Chapter 5: Corridor

Mission Briefing: Branded as traitors and hunted by Ares’ death squads, the Ghost Squad fights a blistering corridor-to-corridor retreat through explosive fire toward the escape shuttle.

Falck hit the deck hard, rolling to dissipate the impact. His shoulder screamed in protest—the same one he'd dislocated earlier. They'd landed in a maintenance bay adjacent to the hangar, separated by a maze of corridors.

"Move! Move!" Ace hauled him to his feet, her grip iron-strong. "They'll be coming through any second!"

Terror had already taken position behind a support beam, his heavy rifle trained on the hole they'd just escaped through. Cipher crouched beside him, fingers flying over his wrist interface.

"We need to reach the hangar!" Falck shouted over the alarms. "Our Cores are there!"

They sprinted through the narrow corridor, emergency lights casting erratic shadows. Behind them, the sound of boots on metal—the Obsidian Guard had followed them through the breach.

"Left here!" Cipher called out, his scanner showing the ship's layout. "The hangar's just ahead!"

Laser fire seared past them, scorching the walls. Terror spun, laying down suppressing fire. "Keep moving! I'll slow them down!"

They burst through the hangar's side entrance just as Terror's grenade detonated in the corridor behind them, buying precious seconds.

"I'm activating our Cores!" Cipher shouted, his neural interface connecting to the hangar's systems. "Ghost Squad units responding—twenty seconds to combat ready!"

Across the hangar, their Robot Cores came alive—Ace's sleek reconnaissance unit, Terror's heavy assault frame, and Cipher's modified tech-warfare Core. But Cipher didn't stop there. His eyes gleamed as data streams flowed through his consciousness.

"I'm also commandeering these," he said, hijacking three additional Neo Helsinki Robot Cores that had been stationed in the hangar for repairs. They jerked to life, their movements slightly erratic but functional under Cipher's remote control.

The first Obsidian Guard dropped through the breach, rifle already firing. Terror's return fire caught him mid-fall, sending him crashing to the deck. Two more followed, then four, then a steady stream of black-armored soldiers.

"Cores, engage!" Cipher commanded.

The pilotless Robot Cores opened fire with their mounted weapons, forcing the Obsidian Guard to scatter. Explosions bloomed across the hangar as missiles and energy beams crisscrossed the space. One Core advanced, using its massive frame as a shield while the team sprinted for the shuttle.

"Hangar doors are locked!" Ace called from the shuttle's ramp. "We need them open or we're not going anywhere!"

Falck felt that presence surge in his mind—not quite Dire Wulf, but something using his protocols, his problem-solving patterns. His hand moved to a wall panel without conscious thought, fingers inputting an override code he shouldn't have known.

Kela'thy… The alien whisper came again, fainter this time, as if approving.

The massive hangar doors groaned and began to separate, revealing the star-field beyond. Immediately, atmosphere began venting, creating a hurricane of escaping air.

"Mag-locks, now!" Terror shouted.

They activated their boots' magnetic locks just as the decompression tried to tear them from the deck. Several Obsidian Guard weren't as quick, their bodies tumbling helplessly toward the void.

Rom and Rem dropped through the breach in perfect synchronization, their heavier armor keeping them anchored. They moved toward the shuttle with mechanical precision, laying down devastating fire that forced Terror to duck.

"Cores, priority targets!" Cipher commanded.

Two of the Robot Cores converged on the twins, their heavier weapons finally giving the team the cover they needed. Falck hauled Terror up the shuttle's ramp while Ace initiated the launch sequence.

"Cipher, get those Cores to buy us time and get in here!" Falck ordered.

The young hacker's face was pale with concentration. "They're taking heavy damage. I can maybe—"

An explosion rocked the hangar as one of the Cores detonated, its Soul Prism overloading. The shockwave knocked Rom off his feet, giving them precious seconds.

"Now, Cipher!"

He broke the connection and sprinted up the ramp, displaying the kind of sisu that Neo Helsinki had bred into its people—determination in the face of impossible odds. Ace was already lifting off, the shuttle's engines screaming. Through the closing ramp, Falck saw the remaining Robot Cores making their last stand, keeping the Obsidian Guard pinned as the shuttle accelerated toward the open hangar doors.

They shot out into space, the sudden silence after the chaos almost deafening. Ace banked hard, putting distance between them and the massive battlecruiser. Falck moved to the cockpit, expecting to see turbolaser fire following them.

Nothing.

The Manala hung silent in space, its weapon systems dark.

"Why aren't they firing?" Terror asked, crowding in behind them.

Cipher checked his scanners. "Their targeting systems are online. Weapons are charged. They're just… not engaging."

Through the viewport, Falck could see the battlecruiser's bridge. A lone figure stood silhouetted against the lights—Ares, watching them go.

"He's letting us leave," Ace said, disbelief coloring her voice. "Why?"

Falck stared at the distant figure, the man who'd orchestrated so much death and suffering. The presence in his mind pulsed with unease.

"I don't know," Falck said quietly. "Maybe he doesn't think we're worth the ammunition. Maybe it's something else."

Cipher clutched the data module closer, keeping it hidden beneath his armor. "Or maybe he doesn't know what we took," he whispered, careful to keep his voice low even though they were far from the Manala's sensors.

"Whatever the reason," Terror muttered, "we're not complaining."

But Falck couldn't shake his unease. Ares never did anything without purpose. This felt wrong, incomplete—like they were missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

The red planet grew larger in the viewport, its dusty surface a welcome sight after the sterile corridors of the Manala. But the data module hidden in Cipher's armor weighed on them all—proof of humanity's greatest crime, powered by the souls of the dead.

"Set course for New Helsinki," Falck ordered quietly. "We need to report to my mother—Commander Dura. And figure out what Ares is really planning."

As Mars filled their vision, the NHS Manala remained motionless among the stars, its turbolasers silent as a grave.