You stay on the bridge and pull the orbit pages because the path is the scary story. KILO complies. The computer-bay temperature climbs in the corner like a kid standing on a chair.

“Cmd thermal,” KILO says. “Radiators stowed. Junction temp rising.”

In vacuum there is still no breeze. The boxes that just woke up have nowhere to dump their work-heat except out through pale radiator panels, and those panels are still pretending to be doors. Jax points without looking away from the oval. “We can pop the doors now. Or we keep doing math until the brick that is doing the math faints.”

Mira does not grab the thermal page for you. She waits to see if you treat heat like weather you can ignore. Vacuum will not grade on a curve. The nav numbers are ugly enough to steal your attention. Stealing your attention is how quiet failures win.