Free Chrono Virus by Aaron Crocco Page B

along to dinner the next time they were docked near Lindsey's ship.
    Hubbard looked up from the display. "Raven's clean. No bumps or bruises. It had to have been an FTL wake."
    Ken waved the notion aside. "No way. Even an Albany class ship couldn't create that."
    "It could if they jumped just before we passed through."
    "He's right, Captain," Watts said. "I served a stint at FMS 22 a while back. Even with a line of ships waiting to jump, we never saw a wake generate as much force as what hit the Raven."
      Ken had served on ships abiding by the shipping lane rules. The wait was long due to the set locations a ship could make an FTL jump. Passing through an FTL monitoring station brought the unique advantage to take on extra cargo people didn't want to pass through planetary customs. Because of the Raven's small size and lack of FTL drive, it was exempt from lane requirements and delivered cargo faster, meaning more money.
    "Well, if anyone has another explanation, I'm all ears," Hubbard said.
    Ken looked back out into the darkness, grasping for a logical theory. He was no engineer, so he only had his experience to go on, but experience couldn’t answer this. He saw Hubbard rubbing his whiskered chin deep in thought and turned back to the viewport for answers.
      Watts cried out, breaking his concentration. Both he and Hubbard spun in time to see her unconscious body crumple to the deck, blood pooling around her head.

Ken ran the best he could, feet clanging against the metal grating of the Raven’s deck, holding Watts tightly over his shoulder. Hubbard led the way to the medical station, situated at the midpoint of the Raven's 100-foot interior. Neither Hubbard or Ken said anything after Watts hit the floor. The impact had left a gash on her forehead where she had struck the jagged deck grating and a steady stream of blood ran down her face. Some unknown training from years long past had kicked in. Hubbard checked checked her pulse and Ken ran to initiate the autopilot so the ship would give audible alerts to any issues.
      The entrance to the medical station was one deck below on the crew's quarters level. Hubbard pointed to a long table as bright lights switched on, blanketing the room in pure white. The captain ran his fingers across four rows of switches, flipping them up in unison. Every piece of equipment hummed to life. Hubbard started typing into the main interface terminal.
    Ken hoisted Watts onto the milky white table. The surface lit up, illuminating an outline of her body in cool blue dots. He stood there not knowing what to do.
    "C'mon, Watts. You need to pull through this," Ken whispered. He stroked her hair, moving it out of her face. She looked so much like Lindsey. It pushed him to protect her with equal ferocity. Her breathing was shallow, but she didn't look like she was in pain.
    "What's going on, Hubs?" Ken called over his shoulder.
    "R-Phys is still coming online."
    "Still?" Ken asked. The remote physicians required for all smaller vessels were designed to be ready in under 10-seconds of startup. "We're running out of time with her."
    Hubbard slammed his hand on the console. "The whole damn thing's stuck on its connection to the central medical database. We'll have to do this the old-fashioned way."
    The captain slid under the console, pulling out a navy canvas medical bag. Ken let go of Watts’ hand, though he hadn't remembered taking it to begin with. He grabbed the bag and unclasped the fasteners while Hubbard pulled an overhead light toward them. He grabbed a couple of handheld scanners out and placed them on the table.
    "You know how to use these things?" Ken asked.
    "Was part of my captain's renewal." Hubbard ran the rectangular device across Watt's face and slowly down her torso. The front of the metallic scanner was all screen and it mirrored the data that would've shown if the R-Phys was working. Hubbard completed the sweep and waited it for it to process through its diagnosis