The calculations consumed three days of intensive work. Tanya found herself hunched over holographic displays in Genesis's main workshop, surrounded by crystalline matrices from salvaged vortex drives and dimensional field generators filled with energy. Cameron and Simran flanked her workstations, their expressions cycling between fascination and complete bewilderment as she explained the theoretical framework behind temporal stabilisation array.
"Think of it as building another dimensional doorway," Tanya said for the dozenth time, manipulating the holographic projection to show intersecting planes of reality. "We need to create an artificial anchor point that can exist simultaneously in realspace, and this third space, then use that connection to pull the battleship back into normal temporal flow."
Cameron studied the calculations with the focused attention of someone desperately trying to understand concepts that exceeded his training. "The crystal technology you're describing... It's nothing like conventional dimensional engineering of the vortex drives or our other projects. These matrices would need to maintain coherent states across multiple reality layers simultaneously."
"Exactly!" Tanya's excitement was infectious, though she could see it was largely lost on her audience. "The Star-Swimmers manage it biologically, but we can replicate the effect using properly aligned crystalline structures. The key is creating dimensional interference patterns that—"
"Slow down," Simran interrupted gently. "You're losing us again. Can you break this down step by step?"
Tanya took a breath, forcing herself to translate advanced dimensional physics into concepts her teammates could follow. She needed them to understand, as only Cameron's abilities with crystal technology and Simran's programming abilities were going to make theoretical knowledge from the lesson a reality.
"We're going to build a new dimensional anchor and attach it to the battleship. Once the anchor is in place, we can gradually pull the ship back into our normal spacetime instead of leaving it trapped in the temporal bubble."
"Like a tow line, but for time itself," Cameron said slowly.
"Precisely. The anchor will exist in multiple dimensional layers, creating a stable connection that lets us collapse the time distortion without destroying the ship or its crew."
A week of intensive fabrication followed. The Temporal Stabilisation Array took shape component by component, each crystalline matrix requiring precise quantum enhancement to maintain the dimensional resonance patterns Tanya had learned from the Star-Swimmers. The work was exhausting, demanding absolute precision at every stage of construction.
When they finally completed the device, Tanya stared at it with mixed feelings. The array worked—their tests confirmed that it could create dimensional anchors and manipulate temporal fields. But it was crude compared to the elegant biological systems she'd observed in the simulation, a mechanical approximation of something that should have been poetry.
"I spent KP on this," she muttered, disappointed by the gap between theory and implementation. "It should be better."
//The first iteration of any revolutionary technology is always imperfect,// Sage observed. //But consider the broader applications. This device represents the foundation for numerous peacekeeping capabilities, such as temporal rescue operations, dimensional shield systems, and even gravity-based non-lethal weapons.//
Tanya nodded, recognising the potential even as she mourned the limitations. They attached the Temporal Stabilisation Array to their smallest craft. A converted maintenance pod that could be operated remotely. If the battleship's crew proved hostile upon rescue, she didn't want to risk putting anyone in immediate danger.
"I'm not sure how they'll react," she admitted as they prepared for the operation. "A century of subjective time trapped in temporal distortion... that could break anyone's mind."
//I will pilot the rescue vessel,// Sage stated. //Remote operation eliminates human risk while maintaining operational flexibility.//
The maintenance pod approached the battleship with careful precision, its Temporal Stabilisation Array, was filled with power that bent space around its hull. Through their sensors, they watched the device engage, establishing dimensional anchors that existed beyond normal perception.
For several minutes, nothing visible happened. The battleship continued its ethereal shimmer, caught between moments like a photograph exposed too long. Then, gradually, the time distortion began to collapse.
Reality snapped back into focus with the suddenness of a broken chain.
The battleship solidified, its hull losing the wavering quality that had marked its temporal imprisonment. Power signatures flared as systems that had been frozen between seconds suddenly resumed operation. And immediately, weapon systems began targeting their rescue vessel.
"Hostile contact!" Cameron announced as the battleship's guns swivelled toward their position. "They're locking onto the Genesis!"
Energy beams lanced out from the rescued vessel, barely missing the maintenance pod as Sage maneuvered with inhuman precision. The battleship's weapons were older technology, but still capable of inflicting serious damage on an unshielded target.
Tanya activated the communication array with desperate urgency. "Unknown vessel, this is Tanya Furrow aboard the research ship Genesis. We are peaceful! We just rescued you from temporal imprisonment. Please respond!"
The battleship's guns continued tracking them, power building for what would clearly be a devastating volley. Tanya felt sweat beading on her forehead as she realised their rescue operation might end in violence despite their best intentions.
"If you attack us, we will defend ourselves," she continued, hoping her voice carried more confidence than she felt. "And we will win. But we don't want to fight. Please, just talk to us."
It was a complete bluff. The Genesis had the capabilities, but she didn't want fire on a confused ship. They did have a few non-lethal options available if it came to that, but she hoped it wouldn't. But something in her tone must have penetrated the battleship crew's confusion, because the weapons stopped tracking and a communication channel opened.
The face that appeared on their screen was haggard beyond description. The captain looked ancient, his features worn by stress and exhaustion that went far deeper than simple aging. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of centuries.
"What... what happened to us?" he asked, the question emerging as barely more than a whisper. "My crew... we were…exploring, and then... time became broken. We've been conscious for... for so long..."
Tanya's heart clenched at the pain in his voice. She didn't believe the cover story of exploring, but after all this time, what they had been doing wasn't relevant. "You became trapped in a temporal anomaly. Some kind of chronostatic field that distorted time flow around your ship. We don't know exactly how it happened, but we have the technology to detect such phenomena. We've come to rescue you."
"How long?" The captain's question carried desperate hope and terrible fear in equal measure.
"What's the last date you remember?"
He provided coordinates and timestamps that Cameron quickly cross-referenced with historical databases. The result was exactly what they'd feared.
"Sir," Tanya said gently, "you've been missing for ninety-seven years. Today's date is..."
She watched the captain's face cycle through disbelief, horror, and something approaching despair as the magnitude of their temporal displacement sank in. Behind him, other crew members were gathering, their own expressions showing the same devastating recognition. Some were far younger than others. Tanya could tell the effect hadn't been uniform.
"Ninety-seven years," the captain repeated numbly. "Everyone we knew... everyone we served... they're gone."
Before anyone could respond to comfort him, crew members throughout the battleship began collapsing. Through the communication link, they could see people simply falling unconscious where they stood, their bodies finally succumbing to stresses that had accumulated over subjective decades of temporal imprisonment.
//Human physiology cannot sustain the cellular damage caused by extended temporal distortion,// Sage observed grimly. //Their bodies are riddled with microscopic time fractures that are now causing cascading system failures. The rescue was successful, but the damage is irreversible.//
"How long do they have?" Tanya asked. She had wished he had told her this sooner; they could have prepared a plan to deal with it. Or maybe Sage knew Tanya wouldn't have attempted the rescue if she knew.
//Hours. Perhaps less for those who experienced the most severe temporal stress.//
Tanya relayed the information to the captain, whose ancient eyes showed no surprise at the news. "We felt it," he said simply. "The wrongness in our bodies, the way time had gotten into our bones. We knew we were dying from the moment you freed us."
"I'm sorry," she said, meaning it completely. "We tried to save you."
"You did save us," the captain replied with unexpected strength. "For the first time in subjective centuries, we can experience normal time. We can think clearly, speak to each other, and remember what it felt like to be human. That's worth more than continued existence in temporal hell."
The next few hours were both heartbreaking and strangely beautiful. The battleship's crew, knowing they had limited time remaining, focused on connection rather than despair. They recorded messages for families that had died decades ago, used Genesis's extranet access to learn what had become of the worlds they'd served, shared stories and memories that would otherwise have died with them.
Some discoveries were celebratory with worlds that had prospered, peace treaties that had ended conflicts, children who had grown up to become leaders and artists and scientists. Others were devastating with colonies that had failed, wars that had consumed entire star systems, and loved ones who had died waiting for crews that would never return home.
But everyone found some form of closure.
Captain Lucas Vengus was the last to record his message, speaking directly to descendants he'd never met about service, duty, and the importance of connections that transcended time itself. When he finished, he looked at Tanya with eyes that seemed impossibly old.
"Thank you," he said simply. "For giving us back our humanity in the time we had left."
As the battleship's crew passed away one by one, Tanya found herself thinking about the ninety thousand lives in her ledger. These deaths weren't part of that debt. If anything, she'd given these people peace instead of taking it away.
The Temporal Stabilisation Array had worked, proving that her new capabilities could rescue people from impossible situations. It was crude, imperfect, insufficient but it was a beginning.
And sometimes, she reflected as she watched the battleship drift silent in normal space, a beginning was enough to change everything.
Her reflection was interrupted by Drew.
"Well it looks like we have a battleship to salvage."