Star Trek: Voyager: Endgame

the deals had been dealt. Why was he stalling?
    “Somewhere safe,” he grumbled.
    Oh, brother. Pseudo-superiority. Did he have to be so bracingly predictable?
    Janeway decided to play the uninspired game for a minute or two. “I went to a great deal of trouble to get you your seat on the High Council. Now give me what you promised.”
    Korath moved to a monitor embedded in the fake rock of the cavern wall and activated it. A rotating graphic of Janeway's personal shuttle, the one in orbit right over their heads, popped on. A little grainy, but accurate enough. At the side of the screen, Klingon text scrolled ceaselessly.
    “I've scanned your shuttle. You've made some interesting modifications.”
    He hit a button, and the graphics zoomed in on a single component.
    “Your shield generator is of particular interest,” he concluded.
    Janeway watched the monitor with a little more pride than she had practiced. “It's not for sale.”
    Korath smiled craggily. “Then what you want isn't available either.”
    “We had an agreement.”
    The old Klingon made a gesture to the two guards and without much theatricality said, “Show the admiral out.”
    She strode back into Korath's throne room and announced, “I've reconsidered your offer.”
    “I thought you might,” he said.
    “I'll give you the shield emitter,” she continued, as if he'd said nothing at all, “but not until I've inspected the device you're offering. To make sure it's genuine.”
    Korath's dark face flushed purple. “You question my honor?”
    “No,” she said. “If you had any honor, you wouldn't have changed the terms of our agreement. Show it to me or I'm leaving.”
    Her ultimatum was so matter-of-fact that Korath seemed to believe her. She half believed it herself.
    Janeway held her arms and legs very still. Klingons might take any twitch as a signal that they had some advantage, psychological or otherwise, or perhaps even judge any movement as tension. They might interpret unease in any of a dozen ways that would work against her. She fixed her eyes on Korath and focused her whole physical self to a single end. The two guards might as well have been stone carvings, for all the attention she offered them.
    A large section of the rock wall shimmered and frizzled out of existence—a holographic projection. When the picture of rock went away, the chasm revealed a storage locker. Inside the locker was a table, and on that table was a temporal deflector.
    Until now, she had held in store an idea that the temporal deflection science was a myth running around between the raggedy Empire and the Federation and a few other concerns about a device that could do what this one supposedly could do. Miral had said it worked, but young idealistic ensigns could be deluded. They wanted so much to believe . . .
    If it could do what the rumors said, why was its price as low as a seat on the Klingon Council?
    Then, there was no accounting for taste—or ceilings on ambition. Some people just wanted to get the best of their mothers-in-law. Korath wanted to be able to look down on all the other Klingons from the only pinnacle that meant anything to him.
    The deflector's casing was more aerodynamic than Janeway had imagined, built with more artistry than necessary. The streamlined device would fit well on her shuttle. She could already see the way to fit it on and connect it to a power source.
    She pulled her tricorder around from where it had rested on its strap under her arm and activated it. Casual, casual.
    With strict inner control she said nothing, but went about analyzing the device like a good science officer indulging a bit of curiosity. Everybody deserved a little confirmation now and then. Korath didn't stop her. If she had explained, he might have grown suspicious. So far she wasn't doing anything unexpected, other than possibly moving too close to the device.
    Six steps . . . five . . . she had to be within range, no margin of error.
    Why was he dumb enough to let her get so close? Ah, the small favors of life and luck.
    Korath moved closer too, watching her every move, listening to the twitter of the tricorder, measuring just how much information was enough. He had his Cardassian disruptor in his hand. Janeway hadn't missed that little detail.
    She had no weapon of her own. The fortress's shields would never have let her beam through with a sidearm. All she had was the tricorder and its merry scan.
    Which was good enough for now. She looked up