Janeway nodded. “Good choice for what’s basically a round structure.
Our docking spire must be connected to the base of this pyra… tetrahedron,” she corrected herself. “How disorienting.”
Her comment was made lightly, so Tuvok determined it was unnecessary to respond. Surveying Lobby 58, he noted two other lift depots that were of much larger dimensions. The activity of orange-clad support personnel, moving bulky antigrav pallets, indicated those lifts were used to off-load cargo.
The lower portions of the slanting walls were pierced by numerous windows and doors, apparently leading to businesses that supplied whatever one might need when visiting a space station. Higher up, the walls were dotted with floating advertising buoys and communications boards with rows of brightly lit and moving symbols. Humanoids and aliens wandered among the businesses, and lounged on the two terraces of what appeared to be an entertainment center suspended in one corner—the miniature tetrahedron was upside down, its downward point mirroring the echoing space above.
“Rather tame,” Janeway commented. “Almost sanitized, I’d say.”
Tuvok attempted to scan the area with his tricorder. “I am reading heavy subspace interference, due to differential gravity bases. My tricorder is unable to penetrate beyond this immediate location.”
Janeway approached a centrally located post approximately five meters from the lift depot. When Tuvok examined one of the screens mounted on the side, he quickly determined that it displayed a general menu of options.
“We have to enter our processing code,” Janeway pointed out.
Tuvok keyed in the sequence the docking official had assigned to Voyager. He ignored the three-dimensional tetrahedron that tumbled disquietingly in one corner of the screen, each side flashing vibrant colors, as he keyed through the menus. Although he was unable to directly access an agent of House Min-Tutopa, his request was immediately answered by the appearance of a three-dimensional map of the Hub. The interlocking tetrahedrons that comprised the interior of the asteroid shell swung into focus as the map rotated on the screen.
“It looks like a crazy quilt my great-aunt Hedra had on the bed in the spare room,” Janeway said, attempting to gain control of the map rotation using the touch sensors. Their current location was indicated, followed by the appearance of a dotted line, cutting through the map in odd angles.
“I believe this is the path we are instructed to take,” Tuvok said.
“Yes, but what is that symbol at the originating point?”
She glanced around, as Tuvok indicated the corner to their right.
“I believe it is some form of expressway.”
“Oh, right. But what do these symbols mean?” Janeway was shaking her head as they finally determined the station transfers, while Tuvok took the opportunity to record the map with his tricorder.
“It doesn’t matter how many degrees in applied physics or quantum engineering you have,” the captain sighed. “Trying to find your way around an alien transportation system is still the hardest thing to do in the universe.”
“Perhaps you should reconsider the direct approach, Captain,” Tuvok cautioned, as per his duty as security chief. “Space stations are typically dangerous places.”
“Never say die,” the captain responded enigmatically.
Tuvok debated several responses, attempting to determine which would be the most appropriate, as they went through the pointed arch into the expressway. A few other people were standing on the platform waiting for a car, including several red-clad Cartel enforcers.
Tuvok kept a vigilant eye on everyone. One of his early assignments was on Deep Space Four, as part of the security team.
It had given him the valuable experience of applying his tactical abilities on the individual level, combating criminals who engaged in petty theft, brawling, assault, and occasionally even murder. It was an assignment that Tuvok preferred not to repeat.
Yet during those two years, he had been able to cohabitate with his wife, who had taken a sabbatical in order to be with him.
They had been young, then, beginning their family.
A rush of air announced the arrival of an expressway car. Almost chagrined by the slip in his Vulcan control, Tuvok protected Janeway from the jostling that accompanied their entry into the transport. He ignored his distaste at being confined in close quarters with a crowd of humanoids, bringing his senses to full alert. He did not intend to disappoint the captain again.
Tuvok was cognizant of the fact that the lights in the office were too bright for the captain. Janeway was squinting even as the clerk—who had kept them waiting for several hours—performed a quick introduction to Agent Andross. A large hologram filled the wall behind the agent, in the most opulent display he’d seen thus far of the sunburst symbol associated with House Min-Tutopa.
The sun moved as if with the coming of dawn, complete with complex atmospheric formations that changed as the star passed through a deep blue-green sky to finally set in a burst of diffracted light.
Agent Andross rose with a practiced smile that managed to greet them without any noticeable warmth. Tuvok was prepared to speculate that Agent Andross had been counting on them to give up and go away. He also noted that the agent was markedly shorter than most of the other Tutopans they had encountered. The presence of a raised platform behind the desk indicated that physical conformity was indeed a desirable attribute in this society, yet here was an individual who had achieved high rank in spite of his difference.
Tuvok committed this data to memory as Andross gestured for them to take seats. “What can I do for you today, Captain Janeway?”
“I would like my computer processor returned,” she told him bluntly, placing her hands on her thighs. “The freighter Kapon, while in your employ, removed it from my ship.”
The agent’s delicate, flattened features remained motionless as he focused on the smoked-glass desktop. The surface reflected the strong lights, but his behavior clearly indicated that there were access nodes and readouts beneath the smooth top. Tuvok knew there was also a ninety-two-percent probability that scanners were focused on himself and the captain.
The Agent’s eyes lifted. “According to your processing information, your ship is a derelict.”
“It wasn’t derelict until the Kapon stole our processor.”
Andross smiled at that, a mere stretching of his lips. “The Kapon sensor logs record that your ship was drifting off the asteroid ring in the secondary system when they boarded. They performed a routine salvage of equipment.”
“They requested that we take our engines off-line, so they could shuttle over,” Janeway countered. “Do the Kapon logs show that?
They offered us information on wormhole locations in exchange for star charts, but instead they knocked out my crew and removed our processor.”
“I’m sure you must be mistaken,” Andross said mildly, clasping his hands together on the desk. “Who ever heard of taking hardware and leaving the database behind? Yet according to this file, your memory core remains intact.”
The captain’s control was admirable. Tuvok had spent the last several hours productively analyzing the data on the neural toxin, determining the cause of its rapid dispersal rate.
Janeway had had no such activity to occupy her mind, yet her calm demeanor didn’t falter. “We were informed that the freighter Kapon delivered their cargo to you. We would like that cargo returned to us.”
“Salvage was conducted within legal parameters,” Andross said, beginning to stand up. “However, if there is anything else I can help you with…”
“Certainly, there is,” Tuvok spoke up for the first time. He had calculated the risks of more forceful persuasion, and found them to be acceptable. “We request the name of your superior.”
Andross had the grace to look startled. “I am an official representative of House Min-Tutopa—” “Yes, we understand that,” Janeway interrupted, following his lead. “But we’d like to speak to your superior.”
“I have no superior on the Hub. The Board is in the Seat of House Min-Tutopa.”
“Where is that?”
“Min-Tutopa is the third planet from the sun.” Andross made a gesture as if flicking an imaginary particle off the top of his desk. “Under present conditions, it is impossible for you to speak to the Board at this time.”
Janeway turned to Tuvok. “At the information booth, I believe you mentioned there were other agents listed as official representatives of this House.”
“That is correct, Captain.”
She started to rise. “Good, I’m sure one of them will be able to help us.”
“Agreed.” Tuvok checked Andross’s reaction as he joined the captain.
“I suggest we do so immediately.”
Andross reached out a hand to stop them, moving markedly faster than he had under his earlier deportment. “This matter wouldn’t be in their realm of responsibility.”
“You aren’t acting very responsible,” Janeway pointed out, turning away.
Andross almost sounded hurt. “I am uniquely suited to my position.
All Tutopans are placed in their careers according to stringent psychological and aptitude testing.”
Janeway told Tuvok, “Let’s go find another one of these handpicked agents.”
“You don’t understand—the Kapon is under my jurisdiction.” He quickly added, “If you’d like to take your seats again, I shall see what I can do for you.”
Janeway feigned reluctance as she sat down.
“Now, let me see,” Andross said briskly. “What sort of computer were you interested in?”
“It’s a processor,” Janeway corrected. “The unit which selects programs from the memory and interprets them so as to direct the movement of data through the system, transforming input into operational instructions. It incorporates five FTL nanoprocessing units, controlled by modules of optical transtator clusters.”
“Hmmm…” Andross murmured, his eyes moving imperceptibly from side to side as he accessed information through his desk. “I can give you a new FTL processor by the end of this quarter, at a total installation cost of 6.300. What is your current credit balance?”
“I don’t intend to purchase new hardware.” Janeway leaned forward as if to make sure she was understood. “If that’s the sort of help you’re going to provide, we aren’t interested.”
“I see.” Andross tapped his finger thoughtfully against the edge.
“Since you’ve been caused some distress by the salvage procedure, I’ll reduce our price to 5.300 and not a ducet less.
You can’t beat that for brand-new hardware.”
In the silence, Tuvok calculated the time expenditure thus far, and concluded the logical course of action was to persist even in the face of such irrationality. The alternative was to begin the entire procedure over again with another agent.
The captain was apparently aware of this fact, and attempted another line of inquiry. “You obviously received our processor from the Kapon.
Can you tell us where is it now?”
“As with any salvaged goods, debris is sent to rendering for scans to determine its viability.”
“Could you trace our processor to its current location?”
“I could try…” Andross said hesitantly. “But you’d be better off accepting my offer.”
Janeway looked him right in the eye. “Agent Andross, I suggest you locate our computer processor immediately, or we will be forced to bring this to the attention of your superiors.”
“Of course.” His expression remained affably nondescript. “I’ll conduct an inquiry into this matter right away.”
“I would appreciate an answer from you within the hour.” Janeway rose again, this time making it clear it was final. “If we don’t hear from you, I’ll take my request elsewhere.”
“Certainly,” Andross said pleasantly. “And if I may, allow me to have my clerk summon a private transport to return you to your ship. I must say, you both look quite weary.”
Janeway appreciated the luxury of returning to the ship in an automated car instead of fighting the crush in the expressway.
But she knew it was to Andross’s advantage that they didn’t stop at another agent’s office on the way back. Andross reminded her of used-starship salesmen she’d encountered before—far too self-interested to be trusted. She didn’t even risk discussing the interview with Tuvok in the car; it was possible that Andross was recording their activity in order to glean an advantage in their negotiations.
So she enjoyed the ride for what it was worth, dialing up a vegetable beverage for Tuvok from the dispenser, and choosing a protein mixture for herself. She needed the energy after combating all these inanities.
When they reached Lobby 58, a group of Yawkins were waiting in the lift depot to return to their ship. Yawkins were ungainly, green-tinged humanoids, and these individuals were noticeably darker than usual.
The noxious fumes emitted from their neck gills made Janeway retreat from the depot.
Tuvok followed her. “Is something wrong, Captain?”
She gestured a denial. “Let’s wait for the next lift, shall we?”
“Certainly.”
Janeway appreciated his unquestioning assent. A screen on the side of the depot showed a real-time image of the three ships that were tethered to the docking spire. Voyager was just disappearing as the view rotated to show the pudgy freighter. At the bottom of the screen, the vessel was listed as the Oonon, with the processing code and House alignment following. The excessive coils of electrocable encircling the Oonon took on a new meaning in light of her frustrating encounter with Andross—it seemed as if the crew of the Oonon were afraid their ship would be stolen right out from under them, even while they were in dry dock. Janeway tried to suppress her feelings of persecution, knowing that was not a position of strength. She needed to deal from strength.
The Yawkin vessel swung into view, and she waited impatiently to see Voyager again. Her proprietary pride was rewarded when the sleek lines of her ship appeared, reminding her of the last time she’d seen Voyager docked at a space station. That was in the Alpha Quadrant, on Deep Space Nine. Tuvok hadn’t been with her then—it was before they had located him and the Maquis, before they were transported seventy thousand light-years away.