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Commander T’Voras sat back in his chair—a chair built to Romulan specifications, the sole concession to pure comfort he had allowed himself since he had seized this rattletrap battle cruiser from its vermin-infested klivam crew. Taking control of a ship operated by those bumpy-headed savages had been far more challenging than today’s mission had proved to be so far. He savored the relative ease with which the ships constructed by the Romulan Star Empire’s Vulcan cousins evidently could be taken by remote means.

He knew he could scarcely imagine how greatly the Empire’s military would benefit from reverse engineering these highly advanced Vulcan starships. But he understood well enough just how much their acquisition would bolster his own career and the wealth and status of his family.

“Very good, Centurion,” T’Voras said, steepling his fingers before him in an effort to keep his thoughts focused and to ward off over-confidence. After all, if the Vulcans somehow managed to recover control over their communications equipment, they could both summon and receive assistance very quickly this deep inside Coalition territory. “Secure our prizes for towing back to Romulus. And make certain that the crews aboard both vessels are dead before we get under way. We don’t need any mishaps on the way home.”

“It will be done, Commander,” said T’Vak.

T’Voras decided then to allow himself one luxury in addition to his padded chair—a small, triumphant smile.

Early in the month of re’Ti’Khutai, Year of ShiKahr 8764

Tuesday, July 22, 2155

Vulcan Defense Directorate Vessel T’Jal, Near Alpha Centauri

The main bridge viewer abruptly succumbed to a wash of static, failing along with the main bridge lights. Despite the suddenly dimmed illumination, Captain Vanik could see the young subaltern’s eyes widen momentarily in an unaccustomed display of emotion.

He could hardly blame the young officer, of course, considering that circumstances—not to mention Vulcan’s commitment to defending her Coalition allies from alien attack—had just forced her to take part in firing upon Vulcan vessels that had been hijacked by an extraordinarily pernicious and lethal adversary.

“Our life-support functions have just shut down, Captain,” Subaltern T’Pelek said, recovering her equanimity as her training reasserted itself. “Along with the helm and the propulsion and tactical systems. I can access neither the backup systems nor the tertiary redundancies.”

It was a most vexing and logic-defying problem. Vanik had planned to solve it from a safe distance after the T’Jal’s sister ship, the Toth, had experienced an apparently identical shipwide systems failure only a few lirt’k earlier. Unfortunately, whatever effect had just immobilized both vessels had a far longer reach than Vanik had realized.

“Contact the rest of the task force,” Vanik said, swiveling his seat toward the comm station. Most of the task force had already gone to warp, bound for Vulcan, but they could be recalled very quickly to render aid.

“Captain, the communications grid is not responding either,” Communications Officer Voris said a moment later after checking his board. “The subspace bands are presently unavailable to us.”

“Another vessel has just appeared on the sensors,” Altern Stak reported from one of the forward science-monitoring stations that was apparently still functional. “It fits the profile of a Klingon battle cruiser.”

Another Klingon vessel, Vanik thought, not surprised to find that the threat that the T’Jal and the Toth had been dispatched to address still lurked nearby, like a hungry le-matya stalking the sunbaked plains of Vulcan’s Forge in search of prey.

“Why did we not detect this vessel earlier?” Vanik asked, his tone measured.

“It is difficult to tell, Captain,” said Stak, still staring into his hooded viewer. “The orbits of a number of dark, icy cometary bodies intersect this vicinity. Perhaps the Klingon vessel was concealed behind one of these bodies.”

And deployed its weapon against both us and the Toth from that place