You let air wheeze out of your respirator, "I think I can fix this, but I'd better try to do so alone. No point in anyone without a respirator or atmospherically-sealed void suit attempting to help, the atmosphere would probably just kill you."

Enforcer Atellus frowns, "so what's with the air in there? does it just smell bad or did someone set off a choke grenade?"

You nod, "similar effect to a choke grenade in a confined space, I think. Prolonged exposure would prevent you from breathing, leading to suffocation and eventual death. We are lucky that the contaminate concentration is low enough to attempt repairs." You hand Atellus your dataslate, "this has the map on it. In case I don't make it back, don't come in after me. No point in any more dying then need to."

Having said everything you need to, you close the airlock on the rest of the party and prepare your plan of action. You will need to open the airlock, move to the atmospheric controls, and utilize your omni-tool to attempt to effect repairs to said controls. If everything goes void-shaped, you will need to fall back to the airlock, cycle back out of the compartment, and find a different path. You deliberately hyper-ventilate, drawing in extra clean atmosphere before opening the airlock. It will buy you an extra few seconds, no more, but that could make all the difference. mentally and physically prepared, you enter the command to open the airlock, and then re-enter it to confirm your instructions when the airlock chimes its warning again. The airlock cycles open, and you move quickly to the console. It looks to be mostly intact, but unattended to. The maintenance and purity seals have either fallen off or rotted away. You quickly place a hand on the datapoint for the console, interfacing with it to glean the errorlogs.

Tech Use test at +20% (+0% base, +10% from omni-tool, +10% from electoo graft interface): repair the atmospheric control console. Success: needed <58, got 5. Console repaired.

Toughness test at +30% (+10% base, +20% from respirator implant): slightly toxic atmosphere. Failure: needed <59, got 61. Result: 1d5+0 damage: took 5 damage. 7 Health remaining.

The error logs are clear, and your solution is simple: all you need to do is reset / recalibrate the Ohh Two sensor. The secondary problem is that your lungs are starting to burn with the effort of holding your breath, and reciting the necessary incantations aloud will require you to breathe. You grip your omni-tool tight and begin your work. Within seconds of drawing a fresh breath, you can feel your lungs itching. The sensor resets easily, and begins self-calibrating without you needing to do much of anything. Your chest aches with how short of breath you are. You stagger back to the airlock and fumble the activation cycle. The door grinds short behind you, and the air pumps whoosh to life. Frantic, you chest heaves with the effort of breathing. Eventually the pain eases, but doesn't go away completely. You suppose that it never will, so long as your lungs are weak flesh and blood. The airlock cycles open and you stagger out to rejoin your team. They crowd around concerned for your health. Enforcer Atellus hand you back your dataslate. You crack a weak joke about more than one choke grenade in a confined space.

You see five haggard figures coming down the hall in the direction you came. They appear to be clothed in the ragged remains of some ship uniform. Four of them clutch pipes, while the fifth holds a naval pistol. You croak out a warning to your team as the figures break into a charge.