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2. Future Worf And The Margarita Of The South P... LinkClad in a high-collared, linen-spun tactical tunic, Worf stands on the white sands of a remote island in the South Pacific. He is not here for conquest, but for the , a legendary concoction rumored to have been perfected by a renegade bartender who fled the Federation’s post-scarcity boredom for the lawless beauty of the "Old Earth" tropics. He approaches a small shack built from driftwood and salvaged shuttlecraft panels. Behind the bar stands an old man with a salt-and-pepper beard. 2. Future Worf and the Margarita of the South P... The bartender doesn't flinch. He reaches for a bottle of silver liquid and a fresh, bright lime. "Salt or no salt, big guy?" Clad in a high-collared, linen-spun tactical tunic, Worf "Computer," Worf rumbles, his voice like grinding tectonic plates. "Locate the nearest source of... agave ." Clad in a high-collared |
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