When Opportunity Knocks...
Posted on 10 Mar 2025 @ 7:53am by Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
889 words - 1.8 OF Standard Post Measure
The gallery was closed for the night, and the lights had been dimmed - every little helps when it came to saving money. Yet Timeless Treasures was not at rest. Brek’s voice echoed through its quiet halls as he wrestled with the prospect of spending more latinum than he wanted. This atmosphere cast an eerie undertone over the artwork adorning the walls. The seaside views from Ms Xeri and the romulan cityscapes from Bajeem looked even more expressive, almost mystical.
Two days into his quest to hire a new security team and Brek was crunching painkillers like they were some sweet delicacies. The greed of the candidates that Glutik had earmarked was prodigious. One human, for instance, with a cv the length of a Federation Starship, wanted a small percentage of the gallery’s revenue. Another, a half-Vulcan, wanted bonuses for recovered stolen goods. What gave her the illusion that he would allow his own possessions to be stolen in the first place? There was also an old Klingon who wanted big bonuses for “exceptionally dangerous” missions.
“For trade’s sake! I run an art gallery, not a latinum laundering service.”
Nyasha, who had been listening to his lamentations for a solid thirty minutes, politely cleared her throat - a rare act for someone designed to be perpetually charming.
“What?” Brek snapped.
“Well, Mr Brek. I would have thought that sentient beings were well aware that reality and people’s perceptions often diverge. The same goes with your mood. You are angry and frustrated, but really, it is only your hormones at play.”
“Where are you going with this?” Brek’s tone was angry, maybe a few seconds away from a full blown tantrum.
The holo-assistant gave a casual shrug. “Not far, I suppose. The point is... You do great things, and then, now and again, you do something that will harm your reputation. Take, for instance, your persistent friendliness with Senator Thitur.”
“Come off it! He is an old man, and about as offensive as a cup of tea. At worst he is lukewarm.”
Brek shifted his focus back to his PaDD, scrolling through the profiles of potential security recruits. He quite liked the résumé of the half-Vulcan woman. She had studied art, both visual and martial, and was also versed in meditation. With those talents, she might actually have a beneficial influence on him. What a pity that she was so expensive. He could negociate of course, and reduce her salary, but this would take time. Time that he didn’t want to give.
“That’s plain ridiculous! I don’t talk to Thitur,” Brek said, going back to the conversation. “He talks to me. It makes a huge difference. I can’t kick him out when he visits the gallery, I can’t ignore him either, he would just go pester someone else. So, as a decent Ferengi, I do the right thing, and I treat him with regards. You would hold that against me?”
“Absolutely not. I was just trying to say that...”
“To hell with it! I won’t hire any more staff. It’s not not worth the hassle. It’s as you said, Nyasha, the way we do things depends on our worldview. And I’ve just changed mine. Instead of fighting the press, I’ll embrace it. There will be no need then to have additional security to fend off intruders.” PaDD in hand, he selected a couple of VIP invitations for the Forsaken Shore’ exhibition, and he sent them to the office of that journalist with the impossibly long name - Eloise Khadra-Vogel. “Besides, Ms Xeri won’t be there for the art show. Vogel will just be wasting her time. The only thing she will see is beautiful art, and it might educate her a little. I might even manage to sell a painting or two. You see, when opportunity knocks, I’m already at the door!”
“This is a dramatic course correction, Mr Brek. I would not call it wise,” Nyasha remarked. She had lost her smile and looked concerned. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Never better. And I’ll tell you what is wise, Nyasha, I’ll add a new training module to your already fine repertoire: martial art. You can trust me to choose the best type ever.”
Of course, as soon as he started to look into this, he discovered that there were so many martial arts, it was next to impossible to make a quick and confident decision. So this too would take some consideration, and time. Darn it.
So a few minutes later, when he received a request from the diplomatic office to bar Vogel from attending the Forsaken Shore’ exhibition. He promptly rejected it, along with every other attempt to sway his decision.
As he did so, his gaze wandered to one of Ms Xeri paintings. The one with the sunset. The dim lighting had altered the composition, casting long and sharp shadows across the water, as if fleeing some unseen dread. This, he realized, made this specific painting horribly realistic. Had he been the superstitious type, he might have seen this as an ominous sign. Instead he marveled at the effect that light - or the lack of it - could have on one’s perceptions...
