Author's note: This story, ending with chapter 26, is set in my Limoxian Universe. My other stories set in this universe are books published by DopplerPress on Kindle and all the proceeds from purchases go for the support of BCTS. They are Pretty Please! No Foolin' and Space Force Enterprise. You can find these books on Amazon via the story links for them in the right-hand margin. And now on with this story!

06 Approaching the Unknown

The vast emptiness between Alban Kai and Sol stretched before us like an ocean of stars, each point of light representing possibilities I had never dared imagine during my confined existence on our homeworld. Three weeks had passed since our escape through the planetary cloak, and the Quantum Dancer had settled into a steady rhythm of interstellar travel. The ship's crystalline hull hummed with contained energy as we approached the outer reaches of the Sol system, where Earth's electromagnetic transmissions grew stronger with each passing hour.

"Rasctan," Sela's voice carried a note of concern that had become increasingly frequent as we neared our destination. "I'm detecting unusual energy signatures approximately two million kilometers off our starboard bow. The readings don't match any known Alban or Earth technology."

I leaned forward in the command chair, my fingers dancing across the holographic controls to bring up the sensor displays. "Show me what you're seeing."

The main screen flickered to life, revealing a massive vessel that dwarfed our small ship by several orders of magnitude. Its hull was a study in aggressive design—angular surfaces covered in weapon emplacements, with a distinctive parabolic dish mounted along its side that pulsed with ominous energy.

"That's a Confedia Dreadnought," I breathed, recognizing the design from intelligence briefings I had studied at the Aurenium. "But what's it doing in the Sol system?"

"Cross-referencing with our intelligence databases," Sela replied, her processing cycles working at maximum capacity. "The vessel matches the specifications of the CNS Retribution, officially listed as missing from Confedia space three months ago. However, I'm detecting modifications to its weapon systems and propulsion arrays that suggest unauthorized upgrades."

A chill ran down my spine as I remembered our discussions about Captain Makelan and his stolen Dreadnought. "Sela, can you identify the commanding officer?"

"Scanning... Yes. Captain Makelan's bio-signature is present on the bridge. He appears to be in command of a crew of approximately eight hundred Golram personnel."

Before I could respond, the communications array crackled to life with an incoming transmission. The main screen shifted to show the bridge of the Dreadnought, where a massive Golram figure stood before the command chair. Captain Makelan was an imposing specimen of his species—nearly three meters tall, with the characteristic scaled hide and predatory features that marked the Golram as one of the galaxy's most aggressive civilizations.

"Attention, Alban vessel," Makelan's voice boomed through our speakers, his words carrying the guttural accent of his people. "You will surrender immediately and prepare to be boarded. Your advanced technology belongs to Confedia by right of superior force."

I activated our response channel, drawing myself up in the command chair with as much dignity as I could muster. "This is Prince Rasctan of Alban Kai, commanding the exploration vessel Quantum Dancer. You have no authority in this system, Captain Makelan. Withdraw immediately or face the consequences."

Makelan's laugh was a harsh sound that seemed to echo through the void between our ships. "Prince Rasctan? The foundling who stole a ship and fled his homeworld like a coward? You are no prince, boy. You are a thief and a fugitive, and I claim your vessel and its technology as salvage."

"I am Princess Amaza, rightful heir to the throne of Alban Kai," I replied, allowing my true identity to ring through the transmission. "And you, Captain Makelan, are a rogue and a pirate who has stolen Confedia property for your own purposes."

"Princess Amaza is dead," Makelan snarled, his scaled features twisting with contempt. "The entire galaxy knows she was stillborn. You cannot hide behind false identities forever, foundling."

"Then let me prove my identity through actions rather than words," I said, my hand moving to the weapons control interface. "Sela, prepare the Tessalt Torpedoes for launch."

"Torpedoes armed and ready," she confirmed, her voice carrying a note of grim determination. "The Tessaract Drive is synchronized for precision targeting."

Makelan's expression shifted from contempt to surprise as his sensors detected our weapon preparations. "Tessalt Torpedoes? Impossible. Those weapons are restricted to the Alban Royal Navy. How did a foundling acquire such—"

His words were cut off as the Dreadnought's weapon systems suddenly flared to life. The massive parabolic dish along its side began to glow with increasing intensity, energy traveling laterally along the ship's hull as it prepared to fire.

"Incoming weapon discharge!" Sela announced. "The Dreadnought is charging its primary armament—some form of paracausal superweapon."

"Evasive maneuvers!" I commanded, gripping the armrests of my chair as the Quantum Dancer's engines roared to full power.

The space around us erupted in brilliant light as Makelan's superweapon fired—a devastating spherical pulse that expanded outward from the Dreadnought with terrifying speed. Our ship's enhanced maneuverability saved us from the direct blast, but the edge of the energy wave caught our starboard shields and sent us spinning through space.

"Hull integrity at seventy percent," Sela reported as she fought to stabilize our trajectory. "That weapon tests molecular bonds at the quantum level—it's designed to cause spontaneous atomic fission in anything it touches."

"Then we don't let it touch us again," I said grimly. "Launch all Tessalt Torpedoes. Target the Dreadnought's primary weapon system and propulsion arrays."

"Torpedoes away," Sela confirmed.

Ten crystalline projectiles erupted from our cargo bay, each one no larger than a person but containing enough destructive potential to level a city. As they cleared our ship, Sela's control over the Tesseract Drive engaged, bending space-time around each torpedo to accelerate them far beyond normal physical limitations.

"You declare war on Confedia!" Makelan roared over the communications channel. "I name you eternal enemy of the Golram people, Princess Amaza! Your bloodline will be hunted to extinction!"

"My bloodline has survived worse threats than you," I replied, watching as our torpedoes closed the distance to their target with impossible speed.

The first torpedo struck the Dreadnought's parabolic weapon dish, its Tesseract-enhanced warhead tearing through the ship's hull like paper. The second and third torpedoes found their marks in the propulsion section, while the remaining seven spread out to target critical systems throughout the massive vessel.

But something went wrong as the torpedoes detonated. Instead of the controlled explosions we expected, the interaction between the Tesseract Drive fields and the Dreadnought's own paracausal technologies created an unexpected resonance cascade. Space-time itself began to warp and buckle around the enemy ship, reality bending in ways that defied comprehension.

"Sela, what's happening?" I demanded as our sensors registered impossible readings.

"The Tesseract fields are interacting with the Dreadnought's throne world technology," she replied, her voice tight with concentration. "The combination is creating a temporal rift—a tear in the fabric of space-time itself."

The void around the Dreadnought began to twist and spiral, forming a massive vortex that seemed to lead into another dimension entirely. The enemy ship, already crippled by our torpedo strikes, was being drawn inexorably toward the growing rift.

"Temporal displacement detected," Sela continued, her sensors working frantically to analyze the phenomenon. "The rift appears to terminate within Earth's Van Allen radiation belt, approximately fifty years in the past."

"Fifty years?" I stared at the display in shock. "You mean the rift leads to Earth's past?"

"Correct. The temporal distortion is creating a pathway to 1970s Earth, specifically within the inner Van Allen belt where the radiation levels are most intense."

On the main screen, we watched as the Dreadnought fought desperately against the pull of the temporal vortex. Makelan's voice crackled over the communications channel, filled with rage and desperation.

"This is not over, Princess Amaza! I will find a way back! I will hunt you across time itself!"

"Goodbye, Captain Makelan," I said quietly. "May you find the recognition you seek in whatever time you land in."

The Dreadnought disappeared into the temporal rift with a flash of brilliant light, the massive vessel vanishing as if it had never existed. The vortex collapsed moments later, leaving only empty space where our enemy had been.

"Sela, are you detecting any survivors?"

"Negative. The Dreadnought has been completely displaced through the temporal rift. However, I am detecting trace energy signatures that suggest the ship may not have survived the transition intact."

I slumped back in my command chair, overwhelmed by what we had just witnessed. "What do you mean?"

"The Van Allen radiation belt in Earth's past would have been lethal to Golram physiology, even with their ship's shielding. The temporal displacement combined with the intense radiation exposure would likely have vaporized the Dreadnought within minutes of arrival."

"So Makelan and his crew are dead?"

"Most likely. However, if any crew members managed to reach escape pods before the ship was destroyed, they might have survived reentry into Earth's atmosphere. The Golram use reentry capsules similar to Earth's Orion design—they could potentially have landed safely on the planet's surface."

The implications of that possibility sent a chill through me. "Golram survivors on 1970s Earth? They could alter the entire timeline."

"The risk is minimal," Sela assured me. "Even if some crew members survived, they would be stranded on a primitive world with no way to contact their homeworld or significantly influence technological development. Earth's governments in that era lacked the capability to reverse-engineer Golram technology."

I activated the long-range sensors, scanning the area where the Dreadnought had vanished. "Are we detecting any useful data from the temporal event?"

"Very little. The rift's collapse eliminated most of the sensor readings, and the interaction between our Tesseract fields and the Dreadnought's paracausal systems created too much interference for detailed analysis."

"So we have minimal data about what just happened?"

"Correct. We know that our Tessalt Torpedoes can interact with certain types of exotic technology to create temporal rifts, but we lack the specific parameters that would allow us to replicate the effect deliberately."

I stood and moved to the forward viewport, gazing out at the stars that surrounded us. Somewhere in that vast expanse lay Earth, our destination and the key to proving my worth to the galaxy. Behind us, the space where Makelan's Dreadnought had been was empty, marked only by fading energy signatures and the memory of a battle that had ended in ways none of us could have predicted.

"Sela, set course for Earth. Maximum sustainable velocity."

"Course laid in. We should reach the Sol system's outer planets within two weeks."

As the Quantum Dancer's engines engaged and we resumed our journey toward Earth, I couldn't shake the feeling that our encounter with Makelan was only the beginning. The temporal rift had eliminated one threat, but it had also demonstrated that our mission carried consequences far beyond what we had originally imagined.

"Sela, continue monitoring all frequencies for any sign of temporal disturbances or unusual activity in the Sol system."

"Acknowledged. I'm also analyzing the Earth transmissions we've been receiving. Their science fiction broadcasts contain remarkably sophisticated theories about temporal mechanics and dimensional travel."

"Anything that might help us understand what happened here?"

"Possibly. They have extensive fictional works dealing with time travel, temporal rifts, and the consequences of altering past events. While fictional, their theoretical frameworks show surprising insight into the actual mechanics of temporal displacement."

I returned to the command chair, settling in for the long journey ahead. "Keep studying their transmissions, Sela. If we're going to make contact with Earth, we need to understand not just their technology, but their imagination as well."

"Understood, Rasctan. I'm particularly intrigued by their concepts of teleportation technology. Combined with our Tesseract Drive capabilities, we might be able to develop transportation systems that revolutionize galactic travel."

As we continued toward Earth, I found myself thinking about Makelan's final words. He had declared himself my eternal enemy, sworn to hunt my bloodline across time itself. But the temporal rift had swallowed him and his ship, casting them into Earth's past where the Van Allen radiation belt would likely have destroyed them.

Yet something about the encounter troubled me. The ease with which our Tessalt Torpedoes had created the temporal rift suggested that such effects might not be as rare as we had assumed. If other weapons or technologies could produce similar results, the galaxy might be far more dangerous and unpredictable than anyone realized.

"Sela, add temporal rift research to our mission objectives. If we're going to establish trade relations with Earth, we need to understand the full implications of what our technology can do when it interacts with unknown systems."

"Agreed. I'm creating a comprehensive analysis protocol for any future encounters with exotic technologies."

The stars wheeled past as we continued our journey, carrying us toward a world that held the promise of recognition, discovery, and perhaps answers to questions we hadn't even known to ask. Behind us, the empty space where a Dreadnought had vanished served as a reminder that the universe was full of surprises—some wonderful, some terrible, and some that defied all attempts at understanding.

But we were no longer the same beings who had fled Alban Kai weeks ago. We had faced our first real test in the void between worlds, and we had emerged victorious. Whatever challenges awaited us on Earth, we would meet them with the confidence of those who had already proven themselves capable of the impossible.

The journey to Earth continued, and with it, our transformation from fugitives into something far more significant—pioneers who would reshape the galaxy's understanding of what was possible when courage met opportunity in the vast darkness between the stars.