There was very little time left to react. Geary spun to Desjani. “Get me a course directly away from the hypernet gate’s location.” While she was coming up with that, he studied his display, looking at the disposition of his ships and realizing he had no time to rearrange them.
“Port one four zero degrees, down one two degrees,” Desjani announced.
Geary slapped the fleetwide command circuit. “All units in the Alliance fleet. Immediate course change. All ships come port one four zero degrees, down one two degrees, and accelerate to point one light. I say again, immediate execute turn port one four zero degrees, down one two degrees, and accelerate to point one light. The Syndic guard force has caused the hypernet gate in this system to collapse, generating an energy discharge of unknown scale. The energy discharge is theoretically capable of a nova-scale level. In one five minutes all ships are to cease acceleration, pivot to place themselves bow-on to the Syndic hypernet gate’s location, reinforce bow shields to the maximum strength possible, and set maximum preparation levels for damage control and repair.”
He slumped backward as Desjani rapped out orders and
Dauntless
swung onto the new course, her propulsion units kicking in hard enough once again to make the inertial dampers whine in protest. “Captain Desjani,” Geary asked, “can this ship survive a nova-scale burst of energy at this distance from the source?” He was pretty sure he already knew the answer and pretty sure it wasn’t a happy one, but he wanted to be certain.
“I seriously doubt it.” Desjani frowned, then glanced around the bridge, focusing on one watch-stander. “Assessment? ” she demanded.
The watch-stander tapped a data pad frantically, then shook his head. “No, ma’am. As the burst expands away from the source, its single-point intensity is going to be dropping rapidly, but not nearly fast enough. A battle cruiser’s shields and armor, even at full strength, couldn’t withstand it even with maximum preparations. Destroyers, cruisers, they’d be totally overwhelmed.
Battleships might have a chance at this distance. Not a big one, but some might make it through, though they’d be completely crippled.” He paused and tapped a couple of more times. “The battleships’ crews would all be killed by the radiation, though, after it collapsed their shields, so I guess it wouldn’t matter.”
Desjani blew out a long breath, then looked to Geary. “We’d better hope it’s not nova-scale.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he agreed.
Desjani seemed to hesitate, then turned back to the same watch-stander. “What about the inhabited world in this star system?”
Geary stared at her. In his concern for the fleet, he hadn’t yet considered what would happen to that world. Yet Desjani had, or at least had realized that he would care.
The watch-stander rubbed his brow with one hand and tapped his data pad again. “There’s a lot of uncertainties. If the energy wave is nova-scale or anywhere near that, the planet will be turned into a cinder. If it’s something a great deal lower than that, the side facing the hypernet gate’s former location when the shock wave hits will be fried, but the sheltered side might be able to ride it out though they’ll face horrific storms. Whether the planet will be habitable after that is hard to say.”
“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.
“Forward shields down thirty percent, no hull damage, minor energy leak-through affecting ship systems.” The reports rolled in while Geary waited for the display to clear and reveal the state of his fleet, whether his lighter ships had been able to survive the blow.
“Preliminary estimate places the energy output at the source at point one three on the Yama-Potillion Nova Scale.”
“Point one three,” Desjani murmured, then she ducked her head again and her lips moved without a sound for a moment.
Geary did the same, breathing his own quick thanks that the energy output had been so much lower than it could have been.
The display cleared, symbols updating rapidly. Geary ran his eyes across his ship-status reports, searching for red-lined systems. The hardest hit had been the destroyers since their shields were weakest, but none seemed to have suffered major damage. A lot of subsystems blown and a few cases of hull damage, but otherwise even the fleet’s smallest ships had come through intact.
Where the image of the Syndic hypernet gate and the nearby Syndic warships had been, there was now nothing. It took the fleet’s sensors a few moments to find what was left of the Syndic guard force. Whatever remained of the smaller warships was in pieces too small for the system to find immediately. Large pieces of debris tumbling away from the former site of the hypernet gate were assessed as the remains of the two Syndic battle cruisers. One of the two battleships had also been shattered into several large fragments, while the other had broken into two segments that seemed very badly torn up. As Geary watched, one of the big segments blew up. Or rather, he finally saw the light from two and a half hours ago showing the segment explode back then.
“They never knew what hit them. That close to the energy discharge, even reinforced shields wouldn’t have been enough.”
Desjani nodded. “That’s what would’ve happened to us at Sancere if Captain Cresida’s calculations hadn’t worked, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“I owe that woman a drink when we get home.”
Geary couldn’t help a short laugh born of relief. “I think we owe her more than that. A bottle of the finest booze we can find. I’ll go halves with you on it.”
Desjani’s mouth widened in a brief, tight smile. “Deal.” The smile vanished. “Where now?”
“Let’s head toward the jump point for Branwyn. What should our course be if we hold this speed?” He could have worked it out himself easily but didn’t trust his thinking at the moment.
Desjani glanced toward her maneuvering watch, who hastily worked out the solution.
Geary paused a moment longer to ensure that his voice would be steady, then punched his command circuit again. “All units in the Alliance fleet, return to positions in Fleet Formation Delta Two. At time three five all units turn together starboard one zero six degrees, up zero four degrees.”