Tito cursed to himself. He took his cigar out of his mouth, ejecting the smoke from his lungs through his nostrils. The grey plum curled upwards before being sucked into the nearest ventilation grate. This was definitely bad, but the situation could have been worse. Worst case scenario, the fan could've flown out of control, sliced through the ducts, and punctured something more important. 

"I'm not sure if we can spare the manpower for that right now, Engineering's too busy making sure the generator won't implode on itself when we leave. That old thing should've been replaced years ago. If it's absolutely non-vital, we should prioritize more [i]important[/i] things. A damaged oxygen shaft's the least of our worries." He said as he glanced around at the crowd around him. It was more than obvious he was nervous, given yesterday's events. Rowe, of all people. Tito had known Rowe, the man wasn't exactly soft. Whoever they were dealing with wasn't just a nut, that much was true. 

Tito placed the cigar back in his mouth, and crossed his bulky mechanical arms. "I'll look into who we have available. I don't want to leave this shaft alone, either."