Title: Worst Nightmare
Author: Christine
Contact: [email protected]
Series: DS9
Part: 1/1
Rating: [R]
Codes: G/B, Crew
Archive: My website only. All others please ask first.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything Trek. I own everything and everyone I made up. {g} Am I making money from this? What the hell are you smoking?!
Feedback: Please do.
Author's Note: I was either high on something or drunk when I wrote this. And to make matters worse, there's a sequel to this.
Summary: The station's worst nightmare comes true.
Quark was busy refilling his customers glasses, when he glanced up and saw Odo walking towards him. Cursing to himself, he put the bottle down, "Aw, Constable! What brings you here today? Dabo girls? Holosuites? Or just being your usual pain in the ass self?"
Odo growled, "I wouldn't talk, rodent boy."
"Hey! I resent that you walking puddle," Quark said throwing a wet rag at Odo.
Before Odo could throttle the little shit, there was a loud whoosh coming from the promenade. The entire bar turned towards the sound. A spirally hole had opened up onto the promenade. Bystanders cautiously walked toward the gaping hole.
Momentarily stunned, Quark leaned over the bar, "What the hell is that?" he muttered to himself.
Thinking Quark had asked for his opinion, "It looks like some type of vortex," Odo said throwing his two cents in.
"No shit," Quark replied sarcastically.
Odo was about to lean over the counter so he could smack Quark upside his head, when suddenly he heard someone yell, "Oh. My. God."
Deciding he should do something constructive, Odo marched over to where the sounds where coming from. As he was walking out of the bar, he heard various people shouting.
"Holy shit!"
"Dear Prophets no!"
"Don't just stand there! Someone go get the damn phaser rifles!"
"The hell with this!"
"Duck and cover!"
"I didn't sign up for this shit!"
Odo continued his walking. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracts. The usually tough shapeshifter nearly lost his form when he saw what had come out of the vortex. "Oh, fuck!" He muttered to himself. Signaling no one in particular, "Run!"
Not needing further encouragement, every single person who was hanging around the promenade took off. Some people ducked into their shops, shoving furniture up against their doors. A pregnant Bajoran's water broke. Two Klingons fell to the ground, dead from heart failure. A young Betazoid male pissed in his pants before sprinting away at high speed.
~*~*~*~*~
Sitting at his sewing table, hemming up a dress, Garak sighed, I really hate doing this shitty job. Having stuck himself twice with the cursed needle.
Part 2