Chapter Text
Captain's Log
Stardate 53446.9
Commander t'Aimne pretty handily disabled the Breen frigate encountered en route. Without comms or propulsion, it's pretty likely they won't be sounding any alarms for a while. We towed it at full impulse power, and released it on a trajectory that will take it into Federation space. The starship Bozeman will be waiting to intercept it and take it into custody for towing to Starbase 510.
We're back on course for Epsilon, at warp eight. Ensign Low reports our ETA to be under seven hours.
Captain's Personal Log
Stardate 53446.91
I couldn't help myself and pulled up the pictures of the strip of beach that Mister Falcot transmitted before we embarked on our mission. There's room for that fishing pier I want, and the depth surrounding the beach drops off enough for that boat I inherited from my uncle. Falcot assures me that the oceans there are populated with enough fish to catch without worry. Of course, the real reason to fish isn't simply to catch anything. It's an excuse to enjoy the view with a cool drink at your side. And on Risa, it's possible to add a sexy woman to that mix.
As for the ship, this whole business of having a Romulan officer is going a little better with the others than it is with me. Even though I have to accept her being here on orders from Guardian Six, I don't have to like it. I thought Rick would be on my side about this whole affair but after the stunt she pulled on the bridge, she scored a lot of points with the bridge crew. I'll admit she's good, but as soon as this mission is over, she will be the next CO's problem, not mine.
"Now arriving at designated point Epsilon," called Rittian, looking down at his console and rereading the distance readouts once more. "Sensors not picking up any ships or bases in the area."
t'Aimne reported, from behind Grayum, "Confirmed."
"No surprise, there," said the captain. "Rittian, take us along the prearranged course. Warp two."
"Aye, sir. Engaging course Epsilon-variation-one at warp two." The helmsman entered in the commands to the ship's navigation system, watching the new trajectory appear on his display. The ship's nacelles powered up as they were supposed to and created the subspace field around the ship. "Warp two achieved. Estimated time of arrival at point Epsilon Two is fifteen minutes."
James ordered, "khre'Arrain, you may commence dropping your buoys."
"Understood, Lieutenant Commander." t'Aimne's console sounded as each buoy found its way from the aft torpedo tube into space. "Buoy alpha-one released. Cloaking device functioning within normal parameters. Telemetry is transmitting and being received."
Four more times, each course, until the Epsilon point was surrounded on all sides by cloaked sensor buoys, that would feed vital telemetry on the sector while Agamemnon hid some distance away at the fleet rendezvous point. Once the telemetry frequencies were transferred to the flagship of the task force, the Agamemnon would remain on station to act as a relay point in case reinforcements were required. If it was determined that the battle was going well, they would be relieved on station by another cruiser and sent back to Starbase 510 to stand down.
When the last buoy went online and began broadcasting what it saw, t'Aimne activated another command, and the sector lit up like a large floodlight had been aimed within the cube formed by the buoys. It was a tachyon net, to prevent cloaked vessels from passing through the sector undetected. The main viewscreen interpreted the tachyon net appropriately and increased sensor resolution on screen, making it appear as though the sector had been illuminated. Every cubic meter of the sector was accounted for, catalogued, and tracked by the ship's computer from the information provided. Once the sector showed activity by the Breen, the task force hidden at the rendezvous point would advance without warning on the Breen command center and the accompanying enemy fleet.
Grayum waited for t'Aimne to report that the grid was online and functioning before he turned back to Rittian, "Plot us a course for the rendezvous point, warp eight. Rick, stand ready to signal the fleet that the trap has been placed once we're safely out of detection range of the sector."
Rittian laid in the new course and took the ship away at high warp, reporting that it would take them twenty minutes to reach the point where they could safely transmit and await the main fleet. The captain acknowledged the helmsman, settling into the center seat as comfortably as possible.
The mission was all but over, now, barring any further obstacles. Hank Grayum felt a sense of pride in his ship and his crew, for pulling together and carrying out their duties above and beyond what he had generally come to expect. He began to think about who would replace him, once he earned that promotion to Captain and retired from Starfleet. Would they allow Rick to carry on as captain? He had the time in grade as a lieutenant commander and the outstanding service record with glowing recommendations. But was Border Patrol really what Rick wanted to do? He made an outstanding executive officer; he had come to rely on the man for a great deal more than he had with Halley. Halley was a good officer, but she needed more time to mature as a leader. She did well in engineering, but he had to admit that she did lack a great deal when she acted as his executive officer.
He made a mental note to write his recommendation for Rick to assume command as he watched the stars stretch by his ship. As much as he would like to believe that his name carried prestige with the Admiralty, his recommendation was only a part of the process in appointing a new commanding officer.
Once the ship entered the star system where the task force would arrive, his executive officer took care of the rest automatically. Grayum watched them work around him, stealing a glance at Rittian as he repositioned the ship to a standard orbit. He craned his neck around to look at Halley as she reported the status of repairs to Rick. t'Aimne remained at her position, vigilantly watching the sensors for any unusual activity. He did not say a word to interfere or encourage the duties of his bridge crew. Satisfied that he had burned the memory into his mind, he returned his gaze to the main viewscreen.
Commander Henry Grayum relaxed in his chair and enjoyed the view from the bridge of the Agamemnon.