The light blinded him, at least for the instant it took to realise his eyes were open, and what the hell was that noise? The cryogenic mind fog weighed heavy on Captain Owens, yet in some small way temporarily alleviated the burden of command.The last thing he remembered was confirming the jump readiness of the Clausius with mission control before joining the rest of the crew in Cryo–Stasis. They were a bunch of misfits for sure, but that’s why he picked them. They were hand-picked not only for their professional skills but their diverse areas of experience. The same couldn’t be said for the ships scientific complement. Straight laced corporate scientists and lab technicians all singing from the same hymn sheet; these were an unknown quantity that made him nervous.
The cryo–unit performed a brain scan while a robotic arm simultaneously sampled blood and injected a stimulant; the effect was instantaneous. The noise reached teeth jarring levels as the mind fog was burned away by adrenaline fuelled dread; the noise pumping into the room was the ships proximity alert, something was dangerously close to the Clausius.Trooper Kelly was suddenly in his face ranting about an accident. What goddamn accident? Owens was on his feet in an instant realising something was terribly wrong. Everyone should have been in Cryo–Stasis, but it was clear they were in Evacuation and Medical, Med Lab One. “NavCom report” Owens commanded. The computer’s silence was drowned out by the punishing proximity alert. It was time to start issuing orders.
A sci-fi scenario by Allen Farr.