Star Trek: The Original series: Rihannsu: The Bloodwing Voyages : The Bloodwing Voyages
THE HISTORIC SAGA BEGINS
Born in the twilight years of Vulcan's violent and passionate past, those who declared themselves Rihannsu chose to reign free in the unknown reaches of space rather than to serve under the new tyranny of logic. Having severed themselves from their homeworld, they survived the perilous voyage across the stars to wash ashore on a distant planet, there to begin the civilization that would one day flower into the Romulan Star Empire.
Now, after millennia of wars and conquests, that empire is decaying from within, surrendering its noble heritage to reckless ambition, abandoning honor for kidnapping and murder. The corruption is so great that the Rihannsu's finest military officer -- Commander Ael t'Rllaillieu of the warbird Bloodwing -- believes she can save her people only by joining forces with her greatest enemy: Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise™.
Meanwhile, on the Romulan homeworld, a Federation deep-cover agent has been posing as a household servant named Arrhae i-Khellian -- but her operation takes a strange turn when a captured Starfleet officer is brought to her home . . .
The lives of Ael, Arrhae, and the crew of the Enterprise come together in these astonishing adventures -- originally published in four volumes: My Enemy, My Ally; The Romulan Way; Swordhunt; and Honor Blade -- that will challenge everything you thought you knew about the Romulans.
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Pocket Books/Star Trek
December 19, 2006
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Excerpt from Star Trek: The Original series: Rihannsu: The Bloodwing Voyages by Diane Duane
My Enemy, My Ally
Her name, to which various people had recently been appending curses, was Ael i-Mhiessan t'Rllaillieu. Her rank, in the common tongue, was khre'Riov: commander-general. Her serial number was a string of sixteen characters that by now she knew as well as she knew her fourth name, though they meant infinitely less to her. And considering these matters in such a fashion was at least marginally appropriate just now, for she was in a trap.
How long she would remain there, however, remained to be seen.
At the moment her patience was mostly intact, but her spirit had moved her to rattle the bars of the cage a bit. Ael propped her elbow on her desk, rested her chin on her hand, and said to her cabin's wall screen, "Hwaveyiir. Erein tr'Khaell."
The screen flicked on, and there was the bridge, and poor Ante-centurion tr'Khaell just as he had been twenty minutes ago, still hunched over and pretending to fiddle with his communications boards. At the sight of Ael he straightened quickly and said, "Ie, khre'Riov?"
Don't play the innocent with me, child, thought Ael. You should have had that dispatch decoded and translated ten minutes ago . . . as well you know. "Erein, eliukh hwio' 'ssuy llas-mene arredhaud'eitroi?"
She said it politely enough, but the still, low-lidded look she gave him was evidently making it plain to tr'Khaell that if Ael had to ask him again about what was holding up the dispatch's deciphering, it would go hard with him. Sweat broke out on tr'Khaell's forehead. "Ie, khre'Riov, sed ri-thlaha nei' yhreill-ien ssuriu mnerev dhaarhiin-emenorriul -- "