The Nova Theseus flew through the vortex with practised ease. Tanya guided it toward coordinates that existed only in her navigation system, following a signal that would lead her back to the Genesis.
She had left the others on Eden-Five to begin preparations for the next project. It had been some time since Tanya had been alone, well, just her and Sage. She wished it was for something more exciting, but some problems required her personal attention.
As she came out of the vortex, she surveyed the massive ship. It was still scarred, still old, but noticeably different from when they'd first discovered it. Hull breaches had been patched with fresh plating. External sensors showed signs of repair. The maintenance crabs had been busy. She could see the old girl coming back to life.
"Ready for your second life, old girl?" she said to the ship as she observed it. Tanya had big plans for her new inherited ship.
"Impressive work," she murmured as she passed one of the new patched hull panels while guiding the Nova Theseus toward the docking bay where her workshop sat merged with the ship's structure.
//The crabs are efficient,// Sage observed. // They were designed well. At current repair rates, hull integrity will reach acceptable levels within another week.//
The Genesis felt less like a tomb now. Lights stayed steady in sections that had been dark, and atmosphere processors worked silently where vacuum had reigned for centuries.
But it was all running on borrowed power. The workshop strained to maintain basic life support and repair operations across the massive hull. Tanya needed to get the Genesis's own power systems online, which meant solving a problem that had been nagging at her since she'd first accessed the ship's systems.
The antimatter generators sat at the bottom of each of the side towers, imposing cylinders that looked alien. Tanya had the information dump from Feravincio explaining startup procedures, safety protocols, and operational parameters.
She had everything except fuel.
"Right," she said, pulling up the fuel specifications on her tablet. "Let's see what we're working with. Antimatter generator, standard magnetic confinement, Penning trap containment... fuel source is—"
She stopped reading.
"Ferrus-contra?" She read it again, hoping she'd misunderstood. "Anti-iron? That's what this thing runs on?"
//Correct,// Sage confirmed. //Element 26 in antimatter form. A heavy antimatter element particularly suited for power generation.//
"I didn't even know heavy antimatter elements could exist stably." Tanya scrolled through the technical specifications, her engineering education providing context while simultaneously highlighting how much humanity had lost. "We can barely create antihydrogen in laboratory conditions. This ship runs on anti-iron like it's common fuel."
//Observation: The knowledge loss your species suffered during the Expansion Wars was substantial,// Sage said.
Tanya felt a familiar frustration. It was the same feeling she got whenever she encountered technology that should be impossible by modern standards. She felt unprepared to deal with it all. "Why anti-iron specifically? Why not simpler antimatter?"
//Ferrus-contra possesses useful magnetic properties,// Sage explained. //Standard Penning traps can contain it effectively, unlike lighter antimatter elements that require more sophisticated containment. The magnetic reactivity makes it stable enough for practical use while still providing significant energy density.//
"So it's the sweet spot between power output and containability." Tanya studied the generator specifications with growing appreciation for the engineering involved. "Where do we get it?"
//That information is available in the Genesis's database. Searching now.//
Tanya accessed the ship's navigation and resource database while Sage processed. The interface was still clunky with reverse-engineered alien systems grafted onto human frameworks. She suspected that either knowledge download or Sage was helping with translation, as she instinctively knew what each symbol meant. Sage displayed the results on the main screen.
The search results made her heart sink.
"Of course," she muttered. "Because nothing can be simple."
Anti-iron occurred naturally only under extremely specific conditions: the polar regions of supergiant gas giants orbiting white dwarf stars. The intense radiation and gravitational stress created environments where heavy antimatter could form and remain stable, trapped in the planet's magnetic field.
The conditions were so rare that the database showed exactly zero locations within the Hallow Empire's territory.
"Let me guess," Tanya said, expanding the search to include contested space. "The nearest source is somewhere politically complicated."
The database highlighted a system in the Disputed Zones. The unstable border regions where the five great powers' territories overlapped, and nobody quite agreed on jurisdiction. A white dwarf designated TK-847 with a supergiant gas planet in close orbit.
"Contested territory," Tanya confirmed, reading the political annotations. "Claimed by both the Republic and the Collective, actually controlled by neither, occasionally patrolled by everyone. Perfect."
//Retrieving fuel was likely easier back when the ship was last active.// Sage observed.
"Right. Speaking of which—" Tanya pulled up the ship's drone manifest. "The database mentions harvesting drones designed specifically for anti-iron collection. Where are they stored?"
The ship's internal map highlighted a cargo bay near the engineering sections. Tanya made her way through corridors that still smelled faintly of vacuum and old metal, following the route her tablet displayed.
The drone storage bay was larger than she'd expected, with racks designed to hold hundreds of units. Most stood empty, either deployed and never recovered or salvaged for parts centuries ago. But a dozen remained, secured in their cradles like sleeping birds.
Tanya approached the nearest drone, running her multitool scanner over its surface.
The design was elegant in a way that made her appreciate the craft involved. Teardrop-shaped, no more than two cubic meters, constructed from material that made her scanner readings spike with recognition.
"This is the same stuff," she said, cross-referencing the data. "The alien reactive material from the rogue planet. Element 126 composite with self-healing properties."
//Correct,// Sage confirmed. //The material's ability to maintain structural integrity under extreme stress makes it ideal for atmospheric entry into supergiant environments. The harvesting drones were designed to dive into conditions that would destroy conventional craft.//
Tanya studied the drone more closely. No visible thrusters, no obvious control surfaces. The entire shell seemed to be made from the reactive material, which suggested it could reshape itself as needed. Sophisticated, adaptable, and currently completely inert.
She tried powering it up through the Genesis's systems. Nothing happened.
"Command interface not responding," she reported, checking connections. "The drone has power, but the control crystals aren't accepting instructions.
Using her authorisation code she opened an access panel, an iris slowly opened, revealing the crystalline matrices that served as the drone's brain and control system. They looked intact with no visible damage or degradation, but her scanner showed zero activity when she sent test signals.
"Crystal programming failure," Tanya muttered. "Of course it is."
She pulled up what documentation she had on the drone systems. The crystals were supposed to respond to specific frequency patterns, accepting commands and executing operations through structures she only partially understood.
This was Cameron's specialty. He'd spent years studying crystalline systems, understanding their quirks and limitations. She could ask him to come help, send him the data, and get expert assistance within a few days.
But Tanya hesitated. She'd been relying on Cameron for crystal technology problems since they'd met. Using his expertise when she needed it, letting him handle the complexity while she focused on other aspects of ship design.
That approach had limits. If she wanted to be a true shipwright and someone who understood systems at every level, rather than just coordinating specialists, she needed to tackle problems outside her comfort zone.
"Sage," she said, "can you guide me through reprogramming these crystals?"
//I could,// Sage replied. //However, I will not.//
Tanya blinked. "What? Why not?"
//Because you already possess the knowledge required to solve this problem. You simply need to remember what you've learned and apply it creatively. This is a valuable educational experience.//
"You're seriously pulling the 'figure it out yourself' teaching method right now?"
She should have known it was coming, but Sage had been more forthcoming lately, so she was hoping it would continue.
//Yes. You've studied crystal technology extensively. You've observed Cameron working with crystalline matrices. You've even enhanced materials at the quantum level using instinctive understanding of resonance patterns. Everything you need is already in your mind… You simply haven't connected the pieces yet.//
Tanya wanted to argue, but she recognised the truth in Sage's assessment. This wasn't about lacking information; it was about lacking confidence to apply what she knew.
"Fine," she said, settling in front of the drone with her tools and scanner. "Let's figure this out the hard way."
She started with the basics, reviewing everything she knew about crystal technology. The matrices stored information through structural patterns with precise arrangements of atoms and molecules that created specific resonance frequencies. Commands were transmitted through electromagnetic signals at exact frequencies, like playing specific notes on an instrument.
That metaphor stuck with her. Music theory. Crystals respond to pitch, tone, and frequency.
She'd studied music briefly in high school like all the students on Eden-Five. The principles were similar: harmony and dissonance, resonance and interference, patterns that built on each other to create complex structures.
The first day, she tried brute force approaches. Scanning the crystals for their natural frequencies, attempting to match them with standard programming signals. Nothing worked. The crystals remained stubbornly inert, refusing to acknowledge her attempts at communication.
The second day, she shifted strategies. If the crystals were like instruments, maybe they needed tuning before they could play. She examined the physical structure more carefully, looking for signs of degradation or misalignment at the molecular level.
There were subtle distortions in the crystalline matrix. Not damage exactly, but drift. Two centuries of sitting dormant had allowed the precise atomic arrangements to shift slightly, changing their resonance characteristics just enough to make them unresponsive to standard frequencies.
"You're out of tune," she told the crystal, feeling oddly satisfied by the diagnosis. "Like a piano that's been sitting in storage for two hundred years."
She spent the third day developing a tuning protocol. If she could identify the crystal's current resonance frequencies and map them against what the programming expected, she could create translation algorithms changing the currently programmed inputs into something the crystal could understand despite its shifted state.
The work was painstaking. Each crystalline node had to be analysed individually, its actual frequency mapped against theoretical values, corrections calculated and tested. She felt like she was learning a new language by analysing how words had drifted from their original pronunciation over centuries.
On the fourth day, she had a breakthrough. The first crystal showed signs of a response to a command.It wasn't quite right yet, but she was on the correct track.
The algorithm took hours to design and test. She drew on everything she'd learned. Finally, as Eden-Five's sun was setting millions of kilometers away and she'd been working for nearly thirty-six hours straight, she uploaded the tuning sequence into the drone controller.
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then the crystals began to glow, faint at first, then stronger. The light pulsed in patterns that seemed almost musical, each node finding its frequency and synchronising with its neighbours. The resonance built, harmonics reinforcing each other, until the entire setup was vibrating with coordinated activity.
The drone's systems came online. Status indicators flickered to life. The teardrop shape shifted slightly, responsive surfaces testing their range of motion.
"It worked," Tanya breathed, then louder with genuine triumph: "It actually worked!"
//Well done,// Sage said, approval clear in his tone.
Tanya laughed, exhaustion and elation mixing together. "You knew I could do it the whole time, didn't you?"
//I suspected. But suspicion and certainty are different things. You needed to discover your own capability rather than simply being told it existed.//
She ran diagnostics on the drone, verifying that all systems were functioning properly. The tuning algorithm had worked even better than she'd hoped, as the crystal network was now actually more stable, having found an equilibrium optimised for its current physical state.
"I could apply this to the other crystal systems," she said.
//Correct. And more importantly, you've developed a technique applicable to any aged crystalline system. This knowledge transfers to vortex drives, sensor arrays, any technology using crystal matrices that have drifted from original specifications.//
Tanya hadn't considered the full extent of the applications, but Sage was right. She'd just solved a problem that affected every piece of old technology they might encounter. Crystal systems that had been sitting dormant for centuries could potentially be restored using variants of her tuning algorithm.
"So now I can harvest anti-iron," she said, bringing her focus back to the immediate challenge. "Which means convincing these drones to dive into a supergiant gas planet in contested space and return with fuel. What could possibly go wrong?"
//Statistically? Many things. However, that is tomorrow's problem. Today's problem has been solved admirably Vital signs suggest you need to sleep.//
Tanya looked at the awakened drone, its crystalline systems glowing with restored purpose. One problem solved through stubbornness and sleep deprivation.
She'd relied on Cameron less. Trusted her own capabilities more. And gained techniques that would serve her for years to come.
Not bad for four days of frustration.
"Alright," she said, saving her tuning algorithm and preparing to replicate it across the remaining drones. "Let's wake up the rest of the fleet. We've got fuel to steal from one of the most dangerous environments in human space."