Every radio channel lit up with as many desperate voices speaking in as many desperate languages in as many radio bands could hold them. The quantum telegraphs flipped out of control, spitting out message after message. The Solar Militia had done something terrible, something beyond scientific understanding, and then they were gone. A few more ships warped in, fleeing the cradle of humanity, but then they stopped coming.
A few years later, as the photons finished their three light year journey here to Carina, they stopped coming too.
Sol winked into darkness.
