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Hunted travellers of time

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Dark space, the void between galaxies were only a few stars travelled the immense distances between. An ocean of blackness where the few stars all around were distant galaxies, that only could be seen in infrared. Seemingly an eternity of blackness.
A white vortex rips its way into being, the swirling maelstrom is the end of a wormhole that vomits a bishop ring megastructure before collapsing into a burst of light. The structure is huge, the size of a small planet. A wide ring of metal with a disc of metal to reflect light down upon each side. On the inner side of the ring is land, ocean and atmosphere maintained by its revolving as much as the 20km high walls on each side of the ring.
A wrecked control room of floating rods and holographic displays in the infrared bandwidth. The telepathic interface had exploded, a mass of wires and organic parts scattered over most of the room. Invisible from sight the IR displays showed the station was slowing its revolving cycle and needed attention.
The Heptapod creature that stood as high as the vaulted ceiling used its tentacles to lift a vorlon. As the timelord helped up the beetle Yith.
"Far enough?" said the vorlon.
"Yes" said the Heptapod.
The timelord spat a curse as he hefted the beetle to a seat and the Heptapod helped him with its tentacles. A power cable fell from above, sparking as it discharged into the floor.
"I am thankful for stone floors" said the timelord and beetle chuckled in its clattering mandible way.
"Status and rectify" bellowed the Heptapod, both asking and telling the machine.
The IR display changed to show issues and begin repairs from automated backup systems. The station rotation began increasing in its rate of momentum. But warning signs were struggling with the immense engines used to make wormholes.
"Looks like we're stuck" said the Yith in its clattering noise.
"Offline" said the vorlon.
"Then restart the engine" bellowed the cephalopod.
The Timelord and Yith beetle typed into the consoles and began the shutdown sequence.
"Doesn't look like we're going anywhere, for a while too. The pattern detectors in time aren't responding nor are the topology maps from navigation. We hop and we could emerge inside a blackhole" said the Timelord.
"Survivors?" asked the vorlon.
"Detecting 8900 vorlon, 140 heptapods, 4000 timelords and 8000 yith" said the beetle.
"Hounds of Tindalos must be expunged?" said the Heptapod.
"Checking...no hounds detected!" said the Timelord "Dispatching repair crews but we've precious little engineers among them. Separating them out among civilians so they can assist them."
"Spare a few...need life support" said the Vorlon starting to move the rods again.
"Enrolling crew from one of the docked ships, they're coming to command to replace our losses" said the Timelord.
"Best be no agents of the Hand among them" clattered the yith beetle.