[IRW Aylhr] Penumbra - SD242303.17 - [Backlog] Heat Wave PT 1 - T'Imina & Nniol-

A Mission Post by erie'Riov T'Imina t'Verelan & erie'Arrain Nniol tr'Rehu
Mission: Penumbra
Location: Club Khoey Arhae, Ki Baratan, Romulus
Timeline: 2420(ish)

[Part One]

[Club Khoey Arhae, Ki Baratan, Romulus]
[2420]
22:30 Hours

T'Imina tipped the narrow crystal flute backward and engulfed the lime green liquid that was contained within it, her fourth or fifth glass at this point. She pushed the glass forward towards one of the barkeeps and tapped on the rim, indicating it was time for another. There had been several others clustering near the area she was seated, a couple of younger men had been eyeing her rather inconspicuously. She couldn't blame them as she had spared no expense in what she had selected to wear for the evening. A body tight, emerald green sequin dress with matching silver and emerald earrings and accessories.

Only a few hours prior, after having had the pleasure of staying with her father for the past couple of weeks, the recently reinstated erie'Riov had finally received her next assignment. A most welcome turn of events as it would see to her leave from Romulus and the Verelan estate once more. She would again be within the ranks of the Tal'Diann, as Legate of the the IRW Vadmoir - a much more prestigious vessel than her prior posting as Rhaetelh'Saehne of the scout vessel T'Shan. The Vadmoir, a D'Deridex class vessel would offer much more in terms of creature comforts and luxuries - a welcome change, but also much more appropriate for someone of her rank and class.

Somehow though - upon sharing the news with one of her only friends on Romulus, one T'Soreth, here she was now half drunk in one of Ki Barant's most elite clubs. T'Imina was not one for frequenting such establishments, but T'Soreth insisted on celebrations for her new appointment. T'Imina's crimson red eyes glanced to her right to see her friend immersed in a crowd that was dancing to some typical club music, a hearty bass and synth sound which was quite catching carried its way over to her stubborn non-dancing self. It eventually weaved its way through her tough barrier and even her own shoulders started to sway slightly with the beat.

"You could go dance you know.." The bartender passed her another drink. "Looks like your friend is enjoying herself."

T'Imina snatched the drink and glared at the man, "You just keep such suggestions to yourself and the drinks coming. I do not dance." Her words were cold but a slight twitch in her expression gave her act away. She wasn't really as perturbed by the friendly push as she was trying to play off.

A loud commotion in the bar caused several patrons to look up at a cadre of young boisterous Romulan fighter jockeys walking in. Several of them were laughing hysterically while one had his arm draped around the center jockey joking about something.

"You should have seen the look on his face Nniol!" He howled "he damn near shit his pants."

"I think he did shit his pants." Another added with a hearty chuckle.

The group sat down at the bar and Nniol lightly tapped the bar top with his hand to get the bartender's attention. "Five glasses of ale, lightly watered down." He smirked at his friends "these kids can't handle the full stuff yet. They're sticking sucking on their mother's titties."

"Enh, you're one to talk tr'Rehu! You practically live on your mother's tit!" The group busted out in hysterical laughter again. The young patted Nniol on the back "a good bottle of rhennish for Nniol tr'Rehu! He was just assigned to the IRW Javelin as their fighter squadron commander!" A series of cheers rang out from the group.

T'Imina glanced up from her glass and took notice of the group of young and loud men that had placed themselves near her at the bar. It wasn't quite her taste to hear descriptions of sucking on one's own mother's tits, but she could tell they were in a jolly state and in a mood to celebrate. In particular, she took notice of the tall one they had referred to as Nniol - probably the most handsome of the bunch and the one the others had indicated was celebrating a promotion of his own. T'Imina had sworn she heard the name 'tr'Rehu' but could not be certain - it was a name all too familiar to her as it was a name hated in her own clan and circles. Her father despised their very own Galae'EnRiov who was a t'Rehu. It was a detail she would have likely taken more notice too, had she cared enough at the moment.

"Make it the best bottle of rhennish you have, barkeep... On me..." T'Imina interjected into the group, not quite sure why the words had slipped her mouth but embracing it nonetheless. It was certainly her own alcohol blood level at play now, but likely more so the fact she was quite physically attracted to the man she just purchased a very expensive bottle of rhennish for. "Congratulations.." She stated in an unusually soft tone. Her own eyes made contact with the intense violet eyes of Nniol and she caught herself momentarily breathless.

'Oh get a hold of yourself T'Imina, you are acting like a child' Her inner conscience had decided to creep up and voice its discontent. She raised her own glass in a mock toast before taking another large gulp herself.

One of his friends, Nvaid tr'Rahkol, leaned in and whispered into Nniol's ear "looks like that erie'Riov has her eye on you…" he pulled away and chuckled. "Thank you for the gesture…" he looked at the erie'Riov "and what might your name be so we can properly thank you?" He turned his head towards Nniol with a smirk and mouthed 'maybe you will get double lucky tonight EnEredh!'

For his part, Nniol simply waved his drunken friend away and looked at the woman. She was athletically lean with striking red eyes. He smiled at her "hann'yyo" he said in Rihannsu, with the melodious dialect of the Northernmost continent tinged with the flair of someone who also routinely spoke Federation standard. Though most wouldn't realize it. His speech just seemed to have a strange edge to it and most simply dismissed it as an exotic mix of influences, beautifully foreign but yet very Romulan. "I appreciate the gesture. I am Nniol tr'Rehu, who might my generous benefactor be tonight so I can thank you properly?"

T'Imina's body language softened slightly, something that was not a commonality for her. She playfully used her left hand to move her hair back out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Her right index finger caressed the rim of her champagne flute, but it did stop in its tracks when Nniol shared his full name with her. It was tr'Rehu that she had heard. T'Imina pursed her lips slightly and then grasped the drink once more, slipping it back and finishing its contents. The barkeep had proactively taken notice and began working on a replacement for her.

"You're quite welcome, Nniol." She had regrouped herself, hoping the momentary change in her body language had fallen unnoticed by tr'Rehu. Had she had her full wits about her, T'Imina would have ended the conversation then and there and taken her leave. His violet eyes though, and the assuredness and confidence he seemed to exhume were far too enticing. It had been too long since she had given in to the search to satisfy particular needs. "I am T'Imina t'Verelan." Her own crimson-red eyes maintained a lock on Nniol's. This was dangerous territory but that had become part of the allure of the entire encounter.

"So you're a flyboy, then? And now moving on to have command of your own squadron.. Your parents must be proud..." She made not assumptions that it was indeed who her gut was telling her it was, but instead would see if he himself would confirm her own suspicions.

"Mmhmm." He smirked at her, she was pretty and high ranking. It would be quite a score. Nniol nodded his head "pride, such an interesting concept. My parents acknowledge me, I guess it's more than some can say." He chuckled. The bartender set a glass tumbler in front of him filled with a vibrant purple liquid that shimmered as vibrantly as his eyes. Touching the glass, he gently traced the rim with his finger as he watched her "what about you t'Verelan, are your parents 'proud'" he emphasized the word 'proud' in a slightly melodious way "of you?"

"I would like to think my ri'ranov would be if she was alive." It was more than T'Imina wanted to share, but the statement slipped her lips. She hardened her expression for a moment, not quite sure how to continue. This was certainly not romantic, sharing one's own losses. Truth be told - her mother would likely have been both proud and fearful of what T'Imina had turned into - largely in part to her horrid father. "My di'ranov, as you so nicely put it... acknowledges me..." More than she would like sometimes and a mild description of the suffering she had endured at his will.

Feeling a desire to swiftly move past the subject of parents, T'Imina reached for Nniol's glass - "I hope you don't mind..." She swiftly lifted it and inhaled the scent of the purple liquid for a moment before playing her lips around the edge of the glass and taking a small sip - she swished the liquid around for a moment, savoring it before returning the glass to him. "Hmm... Not bad... The taste of a matured vintage certainly is pleasing..."

"Rhennish, an alcohol for the more refined pallet." Nniol lifted the glass, tipped it's edge towards T'Imina in acknowledgment and then downed half of it in one long gulp. He let out a light hiss as it burned down his throat. Unlike ale which had a sharpness like drinking dull glass, rhennish was like a warm fire that slowly grew until it tapered away smoothly. "A good vintage, wasted on this flyboy." He chuckled and set the glass down in front of her with a noticeable click against the bar top. "Go ahead, try it" he slid the glass closer to her hand and looked into those crimson eyes that seemed to glow against the dim lighting.

"I'll be the judge if it has been wasted.... flyboy." T'Imina took another sip of the liquid, her eyes maintaining contact with his. Her own heart started pounding in her chest - and it wasn't the pleasant burning sensation of the Rhennish. It was her own desire to have Nniol, a burning desire that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing playful remark between them.

[To be continued...]

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