Last chapter. The Heaven's Wing

A litany of curses runs through Corbin's mind as he sets to powering down this mess.

While Corbin slipped deeper into the lab towards the engineering bay, Mercer ducked into an auxiliary terminal alcove. A standard-issue workstation blinked in standby, the screen flickering softly like it was still waiting for someone to return from their lunch break weeks or months ago.

He sat down, pulled up a seat, and started going through the system. No hacking, no clever backdoors—just good old-fashioned navigation and search queries.

Most of the directories were what you'd expect: logs of supply deliveries, shift rotations, updates on personnel hygiene protocols. He scrolled through with a detached rhythm, eyes scanning for keywords—Heaven’s Wing, experimental systems, psionics, anything unusual.

Nothing.

But a handful of folders were locked down, encrypted on a deep technical level and clearly protected. When he tried to open one, the screen pinged and a clean window appeared:

ACCESS DENIED
Credentials required. Please enter authorized user ID and security code.

If Mercer asks for help, Hank will gladly help him. (If he doesn't ask, I'm not sure Hank knows what he is working on.) On the other hand, if he doesn't help Mercer, he will look through the system to see if there is any way to shut things down from the control systems, rather than purely relying on Corbin dismantling things.

Also, Hank is worried about something. "While it looked like the last group of Ryans came through the portal, are we sure of that? Is there anything else that could be summoning them?"

Mercer would talk about what he is doing.
But he will probably load that whole computer terminals/tower into the grav-sled, unless someone confirms whether or not it has blueprints or records.
Plus he will take another patch if it is an option.

"I don't like the idea of splitting up when these ghosts can appear anywhere," Douklan informs the others. "I'm going to check in with Corbin and watch his back. I'll update you on what he's found via comms." Having said this, Douklan proceeds to the Engineering Bay.

Working side by side, Mercer and Hank got to work at the main lab terminal. Hank bypassed the layers of system security, disabling the safeguards and encryptions with surgical precision—he’d done this sort of thing too many times now to hesitate.

"Alright," he said, tapping a few final keys. "Terminal’s wide open. You’re good to go."

Mercer plugged in the storage unit and initiated a full blind dump—no sorting, no filtering, just raw data. Lights flickered briefly as massive amounts of compressed files flowed through the system. The progress bar shot forward steadily.

The dump completed with a low beep. Mercer yanked the connection. "Alright. Everything this lab had is in here." He gave the hardened storage unit a pat. "Let’s hope it was worth it."

Douklan picked up the pace, passing signs of power rerouting and reinforced bulkheads until he reached the threshold of Engineering.

Inside, he found Corbin crouched beside a large housing rig—cables draped around him like a nest of mechanical snakes. The man looked about one more insult away from launching a laser shot at the walls out of spite.

---

A litany of silent curses ran through Corbin’s mind as he worked, fingers greasy with synth-lubricant and sweat. The power generator had been welded, spliced, and jury-rigged in a hundred subtle ways into the station’s core systems. The original ship component was here—but it was part of the station now, like trying to rip a heart from a living body.

Corbin didn’t look up when Douklan stepped in—just grunted and kept working, muttering under his breath at the absurd wiring job. "Whoever patched this in should be shot and spaced."

"I figured you could use a second set of eyes—and maybe a second set of hands," Douklan said, moving closer and setting his rifle down carefully within reach. "I’ll keep a lookout while I help."

Corbin gave him a quick nod of appreciation. "Good. You see that junction over there? Help me isolate it. That’s the feedback loop tying the lab’s draw into the ship's original power core."

As Douklan knelt beside him, he kept glancing toward the entrance—eyes sharp, ears tuned for anything unnatural. With Corbin guiding the technical work and Douklan assisting where needed while keeping alert, the two of them set into the process with tense, efficient focus. The job was far from quick, but with teamwork, it was no longer a one-man crawl through a nightmare.

Should we all settle in by Douklan and Corbin? I don't like the idea of dealing with more of those things with less of us?

Hank agrees to see if we can do a barricade. However, with one turn left, Hank will want both of them to fall back with Corbin and Douklan. They are our best riflemen, so we're probably better off together.

Also, do we have any explosives? I remember Mercer wanting them before. Do we have any?

Hank and Mercer made their way swiftly back to Engineering. Inside, Corbin and Douklan were still hard at work, buried in cables, tools scattered around them like shrapnel from a quiet war. The room buzzed with the muted whine of energy being redirected, rerouted, unwound.

Mercer took up a defensive position near the doorway, setting down a few crates to create quick cover. Hank nodded, already dragging a nearby equipment cart into position to help block one of the other corridors.

Moments later, Erin and Maya arrived—Erin leaning on Maya’s shoulder, still pale and stiff from the earlier injuries. Maya helped her settle down behind cover, quickly checking the remaining doses of medi-gel and Lift, frowning as she counted.

"Not much left," she muttered, then looked up at the others. "Let’s not need it."

As the team locked down their position, barricading the engineering bay as best they could with crates, consoles, explosives and whatever they could find, the sound of tools and dismantled metal filled the background. The plan was simple: hold the line, protect Corbin and Douklan, and finish this.

The gate wouldn’t stay dormant forever.

---

Turns until the next wave:
Disassembly:

"What do you think will happen to these ghosts when we shut down the gate?" Douklan wonders as he continues methodically decoupling connectors. "Assuming they have anything to do with each other..."

"I have no idea. Honestly, we are making a big assumption that they are related. They may not be. Or they could be only partly related. We just don't know. At this point, when we get it shut down, I should be able to feel if we are on a timer again. Until then, it is just a logical assumption and a hope."

A sharp crack of displacement echoed down the hall like a rifle shot, and everyone in the engineering bay froze. Then came another—sharper, closer.

Hank's eyes snapped toward the southern corridor. "They’re back," he said, tension coiling in his voice. Within moments, flickering shadows congealed into sickeningly familiar shapes—two of them. Ryans. All identical. All wrong. Their cold, blank eyes glowed faintly, psionic energy sparking like static around their forms.

A second echo came from the opposite end.

"North corridor!" Douklan barked, already moving toward cover, rifle raised.

Three more Ryans stepped from the shadows there, walking in perfect unison, as if mirrored by some dark intelligence.