Traffic Control Center Sol never had a quiet day. Normally, the traffic controllers situated deep within Sol Station managed the delicate choreography of a thousand vessels arriving, departing and transiting within the Sol system. Today, the number was almost three times that. It was absolute chaos.

“SS Baton Rouge, adjust heading three three four, and slow to six thousand… SF Med Whisky Alpha, proceed two two four… Workbee Six Nine Four, hold at six four until SF Med passes,” ordered a traffic controller from his station. All around him, dozens of other controllers were doing the same with their areas of responsibility across the complex airspace of the inner Sol system. As he watched the vectors adjust, he looked over at his colleague. “This is madness!”

“It’s only going to get worse,” laughed his colleague. “Shelby wants every ship in the fleet here for her big day.”

“Doesn’t that seem a bit silly?”

“Yeah, you’d think we have better things to do with all these ships.”

“They could have at least let us park them out past Mars until the twelfth. I swear, I’ve lost half my vectors around Sol Station with this logjam of USS Something-or-Others parked right out front.” Over a hundred Starfleet vessels hung idle in close proximity to Sol Station, a longjam that turned the typically straightforward approach vectors for Sol Station into a complicated series of maneuvers to avoid ramming inbound and outbound ships in the bridge of a Galaxy or Inquiry.

“Yeah, I hear that’s at Shelby’s insistence too. Something about wanting them right here at Sol Station for the image as all the dignitaries arrive.”

“Then the least she could have done is deploy that fleet formation tech already,” the traffic controller laughed. “At least then I wouldn’t have to help a dimwit Pakled keep his port and starboard straight…”

The Officer of the Watch, a captain who looked as frazzled and annoyed as his subordinates, interrupted their discussion: “Hey, Lieutenant, I have SRTCC 001 looking for an immediate handoff, your sector.”

“Understood,” the traffic controller nodded as he looked down at his screen for the hand off. He couldn’t help but think the request was odd though. Sector Route Traffic Control Center 001 didn’t typically hand off directly to Sol Station TCC Approach. “Why no Jupiter Center first?”

“Starfleet vessel on active mission protocols, warp 9.99 at fifteen hundred AU.”

“That’s frickin fast,” the traffic controller observed. Typical inbound velocity was warp 5 or lower. Warp 9.99 at that distance meant they’d be on top of Earth in less than two minutes. “Ident?”

“USS Serenity.”

“Alright, I’ll get her on the horn,” the traffic controller confirmed. He swiftly pulled up the daily schedule. No flight plans or orders logged for the Serenity. But why would there be? Civilian captains usually followed protocol, but Starfleet captains loved to blast in like they owned the place. “Good morning Serenity,” he said as the line connected. “TCC Sol Approach. Adjust heading 010, slow to warp 5 at waypoint Jupiter Foxtrot.”

“010, warp 5 at Jupiter Foxtrot,” Lieutenant Selik acknowledged from the helm of the Serenity.

“Serenity, I don’t have a plan on file for you. Clarify destination?”

“Earth high orbit.”

Of course it wasn’t the Archives Annex or Jupiter Station. Of course it was another ship looking for a parking spot right in the midst of this traffic jam. “Serenity, we have a packed pattern,” warned the traffic controller. “Adjust to heading 040, warp 1, and slow to ten thousand at waypoint Mars Sierra. You’re number thirty two in line. Expect two to three hours.”

On board the bridge of the USS Serenity, Admiral Reyes watched the stars streak by as Lieutenant Selik communicated with Sol Station approach. “Ma’am, they’re saying two to three hours,” the flight controller reported.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Admiral Reyes countered with an aggravated tone. They’d spent the last nine days rushing from the Deneb Sector, and she was in no mood to wait a minute longer for answers. She approached the conn and reached over Lieutenant Selik to reopen the line. “Sol Approach, this is Fleet Admiral Allison Reyes, USS Serenity.”

The traffic controller rechecked the fleet manifest. USS Serenity, NCC-96138, Duderstadt class, presently assigned to the Fourth Fleet and operating out of Farpoint Station with no active commanding officer. The Fleet Admiral had probably just commandeered it so she could be in attendance for Frontier Day, he thought to himself. “Good morning admiral,” replied the traffic controller in his nicest tone. He dealt with Commanders and Captains all day long, but it was very rare to have a Fleet Admiral directly addressing him across the line. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I’m told we’ve got a two to three hour delay?”

“Affirmative sir,” the traffic controller acknowledged. “We have a full pattern in the lead up to Frontier Day.”

“We’re not here for Frontier Day,” Fleet Admiral Reyes replied firmly. “We are in the midst of an active investigation. Please provide priority diversion. We need high Earth orbit immediately.”

The traffic controller sighed. Of course they were, and of course she wanted an exception. Leave it to the flag officers to always have some holier-than-thou cause that disrupted the order of his carefully orchestrated pattern. But he also knew an order when he heard one. “Understood sir. Stand by,” he replied as he worked to figure out how to accommodate. “Serenity, skip Mars Sierra, adjust zero two two and slow to ten thousand at six four…”

Admiral Reyes stepped back to the command island to let Lieutenant Selik do his thing. 

A few moments later, the streaking stars slowed, and Earth appeared directly ahead. To port hung the massive superstructure of Sol Station, the largest orbital facility in all of Federation space, and all around, they could see well over a hundred Starfleet cruisers and capital ships. It was a gathering unlike anything Admiral Reyes had seen since the Battle of Cardassia. If only these ships could have been brought to bear in the Deneb Sector, the war with the Lost Fleet might have turned out quite differently.

“Wow, what a scene!” remarked Lieutenant Commander Eidran. “There’ve gotta be well over a hundred ships here already for the big day…” It would be a nice reprieve from the chaos of the crucible they’d just fought through to just kick back and enjoy the two hundred and fifty year celebration of the day that the Enterprise NX-01 embarked on its maiden voyage.

“Since when is a party worth more than border security?” grumbled Commander Lewis. This all looked mighty stupid to him. With so many ships recalled from across Federation space for Frontier Day, it meant their borders lay unprotected. “If anyone wants to invade Federation space, now’s the time.” 

“I mean,” pointed out Admiral Reyes. “Isn’t that exactly what happened?”

“Maybe Shelby just didn’t want to acknowledge the Lost Fleet’s arrival because it would have detracted from this bullshit?” laughed Commander Lewis.

“If only we could be that lucky,” Admiral Reyes replied as she cast her eyes towards the planet beneath them. “At least that would mean we’ve just lost ourselves to stupid.” She doubted it though. From that conversation with Commander Drake in the early days of the conflict to the disappearance of retired Rear Admiral Edir, Admiral Reyes sensed that something more sinister was afoot. But they were finally here over Earth, and now it was time to get some answers.