The emergency locker opens against your shoulder. Inside are a cutter, a torn pressure hood, and one canister of hull foam. You take the canister. Its mechanical trigger will work without ship power. Sato catches the cutter as it falls. She tests its edge against the bunk strap, then slices through the cable above the door. The voice cuts out midword. Something wet squeezes through the speaker grille. It has the shape of a fingertip until it encounters the floor. Then it flattens and runs toward your boots. You back away without spraying. One charge will seal one opening. Sato pulls you through the inner hatch and kicks it shut behind you.
Eight survivors. Nine heartbeats. Something aboard your rescue ship is learning to sound human.
Listen closely. Choose carefully. Carry the consequences.
Every path leaves a different story.