The bridge of the Yorktown was bustling with activity as Captain Jerok walked through the turbolift door towards the command chair. Jerok’s eyes scanned the room, taking note of the focused determination on each person’s face as they went about their job. The air throughout the ship was filled with excitement; it was palpable to the Romulan as he made his way to the command chair at the center of the bridge. When he finally reached the command chair, he settled in and took a deep breath, ready to give his crew an order he thought he’d never be forced to. An order he wasn’t sure he could spin in a way that they would unquestionably follow.

“Sir, all stations showing ready to return to Earth for Frontier Day,” Commander Branson reported to the captain as he took his seat. The Romulan nodded, acknowledging the report with his usual casual glance. 

“Unfortunately we’re going to be a bit delayed. I know you are all excited to get to Earth for the festivities, but we have some new orders. It appears that the USS Intrepid has been attacked,” Jerok calmly explained so as not to alarm the bridge crew.

“Attacked? By who?” Lieutenant Zemess nearly snapped his reply back at the end of a concerned breath.

Jerok sighed, “It appears this may have been an attack by another Starfleet vessel. The reports are scarce and it happened on the frontier of Federation space. But the vessel was tracked heading in our direction. We’ve been ordered to meet up with the Trumbull and Mestral to begin search operations.”

The silence on the bridge of the Yorktown was deafening, broken only by the ambient sound of the LCARS interfaces. It wasn’t very often that any member of Starfleet heard of one Starfleet vessel firing on another. Jerok knew that they all had the same question on their mind, but recognized the Romulan in him wouldn’t easily allow him to offer up the information unprompted. The entire bridge had halted its work and turned to him, waiting with bated breath for him to utter what they all wanted to know. Finally, someone asked. 

“What ship are we looking for?” Commander Sul queried.

The captain was slightly relieved someone finally asked, punching through the tension on the bridge, and it allowed him to circumvent years of conformity to Romulan culture. Looking straight towards the view screen Jerok responded, “We are to track the USS Titan.”

A few audible gasps could be heard. Jerok was even certain that he heard one from his own first officer. The Titan was a starship name with a heritage that rivaled that of even the Yorktown. It was a ship known throughout the fleet.

“Captain Shaw?” the Romulan finally heard his first officer ask in both confusion and concern.

The captain attempted to ease some concerns, “Starfleet Command believes that Captain Shaw may have been incapacitated and is no longer in command. There is reason to believe that the Titan has been hijacked by others not in command of the ship, and they’re headed for the core worlds for reasons unknown.”

Jerok knew more than that, he knew who the real perpetrators were suspected to be. But he also knew that he couldn’t and wouldn’t create a problem on his ship, on the Yorktown. The names William T. Riker and Jean-Luc Picard were two of the most well respected names in Starfleet history — hell, they were two of the most well known names among his own people, echoing throughout past Romulan halls of government. He wasn’t going to sully their name based on presumptions by Starfleet Command, nor was he going to potentially turn his own crew against him who may see fellow officers in need. Officers who were heroes to many of them when they were children. Officers who would read stories of their adventures on the Enterprise so many decades ago and inspired them to want to join Starfleet themselves. Jerok knew that this was as much a balancing game as it was anything else; a dangerous one, at that. If something really was wrong, he was more than willing to assist. But if the worst did happen, if a Federation starship was hijacked and is potentially on the loose, it needed to be stopped.

With the end of his curt explanation, the bridge crew seemed satisfied. The answer had worked. They had turned back to their stations and were preparing to chase the Titan. Jerok had assured them that they were chasing some type of terrorists or saboteurs. Not some of the most decorated heroes of the United Federation of Planets.

“All hands, yellow alert,” Commander Branson’s voice echoed throughout the ship. 

Jerok watched as the bridge lights dimmed slightly in the yellow hue. It was certainly odd that this was going on with the Titan meer weeks before Frontier Day. The celebration itself seemed to be amiss. ‘That many ships gathering in one place?’ many people had asked themselves. Not just at Earth, either. Many ships were being recalled to various worlds around the Federation for the celebration. And amidst all of this planning and execution for Frontier Day, the Titan, one of the most famous ship names in all of Starfleet, has been hijacked by two of the most decorated Starfleet officers in history?

And then there was the question of how Starfleet Command knew what it knew about what was going on onboard the Titan. Normally, Jerok wasn’t one to question orders or his superiors; another historically cultural hallmark of the Romulan people. But it was one that weighed on his mind since he had been given his orders. Nonetheless, the Yorktown did have orders…

“Helm set a course for Crepuscula, maximum warp. Hopefully, we can cut them off before they reach the core territories,” the captain sighed lightly. “Before any damage can be done.”

“Course laid in,” Ensign Thomas responded, his body half contorted in its seat back towards the captain waiting for the command. The bridge had fallen silent again. Jerok looked around, knowing his crew was up to the task as long as he kept them in the dark about what exactly was going on.

“Engage.”