Rake beat him to the punch, letting out a disbelieving scoff. “You think these stations are pulling in the Divide? That they weaponized the edge of the universe?”
“Well, clearly not, because it is off,” Mesa replied frankly, “and the Divide is still collapsing.”
“Wait, back up,” Cavalon said. “What are we talking about here?”
Mesa drew up her posture and gave a curt nod. “I do not believe that this station is a gravity generator, but instead, a dark-energy generator.”
Cavalon shook his head. He’d studied gravity generators in their many forms in great detail, but he’d never heard of anything that could create the opposing force. “Is that … a thing?” he asked, trying for a level tone, but it still carried with it a strong vein of skepticism.
“In the original Viator War,” Mesa began, “Viator forces utilized a form of planetary defense involving the subtle manipulation of dark energy. They called them Carthen Shields.”
“I’ve heard of those,” Griffith said, exchanging a knowing look with Rake, who nodded in recognition as well. It seemed Cavalon was the one in the dark on this one. “They called them AGPs—anti-grav pulse stations,” Griffith continued. “But we never encountered one in the Resurgence War, that I know of.”
Mesa nodded. “It is very complex technology, on par with the Apollo Gates. We do not understand it at all.”
“Anti-grav, meaning dark energy?” Cavalon asked.
“Correct. A misnomer, absolutely,” Mesa said curtly, though she immediately traded in her disdain at whoever had coined the term, reverting to her cautious, yet excited state. “It would either collect or manifest dark energy, we have never been certain which, then insert it elsewhere. In the case of the planetary defense system, it would infuse the force into the upper atmosphere and create a buffer of sorts around the planet. Focused, directional versions also existed. They had made attempts at weaponizing it, though I am not aware of any success in that regard.”
Cavalon rubbed the back of his neck through his suit. “What kind of buffer?”
“It’d keep enemy vessels at bay for longer,” Rake answered. “It basically expanded the amount of empty space between the device and incoming ships. It couldn’t produce enough to stop them entirely, but it would slow their trajectory.”
“Oh,” Cavalon said. It’d started to click, slowly. “So, it actually bloated space, in a sense? Made it take longer to get somewhere?”
“Correct,” Mesa said. “Though as I said, on a very small scale. A ship caught in it might have taken ten or fifteen minutes longer to breach the exosphere of a planet.”
“How…” he began, but his voice faded away. He didn’t know where to start with the list of questions this concept generated.
Mesa shook her head. “We are not sure how it functioned. And it was not utilized often, only when extreme measures were called for. A ‘last-ditch effort,’ as they say.”
“Why?” Cavalon asked.
“It took an enormous amount of energy to power,” Mesa said. “So it was difficult to utilize at outposts or on planets where they did not already have a strong foothold. Also, the repercussions often outweighed the little leeway it would grant them. It interfered with ship systems, scanners, communications. Personnel reported strange accounts, both planetside and in the area of effect.”
“Strange accounts?” Rake asked. “Like what?”
“Physical pressure on one’s internal organs, as if being com pacted or pulled apart. A myriad of psychological effects, such as feelings of complacency or unrest. Dreams that occurred out of time. Difficulty hearing—”
“Wait,” Rake said. “Dreams out of time?”