Special Order

Posted on 17 Sep 2023 @ 2:18pm by Chief Petty Officer Ibis Xeri & Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Edited on on 06 Feb 2024 @ 10:16pm

Mission: M4 - Falling Out
Location: Timeless Treasures
Timeline: M4 D2 Early AM
3660 words - 7.3 OF Standard Post Measure

It was a strange, fitful kind of sleep. All night Ibis and Wallace had tossed and turned, unable to find any comfortable situation. She felt she must have slept a little, because she had dreamed. Her eyes were opened staring at one wall. She felt certain that Wallace was just as restless, staring at the opposite one.

Eventually, Ibis put her feet to the floor and found her way to the little desk in the room on the other side of the half height book case, which was sparsely populated with decorative items.

She tried to access the terminal, but she quickly discovered that the LCars system was some new version she had never used. the menus were in strange places.

"Computer," she whispered. It twittered equally as softly, as if prompted to a volume to match her own. "Please... reskin the operating system to private LCars access graphical interface from 2387."

The computer reverted the display to the older access, although it was clear a number of access options had to be grayed out to accommodate. Ibis sighed, relieved as she was able to find the communications options. She entered her ID, but the system wouldn't accept it. She supposed it must have expired, since it had gone unused. She selected the guest ID and by rote memory entered the call address for her parents on earth. Ibis didn't even have time to be apprehensive about making the call before she'd so much as fixed her hair. The system immediately returned that the call could not be put through. concerned, Ibis pressed retry, but the same 'call cannot be accepted' message came up.Some presence of mind led her to open the status feedback and she read that this ID was suspended temporarily. Query not at this location." Ibis tried to remember her father's work ID, but found she couldn't by heart. She went through the lookup and found him easily enough. But now she'd had the chance to think, and she decided that she would rather try again later. There was a breakfast scheduled with the Admiral. She would try to place this call again after that.

Ibis shut down the desk and sat back, watching Porter as he slept from her vantage over the bookcase on the slight riser in the room. He'd turned onto his back, his arm on her pillow.

He looked different already. A week of food and medical treatments. His teeth pulled and cleaned. The interim dentures gave him a full tooth cylinder that had changed his face. His eyes didn't look as sunken. The trailing grey beard had been neatly trimmed. There was a new glow in his eyes, even when he was grumbling.

Ibis was tempted to wake him up and ask him if he wanted another hit shower. But there had been something else on her heart since they had talked last night. Unsure how quickly he would want to make wedding arrangements, she needed to get him a gift. And she already knew just what she wanted to find for him. The chances of getting one were not great, though. She had a sinking suspicion she would need a different idea. Ibis called up a map of the promenade, picked some vendors in the right category and looked for someone with early enough hours. Timeless Treasures was the first to come up.

She pulled on a dress, tied the back and grabbed some sandals, wrapping her hair and pinning it back messily.

"Computer, post a memo," She whispered. "Went for a walk. I'll be back before breakfast." The note appeared on the desktop. Hopefully she'd be back to erase it before anyone even noticed...

The promenade was huge. Ibis felt dwarfed as she hurried along, reminding herself she didn't have time to wander and explore. She would be back this way in not to log for breakfast and she needed to get back in time to convince Olivia to wear something appropriate.

She came up soon enough on the art gallery... Timeless Treasures. The displays held mostly landscape paintings, and a couple of portraits. Ibis found that promising and entered the shop, pleased to find the door unlocked.

"Hello?" she called timidly across the Gallery. It seemed rude to shout in a place full of fine art.

Upon his arrival on O.C. Brek had discovered that he needed very little sleep. Four to five hours were as much isolation as his constitution could endure. After that, the urge to be in profit gripped him. There were new connections to be made, new business ideas to explore. Not a minute to waste really. So despite the early hour, the gallery was open, hoping to catch those famed early birds. He was in his office, working on the final steps that would reunite a rare manuscript from Earth’s middle age to an avid collector. The delivery of such a precious item demanded absolute care, and Brek opted to use one of his trusted agents. A pilot who always acted fast and yet with discretion.

He was going to celebrate this juicy transaction with a glass of black rum, but the security camera indicated that the gallery had indeed caught an early bird and so Brek rushed to the exhibition room, hopefully to make another sale. Today, the day that his grandmother and her guest were set to arrive, he had donned a bright orange shirt with large blue floral motifs. It was crucial that, for his wealthy relative, he showed all the markings of happiness and opulence.

“Yes, Ms? How can I be of service?” Brek asked as soon as he faced what looked to him like a Betazoid native. She was about his height and had a faraway look about her. This might indicate some hesitation on her part, so he promptly added: “I have paintings in many styles, and what I don’t have right now, I can find with ease.”

"I'm not sure if... " Ibis trained off, looking at a landscape painting. She hadn't seen fine art in a long time. It made her miss sketching. "You can really find anything? With ease?"

“If the artwork exists and is legit, I’ll find it, of that there is no doubt,” Brek said. He was a little puzzled, though, because the more he observed this new customer, the more she looked familiar. Yet he was also convinced he had never seen her on the Promenade. Then again, species with little ears, they all look more or less the same, don’t they?

"There's an artist. He might be a little obscure. He was a traditional artist. At least I think he was." She tried hard to recall what Wallace had once mentioned off hand about his dad being an artist, once when they had talked while she was working on a botanical sketch in her journal. "I don't think he was high profile or anything. I don't know how many pieces he made or sold or..." she trailed off again. "If you can't find any of his work, I understand. I just thought I could ask. It's for a gift. "

“Oh...” Brek said, a little bit dismayed there. Still a paying customer should never be disappointed. “We are talking of a little known artist... All the better! I love a challenge, and it may give us the opportunity to revive the career of your artist. What is the name of this fine master?”

"Oh. John A. Wallace. I.... I don't know what the A stands for. He was probably working forty or fifty years ago."

“Hmm, let me see... Terran artist... Contemporary, but not too modern.” Brek performed a search on a PaDD, and moments later, he spoke again. “I have a John Wallace here... a splendid watercolorist. But alas, no. This great artist passed away in 1905. Too old, then. Where on Earth is your Wallace from? We need to narrow down his obscurity a little.”

“Ah, North America, west coast, I think. Around Los Angeles?”

“Yes this will help.” The Ferengi entered a batch of new queries on his PaDD. “It might take a little while... Surprisingly there are a fair number of Terran artists with the name John Wallace... Have you just arrived on O.C., Ms?"

“Ah, right. Sorry.” She blushed. She felt so awkward making introductions. Or forgetting to. “Ibis Xeri.”

“Ms Xeri...” Brek repeated. He felt sure he had heard the name before, and yet he couldn’t pinpoint where. He was involved in so many transactions, without speaking of those people he tried to avoid, like Senator Thitus, that his life was rather chaotic at the moment.

“Is the owner of this gallery… Romulan?”

“I beg your pardon?” Brek asked, lost as he was in his attempt to place this new client. “The owner of this gallery is Ferengi, it is me. Mr Brek, at your service.” He smiled, but this was another reminder that Moon was right. He should be choosing his clothes more carefully, so as to look like a genuine businessman.

“Sorry, I just… all of the signatures in your gallery are romulan script.” She smiled brightly. “I’m glad I’m talking directly to the proprietor. You were the only one on the vendor directory opened at this hour.”

“No harm done, Ms Xeri. I happen to have a great passion for Romulan art. And of course my gallery opens early and closes late because my whole life is in it.” His PaDD beeped and Brek consulted it. “Ah, we’ve got a hit! One John A. Wallace. California. Earth. We have a picture, and a few examples of his work. Hmm... Very heteroclite he was.” Brek turned the PaDD toward Xeri, so that she could see for herself. “He was proficient, no matter what he painted or carved. Watercolours, murals, ceramics, he tried everything.”

Ibis accepted the display padd and touch scrolled the entry. Even though it was only about his professional life in brief, there was far more to read than Wallace had ever mentioned about his father to her. She found herself pausing at his picture, examining his face to see what Porter had taken from him in resemblance. There was a clenched jaw in the portrait, and Ibis took it as a stubborn streak, knowing immediately that it ran in a direct line from father to son. Although the selected images were few and mostly focused on his larger murals and public works, she could see he was focused intently on his studio work. She also picked up the mention of the late John Wallace being widowed young, reminding her that Porter's family had dealt with loss since he was a kid. She would never have the chance to know his parents.

"It looks like most of his art was for public projects?" Ibis said, marveling at the mosaics and murals and reliefs depicted in the thumbnails, sure that the catalog barely scratched the surface of experiencing them. That was not uncommon in the arts on the central worlds. Private art was elitist, and often frowned on if it wasn't donated or gifted. Works that sold to collectors would often as not end up off world. Anything of value by a recognized artist ended up in public collections. There were nine digitized sketchbooks entered in the holographic reference library, relating to the planning of several of John Wallace's installations. But the books themselves were permanent reference collections, in stasis storage.

While she was impressed by the brief entry and an artist who worked on bigger than life on projects made to last the ages, she realized it was probably not good for her idea. "Are there... studies or anything that ended up off world? Maybe early work or... anything?"

He took the PaDD back. “Let me see if I can trace some of his work...” As the computer did its work, Brek finally realised how and why he knew this potential customer.. Even the name Wallace, he had heard of recently. They were the two survivors from the USS Sunrise. There had been rumours about their presence, their accomplishments and their achievements. All positive vibes. So he had, in front of him, a VIP! This was most excellent. “We are in luck,” he added after a little while. “The Museum of Contemporary Art, on Tenabia, possesses a low relief carving from this artist. Part of a mural that was never completed. “It is not much, but it is something, all the same?” He added, hopeful.

Ibis looked at the image. It was in marble, but only half finished, a piece of a wing, probably twice as tall as herself, by the given dimensions. The description included the plan for the mural, intended to wrap around a curved stairwell in a university. The style of the plan was entered as Earth, Revitalized Style reflecting late twenty first century Post-War Interstellar Harmony Movement— pseudo-tessellated with interruptions. In the relief of the wing, there were still raw laser chisel marks. She checked the date and realized it had to be from a final unfinished work. John had passed away during the early assemblage. The catalog photos included a picture of the studio with the half carved wing on an oversized work table, surrounded by tools and reference material, and a well-worn work apron draped over a stool. He'd passed away during the Dominion war as well, although Ibis wasn't sure the cause. The entry only gave the date.

"Would the museum release it, do you think?" Ibis asked. She was uncertain that owning it was even an option. She barely owned anything at all, and it looked like it would take an entire half of their living room, and possibly not fit upright. "Or... do you think you could just... arrange for it to be installed somewhere here on the station? I mean... his art was meant for the public. Maybe we could have it installed somewhere it could be seen here?"

“Well...” Brek said, as his mind moved from the idea of a private sale, leading to private profits, to that of working on a public project, where the art is shared rather than possessed. Something that’s good for one’s reputation, but rather useless for one’s e-wallet. “One has to admit that, with this piece of art being so large, a public installation would be preferable. And of course everyone would be able to enjoy this carving, which is what the artist would have wanted.” He nodded his head, as if to reassure himself that he was taking the right decision. Besides, what choice did he have? Was he really willing to be unpleasant to CPO Xeri and by extension to Major Wallace?

“Now,” he resumed. “Seeing that the Museum of Contemporary Art which currently owns this carving is rather small, I would imagine that it won’t be too difficult to find an agreeable price for this piece of art. You can leave all those details to me, I’ll see to it that everything is done swiftly. Where would you like to see this carving installed? On the promenade itself, or a more secluded place like a park in the environmental ring? Also, would you want a private ceremony for the introduction of this piece of art? The whole process can be as lavish or as discreet as you want, Ms Xeri.”

"I'm not sure. It was an idea I woke up with to find Wallace a piece of art by his father. He never told me his father was a public works artist! I hadn't considered looking for a gift would turn into a project of this... scale." And then she wondered about time scale as well. It could be weeks or months putting up an installation. For all she knew Wallace was arranging a ceremony for this afternoon. The thought made her smile. The gift might just have to be after the fact. "I like any of those ideas. On the Promenade, or in the park, or maybe in one of the observation lounges that look out into the stars."

“Yes, this art quest is turning into quite a project; and a beautiful one it is.” Brek said as he contemplated the different tasks he would have to tackle. “The best approach would be to list those places you are considering for this art installation, and let the Station tell us which emplacement would be the most appropriate.”

"Assuming the station agrees to the installation, and the museum even wants to part with it, will you tell me how long you think it will take to negotiate and to deliver? And how much it might cost? Or do you think we'll have to speak again when you do have an idea?"

“The museum will part with this piece of art, I will be relentless.” Brek added. “As for how long the delivery will take, I cannot say. I will be able to send you regular updates, though. Now, regarding the price for this project..." The Ferengi first winced and then he shrugged. "It's out of my hands because I'm turning this quest into a cultural venture. The Fleet will pay for it, and it will be presented to them in such a way that they will be delighted to do so. Well... It looks like we have everything covered so far... Unless you can think of some additional points that are important to you, Ms Xeri?”

Ibis knew that even if she had retained her telepathy, she couldn't have read the Ferengi's mind, and yet she watched his face go through the different emotions. It was convincing when he said he would acquire the work by sheer determination. And yet it seemed he was probably going to accept slim to no margins in going to all his trouble, as he winced when he said he would use the station's public funds, probably expecting they would only cover costs. It seemed to Ibis he was intending to go to a lot of trouble with little promise of profit. She let that thought warm her heart, knowing that it was probably against his nature. She decided to think of some other way to repay him for his troubles, and another idea began to sprout.

"No, I think that's all. Just let me leave you my contact. Be sure to send messages just to me. I'd like to try to surprise Wallace, if it's possible." Ibis found the notes feature on the padd they had been using and put down her new ID link. It took her a moment to remember the contact codes, as they were issued new ones, the old IDs had to be revived and hadn't gone through the system entirely yet. She stood again, straightening out her dress. "Is there a shop here where artists can get authentic supplies? Papers and pigments and things? That you know of?"

Brek had taken Xeri's details, and with no prospect of earning good latinum with this project, his mood wasn’t as its best. Sure, this art installation would be good for his reputation. Might even bring more work - hopefully of the paying variety. But how long would this shine last? In the end, all that would remain was John A. Wallace and the survivors of the Sunrise. But then the Betazoid woman continued to talk and Brek felt better. “I do sell art supplies!” He said with great enthusiasm. “He went through various pages on his PaDD, until he found a list of those supplies he had in store at the moment. Once more he presented the PaDD to Xeri.

“Everything I sell is authentic,” He continued. “Sketchbooks, notebooks, watercolour blocks, canvas. Pencils, pigments and powders. I’m in the business of keeping artists happy.”

Scrolling all of the inventory, Ibis began to select and build an order, her eyes welling with tears. "It's been a long time since I drew anything on any medium other than sticks on the sand. But I do have a lot of back pay of credit stipends..." She started selecting journals, pads, graphites, paint sticks, palettes, brushes...

“I should also point out that, if you are an artist, Ms Xeri, I would be more than happy to represent you. My tariffs are well within the norms found in the industry.” He inserted a smile there, because it is what one does to encourage business.

"If I can can make anything worth showing, I'll bring it to you." Ibis promised.

Brek looked away when he saw that Xeri was on the verge of tears. He never knew how to react to that sort of emotion, and so he often kept quiet. It was the best way not to put his foot in his mouth, really. “Art can never be rushed, I have learned that much,” he nonetheless added. “It is also important that you do what you like at your own pace, Ms Xeri. On my side, there isn’t one artform I wouldn’t consider. Not one. Higher art, lower art, sketches, pet portraits, sculptures... There’s a market for everything. But listen to me babbling. The art of shutting up, I haven't mastered yet...”

"I have to get back," Ibis stood, suddenly remembering the breakfast plans with the Admiral, and giving Brek the tablet with the order. "I've put my room number for delivery."

“This is most excellent. Thank you for your business, Ms Xeri." Brek said with a little bow. This early hour had been rather profitable, after all. "Your supplies will be with you by this afternoon.”

"It will seem like Christmas morning! I already feel the anticipation." Ibis practically glowed as she stood and rubbed away the tears at the same time. "Thank you Mr. Brek."

Having once experienced a Christmas morning, several years ago, Brek grinned. “Always happy to help a paying customer, Ms Xeri.”