He also sent the evidence to a neutral medical oversight council, ensuring that no single station administrator could quietly bury it.
Hamish asked whether that would protect the people in the depot.
Hravik admitted that the legal process might be slower than a corporate patrol ship.
Hamish said that he had expected that answer.
He turned to Imani and asked whether their freighter could reach the docking gate before the patrol.
Imani said it could if somebody restored power to the outer cargo bridge.
The bridge’s control station lay behind the sealed refrigeration compartment.
Sepha refused to let Hamish enter an unexamined biological area.
He said he had not intended to go inside the chamber.
He would use the adjoining service crawlspace that Imani had marked on the schematic.
The crawlspace was narrow, hot, and designed for technicians smaller than he was.
Imani objected that he might become trapped.
Hamish asked if they had an alternative.
They did not.
He handed Sepha his jacket, climbed into the maintenance passage, and dragged himself forward by his elbows.
The metal surface smelled faintly of lubricant and stale refrigeration gas.
He could hear the soft movement of creatures beyond the wall.
The sound was more unsettling than any roar because it suggested patience.
He remembered the first skithra on Meridian, how quickly the animal had struck and how narrowly he had survived.
His body had recovered, but the memory of feeling his arm go cold had never disappeared.
He had simply become good at joking around it.
Halfway through the crawlspace, a vent grille loosened beneath his knee.
He caught himself before falling into the compartment below.
Through the opening he saw dozens of translucent containers filled with pale blue shapes.
Each shape moved against the glass in slow, synchronized patterns.
They were skithra hatchlings.
The creatures were too young to produce the full adult toxin, but their nervous systems were already active.
A few turned toward the vibration of his breathing.
Hamish felt an unpleasant prickling along his spine.
He closed the grille and continued crawling.
At the end of the passage, he reached a manual power lever locked behind a protective panel.
Imani spoke to him through his communicator and guided him through a series of checks.
He asked whether she trusted the old machinery.
She said she trusted the repair work she had just performed.
He pulled the lever.
The cargo bridge lights returned one by one, illuminating a route toward the freighter’s docking arm.
