500 years later in another section of space.
"Sir! Our engines can't hold on for long. We're losing power and The Hope has already fallen into the black hole. Foundation and Sanctuary are all that's left. What do we do?" The Executive officer complained.
They had been stuck on the ergosphere for hours now. From what his officers told him, this was the best place to escape from their enemies. The very edge of a black hole wasn't dangerous per say but given enough time it can certainly affect any ship.
To make matters worse, their colony ships were forced to abandon their original star system after encountering an alien invasion from multiple Earth-Immortals.
They weren't exactly in the best shape.
Losing the Hope was the worst news they could've received.
The Hope was the ship that carried the best and the brightest. Their best scientists, soldiers, mechanics and engineers were all gone because one warship wanted to chase after them for glory.
Jokes on them.
The moment they get back to home their empire will have already forgotten about them.
The moment they realized they were in a severe time dilation it was already too late. Roughly 10,000 years will have passed for their empire.
Unfortunately, by the time they left it was already too late for the both of them.
Hope was gone.
Both figuratively and metaphorically.
After a few minutes of waiting the First Officer spoke up.
"I'm going out there to fix the engine. Just tell me what to do."
The First Officer was a complex man. After becoming an Earth-Immortal at 300 years old he had a lifetime to think about his career path. Of course this was all before the alien invasion.
As a son of his Kaisar it was his duty to strive for the best.
He might have been the 12th son and his government may vote on leadership based on votes but as a son of the Kaisar he felt he was obligated to be the best despite being a cat Beast-kin.
His people weren't the most well respected but fortunately he was lucky enough to be born as a Bombay cat-kin instead of a Siamese one. So his father was able to win the people's vote by a hair.
Sadly he died like all the others, leaving his youngest and most diligent son to lead all beast-kin to a new home.
"Sir, you can't! You're the only Earth-Immortal left! If we lose you we'll be stuck on a planet without any champions or a way forward! Let us go!"
His First Executive was adamant that he would fix the engine. They had a few more engineers but they were too weak to bear the pressure of a black hole trying to pull them in.
Only a dragon-rank could go out there, but the First Officer didn't like that either.
They only had at most 400 Dragon-ranks left. Sure if some of them died in their new world they could have more but it just wasn't worth it.
"No, the risk is too high. I'm going and that's final."
The First Executive sighed in frustration before he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You have always been a good friend to me Frank, but this is my burden to bear. If I don't get back, find a new world for us to live in. Alright?"
"This isn't goodbye Tom. You'll get back safe and sound. I know it."
Tom just nodded his head and headed out the combat hatch.
This hatch was reserved for any cultivators ready to head out to battle at a moment's notice.
Who would've thought the first time it would be used was to save lives, not take them?
Just before he left Frank gave him a small warning.
"Tom, we don't know what the effect will have on you. If you get too far from the ship you might experience a distortion in time. Hopefully it'll only be a few years at most but you can never be too safe."
"Don't let go of the hull. Got it."
Tom flipped the switch and the air immediately got sucked out into space. Not that it moved Tom any.
Just about every Earth-Immortal has the ability to control their bodies through psionic power. This allows them to fly or stay in motion at all times.
As soon as he stepped out of the hatch he could see the mighty black hole in all its glory.
Even with all his strength he could feel the pull of the black hole. What's scary is that this isn't even the worst it can do.
'I need to concentrate. All I have to do is drift slowly while matching the pace of the ship... If only we built some kind of ladder.'
Sadly the only kind of ladder won't be available for another 5000 meters.
As a newly created colony ship the Hope wasn't designed with time on its side. A ship like this should've taken 30 years to build, not 3!
The Foundation was the only ship that was made with all the right parts, resources and time on its side. Its purpose is for terraforming and it was solely meant for a single planet.
Sadly the beast-men weren't the only race that was interested in a particular planet. The only difference was that the beast-men were basically primitive savages in comparison.
With nothing but 8 star systems under their control and not even fully built, it was no wonder they were the first to get wiped out.
After thinking about his people's past he thought about speeding up so he could get to the ship engine faster.
Just as he remembered Frank's warning about over-shotting…
The moment he were to let go of his concentration was the moment he'd find himself staring at the ship in the distance like it was a speck of dust.
There are far too many things that could go wrong on this journey. He didn't want to risk anything.
.....
6 hours later Tom found himself at 5000 meters. Right at the ladders.
As soon as he grabbed hold of one he immediately felt a sense of relief. The feeling of floating in space for 6 straight hours can drive anyone insane. Fortunately he had the constant feeling of being dragged to his inevitable doom to help him concentrate.
He could practically feel his soul vibrate.
He also noticed something else while drifting in space.
'There's so much qi I could cultivate for hours. There's enough spiritual energy out here to make the entire crew into Earth-Immortals!'
As much as he wanted to race to the closest hatch and let them know he had a job to do, and it wouldn't benefit them anytime soon anyway.
After crawling his way over to the engine he finally found the issue and made sure to send plenty of snapshots on his comm and uploaded the photos to the closest terminal.
After a few more minutes he received his instructions.
The coupling on the engine nozzle had come undone, and the only way to prevent it from destroying the other engines was to turn it off. Thankfully they had at least one failsafe.
After a few minutes he received his instructions on comms after connecting a cord to the hull's communication module.
It was just as he expected.
He needed to reattach the coupling but the only way to do that was to lift a 500 ton rocket under the pressure of a black hole making it around 10,000 tons of pressure that may or may not turn back on as soon as it's put back in its place.
'Easy enough.'