“Close the hatch!” there was a touch of fear in Locke’s voice.
Karapanov rushed. The hatch slammed shut with a whoosh.
Tim Morris took a step forward. Locke protested,
“What are you doing? We don’t know what that thing is!”
“I’m a scientist, Trianna! This is what i do!”
“Captain!!” Locke corrected.
“Let me do my job!” Jim threw his hands up, pleading. Locke sighed, and relunctantly agreed.
Jim bent over the creature. It’s large black orbs eyed him fearfully, but hopefully. “Not our fault,” it whispered, “Can’t breathe! Not enough oxygen!”
The Doc looked at his arm-band with an Atmo-Scanner. With a push of a green button, a filter was deployed, and the meter read nominal. Holding his breath, he unlatched his ZG-helm, and felt a swish of air enter his helmet. It was cold. He let out his breath, and took a gulp of Karama air. He sighed.
“It’s breathable!”
The creature held out a hand, 3 fingers and 1 thumb. “Not enough oxygen,” it touched its chest.
“We have to get him out of this airlock!”