Nobody paid attention to Asfastr as he crossed Ki Baratan's crowded streets. He passed by some soldiers who patrolled the city, but they didn't even spare a look at him. That was one advantage of being just a common worker. Other fellow artists always got attention, either for their appearances or their work. The police usually stopped them and the Tal Shiar kept them under surveillance, even if they had proven to be harmless and even were appreciated by those in power. The Empire also needed them, but preferred to closely watch them. As an average artisan, however, and one who had served in the military, they hardly cared about him, though, or so he thought. He had been in real danger when he decided to support her mother's lost cause, but since he had seemed to forget about it, so had seemed to do Koval.
And now he was free, just another anonymous citizen doing his daily errands, or idly walking the capitol's promenades. It was very important for him to melt in, because his family's dishonor, his suspecting job and his assistance to his mother's plans were minor trouble for what he really was in. Dryly, he mused, his mother had been wrongly accused of treason, however, there was a real traitor in the family, and that was him.
Asfastr left the main street to enter a park. There were many beautiful parks in Ki Baratan, and the children played in them, ignorant of the turbulent lives their parents led. Asfastr was born a rebel; he always questioned the government, the system, his education, his family, even the very Romulan way. However, his dissident opinions had always stayed silent in his mind, because he doubted seriously he could be right. Until his mother was apprehended and charged with treason. That day he realized something had to change. They were too violent, too intransigent, too narrow-minded; their government was too controlling, too manipulative, too corrupt. That day he decided that maybe he could not change his world, but he could at least improve his life and follow his own ideas; that day he set up for himself a new better code of values and courageously followed it. The moment he could, he left the military and pursued a new career in arts. The moment he could, he stopped warring and shyly started to talk about freedom and peace.
Asfastr took a narrow path into a cool forest; shadows loomed over him. He stopped to see if someone was following him. He appeared to be alone. He grasped the shoulder bag he was carrying tightly and went forward.
He could have gotten too many attention once he started to speak up, but the art school was an open space, and many radical but rather harmless young Romulans studied there. Nobody thought his views odd, and nobody cared about him, at least at first.
A small glade opened. Grass grew and covered completely a slight elevation to his left. It seemed a natural part of the terrain, but Asfastr knew it was actually a maintenance hut, constructed to melt with the surrounding vegetation and not damage the landscape. He neared it and crouched to reach a small digital panel. He pressed a code. The apparent ground turned out to be a door that opened with a hiss; there was light inside. Asfastr went in.
Asfastr had started working for his former fellow officers the moment he left the fleet. He had a natural talent for painting and he needed the money to go on with his life. He had hoped to dedicate his life to art, though, and when after six months in the art academy one of his teachers told him he had an offer for him, he thought his chance had come. His teacher, however, was not interested in his creations but in his ideas. They shared views for a while. Three months later, his new friend explained him a new revolutionary idea that would again shake his little world and commit him forward into his new way of life. That day not so far away he had discovered the movement his soul have blindly been searching for so long. That day his heart learnt a new word: Unification.
The maintenance hut was a cramped room that very difficult could serve as a meeting place. However, once the doors closed behind him and he felt safe and alone, he reached for the rudimentary computer inside and keyed his orders. There was a parallel city running in Ki Baratan's underground, and of course, the maintenance hut also had its entrance to the one under the park. Asfastr took down the stairs that led him into the tunnels, and the hut automatically switched off the lights.
So he was a traitor, or so said the Empire's official policy, and he knew he would be executed if he was caught. But he considered himself a patriot, for he fought for the Romulan people, for a better future for them, for a very needed change. Vulcans and Romulans were distant cousins and yet still very different. However, he reflected, nothing was gained from their mutual disdain and isolation, and much was learnt from sharing their views. Surak's way had helped him much, and he looked upon the day the old prejudices would fall and both their people could be again one.
When any Romulan wanted to do something illegal, they went down to the tunnels; everybody knew that, and the Tal Shiar searched them often. However, they were a complex labyrinth, one too wide and too chaotic to really control. Even if the Unification movement was a high priority for the Romulan authorities, there have been no notorious detentions for the last three years. The park's secret gathering seemed to be a good choice.
Asfastr had spoken several times with the most influential members he knew in the group. He knew one of them had to be the one who had passed him the information about Koval. He wanted to take another step forward, a risky one, maybe, a crazy one, surely. As a new associate in a clandestine organization, he had never really met the majority of the people who also shared his views, and he also had never seen the one who was their best teacher. He had been told he could speak with him soon, and he had been pressing to meet him now. He desperately needed him, for he was the only Federation citizen he knew. He doubted he would help him; he wondered why he would.
Four persons waited for him at the rendezvous place, the four of them very well known. They had become a second family to him. There was his teacher, talking with the older man who seemed to know so much about Vulcan and its culture. Listening intently was a young girl, the man's niece; she was always near him. And finally, a bit apart from the rest, a sensual woman whose usual aloofness only made Asfastr feel more attracted to her. He gulped; even in his predicament, he could not help fantasying with her, and for a moment his mind forgot all his worries, as he recreated himself with her presence. Reality hit him again, thought, and the old fears returned. Grasping his bag firmly, he fought to dominate the anxiety that threatened to overcome him. He neared them and shared greetings. Asfastr didn't dare to ask if he was really going to come. Since he had joined the movement, he had thought thousands of questions he wanted to pose to him; however, now, he only had one inquiry. With Surak's teachings, he tried to free his mind and heart, but the truth was his soul was still prisoner of his perceived failure to his mother. He could never run free until he settled that, and he was now before his last opportunity.
Silence. Asfastr noticed he was sweating. He could not help but fidget nervously.
"You wanted to see me."
The deep voice startled him. The five of them turned to face a tall hooded figure that came forward them from the darkness that enfolded them.
"Live long and prosper, Spock," said the eldest man between them.
"Peace and long life," answered back the man as he lifted his right hand in the Vulcan salute.
He neared them, and gazed each of them with a schooled serenity that could only be Vulcan. His dark eyes stayed on Asfastr a bit longer, and he guessed Spock knew he had been insisting in meeting him.
"I… I come to serve," Asfastr stammered at the traditional respectful words.
Spock inclined his head, "Your service is honored." And there was such a calm, such a control in that voice that Asfastr felt entranced.
The Vulcan man was still coolly looking at him, his face hardly visible under the long hood, but Asfastr had forgotten all the questions he had, even his important query, and now could only stare at Spock. The others, however, weren't so quiet, and soon their own questions were raised, and seating over the plumbs that filled the gallery, under the protection of the shadows, a fluid debate ensued as they shared they views.