“And he resents some politically connected usurper stealing his seat,” Celesta finished. “Well, Commander, you may inform Lee he can rest a bit easier knowing that I won’t be the one replacing him … but someone will be.” And with that she made her decision. She would do whatever she had to do to remain on the bridge of the Icarus even if someone else was brought in to take overall command of Ninth Squadron.

With the numbered fleets organizing back to their original states, mostly, she had no desire to leave Black Fleet and be assigned to Fourth Fleet, especially given the fragile political state the newly minted Federation found itself in while, against all odds, finding itself immediately on the brink of war. Now the real trick would be to find a way to get Admiral Marcum to see things her way. Deciding that sooner would be better than later, she pulled out her comlink and tried contacting Marcum’s office to make an appointment for a face-to-face.

Surprisingly, she was told that the admiral would not have time to see her in the foreseeable future and that all planned briefings for the next few days had been cancelled. She checked her messages and saw that she had received no new orders either telling her to remain aboard the New Sierra Platform or to report to the New York for orientation. She’d always enjoyed a direct line to the top levels of CENTCOM given her status after the Phage War, so she had to assume that she wasn’t the only one being given the runaround.

Her suspicions were somewhat confirmed when Admiral Pitt’s staff also informed her that the flag officer would be unavailable for the next few days. Just as she was about to try and see if one of the multiple comlink codes she had for Pike would go through, she had an incoming request from Accari.

“Go ahead, Ensign,” she said.

“Ma’am, I just received word from the Icarus … an Ushin formation has appeared in the system,” her OPS officer said. “From what Commander Barrett was able to gather, they weren’t invited. He told me that CENTCOM has been locking down communications to and from the other ships in orbit trying to keep a lid on it.”

“Where are you?” Celesta was moving against the rush of people all coming down to get a look at the Dreadnought-class ship.

“In billeting,” Accari said. “I can no longer raise the Icarus from my personal comlink either.”

“Stand by until I send word, but be ready to move,” Celesta said. “Don’t draw any attention to yourself, though. Just put on the uniform of the day, and when I tell you, move your ass with all due haste to where I tell you. Wright out.” She flipped through a couple of menus before selecting a code she thought looked most promising and tried to open a channel.