The centurions at the door did not move so much as a muscle as Valak approached, nor did they acknowledge his presence in any way. He did not speak to them or even look at them. They might as well have been statues. If Valak had no business being there, of course he would have had no hope of trying to get past them. Romulan security was strict, and protocol was complicated and explicit. He outranked them both, but they would have challenged him if they had not been instructed to expect him. And Valak would have known better than to try to see the Praetor of the Romulan Empire without a formal summons.

He did not bother to knock on the door but simply went inside. He had been commanded to appear before the Praetor at precisely this time, and he arrived not one moment early and not one second late. And that was as it should have been. In human society it was considered polite to knock before entering. Humans had such curious social customs, Valak often thought. It amused him to study them, but at the same time he took his research very seriously. He had made an exhaustive study of human cultures, especially of Starfleet personnel, protocol, strategy, and regulations. He was a warrior, and he believed it was part of a warrior's duty to know his enemy.

Many Romulans assumed their superiority to humans as a matter of course and dismissed humans as insignificant, but Valak believed it was important to know how the humans lived and how they thought. He often told his crew that no warrior, racial superiority notwithstanding, should ever take anything for granted. Even a superior intellect could make mistakes, and an inferior one could get lucky. Valak brought a hunter's sensibility to his military duties. He had grown up in the outer provinces of the Romulan Empire on one of the recently colonized worlds, a primitive planet that was still in the beginning stages of development. There had been no civilized indigenous culture to defeat and subjugate, but there were plenty of large, wild, and highly dangerous life-forms that were not at all impressed with the inherent superiority of Romulans.

Valak had learned to hunt almost as soon as he had learned to walk, and his father had instilled in him a hunter's respect for his prey. Valak's father still held to many of the old values and the old ways of Romulan culture, which were now considered outmoded on the civilized worlds of the empire. The old ways were mystical and profoundly philosophical. In some ways the old Romulan traditions were similar to the Vulcan belief systems, which was not surprising, for they sprang from common racial and cultural roots.

In an almost literal sense, Valak regarded humans as prey. In that, he was completely in line with Romulan thinking. He departed from it, however, in his respect for humans, and that made him something of an anomaly in Romulan culture. Most Romulans considered humans weak and decadent, an inferior species that would inevitably be subject to Romulan authority. Valak was not so sure.

He had studied humans, and concluded that they were simply different. They subscribed to a system of morality and social structure that was beyond the understanding of most Romulans because most Romulans did not make an effort to understand them. Valak had made that effort and through long and exhaustive studies of their history, their writings, and their social customs, had come to respect their culture and their way of thinking in the same way a hunter might respect the natural behavior of his prey.

He had even written several papers on the subject, which had won the approval of Romulan scholars, but his fellow officers considered his interest in humans a puzzling eccentricity. Early in his career, he was not taken seriously. However, though he was still young, and had only recently been promoted to command rank, his record spoke for itself. His summons to the presence of the Praetor was dramatic evidence of that.

He could think of only two reasons why the Praetor would wish to see him personally: either he had made some grave error that was cause for serious disciplinary measures -- and he knew that was not the case -- or his service record and qualifications had brought him to the notice of the Praetor. He was anxious to discover just what that reason was.

He stopped the required distance from the Praetor's command throne and waited, his posture erect yet relaxed, taking the formal stance of the Romulan warrior -- legs slightly spread apart, back straight, shoulders squared, looking straight ahead, arms crossed in front of him at about belt level, right hand gripping left wrist.

The command throne was turned away from him, its high back obscuring the Praetor from Valak's sight. The throne faced a giant screen on which the face of a senior member of the Romulan High Council was visible. A conference was in progress, but Valak could not hear what was being said, which meant the Praetor was communicating over his remote security channel on a scrambled frequency. A moment later the face on the screen disappeared, and then the screen itself disappeared, quickly fading from black to opaque to transparent and becoming a floor-to-ceiling window looking out over the sprawling capital.

Without a sound the throne slowly swiveled around to face Valak, revealing the Praetor, his forearms resting lightly on the arms of his command throne, which had small consoles built into them. The secure channel comm set partly obscured the Praetor's face. The set consisted of a small metal arm containing the shielded mouthpiece and transmitter, which were attached to a headset receiver. As the throne came around to face Valak, the entire comm set assembly swung away from the Praetor's face, swiveling around its pivot and retracting into a panel in the back of the command throne.

"Commander Valak," the Praetor said. He made no mention of Valak's promptness -- that was to be expected. Valak uncrossed his arms, allowing the left one to hang straight at his side while with the right he gave the Romulan salute, fist thumping the left side of the chest. The Praetor did not return the salute, which was simply his due and required no acknowledgment on his part. However, he did incline his head slightly, which surprised Valak and pleased him enormously. It was a small thing, perhaps, but it constituted a gesture of respect.

"I am deeply honored, my lord," said Valak. The Praetor was addressed not by his title, but by the honorific befitting his caste and rank.

As a young warrior, Lord Darok had achieved a record of military victories that remained unsurpassed. He had not traded on his high-caste birth to gain rank, but had chosen the warrior's way and achieved his current position purely on merit. He was no longer young and had not held a field command in years, but age had not diminished his powers to any visible extent. His face was lined, and his hair white, but the features were still strong and full of character, his eyes still clear, their gaze forceful. There was no trace of hesitation in his speech, and his posture was still that of the warrior he had been. Everything about Darok bespoke a shrewd alertness and, standing in his presence, Valak could feel his power. It was the first time they had ever met face to face, and Valak was impressed. This was a Romulan indeed!

There was no chair for Valak to sit on, and this, too, was to be expected. One did not sit in the presence of the Praetor. Valak simply stood and waited while Lord Darok gave him a long, appraising look. For what seemed like a long time, Darok did not speak, but merely gazed at Valak, as if measuring his worth. Valak calmly returned his gaze. Finally Lord Darok nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw.

"You are no doubt curious as to why I sent for you, Commander," Darok said.

Valak made no reply. It was a statement rather than a question, and no reply was called for.

"You have been selected for a special mission," Darok continued. "A mission for which you are uniquely qualified. Your record of command, though relatively brief, speaks for itself, but that alone does not qualify you for the mission the council has in mind."

Valak's pulse quickened. A mission ordered by the high council itself had to be of great importance. Being chosen for such a mission was not only an honor but a tremendous opportunity as well.

"You are something of a scholar, I understand," said Darok, "with an expertise in human culture. In particular, you have made a study of Starfleet Command, its history, regulations, procedures, ordnance, and personnel. I am told the papers you presented on the subject before the Romulan Academy were very favorably received and regarded as models of scholarly research. I realize there are those who regard such academic pursuits as irrelevent preoccupations in a warrior of the empire. I, however, am not one of them. A warrior who has many interests is a warrior whose mind will always stay alert and sharp." He paused briefly. "You were born and raised on Abraxas Nine, were you not?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Have you ever hunted the syrinx?"

"Yes, my lord. I have taken three."

Darok raised his eyebrows. "Three? That is, indeed, an achievement. I have succeeded in taking only one myself, and that nearly at the cost of my own life. The syrinx is a most elusive and dangerous prey. To what do you attribute your success?"

"In part, my lord, to the training I was given by my father, who taught me the way of the hunter," Valak said. "Also, to having been born and raised on Abraxas Nine. As a native, I had the advantage of knowing more about the habitat and behavior of the syrinx than those who came from off-world to hunt the creature for sport."

Darok smiled faintly. "A most diplomatic answer," he said. "However, it would be closer to the truth to say that you had made a thorough study of the behavior of the syrinx in preparation for your hunt, is that not so?"

"That is true, my lord. I was taught that proper preparation is a vital part of a successful hunt. My father believed a hunter must respect his prey, and that to respect it, he must know and understand it."

Darok nodded. "My father, too, believed in the old ways. Sadly, we have strayed from many of them in our march to progress and conquest. I was still young when I visited Abraxas Nine, and I sought merely a trophy and the excitement of the hunt. In my eagerness, and in the arrogant self-confidence of youth, I had failed to properly prepare myself. It was a mistake I was never to repeat. Early training as a hunter can be of great benefit to a warrior. Hunting teaches care, patience, and respect for one's quarry. I have read the papers you presented before the Romulan Academy. You seek to understand the humans, and you obviously respect them. Do you not consider them an inferior race?"

"With all due respect, my lord, I did not consider the question of inferiority relevant to my studies," Valak replied. "A scholar must strive for objectivity in order to gain true understanding of his subject."

"Once again you play the diplomat," said Darok. "You reply without answering the question."

"It is a question that defies a simple answer, my lord," Valak replied.

"I do not insist upon a simple answer," Darok said, sounding slightly annoyed, "merely an enlightening one."

"Then I shall do my best, my lord," said Valak. "Physically humans are inferior to us. We Romulans are stronger, our reflexes are quicker, our senses sharper, and our constitutions more resistant to disease. However, humans are clever, and they have found ways to overcome their shortcomings through training and technology. For example, I have studied their fighting arts, which are varied and many, and have found that, once mastered, they are at the very least equal to and in some cases even superior to the best training that we give our own warriors."

Darok raised his eyebrows. "Indeed?"

"My lord, you asked for my opinion, and I give it honestly."

Darok nodded. "Very well. Continue."

"Then there is the question of their morality and their philosophy," said Valak. "Most Romulans believe that human morality makes a virtue out of weakness, and that human philosophical beliefs are decadent and pointless. However, the fact is that their morality is often complex. It varies with their different cultures, as does their philosophy. We Romulans possess a greater unity of culture and cohesiveness of beliefs, but that does not make humans inferior to us. It merely makes them different from us, and there are some humans who would find our ways quite appealing and agreeable."

"Humans who think like Romulans?" Darok frowned. "I did not think such a thing was possible."

"Nevertheless, my lord, it is so," Valak said. "Not surprisingly, perhaps, such humans often find themselves at odds with their fellow men. Shall I continue?"

"By all means. This is most interesting."

"Their scientific knowledge is in some ways inferior to ours. They do not, for example, possess the technology to produce a cloaking device. However, their ships and weapons are equal to ours in most other respects, and in some ways they are unquestionably superior. Their computers, for example, are marvels of sophisticated engineering and possess many advantages over ours. I could go on, but I do not wish to bore you with a tedious recitation. The point is that whether or not the humans are an inferior race depends upon how one defines 'inferiority.' The syrinx makes for an excellent analogy. I am smarter than the syrinx, and I can arm myself with weapons, while the syrinx cannot. Yet if I were to assume that these advantages would give me easy victory over the syrinx, then at best, I would have a disappointing hunt. And at worst, I would not survive it."

Darok nodded. "I am satisfied that I have chosen well in selecting you for this mission, Commander Valak. I believe that it will present a great opportunity, both for you and for the Romulan Empire. However, due to the mission's confidential nature, you will receive your orders and be fully briefed only after you are aboard your ship and under way. You will depart immediately. An escort has already been summoned."

"Forgive me, my lord," Valak said anxiously, "but I fear I must point out that my ship is not yet ready for active service. It is still being refitted, and the work will take at the very least four or five days, even if the engineers work without rest."

"You are being given a new ship," said Lord Darok. "You will assume command of the warbird Syrinx." He smiled at Valak's reaction. "I thought you would find the name appropriate. I chose it myself, just now. The Syrinx is the first of the new D'Kazanak class. Your crew is being transferred even as we speak."

A D'Kazanak-class warbird! Valak could scarcely conceal his excitement. His back stiffened with pride. This was a tremendous honor, especially for so young a commander. He had heard rumors about the new warbirds, but virtually nothing had been confirmed about the D'Kazanak class save for its existence. No one he knew had ever even seen one. The security measures surrounding the new design were so rigid that no one who had worked on it dared breathe a word about it, under penalty of death. No one even knew where the ships were being constructed.

Like all Romulan warbirds, and most Federation-class designs, the ship would have had to have been built in orbit. Rumor had it that the prototype of the new design had been constructed in secret in orbit above one of the remote colony worlds and that it represented a new age in Romulan warbird design. It was said to be larger, faster, and more heavily armed than the current D'Deridex-class warbirds. The D'Kazanaks were being specifically designed to compete with the new Federation Galaxy-class starships. However, in the absence of specific information, wild speculation about the nature of its superiority was rampant.

The Galaxy-class Federation starships had an advantage in speed over the D'Deridex-class warbirds: they were capable of sustained cruising at warp 9.6, which was 1,909 times the speed of light. Under extreme emergency conditions, their warp engines could be overstressed to achieve warp 9.9, though they could do so for only a few minutes before the dilithium crystals used to tune the harmonics of the anti-matter reaction shattered. No matter-antimatter reactor, no matter how efficient, could drive engines to attain or exceed warp 10, which was the absolute speed limit of the universe. According to the relativy equations of the great Earth scientist, Einstein, a ship traveling at that speed would have to possess infinite mass, which was clearly impossible. However, within the physical limitations of the universe, the Federation Galaxy-class vessels were as efficient and powerful as a starship could be. The Romulan warbirds were almost as powerful and efficient, but the Federation starships always had an edge... until now.

The D'Kazanak-class design, it was said, could match the efficiency of the Federation warp drives. There were also rumors about a new generation cloaking device that could eliminate the "ghosting effect" which sometimes rendered a cloaked ship visible to Federation scanners. There was also talk about more powerful photon disruptors. Some rumors even hinted at the possibility that these weapons could be employed while the cloaking device was engaged, something the D'Deridex-class warbirds had been unable to do. This had always been the single greatest limitation of the cloaking device, and Romulan engineers had labored for decades to find a way to overcome it. Had they succeeded at last? Valak would soon know.

As he left the Praetor's chambers and marched down the wide and crowded corridor with an escort before and behind him, his heart raced with excitement. They moved quickly, at a martial step, and everyone hastened to get out of their way. Lord Darok had done more than merely provide an escort. He had summoned an honor guard of Praetorians, the elite of the Romulan warrior class. In their crested helmets and black anodized battle armor, they made an impressive sight as they marched in perfect synchrony down the corridor, their bootheels echoing as one. Everyone they passed turned to stare at them as they went by. The more observant noted the new, neverbefore-seen insignia Valak wore over his breast -- a badge in the shape of a shield, bearing the image of twin black lightning bolts against a white background and the stylized red letters spelling out "D'Kazanak." Lord Darok himself had pinned the insignia on, and Valak wore it proudly.

The guards conducted him to a transport and boarded it with him. They skimmed out to the shuttle launch pad, where the guard formed up by the hatch and saluted smartly as Valak boarded the shuttle. Moments later the craft was airborne, gathering speed until it reached escape velocity.

Valak sat in the copilot's chair, staring out the viewport as the pilot flew the shuttle toward the point where Valak's next command awaited him. They passed the space station orbital control base above the capital and flew on, escaping orbit after being cleared and heading out into the blackness of space. Nothing was visible ahead of them. Valak glanced at the pilot briefly, and saw that he was intent on his instruments. How far out was the Syrinx? They would soon reach the point beyond which the shuttle could not safely turn back; there would not be enough fuel.

The pilot saw Valak's questioning stare and said, "The shuttle will not be returning, Commander. It has been my honor and privilege to be assigned permanently to your crew. Forgive my failure to formally present myself for orders, but there was no opportunity to follow proper protocol."

Valak nodded. "What is your name, Centurion?"

"Atalan, Commander."

"And what was your previous station?"

"I had the honor to serve as pilot and navigator aboard the warbird Kazar."

Valak nodded once more. "Commander Gorak's ship. I know it well. However, I already have a pilot and navigator, and cannot offer you the same post."

"I am aware of that, Commander," Atalan replied. "I had requested the honor of being assigned to your crew in whatever capacity I could serve in. I have been assigned to your engineering section, as second engineering officer."

Valak raised his eyebrows. "That constitutes a demotion from your previous station," he said, with some surprise.

"Yes, Commander. However, the privilege of serving under your command aboard the first D'Kazanak-class warbird will more than compensate for that."

Valak nodded with approval. He glanced at the instruments. "We are reaching the limit of our fuel supply. Are you certain you have computed the correct course?"

"Quite certain, Commander," Atalan replied. "With your permission I shall hail the Syrinx now."

"Permission granted."

"Base shuttle to Syrinx," Atalan said, speaking into the transmitter arm on his helmet. "Base shuttle to Syrinx. I have Commander Valak on board. Request permission to dock."

The reply came back, "Permission granted." And suddenly the black space ahead of them in the viewport seemed to shimmer and the D'Kazanak-class warbird Syrinx faded into view as it decloaked.

Valak's eyes grew wide and he swore softly, invoking the gods of his forefathers. The ship was huge, almost twice the size of the D'Deridex-class warbirds, and the lines of its design possessed a predatory magnificence that was awesome to behold. But what took his breath away was the way it had uncloaked.

There had been absolutely no hint of its presence before them. The cloaking device used on the D'Deridex-class warbirds rendered the ships completely invisible, but an experienced eye, especially that of a Romulan ship's captain, could detect certain telltale signs of its presence -- very minor spatial fluctuations in close-range scanner readings, which would be unnoticed by all but the most experienced scanner operators, and a slight distortion in space, a sort of faint visual echo that constituted a barely perceptible ghost image of the ship, undetectable at long range and difficult to detect even at close range. With the Syrinx, however, there had been no trace of ghosting. The ship had suddenly appeared as if from nowhere; there had been no sign of its presence whatsoever. The rumors were true. There was a new generation cloaking device, and Valak had just witnessed dramatic evidence of its effectiveness. Not even the most experienced Federation starship captains would be able to detect it.

The shuttle entered the docking bay, and the hatch closed behind it. Moments later Valak exited the shuttle as the shrill tritone of the watch pipes heralded his arrival. The crew marched out in dress formation into the docking area and formed in parade phalanx before the shuttle. His bridge crew came marching out to meet him in wedge formation, led by his first officer, with the rest of the senior officers formed up behind him in descending order -- the pilot and navigator behind the first officer and to the left, the chief weapons officer behind the first officer and to the right, followed by the communications and engineering officers, the security and science officers, the medical and tactics officers, and so on. They came to a smart halt in front of the shuttle hatch and snapped to as one, giving him the Romulan salute.

"Welcome aboard, Commander," said his first officer, Korak, with obvious pride. "The D'Kazanak-class warbird Syrinx is yours. The crew stands ready for your orders."

Valak stood in the shuttle hatchway gazing out at his crew. They were as fine a body of warriors as any ship's commander could hope for. Most of them had served with him aboard his old ship, but he saw some new additions. He would have to check their service records at once and meet with all of them, but he was confident that only the cream of the Romulan space fleet had been assigned to duty aboard the Syrinx. Lord Darok would have seen to that.

There was much to do. He would have to familiarize himself thoroughly with the workings of his new ship, run tests and diagnostics on all its systems; he was sure the chief design engineers had already done so, but a good commander always made sure of everything himself. He had a mission before him, and he would have to conduct his own shakedown cruise while en route to that mission, whatever it was, so there was no time to waste. All of the members of his crew knew they would be working around the clock until Valak and all the rest of them were so intimately familiar with their new ship that it would seem almost like a part of them.

Valak noticed a figure approaching from the entrance to the docking area. He was young and did not march like a warrior, but walked in a casual manner that Valak would never have tolerated in a member of his crew. He was not wearing a uniform, either, but a black tunic and breeches, unadorned by any decorations or insignia of rank or caste. A civilian. Valak frowned. What was a civilian doing aboard his ship? Had Lord Darok saddled him with some glorified bureaucrat representing the Romulan High Council?

"Allow me the honor to welcome you aboard my ship, Commander," the civilian said as he approached.

Valak gazed at him coldly. "Your ship?"

The civilian bowed respectfully. "My apologies. It is, of course, your ship to command. I had fallen into the habit of referring to it as mine, as I was the one who designed it. I am Lord Kazanak."

Valak was taken aback. "Forgive me. Perhaps I did not hear you correctly. Did you say... Lord Kazanak?"

"That is correct, Commander."

Valak assumed the formal stance and, as Lord Kazanak was a civilian and not a warrior, gave him the proper respectful bow from the waist rather than the Romulan salute.

"If my lord will permit a question?" Valak said, using the deferential form of address required by Lord Kazanak's high caste.

"Ask," Lord Kazanak replied.

Valak inclined his head toward him. "I was under the impression, my lord, that the D'Kazanak design was named after Lord Kazanak, who presides over the high council. Have I the honor of addressing his son?"

"The president of the high council is my esteemed father," Kazanak replied. "I have the honor of bearing the family name and title, for which I have named this ship's design. Because it is the crowning achievement of my life's work, I have asked the high council to allow me to go along on this mission so that I can familiarize you with this ship and its improvements. I shall also evaluate its performance."

Valak tried to hide his disappointment and maintained a carefully neutral expression as he said, "I see. Am I to understand, then, that the purpose of this secret mission is merely to test the capabilities of this ship and submit formal evaluations to the high council?"

Kazanak smiled. "In part, Commander, only in part. As this mission has been conceived and planned by the council under the authority of my esteemed father and Lord Darok, I have been entrusted with the task of briefing you as to its purpose. However, rest assured that I shall act only in an advisory capacity regarding this ship's design and capabilities. As to the mission itself, I am prepared to brief you fully, at your convenience and discretion."

Valak nodded. "Very well. We shall see to that at once, then, in my quarters, if you will be so kind as to show me the way." He turned to his first officer. "Dismiss the ship's company, Korak," he said. "Make ready to get under way."