// EVENT: STATION-WARMING PARTY

[aqdidit]

It's like a long, long blink, and then, pop - the uncomfortable feeling of squeezing the very last stubborn little bit of toothpaste out of the tube, but you're the toothpaste.

And then you're sitting in a chair in a strange bar, with several people you've never seen before in your life. The light is low, the sort of comfortable level reserved for comradely conversations around some nachos and beers. The architecture of the bar itself looks industrial - someone might be forgiven for thinking it's located in a reclaimed warehouse or something of the like.

It's not. (Not unless you want to call a repurposed mining space station a warehouse.)

There's food on the tables, and drinks - much of it looks like staple bar food (is that deep-fried mac and cheese???), but some of it is a little unfamiliar (is that a bowl of worms? are they moving???????????).

After you have a moment to look around in sheer bewilderment, a man in what seems to be a uniform stands on the dais in front of a stained-glass mural and raises a glass. "A toast. To the new crew of Deep Space Nine. By which I mean, of course, all of you!" He chuckles. "You hardly look like a crew, though. Why, you're all out of uniform!" He snaps, and you suddenly find yourself wearing a uniform like his. "Where are my manners. You don't even have your marching orders." A handheld tablet appears on the table in front of you, between a glass of something blue and what's definitely a basket of loaded potato skins. And it's definitely yours, because it has your name on it. "There! Now you all have your PADDs. Read them at your leisure."

He takes a sip of what's in his glass and makes a face. "Ugh! Kanar. Terrible stuff, don't know how the Cardassians drink it." There's a small flash of light, and it's replaced with something bright teal. "Much better. Now, the Romulans, they know how to make a spirit."

Then he sits down in the chair up on the dais and leans back so it's only on two legs, looking down his nose at everyone. "Now. I imagine that all of you have some questions for me. So to avoid any blah-blah boring repetition, I am Q, and this is Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine - your home for the foreseeable future. Don't ask me any boring questions like 'ohhh why am I here ohhh', you can find most of what you need to know on your PADD. You're here because the station needed a crew and I thought you'd be a good fit."¹ Q twirls his wrist and a pocketwatch appears in his hand. "Yes, I can dilly-dally long enough to answer some questions. At my discretion." He snaps it shut, an oddly final sound.

Once Q is done holding court, he grins. "Oh, you're going to have such fun, mes amis," he says, and vanishes in a flash of light, leaving everyone to mix and mingle. The bar is unattended if anyone is interested in trying some amateur mixology, and Q has thoughtfully taped up instructions on how to use the replicators.

THIS IS NOT MY SLEEP NUMBER
When the party is starting to wind down, information for your quarters flashes on your PADD - including the location in the Habitat Ring and how to get there. They're spartan and lacking creature comforts, but your original clothes are there, neatly folded on the bed, along with anything else you may have had with you upon arrival. The PADD periodically chimes with information that you need to know, like how to work the sonic shower, or that the station runs on the 26-hour Bajoran day. It's almost like the PADD knows what's going on...? Eh, it's about as creepily invasive as Alexa, anyway. And speaking of Alexa, the PADD also provides a crash course in how to interact with the station's computer! Which is essentially plain-language audio querying. Ask Ms. Majel Barret Roddenberry the computer anything you like and she will help you.

A message appears from Q later on everyone's PADDs, unable to be replied to:

It'll take about a week before they finally figure out how to get transmissions through the chroniton field.

You've got that much time to get a handle on things.

:)

-Q

---

¹ This is a lie. He picked you just for shits and giggles.

Comments

[unfavorableinstigation]

Truly, that's more than Nita could have asked for. /sarcasm

Nita nods, not letting her expression change, much as she is relieved by that much confirmation.

"I'd hate to give you ideas beyond that, I'll tell you that much."

Which didn't mean she wouldn't put her foot in her mouth eventually...

Ah, Callahans.

"And - regarding our homes. Is it accurate to assume people know we're missing?"

[aqdidit]

"You know what they say, don't you? When you assume you make an ass out of you." ...that phrase ends with 'and me', but he's not gonna say it. "You'll be returned at the exact moment from which you were plucked. Easier to deal with causality that way."

[unfavorableinstigation]

Somehow, she knew that line was coming... waitaminute.

Nita nods, seeing as that really is the best she could ask for (or pointedly Not ask for) in this whole situation.

"Thrilled to hear it."

It's a load off, but she's not going to make a show of that in public. Even if this Q probably wouldn't care.

"We'll see you around later, then?"