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S-PLOT JL | Erei'Riov P'mai Tr'Bak, Rochelle Ivanova (MU) | "The Blade's Path" pt 1

Posted on 241710.04 @ 18:32 by Rochelle Ivanova & Lieutenant Ra'lin Sha'mer

Mission: Ebbtide

***NSFW TRIGGER WARNING; INTENSE GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AHEAD***


It had been months since Rochelle said good bye to Tr’Esun. Months since she’d watched them prepare and send his body back to Romulus. No one spoke a word of why it was that he’d died, there’d been nothing more than whispers of heart failure or something of that sort… Old age. Chalking his death up to something natural seemed cruel and unusual to her – but it was better than word of suicide or murder, and much much better than the wicked brand of treason. She’d known what it was. Felt what it was. Would never forget the time they shared together before Tr’Bak forced his hand and twisted the chilly smile of fate and forced it to shine against Tr’Esun’s favor… Chilly… Like the Romulan’s skin when she’d found him slumped over his desk. Cold like the verdant blood that had stained her hand when she tugged the dagger from his chest.

It was a heavy thing, its hilt jeweled with the promise of noble intention. She wasn’t supposed to carry it. A non-Rhihanssu in possession of such a unique and intrinsic piece of Romulan history was never meant for hands like hers; human, red blooded, an outsider and an infidel. Didn’t matter. Her cause was noble, or so she truly believed, and she felt the blade slide against the round of her hip, concealed against her flesh, with every elegant little shake and sway of her hips. The softness of her hair feathering against the bare skin of her back played a perfect counter balance to its unyielding steel. It wasn’t about style or fashion, though – she couldn’t have given a shit less as she traveled the Anima Venator’s corridors that morning. It wasn’t about the cheeky smiles or the sweet little greetings given to the crew as they got out of her way. It was no secret that they were still so very uncomfortable with her presence and made nervous by everything it was that she represented. Starfleet. The Commodore. Vindicator. Tr’Bak’s obsession.

It worked for her.

It worked for her in so far that no one questioned it as she let herself into Tr’Bak’s quarters even though they all knew he’d be on that bridge at that time. She was who she was; his pet… His dangerous, savage little pet and the hope for the Romulan Star Empire’s rise to greater glory – the key to bringing to Federation to its collective knees. They may not have even noticed that P’Mai Tr’Bak was readying herself for her day having arrived mere hours before, with how focused they were on avoiding her or catching her ire. To do so meant death… Tr’Bak had no patience for any who challenged his authority or poisoned her happiness. If only he knew how miserable the little red bitch really was… She’d remedy it herself.

“The green clashes with your skin,” She chirped, leaping to sit on the edge of Tr’Bak’s dining table, crossing her legs and drumming her fingers along her black clad legs. The fabric of her pants shimmered in the low light, almost liquid more so than cloth. “Go for the red if you really want to catch his attention.” Rochelle’s grin caught in her eyes, like fire, like a cat watching a wounded bird as she followed the Romulan Sub-commander's every move, “He loves red.”

"Thank you for your kind advice," P'Mai replied. Like everything else about her, her voice was carefully modulated and completely under her control. The words themselves could mean anything, from an actual 'thank you' to a bitter insult, the tone gave no clue. She continued to dress in the black-and-green garments, at once form-fitting and flowing. The thin upper layer needed to be wrapped around her and P'Mai did so slowly, carefully, every movement executed with the agility and precision of a dancer. The delicate fabric clung in several places to the underlayer to prevent it from sliding down, but otherwise it hung free. The contrast between the semi-transparant upper layer and the deeper green-golden-black undergarments gave the illusion of motion even when P'Mai was standing still, hinted at clouds above grassy plains, and the deeper green brought out the colour of her eyes, while the black elements echoed the dark severety of her hair. P'Mai finished her outfit by hanging one simple piece of jewelery around her neck: a golden chain from which a red stone hung, like a swelling drop of human blood. One last look in the mirror and P'Mai finally turned to regard the woman who had dared to enter these rooms. P'Mai's eyes were like mirrors: reflecting everything she saw while giving nothing back.

The point of Rochelle's tongue traced the sharp little ridges of her molars and a single eyebrow rose. P'mai was never going to be warm and friendly, but that suited the redhead's purposes all the better. By Romulan standards the raven haired woman was a beauty, but to Rochelle she was nothing more than a point to be made. She was no more alive than the cloth draping from her body or the stone glittering from its place against her throat. "Well.." She clapped her hands together, "At least you got part of the red right. I mean really, girlfriend... It's no wonder that the Senator never gave you children." She tutted with a sad little sigh and a full pout of her dewy lips. The tilt of Rochelle's head did little to disguise the bright twinkle of her eyes, though, and they spoke volumes. Vibrant and bright with a degree of amusement and something far more predatory, they remained fixated on her mark as the game truly began. "You know, if you actually listen you may get somewhere with him. It's not that hard really, unless you keep doing..." A single finger rose and fell along an imaginary line that spanned the length of the Romulan woman, "You," She practically spat, "When you could embrace all that is me. He likes that." She giggled, reaching to toy with an errant lock of copper. "But what do I know. I'm not the one he agreed to marry just to get a seat in the senate."

P'Mai had already turned away again, showing her back to the smaller woman. The message was clear: 'I don't need to keep my eye on you, nothing you can do can harm me'. "He gives me all I want, I give him all he needs," P'Mai said calmly. "What he does in his spare time is none of my concern, mirror." A not so subtle reminder that Tr'Bak only noticed Rochelle when he couldn't get to his main obsession: the other Rochelle, the one in the other universe, the one whose fate was entwined with his. This one, the one in P'Mai's room, was a substitute, a handy toy to amuse himself with. Never the real deal, no matter how hard this woman tried.

"Do you?" Rochelle's head canted immediately off to the other side. She knew she'd struck a nerve, there was blood in the water between them and she was the wretched little shark set to a slow circle. It was only a matter of time now before she grew bored with their little game - but the end seemed to be nowhere in sight... No where tangible. "Do you really give him all that he needs, because... Again I may know nothing... But he seems awfully impressed with Commodore Ivanova. That has to kill you, doesn't it? Being second fiddle to a human woman?" Her giggle rose again, ringing like bells against the room's heavy atmosphere of tension and hate.

Where Rochelle was fire, P'Mai was ice. "A human woman, but not you." She smiled a smile which made the vacuum of space seem warm. "I said I give him what he needs. This is not the same as what he wants. That is something you wish to give him, but you can't." While she was talking, she put the finishing touches to her appearance and looked around her. The rooms were cold, utilitarian, reflecting little of their owners. P'Mai permitted herself one more small smile.

"Oh sweetheart... If you only knew just how wrong you really were." The redhead flourished with a massive and dramatic shrug and a sigh before dismounting the table in a delicate little hop, "I have no desire to give him anything, really." And then she paused, chewing on her lower lip and resting a hand on her hip in thought, "Actually I take that back. There is one thing I want to give him so terribly badly and you see... You are kind of in my way when it comes to achieving that goal." Rochelle pouted and hummed with another dejected little sigh, "Unless you want to make his day and help me with that gift?"

"Do you think it will really be as easy as you think it is?" P'Mai asked, turning around slowly. "Do you think me to be a set'leth, to roll over and die at a command? Try me, pet."


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To Be Continued...
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Erei'Riov P'mai Tr'Bak
Sub-Commander
3rd Tal'Shiar Task Force
Romulan Star Empire
APB Sha'mer

Rochelle Ivanova (MU)
Privateer
Romulan Star Empire

 

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