Joe whispers to himself and goes into a low crouch.

[b]Joe:[/b] "Goddamn, and double goddamn."

He looks for a piece of metal or something else that can easily be used as a weapon, praying to whatever the hell is out there that the 'unidentified life-form' doesn't decide he looks like a tasty snack. Regardless of whether or not he finds one, he begins to move to the closest airlock, hoping that it's still functional.