As the Genesis got closer to the derelict ship, they started to have some doubts about the operation. What appeared on their screens defied every expectation they'd developed about derelict salvage operations.
"That's not a wreck," Drew said, studying the tactical display with growing confusion. "Look at the hull integrity, no significant breaches, structural systems appear intact."
The battleship hung motionless in the void, its two-kilometer bulk unmarred by the kind of catastrophic damage they'd come to expect from deep vortex discoveries. The vessel's silhouette matched Fall kingdom designs from about 100 years ago. Made it a perfect target, young enough to be useful but old enough that all salvage rights had expired.
But something was wrong. Fundamentally, disturbingly wrong.
"No power signatures," Cameron reported from the engineering station. "No communications, no life support emissions, no residual energy from backup systems. Every indication suggests complete system failure decades ago."
"Then explain the gravitometric distortions," Janet said, her navigation displays showing readings that made no sense. "Space around that ship is... bent. Like heat haze, but frozen in vacuum."
Through Genesis's viewports, the battleship seemed to shimmer at the edges, its outline wavering as if seen through water or the hot air coming off of desert sand. The effect was subtle but persistent. There was something wrong with reality itself. It appeared unstable in the vicinity of the derelict vessel.
Tanya felt unease crawling up her spine. Every sense she possessed was screaming warnings about this particular target. She was ready to turn around without investigating further.
"Sage," she said quietly, "what are we looking at?"
[The gravitometric readings are consistent with deliberate dimensional manipulation. But the scale and persistence suggest technologies that should no longer exist in this region of space.]
"Should no longer exist?" Cameron asked, moving closer to study the sensor readings. "You mean this is ancient technology?"
[Yes, the makers of this technology have moved on from his part of the galaxy. It is a very ancient technology]
As they moved closer, their instruments began displaying increasingly erratic readings. Chronometers drifted out of synchronisation, navigation systems reported conflicting position data, and even their enhanced sensors struggled to maintain coherent readings of the space around the battleship.
"This is more than gravitometric distortion," Tanya realised, watching her quantum glasses overlay conflicting dimensional data. "Time itself is unstable around that ship."
[Confirmed. What you are observing is a Chrono-Static Bubble, an artificial pocket of accelerated or decelerated temporal flow. These phenomena were once used by the Zars as prisons, weapons, or deterrent systems.]
The workshop fell silent as they continued to look at the ship. They weren't looking at a derelict vessel. Instead, they were looking at a trap that had been active for decades.
"Could anyone inside still be alive?" Simran asked, though her tone suggested she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.
[Yes,] Sage replied grimly. [But their existence would be... complicated. Time within the bubble flows at a dramatically different rate than normal space. Seconds stretch into years, or years compress into moments. The experience would be psychologically devastating even if physical survival were possible.]
//Additionally,// Sage said privately to Tanya, //I am detecting heightened distress responses from Mera. The xenolinguistic analysis programs are registering fragmentary impressions: voices-stretched-broken, time-wrong-twisted, minds-screaming-silent.//
"There are people alive in there," Tanya said with horrified certainty. "Trapped in seconds that have lasted for decades."
"Are you sure?" Janet asked.
"Yes,"
Cameron studied the temporal distortion readings with growing comprehension. "The crew could have experienced subjective centuries while only minutes passed in normal space. Or they could be frozen in moments that last for years from their perspective."
"Let's continue collecting sensor data for now. A couple more days won't hurt them, especially considering they've been trapped here for nearly a century. We need to make sure we understand exactly what we're dealing with before we attempt any rescue."
She stood from her position at the sensor station, her expression carefully neutral. "I need to review some technical specifications. Cameron, continue to monitor the temporal distortions and compile a comprehensive analysis. Everyone else, maintain a safe distance and continue passive scanning."
Tanya made her way through Genesis's corridors to one of the smaller conference rooms, sealing the door behind her before activating privacy screens.
"All right, Sage," she said quietly. "What aren't you telling me about this situation?"
//The temporal distortions are more complex than I initially indicated,// Sage replied, their voice carrying unusual tension. //Collapsing a Chrono-Static Bubble safely requires advanced understanding of dimensional physics and gravitometric manipulation. Your current capabilities are insufficient for such an operation.//
The familiar Knowledge Point notification appeared in Tanya's peripheral vision, displaying her current allocation and the advanced lessons required for temporal stabilisation techniques. The cost was substantial, almost half of her accumulated points.
"I need to spend KP," she said reluctantly. "A lot of it. For gravitometric manipulation and advanced dimensional physics."
The hesitation in her voice was obvious. She few KP as a rare resource that should only be used for lessons that would directly affect her goals. Using them to salvage a crew that has likely been driven mad, while admirable, seemed wasteful. Sage seemed to have picked up on her distress,
//This knowledge is not optional for your intended mission,// Sage said firmly. //Gravity and time are aspects of the same fundamental force. To build peacekeeping vessels capable of operating in contested space. To control the movement and directions of ships, you need to understand spacetime.//
"Gravity is time," Tanya murmured, remembering fragments from her university physics courses.
//Exactly. And if you intend to save lives trapped in temporal distortions, now or in the future, this lesson becomes essential rather than elective.//
Tanya looked at the battleship's wavering outline, thinking about the crew trapped inside experiencing subjective eternities of confusion and terror. Ninety thousand lives in her ledger, and here was an opportunity to start balancing the books.
"Do it," she decided, accessing the Knowledge Point interface. "Initialise the gravimetric manipulation lesson."
She made her way back to her workshop, where Mera's bioluminescent patterns immediately shifted to warmer hues. Her distress from earlier had faded, replaced by curious spirals of blue and green that suggested she was eager to observe whatever Tanya was planning.
"I need to learn some new tricks," Tanya explained, retrieving her VR headset from its storage compartment.
Tanya awakened in a body that definitely wasn't human. That was the standard for these lessons. She wondered what type of alien she would meet this time.
She drifted through the corona of a massive star, her new form resembling a bioluminescent space squid with tentacles that trailed streams of glowing plasma. Around her, dozens of similar creatures moved in graceful formations, their bodies generating thrust through controlled ejections of ionized particles.
Star-Swimmers, she decided to name them. The idea of interspace lifeforms had always fascinated her. Before she met Mera, she wasn't sure if any of them existed.
Her tentacles glowed with internal luminescence, generating directional thrust that let her navigate the stellar winds with impossible precision. The creatures around her were beautiful—organic ion drives that fed on stellar radiation while swimming through gravitational currents like fish in an ocean of spacetime.
She found herself immediately fascinated by their propulsion systems, trying to reverse-engineer the biological mechanisms that converted stellar radiation into controlled thrust. How did their internal organs process ionized hydrogen? What neural pathways controlled the electromagnetic field generation that—
Focus, came Sage's voice, carrying a note of exasperation. You are here to learn gravitometric principles, not to design biological starships.
A larger Star-Swimmer approached, it was ancient and massive, its bioluminescent patterns complex beyond anything the younger creatures displayed. When it spoke, the voice was ancient and filled with knowledge gained from eons of experience navigating the gravitational currents between stars.
Observe, the elder commanded, and space around them shifted.
The Star-Swimmers began demonstrating something that defied Tanya's understanding of physics. As she watched, they seemed to... reduce themselves, becoming less substantial without actually shrinking. The effect was subtle, but profound as parts of their bodies appeared to fade into a layer of reality she couldn't quite perceive.
We are shifting mass into the third space, the elder explained, demonstrating with its own massive form. A dimensional layer between vortex space and realspace. By controlling how much of ourselves exists in each layer, we regulate our mass, inertia, and temporal flow.
A younger Star-Swimmer demonstrated, shifting perhaps two percent of its mass into the imperceptible third layer. Immediately, it accelerated through the stellar winds with impossible grace, its reduced mass allowing maneuvers that should have been physically impossible.
Now observe the temporal effects, the elder continued.
Another Star-Swimmer shifted forty percent of its mass into third space, and Tanya watched in fascination as time around the creature began to distort. To her perception, the being moved with deliberate slowness, but she could sense that from its perspective, the universe had accelerated dramatically.
To us, an interstellar journey lasting ten seconds of subjective time allows millennia to pass for stationary observers. We experience the passage of time based on how much of ourselves exists in each dimensional layer.
The elder continued to give a deep lecture about the physics of their bodies and how they worked. Tanya suspected that it was normally more instinctual, and this lecture was for her own benefit.
Tanya struggled with the mathematics, trying to understand the propulsion applications while missing the deeper principles. The elder's mental sigh rippled through dimensional space.
When a gravitational anchor fails, the elder demonstrated, showing her a simulation of a trapped Star-Swimmer, time distortion becomes uncontrolled. The solution is not to break the temporal bubble, but to temporarily assume the role of gravitational anchor from outside the distorted region.
The lesson continued.
Tanya awakened in the workshop drenched in sweat, her mind filled with new equations and dimensional relationships that she'd never imagined possible. The battleship still wavered outside their viewports, but now she could see the underlying structure of its temporal prison.
"I know what we need to build," she announced to the workshop, moving immediately to the design interface.
The Temporal Stabilisation Array that emerged from her enhanced understanding was unlike anything in their previous work—a device that existed partially in three different dimensional layers, providing gravitational anchoring that could safely collapse chronostatic distortions.
//Theoretically sound,// Sage confirmed as she finalised the specifications. //But untested, dangerous, and prone to catastrophic failure if constructed improperly. The margin for error is effectively zero.//
"Then we'll build it perfectly," Tanya replied with more confidence than she felt.