“Very well,” Celesta said. “OPS! Calculate our optimum decel rate based on the position of the Amsterdam and the John Arden. Send it to the helm so that we can wrangle this mess into something resembling a military formation. This simply will not do as a first impression to our new friends.”

“Aye aye, ma’am.”

The ambassador representing the Terran Confederacy, or what was left of it, had insisted on flying aboard his own ship, the John Arden. The aging cruiser was named for an infamous diplomat who, depending on whose side of the story was to be believed, had managed to single-handedly broker a peace deal between New America and Britannia over a disputed world some one hundred and fifty years in the past. The New Americans revered him as a hero, while those in Britannia were told that Arden had drugged their representative during the talks to push an unfavorable deal upon them. The planet, called Aleeciana after Arden’s daughter, was still a point of contention between the two powerful enclaves.

John Arden’s namesake, the aforementioned cruiser that was well past her prime, had been causing issues the entire flight. Admiral Marcum had made it perfectly clear he had no intention of flying his flag on such a decrepit ship and elected to fly the Dreadnought-class battleship, Amsterdam, on the mission. Almost as an afterthought he had informed the Ninth Squadron, Seventh Fleet, that he would also like one of their Starwolf-class destroyers to fly escort, specifically the Icarus. Celesta wasn’t fooled. The Chief of Staff was bringing three of the fleet’s most powerful mainline ships along with the old consular ship and she had to assume he was savvy enough to understand the sort of impression that made. It would be akin to showing up to a new neighbor’s dinner invite heavily armed. He either didn’t care or was deliberately flying to the rendezvous with a heavy show of force.

“So what do you think these new aliens will look like, Captain?” Celesta’s executive officer asked quietly and for the fourth time since the convoy had departed the New Sierra Shipyards.

“As I told you, Commander, I wasn’t given clearance for that,” she said evenly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Commander Barrett said. “But you must have some opinion based on the information we’ve been given.”

“Commander, we will find out soon enough.” Celesta ended the conversation. “If you wouldn’t mind, prepare the Icarus for orbital insertion and try to reign in your curiosity until we’ve parked this convoy over the planet.”

“Of course, Captain,” Barrett said, moving away to the OPS Station. Celesta suppressed a smile at her XO’s enthusiasm for the upcoming encounter.