They were ushered into a secure briefing room that more resembled an arena and, as she’d expected, a dozen Parliament members as well as the President and his staff all entered from the other side. Once they were all seated, Admiral Pitt took to the lectern and began a dry, detailed briefing of the Ushin operation that had ended in disaster.

Little was brought to light that Celesta didn’t know about save for the fact that Jackson Wolfe had been the chief administrator of something called Project Prometheus and that it was responsible for a good portion of the cultural data they had on the Ushin and the Darshik, including the fact that the Darshik likely deified the Phage after their own run-in with that species. It was that very fact she had used when destroying the inert Super Alpha in a warning as equally dramatic as the one they’d received in the Xi’an System. At the Jacobson’s sensor data showing her Shrikes blowing up the Phage unit more than a few high-ranking officials and officers nodded in her direction or gave thumbs up of approval. One thing she saw that she hadn’t been aware of was the fact the Ushin ships in the system were immediately attacked by Darshik cruisers after the Icarus had transitioned out. It was glossed over quickly, but Celesta intended to find out what the analysts thought about that interesting aftereffect.

Once Pitt concluded his overview there were a few other presenters, including Wolfe himself, to give a bit more detail as to the nature of the fight they found themselves in. Despite the matter-of-fact presentation, Celesta couldn’t help but feel like she was watching a performance. Something was … off … and she couldn’t put her finger on it. She made a mental note to speak to Wolfe about it after it was over if she could get him alone.

“That concludes the joint session of this briefing. We’ll now be dividing into subgroups based on areas of responsibility and specializations to begin further breaking down the Darshik problem,” Admiral Marcum said five long hours after the brief had started. Celesta saw someone walk quickly over to the President and whisper in his ear, and it took her a moment to realize that it was Pike, dressed as his alter ego Aston Lynch. The President’s eyes widened and he visibly paled, looking shaky as he rose from his seat.

“Mr. President?” Marcum interrupted his own comments as the Chief Executive walked slowly up to him and pulled him aside. The admiral’s reaction to whatever was said mirrored President Wellington’s and he nodded, stepping back.