The door to the armor room shut, and there were a few seconds of harsh, hissing gasses. Without prompting from her, the helmet closed again over Lucky’s face. It was clear, though overlaid with all kinds of information she didn’t understand. One part looked like a temperature gauge, and she thought the second one was an external pressure monitor based on how fast it was dropping. Maybe I misjudged the map? It would make sense to keep something you wanted to preserve under vacuum.