Tycho Awakening

The light flickers on, illuminating the gunmetal gray bulkhead, a beige formed plastic crate labeled SCF Tycho, a red stenciled sign: DO NOT BLOCK VENT.
Seconds later, the soft hum of the light tubes goes silent and the cargo bay plunges once more into darkness. Total silence now. Not even the comforting thrum of the freighter’s engines.
Dead in space, adrift.
A sibilant voice whispers: “The window is open.”
“That…that seems unlikely,” says Captain Paul Galloway. He hopes that’s true. A breached porthole in the vacuum of space wouldn’t promote healthy living.
There’s a buzzing click as the overhead lights return. No one’s with him in the chamber. He scrambles to his feet and looks around.
The lights go out. The voice, again: “The window is open.”