(S)he is immortal, not because (s)he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because (s)he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance.
- William Faulkner, Speech upon receiving the Nobel Prize
A high mountain valley. The raw bite of fall in the crisp air. A small but cozy log cabin against a backdrop of towering pines. Snow on the surrounding peaks and curls of smoke rising from the stone chimney. A petite, short-haired woman standing before her on a gravel footpath. So many questions whirling around her mind; where to start? She decided the standard cliché interrogative was as good a place as any:
"Where am I?" Confusion.
"Safe."
"How did I get here?" Anxiety.
"You died."
"Is this the afterlife?" Dread.
"No."
"Who are you?" Curiosity.
"A friend."
"Do I know you?" Wariness.
"No."
"Listen here, you." Exasperation. "Either you start answering my questions in sentences longer than one syllable, or else I start wiping the walls with you!"
From around the corner of the little log cabin, a male voice called, "Better tell her, honey, or she might start throwing thunderbolts at you!"
"All right. My name is Kimberly Tycho. That's my husband over there, Garek Loran. You, of course, are Jasmine Phoenix, formerly of Banshee Squadron. We're 'Q'." That last statement was made as though it explained everything.
" 'Q'... I read a Starfleet report on you years ago... What do you mean, 'formerly' of Banshee Squad?" demanded Jazz.
"When you set off the C-12 explosives and killed the Jelly Brain in the dilithium mines of Rostella IV, the cavern you were in collapsed and the whole mountain fell on you. You would have been killed, but we snatched you out of there the instant before it happened," explained Kim.
Jazz suddenly remembered. The army of darkness, the Smelly Jelly Brain, the cavern, her wounds... the bomb... She shot a look down at herself, at her left leg which had been burnt to a charred stump by a disruptor bolt, and found it to be complete and whole, in perfect condition again. An involuntary shudder ran up her spine.
Kim watched her reaction to the recent and still painful memories with a measure of sympathy mixed with a healthy dose of admiration. "That was quite a noble sacrifice you made, Commander Phoenix," she said. "And all to save your friends. True to your philosophy -- 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.' "
"My friends! Are they all right?" asked Jazz hurriedly. In all the confusion of finding herself in this strange place, she had momentarily forgotten about them.
"They're fine, thanks to you," reassured Kim.
Jazz breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, at least I didn't 'die' for nothing," she said, but her comment was weighted with skepticism. She knew what the 'Q' were, had read all about them in the Starfleet report detailing the USS Enterprise's encounter with them on their way to Farpoint and several times thereafter. She knew what powers the 'Q' supposedly had, how it was possible that this young woman could have saved her simply by snapping her fingers, and how she could know everything about her -- as she seemed to... but this whole situation was just a little too far-fetched. What did the 'Q' want with her? She was nobody important. She was missing a critical piece of the puzzle.
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked, deciding to simply cut to the heart of the matter. "What's in it for you?"
When Kim answered, there was no hint of any sadness in her voice, yet to Jazz it seemed for a fleeting moment that a look of regret and loss flashed across the young woman's face. It was gone in less than a heartbeat, so she couldn't be sure afterwards she'd really seen it. "I did it because I was once a Banshee too, before I became a 'Q'," was Kim's astonishing response. "I guess I still feel a sense of camaraderie with the team. I couldn't stand by and let everyone get killed, so I helped as much as they'd let me."
"What exactly did you do?"
Kim suddenly got the look of someone who thought the answer to that was perfectly obvious. "Your mortal life was over, so we brought you here to the Q Continuum and made you a 'Q'!"
"I see!" said Jazz wide-eyed. That assertion would definitely require testing... later. Kim's motivations for her actions on her behalf were something she could relate to. Jazz found herself believing this young woman, though she still had a million questions.
Kim laughed and held up a hand to forestall Jazz. "Those can wait!" she said, obviously reading Jazz's mind. "First I want you to come meet Garek!"
She led Jazz along the gravel footpath around the side of the cabin. A man dressed in jeans, red-and-black checkered flannel shirt and an apron emblazoned with the words 'Kiss the Cook' on the front came into view. He was standing in front of a barbecue with a big fork in one hand and a plate of cheeseburgers in the other. At seeing the two women stroll up, he smiled (although Jazz could tell the warmth of the smile was mostly for his wife) and said, "Just in time. Dig in!"
Lunch was delicious and the company pleasant; Kim was a gracious hostess and Garek was witty and charming. Jazz got to ask many questions, and found the answers readily forthcoming and surprisingly unobjectionable. Finally, after three cheeseburgers and a slice of cherry pie for dessert -- apparently dying was a hungry business -- she asked the one last question that was burning in her mind.
"So what do I do now?" Now that she was dead, she meant.
Kim and Garek looked at each other and smiled. Kim turned back to Jazz and replied. "Why, anything you want!"
Jazz's own smile slowly spread across her face until she was practically beaming from ear to ear. A devilish glint appeared in her eyes. She was getting ideas already...
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