ahaa gotcha, you need me for something!  You know apologies and bribes won’t work, so you try thinly veiled threats of impending doom instead,”  she says jabbing a finger at his chest. “So enough with all the games, who do you want dead and what’s in it for me?”

“Damn you woman, you're too smart to be Human,” Q grins and clicks his fingers, both he and Kelly vanish from sight, just as the ice ledge falls into the abyss below.

They reappear in another time and place, under the light and heat of another sun, golden and yellow, falling over brown rock and barren desert.  Q plays with the sand with the toe of his expensive leather shoes, drawing perfect circles.

“I do so like going to the seaside,” he sighs and swings both his arms “Breath deep, let the sea breeze fill your lungs Kelly.”

Kelly looks around for anything that looks like water, then back at Q.  She removes her battered tricorder from her belt and scans the vicinity, before closing it.

“Q we’re in a desert, I can’t find any water, let alone a sea breeze”

“Ahh but there was!” he whirls to face her. “Once long ago, this was the family home of your friends Mimps and Una,”  he says gesturing to the fallen down building Kelly had overlooked, then at the night sky.

“We stand now at the twilight of the federation and sentient life in this galaxy.”

She follows the direction indicated and gasps as she counts hundreds of shapes above her, all with a recognizable formation of warp cores, hulls and saucers.  This fleet moved like a shoal of fish, swimming through the inky black night sky.  Almost as if it shared a collective mind.  Kelly looked at Q for an explanation.

“Without a crew to guide her, without influence of other sentient life, with unlimited resources and a will to survive, to exist and,” he pauses to look at Kelly “To live long and prosper.  Like a teenager unfettered by parents she rebelled.  She went forth and multiplied, resulting in the destruction you see around us and the fleet overhead,” Q finishes with his arms spread wide, to emphasize his point.

“The Carolina,” Kelly gasps as realization hits her. “She did all of this?”

“Her and her kin yes,” Q nods. “Or she will do, if you don’t stop Seelowe taking control of her destiny, the clones are complete and are spreading out through time seeking the crew, and the Carolina itself.  It’s a race and you can guarantee the other races will be interested too.”  He rubs his hands together in glee.

“I’ve always rather enjoyed races, not to mention the quandary you face when you finally get to your precious ship, your Captain is lost to a Western holodeck fantasy, what happens to him in there may very well have fatal consequences to the Carolina, they are more closely linked now than they ever have been before.  It promises to be a most interesting observational study, the Q  are eager to see your solutions”

Kelly folds her arms and looks at him with a raised eyebrow of contempt.

“So I get to chase these Seelowes through time and space, eliminating them, finding the crew and…” she says her voice raising in tone slightly, “I need to find the Carolina herself, figure out a way to get onboard without getting vaporized, before liberating the Captain from the Holodeck? Whilst during all of this fending off just about every known race, faction and organization in this reality or any other??” she gestures to his tuxedo. “Whilst you..what?..go out for dinner?” she asks with incredulity.

“Yes with the Baron of Mumptinun, have you met him?  Big walrus of a thing, with tusks.  Quite the charmer he is,” he looks her up and down. “Still you were always a clever girl, I’m sure you can fill in the blanks as you go.  I recommend finding some Klingons you can work with, there seems to be several warrants for your arrest with the Federation, Romulans, Ferengi, even the Borg seem annoyed with you, I doubt even you can piss off a Klingon.”

Before she can speak he clicks his fingers and Kelly is stood atop a frozen Terrod mountain once more, the small winking lights of the Klingon listening post several snow filled valleys away.  She takes a deep breath and sets forth once more, her mind a jumble of thoughts, she tries to plan her next moves.  First she would need a ship.  Her footsteps crunched through the snow, grim determination in her stride.  The occasional mutter, curse or derogatory comment about the letter Q and its place in the alphabet the only sounds she makes.