"Space... The final frontier...
These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise.
Its continuing mission: To explore strange new worlds... To seek out new life; new civilisations... To boldly go where no one has gone before!"
The bridge crew of the Enterprise just looks agape at their orator. The familiar speech just doesn't sound right when it's delivered with spoonfuls of sarcastic smarmyness.
"Q!"
"It's catchy, I like it. Stole it from the keynote speech of mon Capitane there, back on the launch day of this fine vessel. A bit of history, though - did you know Jean-Luc himself stole it from the logs of the inimitable Kirk? - well, an homage, I'm sure he'd say.”
Q saunters around the bridge, and momentarily loses himself to a tangent.
“I liked Kirk, he was a man of action, a man of passion, not this namby-pamby diplomacy you use at every opportunity. I always wondered why it was that such an upstart little species believed itself so much more enlightened, more liberal, and more empathic than the rest of the universe, how you thought you could solve everybody's problems just by talking. The quadrant’s youngest civilisation, teaching everyone else how to be civilised. Please. I mean, you even tried to remove any trace of possible offence from the original text, Jean-Luc. Boldly go where no-one has gone before? It just doesn't scan like the original, sacrificing impact for... for what?"
Picard rises angrily from his chair. "Why are you here, Q?"
"Oh, just another of my little games. I want to test your theory."
"What theory?"
"That you can solve your problems just by talking."
And with that, there was a flash of light, and your eyes felt numb. When your sight returned, a few seconds later, everything was perfectly clear - everything, that was, apart from the rest of the crew, who were shapeless grey lumps.
"Where are we, Ensign?" bellowed the blob that was sat in the Captain's chair. He didn't sound like Picard - he didn't sound like anyone, the voice was curiously anonymous.
"I - I don't know, Captain" responded what was presumably Wesley at the helm. "We're off the star-charts."
"Gamma quadrant, far corner of the Galaxy" said Q, who was still perfectly clear and, quite annoyingly, still sounded exactly like Q. "I've brought you here to introduce you to some old friends - some friends I like to call the Borg".
And with that, the teleporter hums and some shadowy figures appear on the bridge, indistinguishable from the crew.
"And so the game begins!" said Q, who then disappeared in a cheap flash of light.
"Wait!" yelled.... someone... "what game? What's going on?"
.
.
.
With another flash of light, Q returned. "You're so tiresome, Riker. Isn't it obvious?"
"Isn't what obvious?"
"I've introduced a threat into your midst. Quite simply, your job is to eliminate it.”
“The Borg are doing what they do – trying to assimilate you. Don’t worry, I’m trying to keep this game fair…”
“Yes, fair – this is a game for the Borg, too. They like to assimilate? Let’s see how they cope with assimilating themselves into your culture! Turnaround is fair play, after all. Now where was I? Oh yes, keeping the game fair – I’ve affected their ability to assimilate, so the assimilation process takes a good few days. If you can get rid of them nice and quick I’ll return you to your normal capabilities and you’ll be able to rid yourself of those pesky nanoprobes with that wonderful technology you have in spades. I’ll even help you get rid of them!”
“Go on….”
“Yes, it’s another of your delightful concepts called democracy. I’ve always been wonderfully amused how you seemed to believe the best people to make important decisions is everybody, rather than just those who actually knew anything about anything. But then, I have been accused of being a touch elitist in my time. Well, that’s what comes from being elite. Or omnipotent, for that matter. Oh, I’m digressing again…”
“Yes, each day you vote for one of your number to be eliminated, and I’ll eliminate them for you. Once all the threats are gone, I’ll let you go on your merry way. Toodle-pip!”
And with a flash, Q is gone again – and with another, you find yourself in your quarters, and you hear the warm, familiar voice of the computer…
Softly blows o'er lullaby bay
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting
Waiting to sail your worries away”