Past days

[Spectre]

"Acknowledged. Engines, bound. Proceed with docking protocols."

The gunboat proceeded forth, the ship disappearing, bending and twisting through the anomalous wormhole to it's exit point in Coronado. There she turned on a dime, her escorts popping out soon after and forming up, and took up a stand near the rest of the ships lined up for the summit.

"This is Vice Admiral Michelle Collins of the Liberty Naval Third Fleet. Officers, gentlemen. We'll await the time when we'll start."

Turner Joy sat still in the void of space around Baja, weapons offline, no danger detected no expected.
The hope was it would stay that way.