"Centurion," the Romulan greeted.
"Report."
"Yes, sir. The planet is low in all essential minerals, the local inhabitants are no more intelligent than common voles, and the terrain would take major overall before being useful. Strategically, the planet is hard to defend and will be an easy victory for the Federation."
The centurion nodded. "Advise Helm to plot and implement a course back to the homeworlds. Engage the cloak. Do not engage the enemy ship, I wish to bring this report back to the praetor alive and unharmed."
"Yes, sir. Glory to the Empire!"
Waving him outside, the centurion smiled after the door had closed. "Besides, young one, we don't want them to see our new weapons. Better to wait for there to be more of us them then the other way."