“What about the aftermath?” Rione demanded.
The watch-stander grimaced. “A lot of them will be trapped. Food supplies are gone, the atmosphere appreciably thinned worldwide, all that water vapor and ash blown into the air. There are going to be some horrendous storms. I don’t know, Madam Co-President. The people on the sheltered side might stand a chance even though life will get awfully rough. The ones who got hit… Well, I wouldn’t want to have been there when it hit, and I wouldn’t want to be there trying to survive.”
Geary nodded. “And that was only a point one three nova-scale output of energy. Way toward the low end of the possible output.”
Desjani had her eyes on the display, her face rigid, but she said nothing as she gazed at the image of a ruined world.
“Seeing this,” Rione observed in a quiet voice, “it’s hard to see them as enemies. They just look like people who need help.”
Geary nodded again, silently.
“Can we render any assistance?” Rione asked.
This time he shook his head. “Unfortunately, I have experience with this. When I was a junior officer, the star in the Cirinci system spat out a big flare that fried most of the facing parts of the primary inhabited planet in that star system. ” No one on Dauntless’s bridge seemed to recognize the event, a more-than-a-century-old tragedy lost to popularly remembered history in the wake of the many disasters that had followed as war raged for decade after decade.
Fighting off the old feeling of being lost among strangers, his own life vanished in time, Geary used one hand to indicate the display. “Cirinci wasn’t this bad, from what I can see, but we had to run out the disaster-relief requirements to see what the fleet could do, and the answer kept coming up not very damn much. The Alliance government had to requisition lots of civilian freighters to carry the relief-and-rebuilding supplies, and even then it all took too long. I think the only military assets that ended up being used were some of the big troop transports to bring in relief workers and haul out evacuees. Even if this fleet was fully stocked, and it’s far from that, everything we could do would be a drop in the bucket compared to what the surviving people in this star system need. And we couldn’t expect much in the way of gratitude from the Syndic leaders. They’d still do their level best to destroy us if we lingered here.”
Rione sighed. “There’s nothing that can be done?”
“We’ll tell every Syndic system we pass through that they need help here.” Geary pointed to his display. “Some Syndic merchant ships survived the shock wave. They sheltered behind available worlds, either by luck or because they got our warning in time. Those ships can go for help.”
“Yes. They’ll tell everyone what happened here.” Rione’s eyes met his, and Geary nodded once more.
It was no longer a matter of trying to keep secret the destructive potential of collapsing hypernet gates, but rather a matter of dealing with the results of the knowledge of that spreading as fast as humans could pass on reports of disaster.
Desjani finally spoke again. “The Syndic leaders.” She turned a hard gaze on Geary. “After Sancere, some of them surely suspected what destroying this gate could do to this star system. But they ordered it here anyway, and apparently told no one what to expect. If the energy burst had been strong enough, everyone in this star system would have died and no one could have reported what really happened.” Her eyes returned to the display of the devastated world. “This isn’t war. It’s an atrocity, committed on these people by their own leaders in an attempt to destroy this fleet.”
There wasn’t much he could say to that except to nod once more in silent agreement.
Desjani spoke again, her tone abrupt. “There could be Alliance prisoners of war on that world. Some of them could’ve been brought there after our battles here nearly two weeks ago.”
Geary’s eyes went back to the image of the ruined world. He forced out an answer. “If they were on the side of the planet that got hit, they’re beyond finding and beyond help.”
“What if they’re on the other side?” Desjani swung on her watch-standers, barking out orders. “I want a fine-grain analysis of that world prior to the shock wave hitting for any signs of a prisoner-of-war encampment or indications of Alliance personnel being held anywhere. Optics, communications, everything!”
“Captain, analysis of the planet prior to the shock wave’s hitting it didn’t reveal any such indications-”
“Do it again! If there’s an Alliance flea alive on that world, I want to know it!”
Desjani’s voice echoed on the suddenly silent bridge, then her watch-standers hastily acknowledged the orders and jumped to their tasks. As Desjani slumped in her captain’s chair, glaring at her display, Rione eyed her somberly, then left the bridge without another word. Geary hesitated, reading Desjani’s mood of frustration and outrage at what had happened in this star system, then left silently as well. Sometimes even the closest friends needed distance.
Geary wandered through the passageways of Dauntless for a while, feeling depressed and restless. He’d just been coming out of his postvictory low caused by the inevitable cost of any victory when the sight of the destruction wreaked by the hypernet gate’s collapse had made him dejected again.
The crew members he met were subdued as well, but also giddy with the relief of survival and victory. In days to come, the extent of the victory would sink in and elation would follow, but for now everyone was mostly just glad to be alive and still have a chance of getting home. They seemed to regard Geary with even more awe than he’d encountered on any previous occasion. Not able to stand much of that, Geary retreated to the only sure shelter available.
When he finally reached his stateroom, craving some time alone, Rione was already there and staring at the star display, her attitude distant. “My condolences on the losses to the fleet,” she stated in a low voice.
“Thanks.” Geary sat down, keeping his own eyes fixed on the display, not wanting to be around anyone else at the moment or to talk about his fleet’s latest losses. Not when memories of the destruction caused by the hypernet gate’s collapse were still fresh in his mind as well.
“As far as I can tell,” Rione continued, “Captain Faresa died on Majestic.”
“Nobody got off that ship,” Geary responded shortly.
“And Captain Kerestes died on Warrior along with Commander Suram.”
That stung. Kerestes had been aggressively passive, something Geary had once thought impossible, so afraid of making a mistake that he took every effort to avoid doing anything. By contrast, in his short time as captain of Warrior, Commander Suram had motivated her dispirited crew and fought well. “I intend doing everything I can to ensure that Commander Suram receives the credit he deserves as commanding officer of that ship. Captain Kerestes had no role in the matter.” Geary wondered briefly if Kerestes had even survived long enough to be among those trying to abandon ship. It was just as likely that he’d died in his stateroom as Syndic hell lances ravaged Warrior, a career dedicated to avoiding any action that might look bad ending at the hands of enemy warships that didn’t care whether or not Captain Kerestes had a service record unblemished by any obvious blunders.
“And Captain Falco?” Rione asked.
Geary almost winced, thinking of the insane Captain Falco, confined to his quarters as Warrior fought her final battle. He hadn’t yet discovered what Falco’s last moments had been like, or even if anyone knew. “I hated what that man did, but that’s no way for anyone to die.”
“Most likely he was safely wrapped in his delusions,” Rione suggested. “Believing he was commanding the battle, going down to heroic defeat, fighting to the last. Not realizing how little he really controlled his fate.”