Shadows of Obligation - Pt 1
Posted on 10 Apr 2025 @ 7:56am by Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: OC - T’Sheng Quarters / Obsidian - Kalara City
1319 words - 2.6 OF Standard Post Measure
T’Sheng was traveling light. Two bags held her essentials: clothes, a first aid kit, dehydrated meals, and a set of tools. The real groundwork - the preparations, precautions, and coordination - would be managed by the charity organization she had recently joined. Aptly named F.E.T.C.H. (Foundation for Education, Technology, and Cultural Harmony), it championed learning, innovation, and unity among displaced populations. A clever choice of words that implied many promises. Whether those would be fulfilled was of little concern to the Vulcan Diplomat. What mattered was that under the guise of a diligent charity worker, she would investigate, ask questions, and track down the whereabouts of a specific Romulan family.
A family, of course, suggested the presence of at least one child. This alone meant those people would likely be highly protective, anxious, and potentially hypervigilant. Naturally, there were hundreds of such families scattered across the refugee camp. Her task would be to swiftly evaluate and determine who among them were the most plausible... candidates. A fitting term, she thought. She was not going to Obsidian to hunt but to undertake a mission - a mission with clearly defined objectives, leaving no room for sentiment.
As she reached for her bags, the PaDD on her desk buzzed, signaling the arrival of a message. Eager for fresh intel, she checked it - only to see that it was from T’Evara, her daughter. The timing was so highly inconvenient that T’Sheng hesitated, but only for a few seconds. Now was not the time for social interactions so she left her quarters. Behind those doors, the PaDD would continue to demand her attention for five long minutes.
With the invaluable aid of Oly, known by different names in different circles, T’Sheng had visited the city a short while ago. She was a little surprised to see that today, everything looked less menacing. Gone was the fear of shadows lurking in every corner, as was the anxiety that each passerby’s glance might carry judgment, suspicion, or even malice. Today, she had the protection of a charity organization behind her. This allowed her to see Kalara in a better light. She noticed the aroma of spices, rich and heady, along with that of freshly baked flatbreads, and even hints of incense and perfumed oils which added an exotic sweetness to the picture. The only shadow was that of her moral conflict. She had accepted Oly’s friendship, yet here she was, exploiting the knowledge she had gained from him. ...Such were the pulls of obligation.
Her attention was drawn to the voices of the merchants, hawking their wares, the faint echoes of music, and the erratic rumble of vehicles weaving through the main streets. Life, in all its diversity, something which, she knew, she would never be able to truly experience, or appreciate. This lively cacophony nearly vanished when she entered the offices of FETCH and the doors closed behind her. This was a fresh haven, with its walls covered with posters, flags and notes. Here only one voice resonated, crystalline, with assertive undertones. It belonged to a woman entirely at ease with herself and her accomplishments: Leilani Noor.
Born on Bajor, Mrs Noor had, her profile revealed, endured every conceivable humiliation during the Cardassian occupation. A guiding soul like hers would not rest though. She had travelled extensively, always to help people and, six years ago, she had settled on Obsidian to provide solutions and relief to the refugees. T’Sheng had encountered others like her in the past. People who sought to learn new things about pain. A pain that they wanted to soothe and eliminate. The goal was commendable, of course, but also terribly futile.
Presentations were made swiftly. Everything was clear-cut and needed to be done two hours ago, so that the team of workers - there were ten of them today - were always submerged with tasks; or as Mrs Noor preferred to say: organized chaos. Another worker had used the words ‘keeping the hamster wheel in motion’ but T’Sheng had found the image utterly absurd.
She had been assigned to the preparation of nutritious meals, destined to Romulan the refugee camp. Legumes, beans and whole grain flatbreads, easy to prepare and dispatch. T’Sheng figured that there were many officers and civilians on Obsidian Station who enjoyed giving resources to charities, to elevate their self-esteem. She was not one of them. Helping the Romulans, struck her as a grotesque notion...
An hour later, while she was engrossed in her food preparation, baking the bread, Noors’ commanding voice rang out again.
“So... T’Sheng. You are a commander within Starfleet, and a diplomatic officer as well, I see.”
“As noted in my profile,” T’Sheng said, making an effort to smile. She had not anticipated a background check. She was here to ferret around and make other people speak while she said as little as possible about herself. A silence followed, which she felt wiser to interrupt. “My schedule is quite open at the moment. I sensed a need to do something fulfilling and positive, where I could make a true difference.”
The two women, standing face to face, bore a striking resemblance. Both were clad in grey robes, their heads wrapped in sand-colored scarves. Both had dark hair and stern features.
Only T’Sheng was taller and unmistakably Vulcan, while Noor had distinct Bajoran ridges along her nose.
“You don’t make a difference in your department?” Noor enquired.
“I do, but in diplomacy, most motions take time to yield results,” T’Sheng explained. “Here, work is more straightforward and gratifying. It makes for a much needed change of pace.”
“Does it?” Noor considered T’Sheng, who, on her side, started to feel awkward. Should she have concealed her real identity and present a fake personae instead? “You sound like a wide-eyed recruit who thinks they can change the world by volunteering for a few months. This is not how things work. Real changes happen in offices. The kind of office you actually come from, commander.”
“Your point is valid, Mrs Noor,” T’Sheng replied, regaining confidence. She knew how to deflate such arguments. “But whilst I am here, I can help put food on the refugees’ table, and deliver medicines too. This is tangible work. It happens now, and not in six months.”
“True enough... The work here is solid.” Noor conceded. “I guess we’ll soon see if you’re cut out for it. Marco...” She addressed one of the Terran cooks, who responded with a grunt. “Keep an eye on our new recruit.”
“Will do, Mam.” Marco replied with a faint smile.
He didn’t ooze confidence though. He was small and wiry and T’Sheng felt sure she could outsmart him easily.
The two women locked eyes for a few moments before T’Sheng decided it was wiser to avert her gaze. Once Noor had left and the meals were fully packed, T’Sheng approached Marco.
“Have I done something to offend Mrs Noor?”
The cook gave a nonchalant shrug. “Desk jockeys aren’t a common sight around here. She wants to see if you can pull your weight, ‘cause, to be honest, you don’t exactly seem familiar with, you know, hard work. I’d suggest you start by loading all the rations onto the shuttle. We leave at 11:00. Don’t let us down.”
“I have never let anyone down in my whole life,” T’Sheng remarked.
However, telling the truth was of little import here. She had sounded like a Vulcan with an inflated ego. A mistake that cost her dearly, as it took a full week of tedious labour before FETCH allowed her to visit the refugee camp.
