textfiles/sex/EROTICA/I/inner.txt

			INNER TRUTHS


     Copyright (c) 1995 by Christine Marie Faltz; cmfaltz@panix.com

[The following story is dedicated to all those who have persisted in their
requests that I write another ST story, despite my present circumstances --
I'm nearly two months pregnant.  (Yeah, thanks very much; just send money. :-
))  Given "all day sickness" and constant fatigue, this story will be a one-
parter and has not received the care and attention bestowed upon "Oh,
Captain, My Captain" so I make no promises.  I do promise some sex, though,
but not as much as you probably expect from me by now -- oops, perhaps I
should have worded that differently? Oh, hell --just enjoy the story.]

     (This story takes place during the sixth season of TNG -- it's one of
those voyages you folks in this universe didn't get to see because here,
large corporate entities are afraid of being honest about sex and sexuality,
and keep the truth from you.  This will explain a lot of things -- trust me.)

     "Captain's Log, Stardate 46823.9:  I have just been notified that
negotiations have been entered with a small class M planet in the Jerakis
system to determine whether the planet's inhabitants are suited to join the
Federation.  Apparently, the leaders of the planet's people, the Pinktarians,
have decided that their extreme isolation makes them far too vulnerable to
remain unallied.  They have informed us that they were not aware of our
existence until recently, soon after a disastrous blow to their economy
caused by a series of Ferengi exploitations of the planet's most significant
industries -- agriculture and technology.

     "The extent of the Pinktarians technological advancement is not known,
but it must be formidable for the Ferengi to have become interested.  We are
meeting with the Pinktarians' ambassador this evening and will then make a
visit to Pinktar to ascertain whether their admission to the Federation will
be mutually beneficial."

     "Riker to Captain Picard."

     "Go ahead, Number One."

     "We are in orbit around Pinktar and Ambassador Turamel is ready to come
aboard.  He has his wife and assistant with him."

     "Join me in greeting them, Commander."

     "Aye, sir."

     The three figures materialized before Riker, Picard and the Transporter
Chief.  All three Pinktarians were tall, dark-skinned and muscular.  They had
a barely visible sheen of hair, of a soft, silky appearance, covering their
heads and skin.  This hair ranged in color amongst Pinktarians, it seemed,
for each of their fairly uniform complexions was contrasted with a different
hue of this fine, light hair.  Their noses were tiny -- in fact, there were
no bridges to be seen, just tiny nostrils set very close together and
puckering slightly from their faces.  Their mouths were full, their teeth
startlingly white.  Their eyes were intense -- brilliant, piercing.  All
three were men -- or at least appeared to be of the male gender.

     "I am Ambassador Turamel -- and you are Captain Picard?"

     "Uh, yes, yes, I am," said Picard, embarrassed with himself for being
taken aback.  "And these gentlemen are?"

     "This is my -- wife -- I believe is the word used by your people,
Captain?  Jeminee.  And this is my assistant Clayta."

     "It is wonderful to meet you, Captain Picard," Jeminee said, holding out
his hand.

     "Welcome, welcome all of you.  We will be hosting a reception for you
tonight, myself, Commander Riker, and some others of my senior officers. 
Until then, perhaps you would enjoy a tour of the ship?"

     "That would be delightful, Captain," said Clayta.

     The tour was uneventful, as most tours are.  The Pinktarians were
impressed or visibly demonstrated so, and the conversation was pleasant and
uncomplicated.  At dinner, Picard was confident that he could learn far more
about the Pinktarians.

     "Thank you for assisting me with the replicator, Counselor Troi," said
Jeminee.  "I didn't think we would be eating Pinktarian food tonight."

     "Well, we certainly hope you'll try some of the menu we've selected.  It
will be easier now for us to make choices which you are more likely to find
palatable.  And please, Jeminee, call me Deanna.  I insist."

     "I'm sorry -- I'm so used to acting a certain way at diplomatic
gatherings."

     "I'm curious, Jeminee -- and please don't take this as a rude question. 
Most of the species we have encountered, or at least those that we have the
greatest contact with, have two genders -- male and female.  I am a female --
a woman.  Captain picard is a male -- a man."

     "Yes.  We have two genders as well -- we have studied the basic anatomy
information sent to us -- we apologize for not having put together any of
that for you yet.  There is still quite a bit of controversy and concern over
these negotiations on Pinktar."

     "So then your genders and ours are alike in more than a -- superficial
manner?"

     "Oh, yes, our reproductive systems work the same way as well -- and we
appear to be genetically compatible."

     "I see -- are most families made up of -- couples?  Wife and husband?"

     "I have chosen spouse from the dictionary sent to us -- it fits better. 
It seems your word 'wife' refers to a female companion after certain rituals
of matrimony."

     "Yes, that is true.  It's actually a rather archaic word -- we have
same-sex marriages as well -- but in fact, most people, whether they're
interested in the same or the opposite sex, do not marry on most worlds. 
Most families are rather extended on the planets -- made up of varying
relationships and arrangements."

     "How -- interesting," mused Jeminee -- Troi felt that he was ill at ease
however -- her ability to read the Pinktarians' feelings was greatly muted
for some reason, but she was fairly certain he was uncomfortable.

     "What are familial arrangements like on Pinktar?"

     "Oh, we have the radicals, you know the kids who want to fight their
family's beliefs all the way.  They wind up in situations like those you've
just described but our law does not recognize such -- anarchy, such
disrespect for the traditional family."

     "What is the traditional family on Pinktar?"

     "A man and another man -- *never* a woman -- marry.  When it is
determined that they are financially able to parent, and have undergone a
child-rearing course, they both are given permission to seek women who meet
their qualifications for bearing children.  The women have the right to
refuse any requests -- women are the bulk of our work forces and leadership -
- it was a fluke that my *chikmonshur* -- I'm sorry -- my husband -- was
appointed ambassador.  Though our son's  -- ah -- the woman who carried our
son to term thinks highly of him and believes he is well-suited to the task."

     "I see.  So if a woman does not desire to have children, she does not
have to because of her other responsibilities?"

     "Oh, no, no!  A woman must agree to birth at least one child -- as long
as she is able of course.  Admittedly, women who cannot fulfill this very
important function are looked down upon on Pinktar -- they have a hard time
of it and often their careers suffer for something which is beyond their
power."

     "What if a woman and man fall in love and wish to marry and have their
own children together?"

     "Deanna!  Please!"

     "I'm sorry if the idea offends, you, Jeminee, but why not?  If they love
one another, and the woman is generally able to provide, according to what
you've told me, why not allow her to marry and be with her child and a man
she loves?"

     "What you suggest is punishable by prison on our world -- a woman and
man cannot live their entire lives with one another.  There would be too much
opportunity for unauthorized births, and women would require time off from
work because of them -- no, no.  That idea is one which implies a life of
marriage for no reason except sex -- dangerous, irresponsible sex.  Unless
one intends to have children, one must not have sex with the opposite gender. 
If one seeks affection and sexual pleasure, one seeks the members of the same
gender.  It is simply the responsible thing to do.  The women marry other
women and seek their sensual pleasure from them -- sex between man and woman
is strictly for procreation."

     "Why not just procreate artificially then?"

     "Because according to our beliefs, a baby born in that way is stripped
of its spirit -- the spirit is bestowed during the joining of man and woman
for the sacred purpose of creating a child -- as long as their is mutual
consent -- and that is why pregnancies must be authorized -- to insure
consent."

     "So if a woman agrees, she fills out the certificate and files it with
whatever powers oversee this authorization?"

     "Exactly -- that is so each person is protected against charges of
wrongdoing by the other."

     My goodness, Deanna thought.  What a different world indeed!

     "Do women marry?"

     "Yes -- they do not have to -- marriage is only an institution created
by the state to record the potential family -- the male couple is taken care
of by the People because of their important child-rearing responsibilities. 
Of course, either man or both can work -- men who cannot have children or who
are deformed in some way and therefore unable to find a woman who will agree
to procreate with them provide child care for such working couples."

     "Why can't those same men care for the children of women who work?"

     "A woman is the carrier of a child, Deanna -- the proper caretaker is
the male.  He is larger, better able to protect the children from harm."

     "What type of harm is there on Pinktar that requires men to protect the
children?"

     "Deanna, this seems to be upsetting you -- I'm sorry that our society,
our culture, does not --"

     "No, no, -- forgive me.  It's just that I had a child once, and I cannot
imagine depriving an individual of at least the choice of having a child."

     After an uncomfortable silence, Deanna turned and sighed.

     "Well, it's time to join the others for dinner.  Shall we?"

	       ***            ***            ***

     Beverly looked over at Deanna several times during the meal.  She seemed
disturbed, uneasy -- not usual for Deanna when she hadn't sensed anything to
be concerned about -- and to the doctor's knowledge, no such concerns had
been reported to the captain.

     "Deanna, are you all right?" she whispered discreetly.

     "Yes -- I -- I don't know.  I have an odd feeling -- I'll talk to you
later."

     "Captain," Turamel was saying, "We were wondering if it would be too
much trouble to change your plans a bit for this evening.  We were hoping
that your crew and some civilians -- adults and children -- would join us for
a celebration of our planting festival.  You will miss the feasting, but the
dancing and the talent shows are quite enjoyable.  It would give you a chance
to see our home and to meet more of our people and to make them feel more at
ease as well."

     "I don't see why we can't accommodate such a fine invitation.  No
trouble at all, Ambassador."

     "Splendid.  About an hour after our meal, then?"

	       ***            ***            ***

     "Come."

     "Captain, I must speak with you," said Deanna, a slight frown creasing
her face.

     "What is it, Counselor?"

     "It may be nothing, sir -- but."

     "Go ahead."

     "I had an interesting but disconcerting conversation with Jeminee before
dinner.  It wasn't what he said -- it was how he reacted -- or rather, how I
believe he reacted.  I have quite a bit of difficulty reading the
Pinktarians, but -- I'm fairly certain that our picture of family life caused
him great distress."

     "What do you suggest?"

     "It appears that couples -- couples who are married or 'interested' in
each other are same-sex only on Pinktar.  I did not ask how prevalent dissent
was with respect to this -- certainly we don't have enough official
information yet to base any conclusion on, and Jeminee is not a
representative of the Pinktarians.  I may have been given a very biased
glance into Pinktarian family life.  On the other hand, until we find out
differently, I believe we should pair off as same-sex couples at this
festival, to facilitate our first encounter with the Pinktarians.  I'm
assuming that despite what I was told, there will at least be mingling of the
sexes at the festivities, but it won't hurt, since we are visiting their
home, to make an effort --"

     "Counselor, tell me more about this conversation you had and give me a
better idea of your thinking."

     "Certainly Captain."

     When she was finished relaying the conversation, the captain paced for
a while, asked the replicator for tea, then paced some more.

     "All right, Counselor.  I'll call a quick meeting -- there are only a
few minutes to go before we beam down and I suspect everyone is making
themselves ready for the festival.  We cannot ask the civilians to do this,
but hopefully, we, the crew, as the representatives of the Federation, can
smooth over any problems which may exist in this respect by our good faith
efforts."

     "Captain, this question is going to seem -- intrusive -- but I am
interested in the answer, if you are willing to share it."

     "What it is?"

     "Homosexuality is no longer considered immoral or deviant on most worlds
any longer -- indeed we have crew members and civilians who are comfortably
homosexual and nobody seems to mind, despite terrible histories for them on
most worlds, particularly humanoid worlds.  On the other hand, I know that
Worf is extremely uncomfortable with the very idea of homosexuality and
claims that he has never been interested in a member of the male gender of
any species.  What about you, Captain?  Have you ever had a relationship with
a man?"

     "No, Counselor, but even my relationships with women are not a subject
I generally discuss freely -- you know that."

     "I know, Captain.  I wasn't going to ask about the relationships if you
had had any -- I just wanted to know if the idea bothered you -- it hasn't
been an issue on Betazed for years, and the idea that heterosexuality
disturbs the Pinktarians seems just as foolish as old concerns about
homosexuality."

     "I see no reason why homosexual relationships should have ever been
problematic, Counselor, though as an amateur historian I am well aware of the
terrible persecution of homosexual men and women.  It doesn't make me
uncomfortable -- it never did -- I simply am not interested and never -- have
been."

     "Why did you pause, sir?"

     "Counselor," Picard said, lifting his tea to his lips "I have never
desired the -- company -- of a *man*."

     Deanna looked at him closely -- what was he saying?  Was their
heightened color in his face?  He regretted the -- hint? -- he had just given
her, she could sense that.  But what on earth had he meant?

     "Captain?"

     "Dismissed.  I'll call for a meeting shortly Counselor."

		    ***            ***            ***

     "I do *not* intend to be seen as *courting* a man," boomed Worf, who
looked furious.

     "Lieutenant, you can accompany Commander Riker and myself -- we will be
the three who beam down first to make sure the social environment is
appropriate for the civilians who have been invited to attend -- there will,
after all, be a few dozen teenagers coming along, which generally guarantees
some potential for trouble."

     "Aye, sir," Worf agreed grumpily.  He was not happy.

     "Data, you will go with Geordi; Counselor, you with the Doctor.  Have
appropriate pairings been agreed upon by the other crew members?"

     "Yes, sir, with only minimal difficulty," reported Riker, grinning.

     "Very well.  We have a party to go to."

	       ***            ***            ***

     The music was loud and grating, something most of them had not expected. 
Trees were festooned with garlands of brightly-colored flowers, ribbons and
paper; tents housed shows of varying taste and decorum; tables covered with
drinks and desserts lined the sweet-smelling, scarlet-tinted lawns.  The sky
had hues of blue, pink and gray, and as the two small suns descended side by
side, a breath-taking explosion of colors and patterns emblazoned the
heavens.

     Men, women and children milled about, talking and laughing.  Picard
noticed that the women generally stayed with women, however, while the men
circulated with relative freedom of will.  Small children seemed inordinately
fascinated with the women of both their own species and those of the
Enterprise -- especially the Pinktarian girls.  Deanna's heart ached to see
the young girls stare longingly at the knots of congregated women, the desire
to join them etched into every line of their faces.  The smallest imitated
the movements of the women -- their facial expressions, their hand gestures,
their dancing.  But both little boys and girls kept their distance from the
women -- it seemed the same distance they kept between themselves and the
newcomers.

     "So, Deanna, shall we dance?" Beverly grinned.  "Let's head over and
talk to some of those women and get a better idea of what this place is like
for them."

     "I don't know if I want to find out, Beverly," Deanna said, but she
allowed Beverly to take her arm and lead her to what had apparently been
designated by sheer use the dance floor.

     "Oh, come on, Deanna -- this isn't like you.  This is their world, their
people, their customs.  They look happy and contented for the most part.  I'm
sure we seem as strange as they are to us.  Why am I telling you this,
though?  You're usually so sensitive to accepting cultural differences."

     "I know, you're right, of course.  It's just -- I'm -- I'm feeling -- as
if there's something just below the surface here, something wild and
unreasoning."

     No sooner were the words out of her mouth than there was a muffled
scream, followed by a rising tide of voices, chanting something.  Deanna saw
one of Alexander Roshenko's friends rush toward Worf, screaming, other
children from the Enterprise racing toward Captain Picard and Commander
Riker, all three standing about talking to Pinktarians in the same general
location.

     There were more screams.  Deanna saw rocks being thrown, then saw a wave
of adult Pinktarians descending upon an area approximately a quarter mile
from where she and Beverly stood.  They raced toward the spot together,
noticing as they grew closer torn bits of clothing and some blood-spattered
blades of grass -- Dr. Crusher knew it was blood only because of her
tricorder -- the color of the grass otherwise concealed the fact.

     Alexander Roshenko, one of his best friends Rashina and another little
boy and girl lay together in a heap, curled up, trying to protect their heads
and faces.  A small group of prepubescent boys stood over them, wielding
sticks and rocks.  Beyond this, three burly Pinktarian males were fiercely
beating Tamal, Ensign Jermel's 23-year-old son.  His girlfriend Alie stood
helplessly nearby, eyeing a tooth in her hand -- a quick look by Dr. Crusher
revealed it was Alie's own tooth.

     "What is happening here?" Commander Riker with two swift kicks and a
ferocious punch sent the Pinktarian boys sprawling.

     "Don't you touch my son in that manner, you savage!" a Pinktarian man
hurled himself at Riker.

     "Everyone!  Everyone stop now!"

     Immediate silence.

     An impossibly tall woman strode over to the scene, wielding some form of
weapon.

     "What happened here?  Is this any way to treat our guests?"

     "They were *dancing* with girls," spat the boy whose father had recently
shouted his protest at Riker's interference.

     "No wonder," his father declared.  "How do you expect my son to behave
in the presence of such irresponsible behavior?  Why, if he hadn't done
something drastic, they might have -- they might have -- and in *public*!"

     "Our people have more self-control than do yours, quite obviously,"
shouted Tamal.

     "Please, please, enough!"

     Captain Picard stepped out to stand beside the woman who had addressed
the crowd earlier.

     "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard.  This incident has occurred because we
haven't become acquainted with one another's differences yet, and it is easy
for such ignorance to lead to misunderstanding and often, as it has just
done, to violence.  But ignorance can be resolved.  We are different
culturally -- that is obvious.  But in so many ways, we are very much alike. 
This meeting -- these entire negotiations, -- are meant to ascertain whether
we can find enough of a common ground to work together for our mutual
benefit."

     "That is all nice talk, but I want something done about this incident,
Captain," Tamal's mother hissed.

     "Look at them!" shouted an adult Pinktarian.  "These people *marry*
members of the opposite sex -- scandalous!  They think that because they
control their reproduction with medicines and machines that it is all right
to live and behave so irresponsibly.  Why, think of all the children they
have who are without spirits because of their technology.  Imagine -- using
technology to promote this 'self-control' this one spoke of before.  If you
had so much self-control, there would be no need for such technology.  If you
required pleasures of the flesh, the All-Seeing One has provided you with a
natural option -- members of the same gender."

     "That is disgusting." said Worf.

     "What exactly is disgusting about it?" snapped Jakira, turning and
kissing her lover Sardil deeply.  Both women were Enterprise civilians.

     "See?  There you are!  She is clearly a woman of great spiritual
strength -- she knows the true nature of how it should be!  At least there is
hope for you."

     It took nearly an hour for Picard and Liala, the Pinktarians' First
Woman, to disperse the crowd.  While the involved families were taken to see
a mediator, Captain Picard met with Liala and Ambassador Turamel.

     "Obviously, full membership in the Federation cannot yet be
recommended," Picard told them.  "I do recognize your desire for protection,
however, and from what I have seen and from what I have been told, the
Pinktarians have significant resources that can be shared with the
Federation.  A treaty is probably the best first step -- as for full
membership, that can be reconsidered in a few years, while we work together
on accepting each other's differences and boundaries.  We must respect one
another, even if we never fully accept those differences."

		    ***            ***            ***

     Picard climbed into his bunk but had trouble falling asleep.  He
recalled the hatred in the eyes and in the hands of the Pinktarian boys --
brutal fear and dislike for the unknown, the different.  He recalled the ugly
gash in Alie's mouth, the welts, bruises and bloodied wounds on Tamal's body. 
And suddenly, he recalled Q's trial of the Enterprise crew for the crimes of
humanity and he was revolted by the thought that the Pinktarians might have
to go through a period as vicious and cruel as the twentieth and twenty-first
centuries, when being a homosexual on earth could get one fired, socially
ostracized, seriously injured, disowned by one's family, or killed.  Oh, this
had been true as well for many centuries before these, but when homosexuals
refused to be closeted, when they and their sympathizers raised their voices
and pooled their resources, demanding their right to live and love as they
desired, it became much, much worse for a while.  

     "I'm so flattered, *mon Capitan*!  Thinking about me twice in one
evening -- a first, isn't it?"

     Picard spun around and found Q, completely naked, lying close beside
him.

     "Q!  Clothe yourself!"

     "Oh, Jean-Luc, don't be so coy!  You remember your little conversation
with Counselor Troi a few tiny hours ago, don't you?  She didn't know what
you meant, but *I did!  As if I haven't known all along, darling.  Still --
so flattering to have you *almost* admit it!  A coup for Q!"

     "Get out of my bed right now!"

     "Oh, not even a kiss, Picard?  If I had feelings, they would be sorely
hurt.  As for my ego -- oh, a mere dent, but I'll survive.  Come on -- I
guarantee it'll be the best, sweetest kiss you've ever had -- much better
than any you've shared with that doctor of yours.  And I know you kiss better
than Vash -- I've tested you, Jean-Luc, from her memories."

     "Get out!"

     "All right, all right.  How about now?"

     Picard was startled.  The voice was Q's, but the body was not.  It was
long-limbed and supple, silky white skin with a rosy hue.  Her hair was thick
and brown, shoulder-length, her eyes a dreamy mocking brown.  Her breasts
were -- well they were perfect, large dark red nipples erect, pulling at his
eyes to come back to them again and again.  Her smile was all Q.

     She leaned towards him and leaned on her right elbow, grinning.  She
moved closer and placed her hand on his naked stomach.

     "*Mon Capitan*, you know you want to know what sex with me would be
like.  You have dreamed about it in fact -- bah!  Your silly little mortal
imaginings!  Crude, very crude.  Shall we?"

     Picard couldn't move -- not that he couldn't -- Q wasn't holding him or
preventing him in any way.  His eyes were locked on Q's new form -- the eyes
weren't much different, though -- in fact . . . oh yes, Q was there, the
usual Q.  Picard glanced down -- still female, still -- incredible.

     A sudden wave of hot, throbbing pleasure coursed through Picard -- it
was several dizzying seconds before he realized that Q was kissing him. 
Picard was on his back, the long, lithe body which now housed Q massaging his
chest, his legs.  He didn't know when it had happened, but he was inside Q --
and -- and -- even more unbelievable, given Q's present form, Q was inside
him.  He could feel it -- it felt as though -- or at least he supposed it did
-- he had a vagina -- yes!  Though his eyes told him he was inside a
beautiful woman, he was the one being penetrated.  Thoughts materialized then
disappeared in confusion -- snippets of ideas -- to push Q away -- to fight -
- to scream -- even to beg.  But every one of these inclinations vanished in
the haze of sensation which seemed to become more intense with every breath. 

     A hot ball of excitement seemed to split in his mind and empty
throughout him -- "I'm making love with Q. Q!  No!  Yes!"  He tried to push
the thoughts away -- then discovered he wasn't trying -- they were melting
away -- pleasure was so all-encompassing that he couldn't think if he had
wanted to -- but he didn't want to.  He concentrated on feeling.

     "And finally you surrender," Q teased, the voice hanging in the air
between them as Q continued to kiss him.  Picard did not understand how he
was able to breathe -- his artificial heart was galloping away; blood
whooshed hot in his head.  He had momentary pangs of fear and doubt: He was
being made love *to* -- not making love *with* Q.  Even if he wanted to --
even if Q wanted him to, the latter just wasn't within his power.  Q would
know what he felt like before he did anything, would anticipate everything he
was going to do -- there would be no surprises for him.  He was completely
and utterly submissive in this encounter -- his movements, his reactions, his
excitement all choreographed by Q's ability to manipulate him masterfully. 
Oh, Picard knew *he* was responding to Q -- Q was not orchestrating his
desire.  He had wondered not only what it would be like to have Q's powers,
but also what it would be like to allow Q to do what he liked with him.  This
was the reason of his impatience and seeming revulsion toward Q -- certainly,
Q's morality left a lot to be desired, but Picard often encountered beings
whose vision of right and wrong did not correspond with his own.  No, his
animosity had gone much deeper and was much more personal.  He found Q to be
undeniably magnetic -- in the back of his mind he always felt that Q was
watching him, and often found himself hoping that he was.  A few times when
holding Dr. Crusher close and kissing her, he would fantasize briefly that
she was actually Q, that Q was once again having fun with him, playing a
joke, and that at any moment, he would be caught up in a whirlwind of passion
he could barely comprehend or survive.  All the while, he knew Q could be
aware of these desires -- in fact, his conviction that Q *knew* all also
incited his anger toward him, particularly in front of his crew -- he was
terrified that Q would call attention to his feelings in public -- the worst
humiliation -- or at least damned close to the worst.

     "Oh, Jean-Luc, your picture of me has been so painfully sadistic," Q
cooed into his ear, tracing it with his tongue.  "What would you like me to
do to show you I have nothing but soft feelings toward you -- as you can see,
only the feelings are soft."

     Q pressed his -- her -- perfect breasts against him for emphasis and
took Picard's wrists tightly in hand.  

     They were in complete darkness.  Picard could see absolutely nothing. 
He felt Q's arms around him; they still kissed deeply, and yet, the captain
was now experiencing the most incredible blowjob he had ever had.

     "Oh, yes, Jean-Luc; you are completely mine now.  Right now, every one
of your thoughts, every atom of your being, is mine -- they belong to me. 
Inside and out, you are completely possessed by me -- and what is so
exquisitely delightful is that you want it that way.  Do you know what your
flippant bartender said a few years ago, when I was helplessly human and
under attack in Ten Forward?  I don't know quite why it has come to me at
this instant, Jean-Luc.  She said, 'My, how the mighty have fallen.'  Or some
drivel like that.  Now why would I think of such a silly thing like that at
this tender moment, *mon capitan*?"

     Picard was barely aware of the words -- his own self-awareness was in
jeopardy amid the torrent of sensations Q was dragging him through and
frowning him in.  At each glimpse of full awareness, he would start, only to
find himself drained of energy and will.  As soon as he relinquished his body
and mind wholly again, he regained all of his energy -- and then some. 
Whether he would survive this encounter remained to be seen, but for the time
being, he opened himself to all that was happening and closed himself against
the strangled scream somewhere inside him that told him he should attempt to
stop it.

			The End