Mars – Halcyon Dome, Sub-Deck 9[Timestamp: 2 days after the infiltration attempt]
The silence beneath Halcyon Dome was a rare thing.
Above, the great silver hemisphere pulsed with light again, its regenerative filaments reweaving damaged layers. But down here—beneath it all—there was only the quiet scrape of boots against metal, the low thrum of rebuilding systems, and the occasional burst of sparks as repairs continued.
Julian had built this place not just as a forward base, but as a sanctuary. Every corridor reflected that—minimalist architecture with flowing crystal patterns and adaptive walls that dimmed or shifted temperature based on the occupant's needs.
And now, his team was treating it like a war hospital.
Mina's Reflection
Mina sat in the core diagnostics chamber, hunched over a half-fried holo-array. Her gloves were scorched. Her braid was frayed at the ends. She hadn't slept more than two hours in days.
But her mind was alight.
"That infiltration was too well timed," she muttered. "Too surgical."
Julian's after-action AI assistant, "Vox," floated beside her, a low-humming orb with a blue flicker.
"Probability of insider data leakage: 61.8%."
Mina's jaw clenched. "We have a traitor or a cracked node."
She shifted her focus to the Neuron Tree's secondary root systems, now being rerouted through organic backup arrays Julian had designed in secret—a blend of Martian fungal bio-wires and liquid crystal tubes.
"He knew even Halcyon would be breached someday…"
Julian had always been two moves ahead.
Julian's Systems within the Dome
In the deeper sections, Thale and Ossa (the reformed mercenary turned loyal engineer) worked on the drone gantries and orbital relay coils.
"You see this?" Thale pointed to a schematic etched on the inside of a damaged conduit.
"Julian left layered defense sketches hidden behind armor plating. Like a paranoid oracle."
"Not paranoid," Ossa replied, "just smarter than the rest of us."
They discovered:
An unused stealth tunnel leading directly from Halcyon to the lava tubes beneath the Martian crust
A power plant running on a rare isotope not found in Earth registries
And uncompiled AI routines labeled only: PROTOCOL NEMESIS—ACTIVATE ONLY IF I AM DEAD
Each finding made them more certain: Julian was alive in more ways than one.
Science with Purpose – Julian's Chemistry Hack
At one point, the team hit a problem.
A key section of the dome's internal atmosphere regulators had melted due to the electromagnetic feedback. Without replacement parts from Earth—which would take weeks—they needed an immediate fix.
That's when Mina remembered a chemistry trick Julian had used during their early prototype days:
"Remember the sodium bicarbonate-nitrogen sealant hybrid?"
They used:
Crushed Martian basalt (to trap heat)
CO₂ extracted from the Martian atmosphere
A slurry of water, baking soda, and trace nitrogen scavenged from Julian's emergency rations
When combined and catalyzed with heat from a fusion torch, it expanded rapidly into a flexible insulator, perfect for sealing gas leaks under pressure.
"It hardens in under 90 seconds and breathes like kevlar foam," Mina said proudly.
Sometimes, genius came from a kitchen cupboard.
The Planning Table – Julian's Team Assembles
Inside the Strategic Navigation Chamber, the team gathered around the starmap—now glowing with new routes thanks to the recovered alien data crystal.
Projected routes led to:
A migratory wormhole looping through Saturn's moons
A derelict relay satellite once used by the Hollowed Kin
A neural imprint field orbiting a dead star cluster known as The Oath Line
Mina took lead.
"We've got two weeks until the launch vessel is ready."
"And we have less time than that before Earth's proxies try again."
Thale nodded. "So we pick one of the routes now."
Ossa tapped the Hollowed Kin symbol on the display. "I say we follow this. The origin of their tech. If we want answers, we go to their wellspring."
Mina hesitated.
"That route hasn't been verified. It's an unknown jump path. No data."
Thale smiled. "Which is exactly why Julian would take it."
A Glimpse of the Bigger Stakes
As they deliberated, Halcyon Dome's external array picked up a signal:
Encrypted relay burst from Earth orbit. Unmarked.
Mina decrypted it using Julian's old cipher ring.
The message:
"Your flame spreads too far. The ash you leave behind will choke what you love."– Consortium Proxy, Artemis Line
It was a warning.
But also a declaration.
"They're scared of us," Mina whispered. "We've become the wild card."
Closing Moments – Dome Breaths Again
The final scene of the chapter:
The Dome, now pulsing with new energy, lights restored, systems humming.
Julian's team standing before the sealed launch vessel deep in the sub-core hangar.
Its name, now visible on the side:
AEON ASCENT – For Those Who Dream in the Dark
Their future waited beyond the stars. But first, they had to hold the line just a little longer.
Because the real war hadn't even started.
Halcyon Dome – Sub-Core Hangar[14 hours before scheduled launch of Aeon Ascent]
The warning came too late.
The lights in the hangar flickered once. Then again—stuttering to black. For one single breathless moment, the Dome fell into stillness.
Then the chaos erupted.
The first explosion ripped through the eastern airlock, sending a shockwave of pressure and flame through the loading bay. A second concussive blast tore a chunk from the power relays—an inside job, timed to coincide with the pre-launch calibration window.
Klaxons blared.
"Emergency breach detected! Core systems compromised—alert: internal hostiles detected."
Mina hit the ground, rolled behind a stack of supply crates, and shouted into her comms.
"We have a breach team inside! Repeat, internal breach! Protocol Chimera—go now!"
Ossa, on the mezzanine near the drone racks, slammed the emergency lockdown lever. Steel shutters screamed as they descended across doorways, sealing off half the Dome in less than ten seconds.
Too slow.
Black-armored hostiles—clearly genetically modified—spilled from the shadows, moving with inhuman precision. Their weapons were sleek, white-etched rail carbines—silent, efficient, and aimed to maim.
But they hadn't counted on Julian's contingency AI—activated the second the internal temperature dropped by a single non-human degree.
"HOSTILE BIOSIGNATURES DETECTED. INITIATING CONTAINMENT GRID DELTA-5."
A shimmering crystalline field pulsed to life across the hangar's upper gantry, slicing off enemy movement paths and locking down the launch vessel's access hatches.
Thale emerged from a shadowed corner wielding a magnetic coil-axe, a prototype weapon Julian had forged from hollowed kin scrap and Martian silver. The moment the attackers got close, he twisted the handle—
KRACK-ZZZT!
—sending a kinetic pulse through their systems. One of the infiltrators spasmed, armor cracking, eyes flickering with digital overload before collapsing.
"These aren't mercs," Thale shouted. "They're synthetics—with cerebral splices!"
Julian's Moment – The Thermochemical Trap
With most of the Dome's automated defenses scrambled and corridors sealed, Mina and Ossa found themselves cornered in the auxiliary supply vault.
Behind them? Rations. Lubricant gels. Oxygen tanks.
In front of them? Two heavily armed infiltrators, slicing through the emergency door with molecular cutters.
"Give me two minutes," Mina said.
"You've got thirty seconds," Ossa replied, drawing his blade.
Mina yanked a canister of hyperoxygenated gel, two aluminum utility wraps, and a bag of powdered Martian ice-melt compound.
"In a sealed environment, this much oxidizer plus powdered aluminum... we're making a thermochemical flashbomb."
She slathered the inside of a pressure valve with the gel, wrapped the foil tight, then sprinkled the powder inside. The moment the heat of the door breach touched it—
FWOOM!
A blast of incandescent magnesium-like flame filled the corridor, blinding the synthetics long enough for Ossa to finish the job with a sweep of his armblade.
"MacGyver would've been proud," he muttered.
"I am MacGyver," Mina smirked.
Meanwhile – Julian's Voice Returns
The entire team froze when the main console came alive—despite the power being cut.
A glowing face etched in synthetic light appeared across the walls.
Julian.
His voice, filtered through subroutines and neural predictions, echoed through the chamber.
"If you're hearing this, they've already found us."
"The launch must proceed. My calculations show the Aeon Ascent is more than a vessel—it's a key. They know it too."
"But I knew they'd strike before we left. So I left you this…"
From the hangar floor, an invisible panel shifted open. Rising from the vault was a hovering orb—a miniaturized neural compression field generator, embedded with a series of alien glyphs and Julian's final biometric seal.
"Use this to blind their orbital tracking. You've got one chance."
The Escape Plan Accelerates
Thale shouted into the comms, "Initiating forced launch!"
Across the Dome, battered systems groaned back to life. The Aeon Ascent began to levitate, repulsors humming as its ancient alien alloy flared with energy. Its launch sequence was never meant to be rushed—but now it had no choice.
"Everyone in. Now. We're going now."
As they boarded:
Ossa held the rear, firing plasma bolts into the remaining intruders.
Mina slammed the override on the bay door.
Thale tossed Julian's orb into the central chamber, activating its stealth cloak.
From orbit, Earth's surveillance grid blinked—and lost all visuals.
"Where did they go?"
"They just... disappeared off the grid."
"Find them. Whatever it takes."