Despite his own slightly awkward anatomy, Donatello was having a much simpler time getting his own transuit on. Clearly, the thing was designed with an eye for adapting to physiology that had things like big honking shells to worry about it.

(Whatever might be wrong with being stuck centuries and realities away from home, he really couldn't complain about the marked decrease in human-centric everything.)

Even as he finished pulling it into place with one hand, he was already reaching for a nearby console with the other - not really even tapping buttons. One touch was good enough for his powers to kick in, and while the flow of information was a lot to sift through at once, he'd been getting plenty of practice at it before now. He could feel where everything in the ship was working; it was just a matter of looking at where it was working from. The fans and air filters scrubbing waste gases into breathable air, the heating, the gravity generators...everything linked back to a main conduit for power, and if one followed that back -

"We're five levels down from the power controls for this section. If those go, we'll be losing a lot more than lights."