Amos crosses his arms over the table, fingers tapping the plexiglass absent-mindedly. "I found a few maintenance hatches, actually. They seem to run up around the central shaft. Lot of shit's blocked up, but I opened one to go have a look in," Amos says, reminded of his morning meeting with Clara.

Kinda weird, that one. "Everything I could see in there was in shape. Like there is maintenance on it, but that doesn't make sense."

There's no crew. Who's going to clean the filters?

But it's what Alex says next that makes Amos's stomach drop. It doesn't show on his face much, but Alex would probably see it anyway, just by virtue of knowing him well enough for it now. "Yeah, we do."

The idea of Holden, Naomi and Prax tumbling through space on the Roci without a pilot while a war rages around them is not one Amos likes.

"What's your theory? They're in cryo somewhere on this piece of junk?"