Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Lust's Latinum Lost (and Found) by Paula M. Block & Terry J. Erdmann

Author:Paula M. Block & Terry J. Erdmann [Block, Paula M. & Erdmann, Terry J.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Video Game Adaptations, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Movie Tie-Ins, Movie, Star Trek, Science Fiction, TV, Adventure, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction, TV; Movie; Video Game Adaptations
Amazon: B00IWUST3A
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2014-09-01T23:00:00+00:00

9

“Didn’t I tell you to input the bay number on your padd!” growled Quark.

“I did input the bay number,” Shmenge protested. “I just didn’t input the level. But how hard is it to find a level? There can’t be more than a dozen.”

“There are thirty-two,” said T’lana, studying a location map near the entrance to the docking structure. “Assuming, of course, this is the correct structure.”

“Of course this is it,” the young Ferengi said brightly. “Look, there’s the tram station. I remember seeing it right in front of us when we left.”

“This spaceport is laid out like a big wheel, you idiot,” spouted Quark. “You can see the tram station right in front of you from all the docking structures—”

“Gentlemen,” T’lana interrupted, gesturing at a featureless black information monolith near the perimeter of the spaceport’s docking area.

Quark strode over to it. “No buttons, so it must be voice activated,” he guessed. He cleared his throat and addressed the slab. “We are looking for the location of our vessel.”

A flurry of bright lights appeared at the monolith’s center, twinkling like stars.

“Pretty,” Shmenge said, oblivious of Quark’s heated glare.

The stars flashed into a circular pattern that began spinning. And spinning.

“What’s it waiting for?” Quark asked at last. Shmenge shrugged.

T’lana exhaled deeply and shouldered past the two Ferengi. “WORM47,” she told the monolith. If she hadn’t been Vulcan, Quark would have sworn he detected a tad of impatience in her demeanor.

A portion of the stars coalesced into a glowing symbol matching the design on the docking structure next to the one they’d been searching; the rest of the stars morphed into the level and bay numbers.

“See? Bay five forty-five! I told you I had that right!” exclaimed Shmenge.

Quark resisted kicking him.

It wasn’t until they rounded the corner and faced the shuttle that Quark realized he had a bigger problem than a dim-witted apprentice. About two meters big—and extremely ugly.

This can’t be good, he thought. “To what do we owe this pleasure, Franti?”

“Mister Broht requests a meeting,” the Nausicaan said, his deep, threatening tone resonating as the trio drew near.

Quark nodded. “You know, I would just love to accommodate him, but I have a more pressing appointment. You see, I’m a Very. Busy. Man. Why don’t you tell Ardon to call the Ferengi Embassy? Shmenge will be happy to set something up for him. Sometime next year, perhaps?”

“That will not do,” rumbled Franti. “Mister Broht wishes to see you immediately.” He glanced past the two Ferengi, noting the female Vulcan who stood a few steps behind them. “T’lana. Yes, of course. He anticipated that. I believe it would be best if you accompanied me as well.”

“I am no longer employed by Mister Broht,” T’lana said. “I have no interest in meeting with him.”

“Your interest is of no interest to me,” Franti said sternly.

“He doesn’t want to see me, does he?” piped up Shmenge.

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