“What about the star itself?” Geary asked. “What’ll be the effect on Lakota?”
“That’s impossible to determine without knowing how much energy will hit it, sir.” The watch-stander shook his head. “If it’s nova-scale, the star will be really messed up, but then no one will be left around here to care. Anything less than that, it’s just too hard to estimate. Stars have incredibly complex internal reactions going on constantly. They’re remarkably self-regulating, but even the most stable star has some variability in output. If I had to guess, I’d say that if this energy burst we’re expecting is at all significant, it will cause enough problems inside the star Lakota’s photosphere to make it experience more variability at shorter intervals.”
“So even if the habitable world remains able to support life, the star Lakota may render it uninhabitable in the near future.”
“Yes, sir. I can’t say that will happen, but I’d regard it as a probable outcome.”
Desjani frowned and checked her display. “That world is almost five light-hours from the hypernet gate and two and a quarter light-hours from this fleet. If we sent a warning message, they would get it in time to at least order people into shelter, though that’s unlikely to matter to those on the side of the planet that gets hit.”
The woman warrior who had once expressed regret that null-field weapons couldn’t be used against enemy planets was now willing to warn enemy civilians. “Thank you for thinking of that,” Geary told her.
“We need survivors, sir. People who can tell other Syndics that the Alliance fleet didn’t do this.”
Desjani was just being pragmatic, then. Or justifying her actions on pragmatic grounds. He wondered which it was. Geary’s eyes strayed back to the display of Lakota Star System. He looked at the data for the main inhabited world, at the representations of colonies on other worlds or moons, at the orbital facilities and the civilian space traffic that hadn’t yet reached a place where the crews could take refuge if the Alliance fleet sent warships after them. And at the clusters of small symbols that marked escape pods from Syndic warships and repair ships fleeing for safety. Hundreds, probably thousands of Syndic personnel in those escape pods, but Geary didn’t want an estimate of their numbers. They wouldn’t stand a chance if the energy discharge from the collapsing gate had any power at all, and there was nothing he could do about it. “I need a broadcast to the entire star system.”
How do you tell so many people that death may already be on its way? Geary tried to speak calmly, but knew his voice sounded bleak. “People of Lakota Star System, the Syndicate Worlds’ warships at your hypernet gate have opened fire on it to prevent its use by the Alliance fleet. By the time you receive this message, the hypernet gate will certainly have collapsed. When it does so, a burst of energy will be released, a burst which could be powerful enough to wipe out all life in this star system. If we’re fortunate, the energy burst will be much weaker than that, but it could easily be extremely dangerous to all human lives, ships, and installations in this star system. I urge you to take all possible measures in the very short time available to protect yourselves.”
Geary paused, then spoke slowly. “I don’t know how many of the humans in this star system will survive this. May the living stars watch over all here, and may their ancestors welcome all who die this day. To the honor of our ancestors, this is Captain John Geary, commander of the Alliance fleet.”
The silence afterward was broken by Victoria Rione. “They were already anticipating bombardment by us and taking shelter. Maybe that will help.”
“Maybe. It’s not going to help all of those Syndics in escape pods.” It only took the briefest look at the display to confirm that the Syndic escape pods were all too far distant for any Alliance ships to reach in time. “Unless the energy discharge is almost nothing, they won’t stand a chance.”
“Thank the living stars we already got all of ours recovered,” Desjani murmured.
“Two minutes to turn, Captain,” the maneuvering watch advised.
The initial moves to speed away from the Syndic hypernet gate’s location had taken place ship by ship as Geary’s order reached them, the farthest ships turning last. But the next maneuver was based on the time Geary had sent the first order, and so exactly fifteen minutes after Geary’s message, the Alliance fleet turned as one, ship after ship swinging its bows to face the place where the Syndic hypernet gate still appeared intact but wavering as its tethers were blown away by the Syndic guard force. But the light showing that was over two and a half hours old, an image from the past. For well over two hours that gate had been gone, replaced by a discharge of energy of unknown intensity. The Alliance ships were facing the source of the energy burst with their heaviest shields and armor, and still heading away from it stern-first at close to point one light speed, which would reduce the force of the impact. “Forward shields at maximum strength,” the combat-systems watch reported to Captain Desjani. “All compartments sealed, crew braced for damage, repair capabilities at highest readiness levels.”
“Very well.” Desjani bent her head for a moment, her eyes closed, her lips moving silently.
A prayer right now was a good idea, Geary reflected. He also took a moment to say a few words noiselessly, pleading with the living stars to preserve this fleet and its crews, and with his ancestors for whatever aid they could provide.
“Standing by for earliest assessed possible impact time,” another watch-stander announced. “Three … two … one … mark.”
The moment passed without any change, the image of the distant hypernet gate still there, still fluctuating as the tethers holding the energy matrix in place were destroyed one by one. It had been absurd to think that Cresida’s earliest estimate would be accurate to the second, but it was human nature to lock on to that time as critical.
Another minute went by, everyone on the bridge of Dauntless staring at their displays as if they would somehow provide advance warning, when in fact the wave front would hit at the speed of light, providing no notice before it struck.
Geary stared at the distant image of the hypernet gate, the fluctuations in energy levels inside it obvious to the fleet’s sensors even from this far away. He would never forget how it had felt close to a collapsing gate, as Dauntless, Daring, and Diamond had fought to keep the gate at Sancere from frying the star system it had served. Space itself had been warping inside the gate as the forces within it were unleashed, causing effects echoed within nearby human bodies even through the shields and armor of the warships. Only Captain Cresida’s theoretical firing plan for causing the gate to collapse in a way that minimized the resultant energy discharge had saved the three Alliance warships and who knew how many other ships and inhabitants in the Sancere Star System.
He wondered how the crews of those Syndic ships destroying the gate in this star system had felt, whether they’d experienced those forces and questioned their orders, whether they’d had time to realize that their obedience to commands was dooming not only them but also a great many other inhabitants of Lakota. He’d never know. Unaware of what they were unleashing, those ships had almost certainly been destroyed more than two hours ago, their crews forever silenced.
One more minute. Two more. Geary heard others muttering to themselves, the words inaudible but the tones clearly pleading. The words of the prayers change, but they always mean the same thing. Have mercy please, because there’s nothing else that human skill or device can do now.
The shock wave slammed into Dauntless. Geary fought down a surge of fear as the ship jerked and lights dimmed, his mind knowing that if the energy burst had been great enough to destroy Dauntless, then the battle cruiser would have been shattered before he had time to be afraid.