PROLOGUE:            When Vulcans are pledged in marriage at the age of seven, the young couple perform a mind meld which forms a link between the two, directing both to consummate the act at the time of pon farr later in their lives.  Deltans also link their minds in a similar manner with mates and close friends.  In both cultures, the act is known as bonding.

            While very rare, it has been known on occassion to occur among members of other species as well, and not always by choice or expectation.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            It all began innocently enough...

 

 

Personal log, stardate 45263.6:

Due to the shortages of deep space assignments and constant rotations that still plague the fleet since the battle of Wolf 359, I have found myself assigned to the security department aboard Starbase Pennsylvania rather than the starship assignment I had hoped and expected after leaving the Al-Batani.  Hopefully this is only a temporary assignment that will not last long.

Lt Peter J. Koester, out.

 

 

Space, the Final Frontier...

 

Star Trek: Personal Logs

 

“The Bond – Special EditionBy PJK

with Donna ‘Q’ Rossi and Philip Comins

 

 

            Koester stood guard at his post, one of the security doors aboard the deep space station Starbase Pennsylvania, a major hub of transportation in the Beta Quadrant for both civilian travelers and Starfleet personnel.  Busy concentrating on his job of checking ID badges of the passing personnel and making sure no one unauthorized to enter the strictly Starfleet sections of the base could pass, he did not notice in particular the young officer in the blue uniform when she passed by.  Nor did he notice when she glanced back at him after passing.

 

*          *          *          *

 

One Year Later - Starbase 45

 

            “Please have your identification ready as you pass the checkpoint,” Lt Koester announced as he cleared people through the doorway.  As the line passed through the checkpoint, he noticed the familiar looking face approach.

 

            “Hello again,” he said.

 

            She was a lieutenant, like himself, wearing the new style of Starfleet uniform, with the shoulders colored the science/medical department blue, unlike Koester’s older uniform with it’s gold-colored torso.  She had the dark brown spots of a Trill running down each side of her face that matched the color of her long hair which she wore as usual pulled back into a pony-tail.

 

            Koester had seen her passing by his post a number of times during his assignment aboard Starbase Pennsylvania.  After a short time something about her stuck in his memory.  He was surprised to see her here.  She smiled as she approached the checkpoint.

 

            “Hello,” she replied.  “What are you doing all the way here at Starbase 45 now?”

 

            Koester glanced around at the peeling bulkheads of the Roosevelt Recreational Facility, a seldom used section of the starbase, before answering, “Only temporary... I hope.  I’m still waiting on a starship assignment and well...  Here I am.”

 

            Both lieutenants smiled slightly as the young woman quickly flipped her ID and moved through the door.  Koester was somewhat disappointed that the conversation had not lasted longer as she started down the adjoining hallway, and he called out after her, “Oh, by the way...  My name is Koester.  Peter Koester.  I’m afraid I didn’t catch yours, Lieutenant.”

 

            The young woman stopped about halfway down the corridor and smiled back toward Koester.  Over the noise of the crowd he was not entirely sure what she replied, but as she continued on toward her destination, it had sounded like, “Cue.”

 

*          *          *          *

 

Five Months Later

 

Personal log, stardate 46572.3:

Interesting devices, these padds, although I had to inquire from the computer what the stardate was...  Why does time have to be assigned in such a haphazard manner?  Anyway...  I must remind myself not to record anything which could be used by the enemy...  Trivialities then.  I’ve located myself at the Roosevelt Recreational Facility, which has a servicable medical unit;  Could be quite useful.  Since arriving, I’ve made the acquaintence of an up-and-coming young lieutenant named Peter Koester, who could also prove useful if manipulated properly.  The two of us work the security detail, which is a common enough job for me.

Philip Winters, out.

 

 

Personal log, stardate 46572.3:

A bright moment in my dreary life here at the Roosevelt RF.  I just found out during a conversation with one of my fellow security officers, Lt Phillip Winters, that the USS Passageway is arriving at the starbase today.  I’m hoping my favorite Trill is aboard.

Lt Peter J. Koester, out.

 

 

            Both Koester and Lt Phillip Winters moved around the station, Winter’s seemingly ever-present satchel hanging from his shoulder, the two making checks on the output guages of the facility cooling systems along Roosevelt’s rusting corridors when the two noticed the other young Starfleet lieutenant.  A smile came across her face as she noticed them both stop what they were doing and approach, and Winters noted that Koester’s face had also brightened, though ever so slightly.

 

            “Ahh, if it isn’t my favorite Trill, back to visit once again,” Koester said with a smile.

 

            “Hi, Peter.  I see you’re still here on your temporary assignment,” she remarked with a slightly cruel smile on her own lips.  She then gestured toward Winters and added, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lieutenant friend?”

 

            “Lieutenant Phillip Winters, may I introduce...  Excuse me if I’m mispronouncing this...  Lieutenant Cue.”

 

            “Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant,” Winters said quietly.  “What brings you to this lovely starbase?”  Winters slowly turned around in a full circle to take in the entire crumbling and decrepid view.

 

            “Oh, just the usual,” the Trill lieutenant replied.  “Starfleet business, along with using the opportunity to see old friends and make new acquaintences.  What have you both been up to?”

 

            As the three officers spoke, the young woman sensed something strange about this new friend of Lt Koester’s.  She decided she would have to find out more about him.

 

            “Well, for one thing, I’m putting in a transfer request to Starbase Pennsylvania.  I can’t take it here much longer,” Winters replied blandly.  He looked at the Trill lieutenant, sensing somehow she did not quite believe him.

 

            “I know exactly what you mean,” Koester said, oblivious to what was occurring between his two acquaintences.  “I was told this was only a temporary assignment that should only have lasted a few weeks.  Here it is, almost six months later.  And I haven’t seen my family back on Penn in ages.  Besides, I hear they’re refitting that station soon, modernizing the facilities.”

 

            “Yes, I heard that too.  I hope I can get an opportunity to snap back there myself some time soon,” the Trill woman added.

 

            The three officers continued their conversation as Koester and Winters resumed their rounds of the corridors.  After another half hour had passed, the young Trill noticed some other friends she had not seen for some time and said her goodbyes to the two lieutenants.  As they watched her disappear around a corner, Koester admitted something to Winters.

 

            “You know, if I weren’t married, I’d ask her out,” he said.  “She’s really cute.”

 

            “Personally, I don’t think she’s your type,” Winters replied, slowly shaking his head.  There was definitely something quite different about the young lady with the spots.  Something he could not put his finger on.

 

            “Maybe.  And besides, I think she’s more interested in you anyway,” Koester added.

 

            “Whoa,” said Winters firmly.  “Not interested.  Not that I wouldn’t appreciate the attention, mind you, but now is not a good time.”

 

*          *          *          *

 

            In the months that followed, Koester had still not been reassigned.  So as not to draw attention undue attention, Winters would occasionally fill out transfer request denial forms like the ones he had seen Koester receive so often and send them to himself.  However, Koester continued to grasp at every opportunity, and eventually things finally worked out right.

 

            Peter Koester accompanied Phillip Winters on his regular security detail.  However, this time, Koester wore the new style uniform with red shoulders signifying the command department and four gold pips on the collar and an unusual item for a Starfleet uniform, a ballcap with the name USS Hudson PSV-01.  Winters, while likewise wearing the new style jumpsuit uniform, remained in operations gold.

 

            “I’m letting everyone know today that I’m transferring soon,” Koester told Winters as the latter stood guard by one of the many doors that accessed the RRF’s secured spaces.  “It’s an excellent opportunity I just couldn’t pass up.”

 

            “We’ll miss you around here, Pete,” Winters said.  “It started to seem like you were a permanent part of the facility.”  Because of what was going on around the station, Winters had to stay where he was for the time being.  He was truly sorry to see Koester leave, since he had been a tremendous resource of Starfleet information.  Yet he knew the seperation would only be temporary.

 

            “Hey, we all have to move on somehow.  And the Preliminary Survey Program in the Gamma Quadrant is a great opportunity!”  Koester unconsciously rubbed the four pips on his collar.  “As you can see, I moved up pretty quick.  It almost makes up for all that time I was stuck on these starbases.”

 

            “When do you expect to be leaving?”

 

            “Around stardate 47950 if everything goes right,” Koester replied excitedly.  “I’m definitely going to throw a party before I go.  You’ll come, right?”

 

            “I’ll try and fit it into my schedule,” Winters replied, starting to reach toward his satchel before both of them noticed a smiling, familiar face approaching.

 

            “Hi guys,” the young Trill woman said.

 

            “You’re back!” both men said simultainiously.  Winters could easily guess why Koester was glad, but he himself was curious about this woman for other reasons.  He wanted to know more about her, especially the innate abilities he sensed she somehow possessed.  Would she prove useful to him, or would he have to be rid of her?  He was not sure yet.

 

            “Did you expect less?”

 

            “I swear sometimes it seems the Passageway visits this station more than every other starship in the fleet combined,” Koester remarked.  “Though I’m glad to see you.  I have some good news to share.”

 

            “So I noticed,” the Trill woman commented.  “Does the promotion mean you’ll be leaving soon?”

 

            “Finally, yes,” Koester said with a broad smile.  “I hope I’ll be able to keep in touch with you.”

 

            The lieutenant explained she was on her way to a meeting that she was already running late for.  “I’ll track you down later and we can talk then,” she offered as she hurried down the corridor, the two men watching her depart.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            A few hours later, Koester managed to track down his favorite Trill.

 

            “Nice stubble,” she commented as she ran the back of her hand across the new captain’s cheek.

 

            “Didn’t have time to shave this morning,” he replied with a blush.

 

            “That’s alright,” she commented with a smile.  “I like stubble.”  And again she ran her fingers across the side of his face.  Koester smiled slightly.

 

            “What would your wife say about that?” remarked Commander McCurry, who had been standing nearby.

 

            “What my ex-wife doesn’t know won’t hurt me,” Koester replied jokingly.  “Besides, it’s harmless.”  He then turned back toward his friend, who had briefly found herself thinking, ‘Nevermind...,’ saying, “Before I leave the sector to start training for my new assignment, I’d like to know how I can get in touch with you.”

 

            The Trill looked up at the taller human man with narrowed eyes and, after a moment’s thought, said, “I’ll give you my ship’s nominal comm frequency and my personal access code for an exchange.”

 

            Koester’s face twisted in puzzlement.

 

            “In exchange for what?”

 

            “Your cap,” she said with a smile.

 

            “My... cap?”  Koester was torn.  He really did not want to give up his new cap, but he did not want to turn down the petite officer either.  After a moment’s thought he finally came to a decision.

 

            “I’ll give you the cap on two conditions.  One: I get to keep the pin on it.”

 

            In the center of the cap’s face, between the name and hull number of Koester’s next assignment, was pinned the triangular emblem of the new Starfleet Preliminary Survey Program for the Gamma Quadrant.

 

            The petite woman nodded in agreement, then asked, “And the second condition?”

 

            “Two:,” Koester said as he took off the cap and began to remove the emblem pin from it.  “You tell me what your name, Cue, really means.  It’s too unusual to be a typical Trill name, joined or un-joined.”

 

            She thought for a moment, then nodded.

 

            “Deal,” she said with a grin.

 

            Koester handed the lieutenant his cap, which she immediately place on top of her own head facing backwards.  Not quite up to uniform standards, but the new captain was not about to reprimand her.  She turned for a moment, and when she turned back she was holding a piece of paper and what appeared to be an antique writing instrument.  Koester was not sure where she could possibly have been carrying the items, but shrugged it off.

 

            The lieutenant walked over to a nearby console and began writing down the USS Passageway’s personal comms frequency on it.  She then handed the paper to Koester and watched him expectantly.  There were only three lines written on the paper.

 

U.S.S. Passageway

Starfleet Frequency: 105.5

Q

 

            “That’s funny,” Koester said, pointing to the paper.  “I’ve read reports about beings called the Q.  Usually creating some kind of trouble of one kind or another.”

 

            The young woman nodded thoughtfully.

 

            “Yeah,” she said.  “The freaky dark-haired guy with the receding hairline.”

 

            Koester chucked.

 

            “You make it sound like you know him.”

 

            She nodded silently.  A moment passed in silence.

 

            And then it hit him.  Hard.

 

            “Wait a second.  You don’t spell your name C-U-E, do you?”

 

            She shook her head.

 

            “Just a Q?”

 

            She nodded.

 

            “One... single... Q.”  Koester stared at the petite woman.

 

            “You have nothing to be afraid of, Peter.  I would never harm you.  I like you too much.”

 

            Koester slowly started regaining a grip on himself.

 

            “You’re a being!” he said slowly.

 

            “Isn’t everyone?” she chuckled.

 

            “An... omnipotent being!”

 

            “Well, okay.  Not everyone is one of those.”  Again she chuckled.

 

            “All these years I was friends with an omnipotent being?”

 

            “The key word in your sentence being friend,” she remarked.  “And I’d like to stay friends.  And stay in touch.”

 

            She opened her arms, inviting Koester into a hug.

 

            “Friends?” she asked with a crooked smile.

 

            After a moment’s hesitation, Koester replied, “Friends.”  Then leaned over to hug the petite Trill... er, Q.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            When Koester had left to find the petite Trill officer, Winters took the opportunity to continue his mission.  So far no one had noticed the additional Starfleet crewmember appearing at the medical stations, and all of the cover stories had borne out.  The men and women, all human, had reported to the med facilities with injuries, then vanish to new ‘assignments’ shortly after healing.  Winters spent a small amount of time entering new names and ID’s into his padd, which routed its information flow through his personal computer, hidden back in his quarters and tapped into the Starfleet Headquarters mainframe.

 

            He also spent some time giving thought to vessel assignments; he was going to need a starship and soon.  The question was, which one would suit his needs?  Granting himself clearance to the ship would not be a problem; he could easily slice into the computer system and cut himself a set of orders, but there were other factors involved.  “The right ship for the purpose...,” Winters mused to himself.

 

            And then there was the young woman, Q, not spelled C-U-E as Winters had first thought.  Such a strange name for a being who was not part of the infamous Continuum.  Actually the name of the Trill symbion implanted in her abdomen.  Meanwhile, her Starfleet records, which he had tried looking into briefly, were quite good, noting typical citations and awards, all in perfect order.  Too perfect perhaps.  And since his own records were in good order as well, that fact was nothing to go by.  In fact, he found it totally unnecessary to continue looking through her records.

 

            She seemed so normal and used to being in the uniform that he would not have questioned her credibility had it not been for the feelings he got from her whenever she was around.  It was an odd tingling of unease that judt did not feel right, and he had learned not to disregard those impulses.  Who was the genius that had written; Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?  This mysterious woman was not the enemy, bot she could not really be trusted.  Yet.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Personal log, Lieutenant Q, stardate 47990.3:

It has been two months since the Passageway last stopped at Starbase 45.  While visiting there today, I ran into Lieutenant Phillip Winters.  His presense there only reminded us both of the absense of the third member of our unusual trio, Captain Peter Koester.  Since we have not heard from him of late, we can only assume he departed on his new assignment commanding one of the new survey vessels in the Gamma Quadrant.  But the big jerk never even said good-bye.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Several Weeks Later

 

            The ensign walked into sickbay aboard the starship Passageway.

 

            Q, this communique just arrived for you.”  He handed the Passageway’s head nurse the padd and departed.

 

            Q looked at the padd a moment, then pressed the button to read the message.

 

                                                Stardate 48041

                   Dear Q,

                   I bet you thought you’d never hear from me again...

 

            Excitement overcame Q as she quickly scanned through the message to confirm whom she thought it was from.  Sure enough, signed at the bottom:

 

                   Yours Truly,

                   Peter

 

            Q ran with the padd to her quarters and after reading through the full communique was quickly opening a communications channel to the small outpost where Koester was currently assigned.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            “...And things are going well,” Koester’s smiling face explained on the viewscreen.  “My new crew and I have been training with the converted survey vessel we’ve been assigned.  Now we’re scheduled to begin our mission on stardate 48340.  I’m now the commanding officer of the Preliminary Survey Vessel Hudson, which will help chart the Gamma Quadrant, reporting to the starship Sarek.”

 

            Q sat at the desk in her quarters, intently hanging on Koester’s every word, though why she felt the way she did even she was not sure.

 

            “I wanted to mention to you though,” Koester continued, “I’ve arranged to meet with Phillip Winters on Earth before I head out on my mission.  Stardate 48108.1.  Any chance you can join us?”

 

            “I’d love to,” Q replied enthusiastically.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Stardate 48108.2 - Manhattan, Earth

 

            Q made her way from the transporter pads toward the lounge at Penn Travelport.  She was supposed to meet Koester and Winters, the latter of whom she was told was unaware Q would be joining them, and she was running late.  Winters was probably already singing, which Q had learned during her last port call at Starbase 45 was the way he passed the time while waiting, undoubtably driving the poor captain insane.

 

            As she crossed through the port’s waiting area heading toward the lower level trams, Q caught sight of a familiar looking cap.  So familiar in fact it matched exactly the Hudson cap she herself was wearing.  And under that familiar cap was a familar, smiling face.

 

            Captain Koester walked over and hugged Q, mentioning as he did that he had already heard from Winters, who had contacted him that morning cancelling out on their meeting, never knowing Q was on her way as well.

 

            “Told me he had some paperwork he’d forgotten about, and it has to be submitted by tomorrow.”

 

            “Phillip?  Leave paperwork till the last minute?  That doesn’t sound like him.”

 

            Koester shrugged his shoulders, leading the way toward the sub-shuttle that would take the two Starfleet officers to lunch as he said, “Phillip is strange like that.  There have been a couple of times back at the RRF when it seemed like he had gone AWOL only to turn up right when the Security Chief would ask for him.”

 

*          *          *          *

 

One Month Later - Starbase Pennsylvania

 

            Captain Koester had returned briefly to the starbase where his daughter Gem was staying until the day she would move back to Earth to live with her grandparents while the captain began his mission in the Gamma Quadrant.  Once he had arrived, it was not long before he was volunteering to help the security team that would patrol the starbase during the special briefing that was being held aboard the station.  Commander Benjamin Sisko and Lieutenant Jadzia Dax, who together had discovered the Bajoran wormhole, had traveled to the base to brief the Starfleet brass on the most recent discoveries in the Gamma Quadrant, including the unsettling revelations of the Dominion, the Jem’Hadar and the mysterious Founders.

 

            However, a new face among the security team had caught the attention of Lt Winters, who had likewise found himself back at Starbase Penn.  Like a little puppy, Winters seemed completely smitten.  So completely, in fact, that when Q arrived the next day to attend the briefing, Winters was ignoring everyone he knew except the new security officer.

 

            “This is really beginning to bug me,” Q admitted to Koester as they spent time talking at Koester’s security post.  “I want to do something to make him realize he’s ignoring his friends!”  Koester nodded in agreement.

 

            “Like what?” the captain asked.

 

            “Well, I told him I had just recently gotten over an illness.  We can...”  And she started to outline her plan.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            Later that day, Koester was up on level 18, conversing with both Winters and the new security officer.  A short time later, as planned, Q came along.  She looked at Koester and as deadpan as possible simply said, “I’m tired.”

 

            “Okay, I’ll take you to bed,” Koester responded as rehearsed, and the two walked away, hand in hand.  Unfortunately, the direction they headed did not afford the captain the opportunity to see Winter’s reaction, but Q made sure to notice, seeing the man’s jaw drop open over her shoulder as he stared at the two departing officers.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            Twice more that day, Q made a point of passing by Winter’s security post, both times making rehearsed comments.

 

            “I wasn’t counting on Peter chewing spearmint,” she said the first time, making it quite evident she was chewing a piece of gum.  Later, she confided to Winters that, “...Peter makes noises like a chipmunk when he’s excited.”

 

            Both comments seemed to have been ignored, but Q could sense they were having the planned impact.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            It had been a long day at the conference and everyone who had worked with security was tired.  Koester had even started sitting down on a chair at his post rather than continue to stand directly next to the door he was guarding and which very few people were now passing through.

 

            Q, who had joined him for a while, sat on the deck in front of Koester, her back against his chair, as they continued their conversation, planning the next nasty implication they could make to Winters.

 

            “So what can we do to him now?” Koester asked as he massaged the medical officer’s tense shoulders.

 

            Q leaned her head back to look up at Koester.  It took some willpower for him to resist a sudden strong urge for a moment.

 

            “Well, how about implying you’ve had the opportunity to count all my spots?” Q suggested, also finding herself resisting a strange feeling.

 

            Neither one gave in to their feelings.  Both, unknown to each other, were afraid that if they were to act on their urges, it would scare the other and ruin a promising friendship.  In spite of the fact both were starting to feel some strong emotions, things for the moment remained unchanged.

 

            “Sounds like a good idea,” Koester replied.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            Several minutes later, after Koester had turned his security post over to another officer, he made his way back up to level 18, where Winters still stood guard with the new female security officer.  Koester placed his arm around Winters’ shoulder, a gesture Winters was not entirely comfortable with, and spoke in a low, conspiratorial voice.

 

            “Were you aware that Q has 246 spots?  ...And they’re all in alignment!”

 

            Both Koester and Q had intended to let the joke end with this last aside, but the comment obviously got to Winters.  Later that evening, after Q had returned to the Passageway and some of the security team gathered in the mess hall with Koester’s young daughter, Gem, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

 

            “How exactly did she come up with that number?” Winters asked, looking mildly annoyed.

 

            “Hmmm...?” replied Koester between bited of his sandwich and not entirely sure what ‘she’ Winters was referring to.

 

            Q,” he clarified.  “Where did she come up with that number of spots?”

 

            “Oh, that,” Koester said, knowing he should probably just confess and let the matter drop.  After all, his two year old daughter was sitting right across the table from him, but he could not resist using the last line both he and Q had come up with but never had the opportunity to use before the conference ended.  I counted them.  And it took me five tries before I got it right.  I kept getting... distracted.”

 

*          *          *          *

 

            The next day there was a message waiting on the screen in Q’s quarters aboard the Passageway.

 

TO: Q, Lieutenant, Head Nurse - U.S.S. Passageway

FROM: Koester, Captain, CO - P.S.V. Hudson

RE: Winters, Lt Commander

          I managed to use that last line we thought up.  The joke is still going.  Prepare for Phase II.  ~Peter

 

*          *          *          *

 

            It was just after the Christmas holiday on Earth, and New York City was still done up in holiday decorations and splendor when a transporter beam coalesced on the sidewalk into the form of Captain Peter Koester.

 

            Checking his chronograph and nodding to himself, he stepped into Penn Travelport.  Things were quite different since his last visit.  Aside from the fact the travelport was crammed with holiday travelers, the meeting that day with Q had been planned in advance not to include Lt Commander Winters attendance, because it would be today that Phase II would go into effect, though what Phase II would consist of even Koester still had no clue.

 

            A short time later, Q walked up the stairs from where the transport tubes on the lower lever were located, and smiled an uncharacteristic smile for a member of the Continuum when she spotted Koester.  The two hugged and Q once again rubbed Koester’s stubble, this time grown over the last couple of days especially for her.  Then, as the two walked off to conduct their fiendish planning against Winters, Koester started candidly speaking about a feeling he had recently begun to realize he had.

 

            “I have to admit to you, I’m beginning to feel almost like we’re some kind of soul-mates, you and I,” he said.  “Do Q’s even have a soul?”

 

            Q gave a very non-committal shrug, not saying anything about Koester’s comment as the two entered a nearby restaurant and sat down at one of the tables.  Soon, they were catching up on the events of the last month since the conference.  Eventually, as their food arrived, the conversation swung to the topic of their continued joke against Winters.

 

            “So, what did you have in mind for us to do to him now?” Q asked.

 

            Op:BOP-Phase II,” Koester replied.  A puzzled look covered Q’s face.

 

            Op:BOP?” she repeated, confused.

 

            “Yeah,” Koester continued as an evil/happy grin spread across his lips.  Operation: Bug Out Phillip.”

 

            “Phase II?”

 

            “Phase II,” Koester replied with satisfaction.

 

            As they spoke, Q found herself having to bolster up her self control.  The urges she found herself experiencing confused the hell out of her.  Physical attraction was something the Continuum would have to investigate further, she decided as she made a mental note and filed it away.

 

            “Well, like what?” she asked, returning to the conversation.

 

            Koester admitted he had not progressed much further than the name of the plan.  As they continued their meal, the two sat for a while in thought.  Then suddenly a look of revelation appeared on Koester’s face.

 

            “I know!” he exclaimed.  “You can send a communiqué to Phillip, but write it as if it were a letter to me.  Something along the lines of how wonderful a day we had and how you can’t wait to do it again.  Then end the letter with the comment that the hotel contacted you... Just use the name of some hotel in this area of Manhattan...  That I left something in the room we used and I need to get it back from you.”

 

            An identical evil/happy grin spread on Q’s Trill features.

 

            “Perfect!” she agreed.

 

            Having finally agreed on a new course of action for their joke, the two finished their meal and continued their conversation while Koester once again massaged Q’s tense shoulders before escorting her back to the Travelport where she would catch the tube back to San Francisco and the transporter station back to her starship.  For whatever reason, it still did not occur to Koester that as a Q, his companion could simply flash to anywhere in the galaxy she chose in an instant without any need of transport tubes, but she played the part of a mortal so convincingly that even he tended to forget her true nature.  And besides, his concentration was elsewhere.

 

            As they neared the lounge Q would use to wait for her transport, Koester stopped his companion near one of the building’s large support columns, out of the way of the people and aliens that rushed through the corridor.

 

            “As you know, the Hudson will be leaving for the Gamma Quadrant before I have another chance to visit with you again.”

 

            “I know,” Q replied sadly, looking like she had wanted to avoid this topic of conversation.

 

            “I’d like to make one small request before I leave,” Koester said.

 

            Q looked up at the captain’s face expectantly.  He took a deep breath before continuing.

 

            “Before you go, can I have a kiss?”

 

            The request we quite unexpected.  For a moment, Q hesitated, unsure for perhaps the first time in her 1202 years of existence of just what to say... or do.  Meanwhile, Koester interpreted her hesitation as fear or uneasiness.

 

            “...Of course, if you don’t want to...?” Koester added, somewhat uneasy himself now.

 

            “No, it was just... unexpected, that’s all,” Q replied, a slight blush darkening her Trill spots in spite of her omnipotent origins.

 

            She leaned forward and closed her eyes.

 

            Koester did likewise.

 

            And they kissed.

 

            No fireworks.  No special effects.  The Earth did not move beyond its usual rotation along its axis and revolution around Sol.  But in that simple kiss, the bond that had slowly been forming between the human and the Q became suddenly complete, and they were eternally intertwined for better or for worse.

 

            From that point on, neither of their lives would ever be the same.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Epilogue:        The bond that became complete between Captain Peter Koester and the soon-afterward Lt Commander Lotus Q that day was an unusual one.  It provided a psychic link between the two close friends, something very uncommon between two people of such vastly different species.  Whether the bond was the reason the two became closer or if that closeness in spite of the distance between them would have occurred anyway is a debate for philosophers, poets and telepaths.  But the relationship bloomed, at first less than a true romance but more than the closest of friendships.

            And because of the bond, both were able to sense each other’s feelings over vast distances.  Emotions, pain, sometimes even unclear images in their minds.

            And each drew strength from the other when needed.

 

            The letter that was written for Phase II soon after their holiday meeting was the origin of the pair’s eventual pet names for one another.  Addressed ‘Dear Peter-Pooh,’ it lead to Q eventually hang the moniker of ‘Pooh’ on her close friend.  The captain soon reciprocated by calling her ‘Poet’ for the poems she would write in her communiqués from time to time, a nick-name that was accidentally shortened to ‘Poe’ in one message and which quickly stuck.  When in less-than-formal situations, these are the names each uses for the other.  And no matter what the situation, Q will never be heard referring to the captain as ‘Sir.’

 

            The situation remained unchanged for a time, both enjoying how their friendship had developed over the distance of light years, until stardate 49367.9, when a new science officer was assigned to the crew of the brand new starship USS Dauntless...

 

The End

 

Return to 2369.

 

Return to Stories Archive.