Star Trek - TNG - 63 - Maximum Warp, Book Two Read online

  "Hey, you want to earn passage, right?" Riker asked, flashing his smile again.

  "This is his ship, sir."

  "Quiet, Mr. Data."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Do you know where we can get some barantium?" Riker asked as Tobin lowered himself into his combination helm command chair.

  "I'm not sure," Tobin replied. "I know of a few places where ships are repaired. Non-military repair facilities. I assume you don't want to visit a military one."

  "No, we don't."

  Tobin nodded.

  "It would also have to be something out of the way--somewhere where requesting a lot of this material wouldn't be noticed," Riker told him.

  "How much do you need?"

  Riker looked up to Data and let him answer. "Half a kiloton."

  "That would be noticed everywhere," Tobin said somberly.

  All of them frowned.

  "But," the Romulan added more cheerfully, "some would overlook it, if properly bribed."

  "Where?" Riker grinned.

  "Lantig. A planetoid. Not too distant, but off most of the trade routes. There is a repair facility there. Sometimes the administrator will trade for supplies. It is not a well-kept facility or a very technological port, but

  nonetheless he will be suspicious that we are not in need of repair."

  Riker stood and patted Tobin on the shoulder. "Then, we'll have to be."

  "I do not under--" Tobin stood and followed Riker as he walked toward the door back to the main deck. "No, please--"

  "Sorry, Mr. Tobin," Riker said.

  "But, we just finished repairing the ship from the last time you broke it."

  Commander Riker turned back toward his crewmates. "Mr. Data... some simple sabotage, please. Not debilitating, but in obvious need of repair."

  "Aye, sir." Data picked up a tool kit he'd recently set down and followed Riker toward the engines.

  "But--" Tobin sputtered after him then turned to Deanna. "But..,"

  She shrugged. "What else can we do?"

  And as she left too, Tobin found himself alone on his small bridge.

  "But... I have nothing with which we can barter."

  Chapter Three

  "You only have the one transporter pad?" Riker quickly ducked his head in and out of the single transporter alcove. It was dingy and didn't look well maintained, and Riker probably had the same facial expression he had when eating at a restaurant with dirty glasses. "This is it?"

  "Yes," Tobin said, checking the power cells to the unit. "I never thought I would need more."

  Riker frowned and looked over Tobin's shoulder at the control panel. "It's a little old. What's the transfer rate?"

  "Seventeen point three seconds at ten thousand kilometers."

  Old and slow, Riker thought. "It'll have to do."

  Data stepped into the small transporter room through the only door. "Sir, perhaps I should go in your place."

  Patting him on the shoulder, Riker smiled. "Data, you're an excellent second officer, you play a mean

  hand of poker, and you have the nicest cat in all of Starfleet. But, while outwardly you could pass as an alien, all they'd need to do is scan you to see you're an android."

  Tobin spun around, eyes wide with awe. "He is?"

  "Yes, sir," Data replied matter-of factly

  Tentatively, Tobin reached out one hand and felt Data's arm. "I couldn't tell at all," he breathed. "Simply amazing. Who built you?"

  "We made him from a kit," Riker said before Data could reply in great depth. "Come on, we don't have time for this."

  Marching up the main corridor of Tobin's vessel, Riker gave Data some final orders. Tobin followed closely behind.

  "Now, if the repair technicians make any wide-scans, you'll be masking your bio and power signatures, right?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "How well were you able to hide Tobin's cloaking device?"

  "Somewhat It looks like a large power conduit now."

  Riker stopped and turned toward the android. "Won't that seem suspicious?"

  Data seemed to consider that a moment. "Less suspicious than before, sir."

  With a sigh, Riker continued up the hallway and Data followed.

  They joined Deanna on the hauler's bridge. While Riker was talking to Data, Tobin had retrieved some sort of small case.

  "Here, I've brought you the proper garb," he said.

  Smiling pleasantly, Deanna took the case. Deanna's smiles were infections and both Riker and Tobin found themselves reciprocating. Perhaps feeling left out, Data smiled as well. Data's smiles had improved greatly since he installed his emotion chip, but Riker still thought he looked a bit goofy.

  "A bit drab, isn't it?" Deanna said as she pulled the dark gray material from the bag.

  Tobin shrugged. "Indentured servants don't wear garish attire."

  Running his hand through what looked like a tunic and trousers, Riker asked, "This looks like mine."

  "It is," Tobin said.

  "Yes. Female indentured servants--"

  "Slaves," Deanna interrupted.

  Unwilling to have this debate again, Tobin half shrugged and half nodded. Deanna had spent some time posing as a Tal Shiar agent aboard a Romulan warbird, so she'd gotten a crash course in several Romulan cultural mores. As far as she was concerned, this was slavery, not servitude.

  "In any case," Tobin said, "Temale indentured servants wear these clothes."

  Examining the form-fitting robe that Tobin handed him, Riker scowled.

  "I meant no offense. But these are the accoutrements one of her status would wear." Tobin cast his head downward and looked as if he was trying to explain to Riker how he'd accidentally killed the family dog. "If you do not wish to attract undue attention ..."

  "I thought we were both slaves," Riker said.

  "Indentured servants," Tobin corrected. "And you must realize, the purpose of such laborers is not for their brute strength." He cleared his throat, looked away, then back, then to Deanna--but not her face-and then his gaze finally settled back on Riker.

  Riker pulled in a deep breath and pushed it out strongly. "You're sure you don't have anything we could trade for the barantium?"

  The Romulan shrugged and shook his head. "My vessel is all I have."

  "Fine. Let's get this over with then," Riker said. "Data, keep a transporter lock on us at all times."

  "This equipment does not have that feature, sir," Data said, showing Riker a screen on one of the small consoles. "But I will keep scanning for human and Betazoid life forms

  Nodding his grudging acceptance, Riker moved toward the doorway. "Today seems to be a 'take-whatyoucan-get' kind of day."

  Lantig Marketplace Romulan space Sector 37

  The sun beat down on them as they walked from the repair facility administrator's center to the market, but it wasn't a warming sun. The temperature was probably between eight and ten degrees Celsius and so as they trudged across the dusty square, the sun seemed to give more light than heat.

  It was a rural planet, scantily populated, too far off the beaten Romulan path to be of military value. That explained why the security force seemed mostly administrative. They probably arrested drunks, took bribes, and led lives of dull desperation. The city they'd beamed down to looked like every picture Riker had ever seen of old railroad towns on Earth--where when the work was done the village was abandoned and forgotten. Surely no one truly called this place home.

  "I urge you to be obedient and passive," Tobin whispered to them, despite not a soul being on the streets, let alone within earshot. "The petitioners in this market will not appreciate forceful servants."

  "Slaves," Deanna said somewhat indignantly.

  Riker smiled. She had her principles, always, and wasn't afraid to let them be known.

  "In the empire, most are slaves to the state," Tobin said.

  "Not the 'petitioners," I assume," she responded.

  "The petitioners are those who, well they don't own land--no o
ne really owns land in the empire--but they are allowed to lease it from the state at a percentage of what they may earn."

  "From farming?" Riker asked.

  Tobin shrugged and Riker realized it was a motion the Romulan made quite often. "Farming, energy production, manufacturing, what have you."

  "Okay," Riker began, "let's say we remain sold today. We wouldn't be working in those areas, right?"

  "No." Tobin paused as he tripped on a loose stone in the pavement and Riker caught him. He whispered a

  thank-you, and then continued. "Such things are highly automated, of course."

  From the corner of his eye, Riker saw someone in a window across the way watching them. So did Tobin, who hit Riker with the back of his hand as soon as he did. "Never touch me again. Never!" Tobin yelled.

  Surprised more at Tobin's sudden change in attitude than actually being struck, it took Riker half a second to flinch and affix an appropriately contrite expression on his face.

  "I will explain you don't speak the local language," Tobin said quietly. "Be sure not to react to anything people might say." They were both wearing inner-ear translators so they could follow what was happening. "And do not take offense when I hit you again."

  "Again?" Riker stopped and looked at him.

  Tobin had to stop, hit him again, and Riker reacted a bit faster this time with a flinch.

  "This is because I disabled your ship before, right?"

  "It is expected, to show your obedience," Tobin said. "Deanna will hit you as well."

  Riker smirked. "Oh, she will, will she?"

  "You are male," the Romulan said matter-of factly "The female servants have standing and authority."

  The Enterprise first officer sighed. "This day just keeps getting better."

  Shivering, Deanna nuzzled against Riker playfully. "You've never had a problem with females in authority before." "I've never been sold before." Riker hugged her with the arm that cradled her.

  "Silence now," Tobin said as he took Riker and Deanna inside and motioned for them to sit and wait for him. As they did, Riker couldn't help but imagine what it must be like for people to really come here and sign away their lives. No bars, no chains, no cages, but they made themselves slaves nevertheless. It was a dismal planet, and if an asteroid wiped it out of existence, he wondered how many would care. It was, in fact, a dead zone in itself.

  Tobin had walked up to someone behind a counter and was talking with them. He filled out some forms, signing with a retina scan, and after a little more discussion he motioned for Riker and Deanna to join him.

  When they had, Tobin nodded them through another door and, once inside the inner area, Riker saw that there were several such "servants," all clad similarly, and of a variety of races. No one was chained or looked to be there against their wills. Of course, most Romulans were not in chains, yet could not choose to leave Romulan space without permission.

  Riker had stopped and Tobin urged him along with a thwack to the back of his head. He forced himself not to frown, but he was sure Deanna felt his displeasure. If only because she giggled again in his mind.

  After only a few steps he stopped to glare at her and so she also slapped him, hard, against the back. He flinched and moved on, but didn't remove his glare.

  "Stop being disobedient," Tobin whispered to them.

  A large Romulan in elaborately colored robes approached. "What have we here?"

  "Two humanoids," Tobin said, smiling. "I believe they are from the Lornakan system."

  "Are you selling separately?" the fat Romulan asked.

  With a glint in his eye that to Riker seemed a bit too enthusiastic, Tobin smiled wider. "That would depend on how much you're paying."

  "I have no use for this one," the man said of Riker as he waved the Starfleet officer away.

  Tobin pushed Riker and Deanna back together. "But I have need to sell both." The buyer frowned.

  "But," Tobin quickly added, "if I get a good enough price for them respectively ..."

  Riker didn't like the idea of them being sold to different buyers. How would he protect her? Or, since she had more experience with Romulans, how would she protect him?

  Again they spoke to one another without words.

  /'// be fine, she told him.

  The fat man was sizing Deanna up, and Riker didn't like just how intently he was doing so.

  This guy already thinks he owns you, he thought to her.

  Keep your chivalry in check, I know what I'm doing.

  He knows what he's doing too, Riker thought. And that's the part that worries me.

  "I don't like this." Riker told Tobin as they watched Deanna walk off with her buyer.

  Her buyer, he thought, and smothered a sigh.

  "It was a good price for her," Tobin assured him as he guided them toward some other shoppers.

  "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

  The entire situation was ridiculous. They were selling

  themselves into Romulan slavery to gather enough money to buy what they needed to fulfill their mission and bribe the proper Romulan authorities. Surely there was another way.

  Okay, he had to admit, this hadn't bothered him until he saw Deanna's buyer.

  Tobin said, "I was not attempting to lift your spirits with my comment, except to point out that we are working toward your goal. This is not my mission. I am only trying to help. In truth, we received a good price for her. If we can get half that amount for you we'll have enough to purchase your barantium and bribe the administrator, if he isn't too greedy."

  Riker knew that Tobin was absolutely right. And Picard--and their mission--was depending on him. "Why did he hustle Deanna out of here so quickly?"

  "There are many regulations," Tobin said. "Many agreements they must sign. They have been taken to speak with a government bureaucrat about all of that."

  Riker shuffled forward in the moccasin-like loafers he'd been given. He hated them, and rest of the servant's garb, and longed for his uniform. "Great. More bureaucrats."

  "It is what we have most of in our system." Tobin motioned toward a group of Romulans who seemed to be looking their way. "Now we must find a buyer for you."

  Before them were a few people of various ages, talking with one another about something Riker couldn't quite hear. Only one stood out from the group. She was dressed in bright robes, where the others were not, and while seemingly rather old, she walked quickly and it

  seemed her eyes were very alive. She noticed Riker looking, and so she smiled. For some reason, that made him nervous.

  Others also looked, but after staring at Riker and Tobin quite a while, she finally walked toward them.

  "Hello."

  "Greetings, good lady." Tobin bowed. "Are you looking for a manservant?"

  "I am," she replied, and dipped her head back to him as a show of mutual respect. "What are this one's skills?"

  Tobin smiled. "Oh, wide and various, I assure you."

  The old woman looked deeply into Riker's eyes for a moment. He couldn't help but be pulled into her eyes a bit as well. He liked her. Damn it all, she might buy him.

  "Can you cook?" she asked.

  "Oh, he does not speak a familiar tongue, and I am without a Universal Translator," Tobin said, trying to draw her attention away from Riker's face. "My name is Potaar ... and you are?"

  She turned and answered him "Nien Ch'lin. A pleasure to meet you, Potaar."

  Tobin nodded and smiled politely.

  "I am looking for a skilled servant. If I cannot interview him myself I will need to know how to contact you should he not be satisfactory."

  "Of course." He offered his hand and she placed a padd into it. With a few quick dabs he entered what Riker assumed was a false address.

  "What price are you asking?" Nien asked.

  Tobin told her and she shook her head. "That is too high." She turned and began to walk away.

  "Wait!" Tobin called after her and took a step forward. "We could--discuss
it."

  Nien turned back with grace and composure. "I mean no disrespect to you, sir, but you are selling the services of a man whom I may not even interview. I have but your word for his skills, and the price you ask is too high."

  A strong woman, and noble in her way. She reminded Riker of one of his aunts. He remembered when he was young he'd always thought his aunt rather cold and stodgy--she'd had so many rules and was not easy on a boy without a mother, and, for all intents and purposes, without a father--but when Riker had returned from the Academy, she was the most proud of any of his mother's sisters. She'd told him she respected him so much, and always had. That was what he'd taken as stodgy--her formal respect for him.

  Nien had that... formality that was not from pomposity, but honor.

  Tobin had it as well. "Our price, as I indicated, is somewhat negotiable, of course."

  Looking down at her padd, Nien keyed in an amount. By the looks of her credits balance, it was most of what she had.

  "I can pay this." She showed Tobin the figure.

  Tobin saw the amount and typed a revision into Nien's padd. "I can accept no lower than this."

  Two honest people, making a fair bargain for the life of another. What a galaxy, Riker thought.

  After some thought Nien nodded. "Very well," she said, and Riker had been sold.

  Mien's estate was large and empty of people and yet it felt more like a home than a showpiece. She did not have great statuary or expensive works of art; rather, the walls were cluttered with pictures of her family. Riker assumed the furniture, older but well kept, was also family heirlooms. It looked antique: carved woods he'd never seen, thick varnish worn in the most used areas. Yes, her house even reminded Riker of his aunt's.

  As they sat in what he would have considered a living room, Nien made a motion that suggested he should speak. Of course: the Universal Translator would need to hear him before it could know into what language her Romulan dialect should be interpreted.

  He debated playing dumb, but doing so would only delay the inevitable and might actually be a problem if she decided to return him to Tobin, based on his refusal to speak.

  "Hello," he said finally, knowing that one word was probably enough. Most Universal Translators tried the most used languages first.