The Arrival of D'Imus, the Alemaster

The Romulan had arrived in the early afternoon on a cargo freighter, bringing with him many cases of his wares. For the time being, his ale resided in the Cargo Bay. He wore civilian garb, a plain grey silk tunic and trousers. It was his prerogative to remain inconspicuous. He was, after all, just a merchant.

It was with great pleasure that Tal'Ara made her way to the docking bay to greet D'Imus, the Alemaster. He was a very old friend and mentor to her, and it had been a while since they had seen each other.

And there he was. Tall, lean, and as handsome as ever. Even though he was in his late 80s, he still had a youthful energy about him.

Tal'Ara's face lit up.

"D'Imus. It is wonderful to see you."

She extended her arms and hugged him, slightly embarrassed of the unflattering Starfleet uniform she was trapped in.

"Tal'Ara!" he exclaimed, encircling her waist warmly. "I scarcely even recognized you. They have you wearing their uniform. And they say we're the cruel ones. I understand you have so much to show me on the station, and I have a gorgeous pale ale to share with you."

"I can hardly wait," she said.

She traced her fingers up his hard chest and giggled in an almost girlish way.

"Would you like to see the station first? Or would you prefer to settle in a bit?"

"Show me this terrible heap they've assigned you to-- I can already tell you're too good for this place."

"Yes, Sir," she said, with a smile.

He was no longer a member of the Tal Shiar, and had long sense not been her superior, but it was an old formality, and she felt comfortable talking to him that way.

She lead him out of the docking bay for a tour of this sad excuse for a space station.