I come down hard on the other side and lose my footing halfway through, rolling off hands and knees. I look up to see the Juno hunting for me, forearm just too wide to clear the doorway, fingers trailing sparks where they gouge the floor.

I scrabble on all fours, hurl myself clear as a huge hand clamps shut, less than a metre from my feet. It pulls away, and the doorway fills with a heavy metal face, three eyes in a line down one side, each as big as my head. The Juno glares at me, massive lenses whirring in their sockets, trying to get a fix.

I can hear the focus-rings grinding together, like something’s caught in the mechanism. I can see the cracks, too. One eye is an empty socket, and another is lined in shards of broken glass. The last is still intact, but mirror-fissures run across it, crackling as the machine tries to focus. The Juno’s blind.

It pulls away, and heavy steps roll into the distance. I can feel each one, rumbling up through the floor.

“Christs,” I manage.

And a hand closes on my shoulder.

I WHEEL AROUND, heart in my throat and fists in the air.

Hail steps back. “Easy, easy.”

It takes me a moment to swallow my pulse. “You scared the shit out of me.” I frown at her. “How’d you get in?”

Hail shrugs, gestures down the corridor behind her. “This is a saviour bay, compartmentalised in case there’s a breach on the hangar side.” She looks down at the claw marks in the floor. “Juno’s onto us.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think it knows who we are.”

She rests a hand on her hip. “You, maybe, but I’ve known that machine for as long as I’ve been on this ship.”

I shake my head. “That wouldn’t help. It can’t see us.”

She frowns. “Didn’t look that way to me.” She offers a hand, hauls me to my feet. “Come on, let’s get clear of this door.”

I follow her through another airlock, and help her roll it closed behind us. We don’t want the Juno skipping wreckage through the gap. A few corners later, and we’ve got several layers of concrete for cover, air to ourselves and a moment to think.

Hail leans back against the wall, shakes her collar out. “You said it can’t see us.”

I trace a finger around one eye. “It looks like it took a hit to the face. Optics are shattered. Not enough to blind it completely, but enough that it doesn’t know who or what we are.”

She growls. “The head must’ve been loose in the casket, got thrown around when the tide hit.” She takes a breath, measures it out. “Dammit, Kadi.”

“So what do we do?”

“How bad is the damage?”