Web hosting Custom Email SiteBuilder

            z

How can I go on as I am? Two young boys are dead because I made a miscalculation. As I sit at Grandma's bedside and pray for her recovery, I wonder if her death will be on my hands as well. I've never followed any religion seriously. Father has told me about Sto'Vokor, the place where the honorable Klingon supposedly go when they die. Yet I have never thought too hard about whether I believe in it or not.

Until now.

I can't bare the thought of losing Grandma. What will I do if she's no longer around? Where would I go? Reaching out to grasp her hand, I pray hard to whatever god is listening. I don't know if the Q have a god or if any of them even believe in one. I don't know if the same god governs all universes. I only know that, as a Q, I have discovered the limits of my powers. I cannot save Grandma with the click of my fingers.

And I feel defeated.

Mr. Homn is standing just outside the door as if he can guard his mistress from the wrath of any Q. I sense that he wishes to join me by her bedside, but fears he would be overstepping his bounds. He has been so loyal to Grandma for many years. What will he do if she is no longer around to serve?

Doctor Whitman, a tall, thin middle-aged man still with a full head of hair, returns to perform his routine scans. He presses a hypospray against Grandma's neck and as I have done each time before, I pray for the medicine to stimulate her into consciousness. I sense he is uneasy about the lack of change in Grandma's condition. All her vital signs are stable and yet she remains in a coma. She should have responded to stimuli by now. "Try talking with her," the doctor advises. "At this point, it's the only treatment I can recommend. I will, of course, continue monitoring her and keep you apprized of any changes." He places a reassuring hand on my shoulder and then walks away to tend to another patient.

"Grandma," I begin, unsure what to say to her. "I'm so sorry for getting you involved in all this. I should have traveled to the Continuum when I left the Enterprise. I should have joined Q's faction. At least then, no mortals would have been caught in the crossfire." I fall silent, wondering if I should be talking about the Q war. I don't want to cause Grandma further distress. "Grandma, remember the night we sat in front of the fireplace eating utteberries and swapping stories? We should do that again some time. In fact, we should make a habit of it."

I share a story with her about one of the last days I spent with my brother. Strange how I haven't thought about Eric very much since I moved to Betazed. And yet I miss him terribly. "There was an emergency and Mother and Father were called onto the bridge. So Eric and I had to spend the evening alone. Normally, I spent my evenings in my room studying or reading a novel, but on this particular night, Eric was antsy for something to do. I didn't want him inviting Brett LaForge over, because....well, you know how annoying two boys can be when you place them together." I pause, almost expecting Grandma to respond. I stifle my tears and continue the story. "I offered to play a game with him and let him choose. He picked out a very old game from the computer data banks called 'Sorry.' It's a simple game, really, but it was the most fun I'd had in a long time. Sometimes I wish life could always be that simple with no worries. I'd trade everything for it, to have you come back to me."

Grandma remains unresponsive, her chest barely rising and falling to mark her shallow breaths. Leaning back in my chair, I resume my prayers. She has to pull through, or I will have no reason to continue living myself.

When the evening comes and Dr. Whitman tells me I should get some rest, I suddenly realize I haven't eaten all day. As a Q, I could simply turn off my hunger and forgo the need to eat, but it has been a pleasure I've been unwilling to give up.

I return to Grandma's house and after replicating a hot fudge sundae, I sit at her dining room table and delve into the desert. At the moment, the chocolate is the only thing keeping me sane. It dawns on me that this is a habit I learned from Mother and suddenly a pang of loneliness for her overwhelms me. If only I knew how to express my love for her anymore.

After I'm finished eating, I venture upstairs to my room. Usually, I spend my nights studying from the philosophy text or the Q padd, but tonight I'd rather induce sleep so the time will seem to pass by more quickly. I will return to Grandma's side at first light.

My thoughts of sleep are distracted by a flashing message on my computer. I consider ignoring it. If I don't open the message, I can pretend that I never saw it. Guilt plagues me, though, and I sit down to listen. Mother appears on my small screen, looking both physically and emotionally drained.

"Shannara," she begins and then stops as though unable to breathe. "I don't understand you. You wanted distance, so your Father and I gave that to you. You didn't send any communication to us, so we left you alone. But this....how could you get your Grandma involved with your bloody battles!" Her speech falters as she wipes at tears. "I don't understand. The Q are more important to you than your own family. Your Grandma may die and you still cling to your precious Continuum." She pauses again to take a deep breath. "Your Father and I will be taking the next available transport ship to Betazed. Hopefully, we won't be too late."

The message fades out and with it, my intention of sleeping the night away. I cannot waste time on ways to block my remorse. No. Tonight, I begin packing instead. Although I could simply click my fingers and transport myself and all my belongings wherever or whenever I choose to go, I somehow sense a wrongness in that. Despite all my powers and all my Mother's accusations, there is still a part of me grounded by my upbringing. If there is ever to be a chance of reconciling with my parents, I must not lose sight of that no matter how deeply it becomes buried within me.

I grab my two away bags from the closet and begin stuffing clothes inside one. The other, I pack with books, my data padd and whatever else I happen on in a hurry. As I stand in the doorway with my handbags draped over my shoulder, I take one more glance back into my bedroom and spot the age-worn stuffed dog that had been a gift from Captain Riker so long ago setting on my dresser . Dropping my bags, I quickly retrieve it. The material is thread bare and some of the stuffing has come out through a tiny hole behind the left ear, but I hug the toy against me as fiercely as the day I received it. "Give me strength," I whisper. The toy may be my only link to what was and what may never be again.

After I carry everything down to the foyer, I instruct Mr. Homn to ready Grandma's shuttlecar. During his absence, I make a reservation on the next transport ship leaving Betazed. Where it is headed is irrelevant. I have no idea where I am going.

I exit my room and do not look back again.

*****

The last call to board the USS Applegate is announced only moments after I arrive at the starbase. Mr. Homn, who had driven me in Grandma's shuttlecar to here, carries my luggage onto the loading ramp. Though he demonstrates his usual silence, he fixes me disapprovingly. I am a coward. How can I leave my Grandma at her death bed simply because I'm afraid to face my parents? I turn around, ready to tell Mr. Homn to take me back home when I am accosted by a middle-aged Catarrian man wearing a business suit.

"Are you Shannara Rozhenko?" he asks. When I nod, he continues. "I have a message from Dr. Whitman. Your grandmother has come out of her coma and is going to make a full recovery."

I beam with sudden relief and nearly hug the stranger. "Wait," I say, backing up a step. "How did you know to find me here? Who are you?"

"I am a friend of Q's...and a friend of yours, I hope."

He's from Faction 125, I realize, and can be trusted. "Can you send a message to her? Tell her that her granddaughter loves her very much and that I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused her."

"You won't change your mind and deliver the message to her yourself?"

"I can't." I glance furtively toward the boarding rail and see it is empty. All the other passengers have boarded and the Applegate is about to lift off. "I have to go." I dash toward the rail and am up the ramp and inside the small transport ship in less than a minute.

"You must be anxious to leave this paradise," an older woman says to me as I approach her to receive the information about my assigned quarters. "There's only a couple of tiny rooms left, but since you appear to be traveling alone, you should be fairly comfortable."

"I'll take whatever you have," I respond and she assigns me room 321. For some reason, it invokes the image of counting backwards and I wonder if that's the way of my life.

Before I arrive at my quarters, I feel the ship lurch slightly as it begins to lift off. A moment later, the inertial dampers kick in and the ride is smooth from that point. I enter the one-room quarters assigned to me and lay my handbag on my bed. Removing the journal and an ink pen I'd had replicated several weeks ago, I sit down on the edge of the bed to finally begin my first entry into the journal.

I've heard that keeping a journal is supposed to be therapeutic. It helps the writer to sort out feelings and discover answers that may be otherwise inaccessible. If I've never fully acknowledged my desperation for answers before, I cannot deny it now. I am an intelligent being with enormous powers. I can traverse the multiverse, create brand new worlds from my thoughts and destroy them with a click of my fingers. Yet, I feel lost and out of place. Where do I belong? Will I find happiness one day inside the Continuum? Or is it waiting for me somewhere in this world?

Hopefully, my travels will provide some answers for me. This ship is going.....

I stop writing suddenly with the realization that I never bothered to check the ship's roster to see where it was headed.

It's going nowhere, I think. I'm on an endless trip with no destination.

Shut up, Shannara! If you think like one defeated, you will always live out the role. Where should I go? I stand up and walk over to the console. "Computer, where is this ship headed?"

"Tau Ceti III," the computer drones.

"That's almost to Earth."

"Affirmative."

"I didn't need your confirmation, but thanks anyway." I consider my options for only a brief moment. "Computer, relay a message to Tau Ceti III and book me passage on the first outgoing ship to Earth after the Applegate's expected arrival."

"Acknowledged." The computer spent a few seconds processing. "The USS Ferrigut is scheduled to depart for Earth six hours after the Applegate's projected arrival. Reservations are being reserved for Shannara Rozhenko."

Smiling, I return to the edge of my bed and clutch my journal. At least now I'm going somewhere.