Fifth Novel Fiver: Q-Squared

[NAHTMMM]

(Haha, I just noticed, this is going to be the fifth novel fiver I've published, so it's like five squared! Get it? Heheheh . . . okay, fine, it's not funny. Whatever.)


Ohhhh boy. This is a big novel, it's got cross-dimensional shenanigans galore, and it's quite possibly the best Next Gen novel out there. If I had any sense I'd steer clear of trying to condense it like this, but apparently I don't. Have any sense, that is.

The result is long enough that I'll have to split it up into two parts, here.

Anyway, if you haven't read the book and there's the slightest chance of you doing so at some point in the future, you really should skip this as being awfully spoilery. Otherwise, plow ahead.
If you don't skip this, read the book anyway, if only because it's a fun ride. And it's not like I covered everything.




Q squares off against a super-omnipotent student of his who, furious because his beloved W/T is the only established Next Generation ‘ship not treated favorably in the book, decides to destroy the entire multiverse out of spite. Kinda puts C/7 in perspective, doesn’t it?


Baby Trelane: Goo-goo! Ga-gaa!
Q: You want to learn everything today? That's a bit too much, I think. Let's just focus on Philosophy, shall we? Today we'll learn about the Happy school of thought, starting with the legendary Barney of Dinos . . .

Jack: Good morning, Number One.
Jean-Luc: Hey, wait a moment! You're alive?! What happened to my captaincy? And Will?
Jack: What? Who?
Jean-Luc: Oops, sorry. Wrong timeline.
Jack: Anyway, time for exposition. My ex is coming aboard as Dr. Howard, Data’s weird, Geordi’s weird, the two of us are weird, and Worf’s freelancing. But you still don’t like children, and you’re still bald.
Jean-Luc: Some things never change.

Will: Stinks to be me. Both literally and figuratively.

Selan: I'll give you a choice. You can either kill this wretchedly miserable series crossover and have this slice of pie, or you can stick to your principles and continue to starve. Either way you’ll remain our favorite subject of torture, of course.
Will: THERE . . . ARE . . . FOUR . . . umm, what’s the word . . .
Turo: Buh? Have we tortured you beyond any capacity for coherent speech?
Will: Wait, what I meant to say is, would you two mind just giving me the knife and coming close enough to meet a sudden end already?
Turo: Of course not. No wait, I mean—GAK!
Selan: I most certainly do mind. Killed by a witless prisoner after giving him the knife to do it with — so humiliating! I'll opt for death at the hands of these invading Klingons instead. GAK!
Will: Worf, ol’ buddy ol' pal, you’ve saved me!
Worf: Umm, who are you? Have we met before?
Will: Oops, sorry. Wrong timeline.

Trelane: *taunt*
Yar: ATTACK KILL MAIM — eep!
Trelane: Okay, bored now. Bye! *poof*
Jean-Luc: And people wonder why I don't like children.

Picard: Ah, it’s so nice to be in a timeline where I’m Captain.
Sulu: Buh?
Picard: What I meant to say is, would you mind if I defeat you with a desperately clumsy bit of swordplay?
Sulu: Yes I would.

Martinez: I'm here because somebody finally caught on that all the really weird stuff happens to ships named Enterprise. And I wanna be there when it happens.
Data: Would a one-man game of volleyball on an uninhabitable asteroid be sufficiently weird for you?
Martinez: Only if the man in question can tell me all there is to know about spacetime weirdness.
Trelane: *poof* I'm willing to give it a try.

Trelane: Q doesn’t like you.
Guinan: I’m sorry about that.
Trelane: I don’t like you either.
Guinan: I said I’m sorry.
LaForge: The woman isn’t worth your trouble. Let me buy you a drink—
Trelane: *Zap!*

Q: I thought that I could train him just as well as my own mentor. I was wrong.
Troi: I'm sensing . . . pop culture references run amok . . .
Q: You know, next time I go to a mortal for advice, I think I'll ask a five-year-old. It'll be less embarrassing and more likely to be helpful.
Troi: Ooo, that gives me an idea!

Redshirts: Oh, pooh.

Trelane: Waah! Nobody listens to me, just because I’m a child!
Q: Stop that whining this very instant! You’re beginning to sound like Wesley Crusher.

Trelane: Waah! Nobody listens to me, just because I'm a child—yikes! Who are you?
Evil Trelane: I’m your future version of Darth Vader! You will now be assimilated. Resistance is futile. *Yoink!*

Evil Trelane’s Log: I just absorbed my younger, wimpier self, so henceforth I shall be known as “Trelane”. Everybody got that? Good.

Deanna: Thomas Riker, why did you beat up that boy at school today?
Tommy: *sob* He made fun of me for being telepathically challenged!
Deanna: *sob* I can't believe it. My own son, the target of politically incorrect prejudice! I thought he would be safe in TNG — and on Betazed, no less!
Tommy: Cheer up, Mother. I'm going to demonstrate my talent for dramatic foreshadowing by predicting today's news of Father's return from the dead!
Deanna: But that’s only to establish your credibility for when you predict his return to the dead!
Tommy: Details, shmetails.

Martinez: Eek! Wha…what’s going on? What am I doing here?
Trelane: It has just come to my attention that there has been a disgusting lack of innuendo thus far in this book. So on the spur of the moment, I decided we could talk about sex for a few pages, specifically about the feelings it inspires.
Martinez: But I’m a scientist, not a counselor!
Trelane: Hmm, good point.
Troi: Eek! Wha . . . what’s going on? What am I doing here?
Martinez: GAK!
Trelane: That’s odd, Counselor, she said the exact same thing!

Guinan: (singing) Powers like those of Charlie X can be such a painful hex, but Trey-lane be glad you aren’t named after that lad, or you’d be called Triple-X — *poof*
Charlie X: In the silence of space, no one can hear you scream . . .
Trelane: You keep out of this. It's my turn to be the child prodigy!
Spock: Just please avoid the chess puns, okay?
Trelane: Hey! You keep out too!

Troi: Would you mind if I use my professional reverse psychology to get you to do what I want?
Trelane: Yes I do.

Trelane: When I left you, I was the apprentice, now I am the master.
Q: Only a master of chaos, Trelane.
Lt. Worf: And you aren’t?
Trelane: Your powers are weak, old man. You should not have come back.
Q: You can’t win, Trelane. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than Picard can possibly imagine. Even if it takes me billions of years.
Trelane: More powerful than Picard can imagine? Pfft, that wouldn’t take much. *ZA-BLAM!* (turns away scornfully) . . . That one was too easy.

Picard: Would you mind if I use my amateur reverse psychology to get you to do what I want?
Trelane: Of course not.

Q’s Log: So now I’m a free-floating cloud of quasi-sentient energy? Obi-Wan never had to put up with this!

Crew of the Enterprise-C: GAK!

The Entire United Federation of Planets: Stinks to be us.