The flooded lower decks

<snip>Gomez looked around at them. Something wasn't quite right.
"Hey!" he cried out "where is Senor Niples?"
<end snip>

It was a good question, because Seymour didn't know himself. Whilst the others were clambering towards the shuttle bay doors, Seymour grabbed some of the blue metal plating on the side of the ship, which crumbled and gave way as a jet of water erupted in his face. Totally shocked, he let go of the hull with his hands and started to float away. Luckily, the heel of his artificial legs snagged on some sharp metal and held him dangling away from the ship.

Another burst of water hit him in the face. This time he could see where it was coming from, in his clambering around on the hull he'd knocked a pressure release valve for a small access hole normally used for skutters to get outside onto the ship's hull to make repairs. It wasn't supposed to be full of water though.
Seymour tried to bend his artificial legs to pull himself inside using the access hole, but his legs wouldn't move.

“Oh not this again, bloody technology!” He said, smacking his legs to try and make them work. Eventually they did and he climbed into the small hole, which was slightly bigger than a skutter, and just enough room for him to wriggle inside. He went through a small airlock and stumbled down a ramp onto a rusty metal grate. Taking off his spacesuit helmet he could hear the sound of running water.
“I'd put that back on if I were you.” boomed a crackly voice all around him.

Seymour turned to look but could only see some speakers on the wall.
“Hello who is that?”

“Put your helmet back on.” Said the voice. “The section you're in floods every 15 minutes.” The voice from the speaker was distorted, probably because the speaker was covered in seaweed and barnacles, but it was familiar to Seymour. A voice he'd not heard in a long time.

He put the helmet back on, and just in time. The sound of roaring water got loader, and when Seymour saw the wave of water coming towards him it was too late. He tried to move, but his legs were still malfunctioning. The wave swept him away and he realised he was travelling a long way. Gripping onto the walls at either side of him didn't do much, they were slippy with millions of years of seaweed.
Just before he came to a stop, he heard a voice in his helmet. “Alex to Seymour, are you onboard?”
“Indeed. But no idea where. Where are you chaps?” he managed, now just riding the water like a slide at a water park.
“We're in the auxhillary shuttle bay, the one right at the bottom of the ship. It's slightly flooded here, all the Starbugs and Blue Midgets are waterlogged and rusty. The reserve water tank on the deck above must have leaked. Oh, there you are!”
Seymour was flung out of a pipe and landed in a puddle of water right at Alex's feet. Seymour looked around, everyone else was there too. Whitewolf had taken his helmet off and had slightly wet fur, and Phil's pointy ears were starting to return back to normal.
“Gentlemen. My legs seemed to be failing me, would one of you mind awfully giving me a hand?” Phil helped Seymour into a standing position and out of the puddle of water he was sat in.

“This place is a mess.” Seymour said, looking around. “It'll take years to get this place ship-shape again, look at all the standing water and the rust!”
“Well I did warn you that there were fish people on the lower decks.” Said Davie. “Maybe this is where they live?”
Another speaker cracked, causing them all to turn. “Helmets back on again guys.” It said.
“Hey I recognise that voice!” Said Phil.
“You too? We had better do what the chap says.” Said Seymour, speaking from recent experience.
It was then that the ground beneath them started to rumble. Then all the standing water around their feet started to rush towards the center of the room where a crack in the floor was opening. The floor slid open, until there was nowhere in the room left to stand.
They all tumbled down into the dark room below, feeling themselves splash into an expanse of water. They floated down in slow motion, trying to make out shapes in the murky water.
“Mr Jones, were those fish people you talked about friendly?” Seymour said through his helmet's radio.
“I'm not sure. Why?”
“Because I can see them.” Seymour said, pointing through the water. Several large goldfish with arms swam gracefully through the water towards them, and grabbed each of them, pulling them into a direction.
“I say, be careful.” Seymour told the fish, who just swivelled a bulging eye back at him.

They brought them into a floodlit area, still underwater, and left them to float for a while.

“Oh hello guys!” Said the familiar voice again, this time in the radio inside their helmets. They all looked to see another figure in a modified spacesuit, with the fish people standing at either side of him.

<Tag – who is it?!>