Edra walked into the Ready Room.  If Henry and the rest of the Away Team weren’t already on the planet’s surface, they would be on the Transporter pad, ready to beam down.  She was not excited about their role in this ceremony.  The details didn’t add up.

 

“First Officer’s Log, Stardate 11003.25:

 

“The Captain is beaming down with the away team to the surface of Firste to facilitate the planet becoming a member of the Federation.  I…have my doubts about our role in this and the reason for the mission in general.

 

“Signing new planets into the Federation is usually an Admiral’s prerogative, and done with more fanfare than just a drive-by.  So where are Starfleet’s elites?  Where’s the pomp and circumstance?

 

“And why have we even been given this assignment?  The Mercutio is not a flagship, nor is it a high-profile ship. In fact, I’m well aware that we’re on some admirals’ shit list.  

 

“Add to that, the fact that maybe half the population is in favor of joining; well below the normal threshold for acceptance.  I’m worried that we’re being set up by those at or near the top.  I’m worried they’ve given us an assignment we can’t be excited about, and is sure to fail.  I’m also worried Brass hasn’t considered what the opposition could be capable of.  

 

“I try not to think about if they have…”

 

Edra paused, deep in troubled thought.  After a few minutes though, she sighed.  “Computer, delete log.”