>>5587672"Alright, enough playing cat and mouse. We're bringing all systems online!" Your decision made, you commit to showing your hand to the unknown assailants. Despite their seemingly advanced technology, they’re still only the size of a light cruiser. Without surprise on their side, your vessel should be more than a match for the ten measly torpedoes they’ve mustered against you.
“Sci, bring that TFA up to full power. If they’re using so much as a grav plate I want to know about it.”
“Aye, Sir, spooling up now.” Eyes-of-Night coos softly, her mature translated voice drawling in contentment with your decision.
The lights on the observation bridge dim as enormous amounts of power is diverted to spin up the great rotating coils that enable a tiny localised tear in subspace to form despite the proximity to the system Primary. Moments later the Temporal Flux Antenna dips through the rent in space-time to peer into the shallowest layer of subspace, allowing it to detect any ripples in the boundary between the two — propagating at a speed magnitudes greater than light in realspace.
Any usage of devices relying on Space Rarefaction, Compression and Manipulation principles will shine like beacons to the sensitive instrument. Nothing significant will evade its sight, with anything greater than a Corvette class SCRAM drive detectable across the width of a star system at the TFA’s current power setting. With the incoming torpedoes less than five light minutes away, you expect finding their real-time locations will be a breeze. If not, then they're likely coasting ballistically instead and you’ll have plenty of time to pick them up on optical.
Eagerly awaiting the results, you lean forward in anticipation, perhaps unwisely considering your lack of restraining straps and still numb legs. Abruptly, a profound sense of vast emptiness assaults your mind and your vision blanks, replaced with an endless vista of pure white. Agoraphobia assaults you worse than you’ve ever experienced before from your implant sickness, but you power through it, bracing your arms against the sides of your command seat. You notice dark pinpricks of shadow sweep into view and then out again, your vision rotating at a nauseating rate. Dark ripples spread out from the sources like pebbles dropped in a still pond, the waves gradually dissipating with distance.
You grit your teeth and slowly draw yourself away from the disorienting vision, your experience <span class="mu-b">(Part of the Crew, Part of the Ship(1))</span> making it possible to distinguish between what must be Peedee’s experience of her newly awakened TFA sensor and your own human senses. The poor little thing is likely just as overwhelmed as you are, but for your own sanity you clamp down on the command implant’s link to her as much as you can. You need your mind clear so you can interpret the results of the scan and make an informed decision on how to proceed.
