“Zero One Black?” Kazmir said, in dark surprise to his commanding officer.

 

“Yes, Lieutenant, Zero One Black,” his captain repeated, slowly. He looked back at his screen to make sure he had read the instruction correctly. “With royal seal,” he added. Without the transmitted seal, the computer would not allow the task to be carried out.

 

“You do realize that means Eta Carinae will be isolated. Permanently”

 

Captain Trelayne stared back at Kazmir for a long moment. “I know, Lieutenant. Hold station and await the confirmation order. The procedure requires confirmation within ten minutes.” He rose slowly from his seat and went outside.

 

A pale sun was sinking slowly, touching the rusty hills in the distance. Trelayne knew that the twin stars of the Eta Carinae system would soon be visible. The warm evening would soon be turning to a cold night, and the clouds that filled the daytime sky had dispersed. He looked back at the sweeping silver structure that was the control station for this quadrant of the Network. Its tall transmission spire was the only interesting feature of the unending desert that covered this small, desolate world.

 

Kazmir walked slowly in his direction.

 

“Sorry, sir.”

 

“It’s OK, Lieutenant. It’s not every day we’re instructed to isolate six billion people and disconnect them from the rest of the Empire.”

 

Trelayne stared at the darkening horizon. Their work was largely mundane, mostly consisting of monitoring the integrity of the local network of wormholes. They had never dealt with anything more serious than minor fluctuations in energy output, although Trelayne and Kazimir had always known their lonely outpost held the power to do so much more.

 

“We just received the confirmation code to go ahead and trigger,” Kazimir said, visibly shaken.

 

“The Emperor has pronounced judgement and delivered his sentence.”

 

“The Laurus uprising?”

 

The captain nodded. “He’s making the people of Carinae pay. As well as future generations.”

 

“Once the trigger is activated at Arcturus and the local Network is collapsed–” Kazmir didn’t finish his sentence. He knew his lieutenant was fully aware of what was about to happen. He shook his head slowly, gazing sadly at the two distant shining stars, then looked to their sun now throwing its last rays of the day over the uncaring horizon.

 

“Don’t mess with the Empire.” The lieutenant said, almost to himself. He now felt he was questioning his job and what he was about to do: to bring about the forced isolation of an entire system. A message to the other worlds, for sure. The officer walked solemnly back to his station and triggered the collapse sequence. He knew refusal would mean dishonorable discharge and probably prison.

 

Outside, Captain Trelayne of the Emperor’s 43rd Engineers watched the sky as The Trigger was initiated. A deep rumble beneath the ground was followed by a bright blue flash that lit the mountains on the horizon. The wormhole entrance at Eta Carinae would collapse moments later, although the light of that detonating explosion would not arrive at the outpost for seven years.

 

The night was quieter than ever, thought Trelayne, as the doomed system began a long, long era of sadness and solitude.