Last chapter. The Heaven's Wing

Head to C5

Douklan moves to flank the door to C5, supporting Mercer as he (attempts to) opens it.

As Corbin follows the others he muses, "I wonder if we should turn off the life support..."

Hank stops dead in his tracks upon hearing that comment.

"That is a sheer brilliant idea! Even better if we can leave the opportunity to cycle it back!"

At this point, he would like for the group to go back to the computer to see if it is even an option.

As Mercer pushed the door open, Douklan moved swiftly to his side, covering the entrance with his weapon raised. The room beyond was small and utilitarian, lined with maintenance panels and clusters of thick conduit running along the walls. A couple of computer terminals hummed softly, their screens casting a faint glow.

Hank wasted no time moving to the console in this room, fingers flying across the interface as he worked to bypass its security. The terminal was connected to the station’s life support systems, but as he delved deeper, a frown crossed his face.

The machines responsible for atmospheric regulation, temperature control, and circulation weren’t networked together. Each system operated independently, designed with redundancy to prevent catastrophic failure. A full shutdown wouldn’t be as simple as executing a command—it would require disabling each unit manually.

Further examination revealed an automated boot-up sequence in place. If the life support detected a failure, it would attempt to restart itself after a set period. To make it last, they’d need to find a way to either disable the restart protocols or manually power down multiple units before the system could recover.

Hank exhaled sharply. If this was the control station for the machine on this side of the corridor, there was a good chance another terminal existed on the other side of the corridor. The redundancy suggested that to fully disable life support in this part of the station, they would need access to both.

"Can you get a reading on carbon dioxide levels?" Douklan asks, moving to check the door at C7. "That might give us an indication of where survivors on the station might be, and how many people might be affected by turning off the life support."

"Remember, if we shut down life support, we're on a clock, we had better be sure we know what we're doing." Mercer sighs and looks around, "I'd really like to find a gravsled or something before we find the parts. I want to be able to move quickly. "
Mercer will keep looking around. There's too much unknown space here and too much outside the norm of even a dangerous mission like this. He will head to C7.

The station’s automated systems were clearly working to maintain the atmosphere, but the details were dense—far too technical for Hank to decipher completely. From what he could tell, carbon dioxide levels weren’t dangerously high, but they weren’t exactly stable either. Corbin would probably be able to extract more meaningful insights from this, but the key takeaway was clear—the life support machines were still active, maintaining breathable air for someone.

---

Meanwhile, Mercer and Douklan stepped into the corridor, their visors automatically adjusting to the dim lighting. The lockers to their left right stood dented and scratched, but it was the open freshers/bathroom door that immediately seized their attention.

Murky water covered most of the floor, a dark, stagnant pool that lapped lazily against the northern walls. The drains were clogged, allowing the liquid to stagnate, thick with filth and decay. Even through their sealed suits, they could imagine the stench clawing out of it. The flickering emergency light above cast shifting shadows over the pool, occasionally revealing something bloated and still beneath.

Two bodies.

One was face-down, its skin pale and bloated from long exposure, tattered clothing barely clinging to its form. The other was slumped against the far wall, missing both arms. The torn flesh at the shoulders was jagged, uneven, as though something had chewed through the limbs rather than cut them away. Deep gashes lined the torso, exposing ribs where strips of meat had been peeled away.

The water around them was thick, carrying a greasy sheen that suggested decomposition had since set in. Whatever had done this wasn’t just killing—it had fed. And it might still be nearby.

"Two people - dead. Killed pretty horribly, like something, uh...gnawed their arms off." Douklan reports to the others via suit comm. "Judging by the state of the bodies, this was probably days ago. But it may mean that we have more than just rabid dogs to worry about." He considers for a moment. "Unless they're really BIG dogs, I guess."

Well it actually wouldn't e impossible for it to be the dogs l, all it would take is.... Well, nevermind, it would be possible, it we will keep a lookout for unknown threats. Too much unknown here. Then he lets the others know, Possible contaminants bodies found. Could we get a test on this water before we move on?

"With everything going on, a heart attack is unsurprising, but it makes me more cautious of the possible contaminants."
Mercer will be switching between the internal air and air cycling of his suit as needed whenever getting to a new place. Trying to avoid a surprise gas-filled chamber or something. So internal tanks until he knows it is clear.
Checking B3. Shield on, weapon ready, Mercer taking point.

"Dr., in your opinion, are those tears just from something ripping strips off one by one, or could they be from a tear from a paw with claws? You know, like a bear or something? I'm trying to get a sense of what we can expect to find: some great big beast, some smaller, really determined monster, or a pack of these rabid dogs..."

Knowing he is best serving by staying out of the way, Hank is helping with vanguard action to make sure nothing is coming up behind us. Don't want any nasty surprises!

Corbin stays near Hank and follows the others. He's only half listening to the conversation as he keeps scanning for any dangers as they move on in the search.

As Mercer pressed the door control, the panel chirped, and the reinforced lock disengaged with a heavy thunk. The door slid open with a faint hiss, revealing a dimly lit office beyond.

The moment his boot crossed the threshold, the silence was shattered.

A loud, blaring claxon erupted from unseen speakers, the sound ricocheting off the metal walls in an earsplitting wail. Red emergency lights flared to life, bathing the room in a pulsing crimson glow. The alarm was sharp, urgent—an automated response to their intrusion.

Mercer froze for a split second, scanning the room as the others pressed forward behind him. Desks were overturned, chairs knocked askew, and shattered data tablets littered the floor. Paper-thin displays flickered weakly on the walls, some glitching between garbled readouts and static. A ceiling panel had been torn loose, its wiring dangling like exposed nerves.

"That can’t be good," Erin muttered, her voice barely audible over the relentless wail of the alarm.

From deeper in the station, something let out a distant, answering sound. A metallic clang, a scuttling noise—something had heard them. And now, it was moving.