Day 10 - Onboard the Cardassian Patrol Ship - 0.8 parsecs away from Cardassia Prime
Spock wakes to a mixture of loud sounds: doors slamming, klaxons blaring, boots clanging on the floor. Kirk is pressing one ear against the door, and staring at him with wide eyes.
"Are you sure they don't execute prisoners at random?" Kirk asks. "Or have bloody coups while having innocent prisoners on board? 'cos I'm pretty sure something big's going down out there."
Spock opens his mouth, inhales, then closes it again.
"Well fuck," Kirk concludes. "You don't happen to know how to refit a universal translator for a phaser, do you?"
"Not within the realm of physics, no," Spock says. Then, "A minor explosion, perhaps."
Kirk fumbles with his UT and throws it against Spock's already remodelled one. "Make that a big ass explosion," he says hurriedly, rifling through his discarded shirt. "I've still got that power crystal somewhere — "
"I do not think that is necessary," Spock says, just as the doors to their cell burst open.
"TRESPASSERS!" Bretav's voice booms from the doorway. "Follow me."
Kirk straightens slowly from the floor. "Where are you taking us?" he demands.
"To the cargo bay," Bretav replies. "From there, who cares?"
Kirk gives his universal translator a desperate shake and glances at Spock with slightly manic eyes. "You sure this thing still works? He said 'cargo bay', right, not 'air lock'?"
"We have rights to a public defender," Spock tells Bretav, who merely cackles.
"No public defender for you now, Federation journalists," he says. "There's been a change of plans."
"Definitely going to hack that database," Kirk mumbles.
"The Cardassian Justice Code clearly states that those incriminated have the right to the updates in judicial proceedings," Spock recites.
"Meaning if there's air locks involved we need to know beforehand," Kirk supplies helpfully. "So we can have a comm call or something."
To Kirk's evident surprise, Bretav pulls out two comm units and throws it at them. "There," he sneers.
"Okay," Kirk says slowly, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Now I'm really worried. Spock?" he says, turning to the side.
Spock notices that Kirk pockets the comm unit quickly and appears to have sent a message in the three seconds it took him to do so.
"The Cardassian — " Spock tries again, and Bretav makes an impatient noise.
"Concerns you no more!" Bretav says, seemingly a non sequitur. "You will be — "
Suddenly, a cheerful tune blares from the ship-wide speaker system, and all three of them look up.
"Shake your booty, shake your money, come make money — "
"What the actual fuck," Kirk says. "Is that the theme tune from Risa's biggest gambling chain, The Moneyshaker?"
In response, Bretav palms open a comm link and roars, "Tell that big-eared two brains to shut that noise!"
The music doesn't stop — Bretav turns green in the face.
"Yeah," Kirk says, shrugging. "This tune really doesn't go with your cold Macho style. Just sayin'."
Bretav makes a frustrated growl and Spock sidesteps subtly to break his line of vision with Kirk. In response, Kirk nudges him lightly in the shoulder. When Spock turns, Kirk simply grins at him, unabashed.
"Nalk's Luxurious Passenger SpaceLine," a cheery male voice rings from the comm as the music fades in the background. "All welcome aboard at any time!"
"SHUT HIS FACE," Bretav roars.
The doors to the cargo bay slide open and a short humanoid with large, flappable ears and a prominently enlarged skull comes into view. He beams at them.
"My passengers!" the humanoid cries, rushing forward. "Welcome to Nalk's premium service. Very glad to have you onboard."
"Watch it, Ferengi," Bretav growls. "This is still a Cardassian ship, and I can have you thrown out the airlock."
"What he said," Kirk says quickly, darting his eyes between Nalk and Bretav.
Nalk simply laughs. "Oh, funny, Lieutenant Bretav, you. Throw me out the airlock? To where? My newly bought little belt of space?"
Bretav bares this teeth and growls.
"I don't know why the Union ever does business with Ferengis," he spits out. "But get out of my sight before I decide to reacquire your little trade route again."
"Ah ah ah," Nalk wags a finger, "Rule of acquisition number sixteen: a deal is a deal. I paid a pretty sum of latinums for this belt of space, and I'm going to keep it."
"Fine!" Bretav yells. He turns around and shoves Kirk unceremoniously in the shoulder, who glares at him. "Just get out of my way. And take the trespassers and make sure they get tried!"
Nalk eyes them curiously. "Trespassers?" He says. "We Ferengis don't embrace rude concepts such as trespassing. Everyone who passes through Ferengi space is a valued customer!"
"Aaaaand we are going with this guy," Kirk says quickly, sidling over to Nalk. "Hi. Valued Customer here," he says, grinning and waggling his eyebrows.
Spock turns his eyes towards the ceiling.
"And a warm welcome onboard Nalk's Luxury Spaceline!" Nalk announces, clapping his hands together and ushering them towards the turbolift door. "For the low low price of two latinum bars, we will beam you aboard in no time!"
Kirk stops in his tracks abruptly. "Latinum bars?" He says, turning to Bretav, who is still visibly fuming at the loss of his authority. "You gonna let this guy charge us to use your transporter facilities?"
"I'LL CHARGE YOU FOR THREE YOU SHAMELESS FEDERATION TRESPASSER," Bretav explodes.
Kirk snaps his mouth shut and glances desperately at Spock.
"We are not familiar with latinum as a currency," Spock informs them. "However, our ship — "
"What? No," Kirk interjects quickly, "No. Harromad'll have my skin if we sell his ship."
"The Orion piece of garbage?" Bretav sneers. "We already took it apart for scraps. Barely found anything useful, let alone valuable."
"What," Kirk says flatly.
Spock moves instinctively to break the line of vision between Kirk and Bretav again — this time, Kirk punches him in the shoulder. Spock gives him a look, and Kirk gazes accusingly back, and after a thirty-second staring contest, the matter is settled.
"We are currently short on funds," Spock informs Nalk finally.
Nalk makes a sympathetic noise as he clucks his tongues. "Pity. No latinum? No problem. You can still catch a shuttle to our Luxurious SpaceLine."
He gestures expansively towards the other side of the cargo bay, where an old, battered shuttlecraft sat in the corner.
"I'm not sure I like this," Kirk mutters. "Is there no other options?"
"There's always my air lock," Bretav offers flatly.
"And we are taking the shuttlecraft," Kirk says swiftly, turning on his heels.
The inside of the shuttlecraft is surprisingly well-maintained: full automatic controls, high definition optic screens line every inch of the wall, holotheatre sound systems. Kirk whistles upon entering the vessel, and settles into the leather sofa with aplomb.
"I like this!" Kirk beams, patting the seat next to him. "I guess the Ferengi don't know that the journey can be all the fun, huh!"
"That remains to be seen," Spock says. "As we do not seem to have access to the ship controls."
"Ever the control freak," Kirk says amiably. "Come on, just relax, will you? Let's see if they've got any good holovid on here."
They sit down, and, upon sensing their settled weight, the shuttlecraft begins to move. The optic walls light up with the revolving logo "NALK'S LUXURIOUS SPACELINE", and blinks.
"Sweet," Kirk says.
"Nalk's Luxurious SpaceLine," the wall starts to play. "Welcome aboard our limited edition shuttlecraft. For today's journey, we are going to show you a carefully selection of the best and the rarest the SpaceLine has to offer."
Two very green, and very naked women appear on the screen.
"I see," Spock says.
Kirk bursts out laughing. "I like this ship!" he declares, and proceeds to sprawl out on the sofa, giving no regard to Spock's increasing need for personal space.
The image on the screen changes to that of a roulette wheel. "Our most famous and ingenius game of the entire galaxy — "
"Hey! That's Dabo," Kirk says, straightening up. "So that's where Harromad gets the game from!"
"— Which you can experience with true authenticity onboard our Luxurious SpaceLine — "
Another naked female of indeterminable race perches over the wheel.
"So that's how the game's supposed to be played," Kirk says with evident interest.
"I am reevaluating our choices of opting for this ship," Spock informs him.
"Okay fine, fine," Kirk says good-naturedly, and taps the optic screen several times. "Come on. Menu, menu. There's gotta be a cultural sensitivity option some where…"
A menu does appear, with three options:
- Three slips of Latinum to skip to our next offering
- Three strips of Latinum to peruse our full offering at your leisure
- THREE LATINUM BARS TO PURCHASE OUR CURRENT OFFERING ! HOT ! RECOMMENDED !
Kirk stares at the menu for some time, then closes his mouth.
"Now I'm reevaluating the choice of taking this ship," he says. "What the — are they serious?"
"It would appear that the Ferengi are an entrepreneurial race," Spock comments.
Kirk laughs for a total of two seconds then sobers up. "You know that means for once you are gonna have to sit through the fun like everyone else," he says in a gravel voice.
"Fun has variable meanings," Spock says flatly.
"Just, let me know if you, y'know, need a minute. Or ten." Kirk winks at him, all suave and charm again and completely immune to Spock's wall of non-emotion. "I'll look the other way. Y'know, if you want me to."
"Please cease speaking," Spock says, pained.
"Right, right," Kirk agrees amiably, and spends the next three minutes laughing silently at the ceiling.
Three hours later, however, Kirk is no longer laughing.
"Okay, never thought I'd say this, but there is too much of a good thing here," Kirk says, appearing agitated as he burrows deeper into the sofa. "This is — I would say this is what turns me gay if it weren't so wrong and who does the hetero-normality shit anyway — but this — "
"I agree," Spock says while he studies the floor — the only piece of furniture covering that is not covered by the optic screen in this room — intently.
Kirk rubs two hands over his face and groans. "I thought it was bad when they started bringing out the snakes… no this is bad. THIS is bad. Ohmygod make them stop, Spock, make them stop."
"I am a tree," Spock murmurs.
"Oh fuck you, seriously?" Kirk yells incredulous, punching him on the shoulder. "Seriously? You gonna meditate in front of porn!?"
"I am water," Spock replies, unmoved.
Kirk lets out a frustrated noise and runs a hand through his hair. "This isn't even good porn anymore! Ohmygod no not the cup! Not the cup! Fuuuuuuuuck — "
A precious brief, a few seconds too brief pause, before Kirk speaks again.
"This squelching sound is making me sick," he says feebly.
Spock breathes deeply for a few times, then exhales. "I believe," he says slowly over the surround sound, "that the program is coded to increase in its… variance in taste, when a selection for purchase was not made on previous showings."
Kirk makes a sound not dissimilar to an old Sehlat wounded in battle. "How long until we reach the fucking SpaceLine ship, Spock?"
Spock studies the chart closely, then straightens.
"It appears we are already within range," he says. "We are being towed by the SpaceLine itself."
With a swipe, a flashing red option in capital letters appear around them:
"COME ABOARD TO THE REAL FUN IMMEDIATELY! SALE PRICE: ONLY TWO LATINUM BARS!"
After it, a small count down:
"Time until boarding otherwise: six hours, forty-five minutes, three seconds"
A minute of worrying pause, then Kirk turns slowly towards him, eyes wide and a pale in the screen's reflection. "I'm hacking the fucking database," he enunciates.
Spock inclines his head. "Which one?"
"All of them!" Kirk says viciously, bouncing off the sofa in a nervous ball of energy. "This one! I'm — yes, this one!"
"You are not making sense," Spock repeats for what he feels is surely the hundredth time in past few weeks.
"Do they take etransactions? Do they — ha! Of course they do!" Kirk rubs his hands together. "Just need to make them think there's money where it's due, that's all — "
Spock cannot help but feel a tendril of alarm as Kirk fervently taps the "COME ABOARD NOW" option. "Captain, this is not logical."
The protagonist featured in the most recent 'offering' on the screen is making increasingly insistent noises, which Spock does not think help his case.
"Logical?" Kirk says in a voice almost unrecognisable from his usual self, as he turns and stares at Spock with wild eyes, face flushed. "Logical? Spock! We are being shut in a room, in the middle of contended space, being forced to watch porn! There is no logic in this fucking universe!"
Another minute of deep, contemplative pause, then Spock concedes his point.
"I will assist you in accessing the mainframe," he says.
"Attaboy!" Kirk beams, as the naked genderfluent alien on the optic screen makes a keen noise of pleasure. "Let's make those greedy suckers think we are billionaires."
