Under the Lense

Posted on 11 Oct 2023 @ 6:00pm by Aiden Dhow
Edited on on 06 Feb 2024 @ 10:14pm

Mission: M4 - Falling Out
Location: El Aurian Colony, Obsidian
Timeline: MD 04 - Late Morning
1947 words - 3.9 OF Standard Post Measure

Previously:

Aiden knew the statement should give him comfort, but all he felt was cold inside. He willed himself not to shrug Kitaan off too soon, but the moment the man released his grip, he shifted back. “I … I need some time to think.” He moved past Kitaan and fled the room.

Watching him go, the older man shook his head. Admittedly he was still learning details of Aiden’s past, but what he did know – what he had witnessed in the months before this project took up his time and brought him here – was enough to secure his trust in the young man’s motives, and to let him share in the frustration now weighing him down. As Kitaan turned to leave the room his gaze fell on the newest image laying on the table, taking in the shape of a father protectively cradling his errant daughter, and sighed before stepping out the door.


Continuing:

“Order,” a wizened man of indeterminate age sharply tapped the rounded stone to it’s curved holder, dark eyes sweeping over the gathered colonists before taking in his fellow councilors. Alfred Peynirci - more often than not addressed as ‘Fez’ though he’d often protested the moniker - was a stickler for protocol and refused to carry on until he felt the appropriate level of decorum controlled the room. “If you lot are wanting to get to the bottom of this situation, I suggest you gather your wits and come to peace so we can continue here.”

While his irritated speech did little to settle the group, Shirin’s abrupt whistle did cut through the clamor, bringing a wave of silence in its wake. She smiled innocently to Peynirci before settling back into her seat at Cyrus’ side. Though they were not official councilors, they did hold a position of leadership within the colony - along with Captain Dhow who set with as much calm as he could manage alongside them.

“Ahem … yes. Now, we as a council have had a chance to look through the petition brought by our guests,” his gaze fell on the somewhat motley collection of Refugees, before taking in their representatives on the council, “And fellow occupants of this colony. To point, a complaint is lodged against one Aiden Dhow by Xerne tr’Azaoc. By his claim, this man has been acting in a suspicious manner, making recordings of the colony - and in particular Xerne’s young daughter, Ayalou, with no clarification of just what his purpose is.”

Kitaan pressed his lips tight together; he knew Alfred was simply stating the matter directly as Xerne had reported it; the council had already gone over the complaint with him, letting him know the nature of the man’s concern, but hearing it read aloud set his teeth on edge, and it was all he could do to keep from glancing over at the man himself just to see how he was handling all this. He felt a pressure at his knee, and glanced aside to see Cyrus flash him a quick smile, before nodding up to the bench where the Councilors were peering at him with a thin measure of patience. “Forgive me,” he offered.

“Captain Dhow,” Another councilor, one Duhvan Sulman, nodded. “Please approach the floor and share with the community what you know of the accused.”

Kit rose to his feet and stepped into the circular opening, inclining his head shortly before turning to face the audience. “Aiden Dhow - as you may gather by his name - is a kinsman of mine. His mother is my sister, making the two of them my only surviving blood family. I invited Aiden to join me on the planet, and to explore the colony; he has spent the first part of his life shuttled about in space and has never truly experienced a stationary life before this point. As to his purpose?” He looked down at the portfolio he held in his hands. “His employer gifted him with an antique camera - those of you with Terran experience may be familiar with the device. It is some several hundred years old, operated manually, and generates photographs which must be developed by hand. I have been mentoring Aiden where I can, though I will admit we have both had to do a good amount of research to get the process just right.” He moved to set the portfolio on the long curved table.

“These are a handful of photos which Aiden has taken. There are a few that are still somewhat blurred, but as you’ll see he’s getting a handle on the process.” Kit’s eyes swept across the crowd, settling on the man he recognized from the photo in Aiden’s workroom. “He has said - and I can assure you he would tell you himself - that any photos he takes which have marked individuals or buildings personal to the Colony will be presented for consideration. All others - landscape shots taken here and outside of the Bajada as well - will be sold to his employer.”

The statement set off a rush of protest and Alfred knocked his gavel rock once again. “Settle yourselves! Captain Dhow - would you please inform this group just who your nephew’s employer is?”

Kit nodded. “Of course. Aiden works for Miss Sylvie Hardt on the station - she is an art dealer, and has told Aiden any pictures he takes which she deems suitable she will sell in her shop. I saw this as an opportunity to provide a window to the Federation as to the nature of this settlement. As you know, the original project to settle this Bajada was a joint Federation & Civilian venture, and has been supported by investors from Earth and other planets within our realm of influence. While our goal is to attain self-sufficiency through practices the council has practiced for generations on end, that initial support has been beneficial in getting the resources we needed to start on this path.”

The sole woman on the council, and a member of the Refugee side, cleared her throat. “Captain Dhow. I am sure you understand the fragility of our situation here. While we are grateful for the Colony giving us a place to settle and regain our lives, it must be understood that we still doubt the entirety of our security here. Only days within arriving to the station, our group was targeted in an attack that cost even more lives than we had lost to this point. Xerne’s own brother was critically injured in the event, so I am sure you can understand the gravity of our situation here.” Though she spoke with measured tones, the message was clear - broadcasting their state to the universe at large was the last thing any of them wanted.

“Which is why Aiden is only keeping pictures with no connection to the Colony’s direct location or the people involved unless they are released by the Colony itself.” Kit pointed to the collection. “Look for yourself; these are the most ‘revealing’ of the lot.” All save one, he knew; he hadn’t the heart to take that one from Aiden just yet unless he needed to prove his point further. “Not one of these broadcasts more than a mixture of Romulan and El Aurian individuals. The photos themselves are so archaic that - even should the wrong eyes fall upon them - they would have no markers, no hidden information to divulge the location of the colony itself. Consider also it is known by those of Obsidian Command that your group has been given refuge here; if your enemies had a will to exploit this, they would find no information there to pinpoint your exact location. They would have to approach the Obsidianites themselves for directions, and as you all know THAT council guards their information from any they deem outsiders.”

There was little change in the woman’s demeanor, and Kit realized from the sounds behind him that the refugees shared her hesitance. Duhven spoke up then, casting a sympathetic gaze Kit’s way. “You all know the nature of this settlement - while the fields are open and accessible to the sun, the inhabited sector provides adequate protection from above. Beyond that fact, this cavern is deep and massive, and guarded with impenetrable boundaries. Should an incident arise, the security of those in our settlement would be held in the highest regard. We would hazard no threat against any who abide here, regardless of origin; our invitation to join this Colony will always stand firm, and having taken up residence here, you are equals in our sight.”

The female Councilor, S’Task, held up a few of the photos to show to her compatriots. They were as Dhow stated - simplistic, casually appealing to view, but betraying nothing sinister in the angle or subject matter. Added to this was the interference of the head-scarves most wore out of doors, covering tell-tale ears. About the only true differences were tone of skin - these El Aurians seemed to be dark to an individual, save for Dhow and his supposed nephew. Likely, that similarity spoke more to their relation than anything. “You say your nephew came here, but not your sister. Is there a reason she chose not to join her son in this new life?”

Kit tensed. It was a simple question, and he should treat it as such. “For all I regard Aiden as a boy, he is not quite a century younger than myself.” In all honesty, even that was a guess, as neither Talia nor Aiden could recall exactly when he’d been born; the date had been pinned by the doctors who had assessed Aiden. “I left my home planet when I was a young man to explore. In my absence my homeworld was destroyed and my family all killed save for my sister who had been spirited away from the planet by her captors before the catastrophe. She lived in a state of slavery and gave birth to Aiden in that environment. Her captors forced him to work for them when he grew old enough, threatening my sister whenever he would resist. It was only recently that he found an ally who could help liberate his mother from captivity and spirit her away to a location unknown to their captors. Aiden himself faked his own death and came to live with me as a matter for his own security.”

“Security from whom, Captain?”

“Is this really necessary?” Cyrus spoke up now, his laconic tone at odds with the tension in the room. “The Captain just stated that - for all intents and purposes - whomever was responsible has no reason to believe the lad still lives.

S’Task glared at him. “It is perfectly relevant. If his charade was broken, we deserve to know who might come knocking at our door should he remain here on the planet.”

Shaking his head to the man, Kit’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “He was controlled by the Orion Syndicate.” The uproar that resulted from that was beyond the Council’s ability to control. As Cyrus ushered Kit away from the council room before an outright mob could develop, the face of the Romulan father passed his line of sight - pale skin washed with a flush of anger, and then it was all shut away as a recess was called. Leaning his head and shoulders back against cool rock, Kit could only hope the council could talk some peace into the mass before all hell broke loose.

{{TBC}}