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“The Romulans have not reacted to our presence yet. The nearest warp-detection nodes may be shielding us somewhat from sensor beams being aimed into the system from outside. I will take the Weytahn to warp briefly, drop back to sublight within weapons range, and then engage the hostile ship. I want the Yorktown and Challenger to head back in-system with part of my fleet to begin taking out the inbound fighter craft. The Romulans may have already spent most of their armaments partially blinding the defense grid, but I do not want to risk allowing even one of those fighter ships to reach Andoria with so much as a single warhead.”

Apprehension gnawed at Mayweather’s guts. Though he knew it wasn’t his place to question a general’s tactical plan, he couldn’t remain silent either.

“I’m not so sure that’s such a good plan, General.”

“Belay that, Ensign!” snapped Mendez.

Shran’s eyes narrowed and both of his antennae thrust forward aggressively. His deep blue pupils seemed to bore straight through to the back of Mayweather’s head, as though daring him to look away. Though he stayed silent as ordered, Mayweather nevertheless held at least some of his ground by not breaking eye contact.

“What do you mean, Pink—” Shran stopped himself, as though he had only now realized that not every human possessed pigmentation that could be even remotely described as “pink.” The notion gave Mayweather an almost irresistible urge to chuckle.

“I know you,” Shran said, his eyes widening in recognition. “You served as Archer’s helmsman, aboard Enterprise.”

After turning to take in the curt nods of both the captain and the exec, Mayweather resumed facing the screen. “Ensign Travis Mayweather, General. I’ve been... reassigned recently.”

A predator’s grin crossed Shran’s face. “It would seem that Archer’s loss is our gain, Ensign. When you pursue those Romulan fighter craft, their pilots will be hard pressed to evade you.”

Sensing that Shran’s recognition might have gained him a little additional leeway in terms of bridge decorum, Mayweather said, “With respect, General, the Yorktown should take the point against the Romulan mother ship.”

“Stand down right now, Ensign,” Mendez said, his voice pitched for Mayweather’s ears alone. “Or I’ll relieve you of duty.”

Once again silent, Mayweather turned in time to see Captain Shosetsu raise a hand. “Wait a minute, Commander. He has a point.” He rose from his chair and addressed Shran directly. “General, we have to assume that the Romulan carrier vessel out there is equipped with the remote-control hijacking weapon.”

Shran nodded. “Which is why we must strike with our best-armed ships, hard and fast, before they have the opportunity to deploy it.”

“Starfleet has upgraded Yorktown’s armaments, defenses, and propulsion systems quite a bit over the past few months, General,” said Shosetsu.

“Not nearly enough, I fear, Captain. The Imperial Guard reports that your technology is still somewhat... backward when compared to ours, generally speaking.”

“I’ll grant you that our food reconstitutors still can’t do justice to Andorian ales and citrus drinks,” Shosetsu said around a wry smile. “But ‘backward’ isn’t always a bad thing, General. Even your own engineers can’t dismiss the Cochrane Institute team’s findings about Earth technology in comparison to what the Romulans have.”

Shran’s antennae probed forward, suggesting either suspicion or curiosity, or perhaps a mixture of both. “Findings, Captain?”

“The ones that suggest that the more ‘backward’ a ship is, the less vulnerable it should be to having the Romulans seize it by remote control. That’s why I believe Mister Mayweather’s suggestion has some merit, General. The Yorktown should go after the mother ship.”

“We have made every command-and-control-system retrofit that the Cochrane team has recommended so far,” Shran said. “With these initial countermeasures in place, we should be no more vulnerable than you are.”

“Perhaps. But I’m sure you’re no more eager than I am to wager the safety