Break Room

Safely ensconced in a GPM airlock that hadn't been used for that purpose in years, Enzo huddled alone against the chamber's wall and took stock of his situation.
Even when he could see the CIC on his way up from the banks of the Equatorial River, he hadn't heard a peep from Director Lain or anyone else over wireless channels to give him his orders. That troubled him, and as the pressure slowly rose in the airlock to suppress the onset of decompression sickness that he had courted in his transition from the ring section, he struggled to think of a reason that shipboard communications could be so scrambled even this long after the impact.
Maybe she's a lemon? Enzo thought, loathe to consider the possibility of describing the ESCI Revelation - his home - like that aloud. Cobalt Protectorate shipwrights, especially those under the employ of the Evermorn Strategic Colony Initiative, were notorious perfectionists; to do otherwise could doom hundreds or even thousands of passengers aboard a vessel like the Revelation to a slow, lonely death. Even if there were faults inherent to the ship's design, those faults would have be shared across every utility node throughout the ship to cause this sort of blackout in services, and surely a shipyard worker or autonomous system would have noticed over the years required to construct the vessel.
A cyber attack then? Maybe an insider? That explaination seemed more likely, though he thought it unlikely that any of the crew could be the culprit. The ship was well beyond the grasp of the Evermorn-Armoa Binary System and, thus, the theatre of the Armoa Conflict. Any double agent would have been caught by security screening on the way in or, if not, would have had to conceal his efforts from shipboard security and intranet bots for years while also gaining access to sensitive - and, thus, well-guarded - systems like the forward engineering trunks.
As the DCStim slowly worked its way out of his system, Enzo found nettled by aches in his joints and the growing dryness in his throat. Amenities like water weren't kept in the airlock, even when it hadn't been expected to be used in its stationary configuration beneath the atmosphere of the local sphere district. So, unless he intended to drink the cup of melted ice and mysterious green juice left by one of the airlock's civilian visitors before the emergency lockdown, he was just going to have to deal with cottonmouth for as long as it took the repressurization cycle to finish.