As they caught their breath, the ship’s voice echoed through the chamber, louder and more menacing than before:

“YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE. ALL TRESPASSERS MUST BE ELIMINATED.”

Zog groaned. “I hate being right.”

“Come on,” Clorita said, moving toward a nearby corridor. “The bridge should be this way.”

“I’d rather it wasn’t,” Zog muttered, following reluctantly.

Behind them, the maintenance bot let out a faint click and sparked ominously.

As they cautiously navigated the dim corridors of the Celestial Reverie, Clorita tapped her wrist communicator and called up IND-E.

“IND-E, can you use our comms as sensors to draft a map of this death trap? We need to find the bridge,” she said, calm but clipped.

IND-E hesitated momentarily: “I’ll try, but I should warn you: I’m better at brewing LubriCoffee than cartography.”

Zog groaned. “We’re doomed.”

“Accurate,” IND-E confirmed without any emotion.

Clorita sighed. “Just ping the ship’s layout and try to give us something useful.”

As they advanced, the corridors became narrower and more chaotic, with debris and wires strewn across the floor. They had an unexpected stroke of luck at a crossroads of intersecting hallways: a glowing, backlit map embedded into the wall. Though cracked and dusty, it was still operational.

“Bingo,” Clorita said, stepping closer to examine it.

The map displayed the ship’s sprawling layout, including emergency exits, stairwells, and key areas. The bridge was clearly marked: three decks up, toward the nose of the ship.

“This is useful,” Clorita muttered, memorising the path. “We’ll head through here, up this access shaft, and—”

“Why does every route involve us going closer to the black hole?” Zog muttered, pointing at the ship’s external diagram.

“Because that’s where the bridge is, genius,” Clorita replied. “Unless you’d rather hang out here and wait for the ship to throw more murder bots at us.”

“I was considering it,” Zog muttered.

Faint red lights began flickering across their path as they entered the next corridor. Clorita held up a hand, stopping Zog in his tracks.

“Laser grids,” she said, her voice low.

Zog squinted at the beams crisscrossing the hall. “That doesn’t look too bad. Can’t we just, you know, step over them?”

Clorita glanced at him, unamused. “Those are high-density plasma beams. Step over one, and you’ll lose whatever’s left of your foot.”

Zog gulped, taking a cautious step back. “Great. So… now what?”

Clorita’s eyes scanned the corridor until they landed on a cleaning cabinet tucked into an alcove. She strode over and yanked the door open, revealing various dusty tools and supplies.

“What are you looking for?” Zog asked, his nerves fraying.

“Something we can use,” Clorita replied, rummaging through the clutter. She pulled out a roll of glossy, silvery tape and grinned. “Intergalactic nanotape. This stuff can seal anything, stick anything to anything. Perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” Zog asked warily.

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Clorita unfurled a strip of the tape and knelt by the first emitter projecting the laser grid. With careful precision, she pressed the tape over the small device, smothering the light emitter. The beam immediately disappeared.

“See?” Clorita said, standing and dusting off her hands. “Piece of cake.”

“Great,” Zog said, glancing at the endless rows of emitters ahead. “Now just do that… a hundred more times.”

Clorita sighed. “Quit whining and keep watch. You can at least pretend to be useful.”

Zog grew increasingly jumpy as Clorita worked her way down the corridor, neutralising one emitter after another. Every faint creak or distant clank made him whirl around, his laser gun trembling in his grip.

“I don’t like this,” he whispered. “It’s too quiet. Something’s going to jump out.”

“Stop talking,” Clorita muttered, pressing another piece of nanotape onto an emitter. “You’re making me lose focus.”

“I’m serious!” Zog hissed. “This is the part in the holo-thriller where the heroes get ambushed by—”

A sudden, metallic clank echoed down the hall, followed by the faint hum of motors. Zog froze, his eyes wide. “—a killer robot.”

Clorita looked up, frowning. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A hulking maintenance bot emerged from the shadows behind them, its plasma cannon already glowing.

The Bot hollered in a low voice: “TRESPASSERS WILL BE NEUTRALIZED.”

“See?!” Zog shouted, diving behind the nearest bulkhead.

Clorita swore under her breath, raising her shotgun. “I’m busy, you clanking pile of junk!”

The bot fired, scorching the wall just above Clorita's head with a streak of plasma. Clorita dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the blast. The nano tape roll tumbled from her hand, bouncing down the corridor.

“Grab that tape!” she shouted at Zog.

“Me?!” he yelped, still cowering.

“Yes, you! Move!”

Zog scrambled forward, dodging another plasma shot as he snatched up the roll of tape. “Got it! Now what?”

“Stick it to the bot’s face!” Clorita yelled, firing a shotgun blast that hit the bot’s leg, slowing its advance.

“You want me to what?!” Zog shouted, clutching the tape like it was a live grenade.

“Just do it!”

Muttering every curse he could think of, Zog bolted toward the bot, ducking and weaving as it fired wildly. He slapped the nanotape across the bot’s central sensor with a desperate lunge. The adhesive stuck instantly, smothering the glowing eye.

The bot froze, its movements jerking erratically before it collapsed with a heavy clang.

Panting, Zog stumbled back, holding his knees. “I… hate… this ship.”

Clorita picked up the tape and slapped him on the back. “You did great, Captain. Now help me finish these emitters before we get any more visitors.”

Zog groaned, but he followed her lead. The laser grid wouldn’t dismantle itself.

The corridor echoed with the relentless whirring of machinery, the sharp screech of grinding metal, and Zog’s panicked yelps as the crew found themselves cornered in a dead-end. A hulking maintenance bot, upgraded into a nightmarish machine of death, loomed over Clorita. Its jagged chainsaw arm glinted menacingly in the flickering red light, and its single, glowing eye focused on her with unerring precision.

“INTRUDERS WILL BE TERMINATED,” the bot droned, its voice a mechanical growl as it raised the saw.

“Uh, Clorita?” Zog’s voice cracked as he pressed himself against the wall. “Any bright ideas? Preferably ones that don’t involve me getting sliced into Zog-chunks?”

Clorita glared at the bot, her shotgun clutched tightly in her hands. She was out of rounds, most of her ammunition spent on the swarm of drones that had ambushed them earlier. Her eyes darted to the roll of nanotape still attached to Zog’s belt.

“Throw me the tape!” she barked.

“The what?” Zog stammered, looking down. “Oh! This thing?”

“Yes, this thing! Now!”

Before Zog could react, the bot surged forward, its chainsaw roaring to life. Clorita dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade as it carved into the floor where she had just been standing. Sparks flew, and the bot adjusted its trajectory, closing in on her again.

Zog fumbled with the tape but froze as another bot emerged from the shadows, its plasma cannon aimed squarely at him. “Oh, come on!” he shouted, panicking and hurling the tape toward Clorita.

She caught it mid-dive, landing hard on her shoulder. With a swift motion, she ripped off a strip of nanotape and lunged toward the chainsaw bot’s exposed leg joint. The tape slapped against the joint, sealing it instantly. The bot stumbled, its movement jerky and awkward, but it was still functional.

“Nice try,” the bot growled, its voice even more menacing as it raised the chainsaw again. Clorita rolled onto her back, staring up at the spinning blade as it inched closer and closer.

“CLORITA!” Zog shouted, his laser gun uselessly clicking as he fired another spent charge. “This is it! We’re gonna die!”