Tavya Nine is an independently-orbiting space station in the several-limbs-off-one-axis model.
Picture one of those geometric "wind spinners" that people on a lot of Tapani Imperium water worlds like Pelagon and Procopia set dangling from lighting poles near their buildings instead of putting weathervanes on the roof where no one will look at it. It has a strong, rigid vertical axis with (usually colorful) horizontal bars of varying lengths stacked so that they are centered on the axis but sticking out in different directions. Usually these are aligned so that the terminal corner of one bar lines up with the edge of another bar, not parallel but no more than a few degrees off. As you look up or down the central axis, the full 360° rotational plane is represented in sequence, probably more than once. The full sculpture will twist in the passing breeze.
I guess a lot of Tapani water world locals don't care about the direction of the prevailing winds half so much as they care about wind speed. That is probably fair. I'm not a pilot in three dimensions or two, I am not going to question others' experience.
Tavya Nine is a gigantic wind spinner. Its vertical axis looks like the cylinder-style space stations found across the Galaxy, with parks and civic areas and the primary environmental cycling system and the two primary power plants.
Each "bar" is a semi-independent level of the station. Most levels hold a mix of residential and business neighborhoods, utilities, and some of the larger ones have docking bays and parking hangars.
(Don't ask me what the outside color scheme means. I don't think it does. I think it was Great Art during creation, and then Great Art all over again when major refurbishments were done, but not the same artist or the same inspiration. Permanent residents of Tavya Nine pay attention to the aesthetic aspects of the outside hull so seldom that people in, say, Rayvale West are going to be awfully confused if a visitor points out that the hull for that level is Misty Rose in color. At most, Rayvale residents might be somewhat aware that the neon lights shining through the big port windows of Club Borealis -- a dance club in the next neighborhood up, Danut Row -- look particularly garish on the Peru hull of that level.)
Flexible turbolift shafts connect most levels to the level immediately above them, about two-thirds of the way from the central axis. These are not really meant for daily use; they are meant for emergency evacuation. But since they are there anyway, people who believe more in "guidelines" than "rules" do sometimes override the alarms and use them outside of crisis moments. It's an automatic fine of six hundred creds per individual per incident if they get caught.
So don't get caught.
I am not bailing anybody out for flareups of Carpal Dumbass Syndrome.
- database entry updated Natunda