44

The thing about explosions in space is this: there is no atmosphere in space.

That means no fire and no noise.

Starships carried advanced monitoring systems for their outer hulls because no one inside the ship would be able to hear them.

Docks, and by default, the berths they were made up of, used those same systems. Each berth was a separate bay, capable of being locked down completely through a series of blast doors. The seals were so efficient and tight that any atmosphere trapped in the berth would remain viable until the oxygen ran out.

In the event of a blast inside a berth, the blast doors could move quickly enough to cut off eighty percent of the explosion from reaching outside the berth.

The weak point of the design was any explosion that occurred at the outer blast door. An explosion both inside and outside the berth, inside and outside atmosphere, made an already volatile concoction even worse.

The explosion at berth 44 originated from a stack of crates meant to be loaded onto the Loss. Sitting next to the outside blast door in preparation, the explosion decimated the crates and the equipment inside. It sent a shockwave through the berth that shook the Loss in its moorings, knocking the soldiers working in the berth off their feet. The initial explosion sent a cloud of chemicals and heat that dissipated approximately halfway through the berth.

The shockwave and debris that exited the berth would continue outward through space until something got in their way. As soon as the explosion was registered, Walker Tower would blast out a warning message to any ships on approach, hopefully in time to get their shields up.

The explosion in the Loss's berth wasn't large enough to damage the berth itself, though it warped and displaced the outer blast door. The shield over the dock snapped into place before the atmosphere of the berth could be vented completely, and as soon as the monitoring system registered the explosion, the inner blast door reopened, allowing oxygen from the hallway back into the berth.

The entire event only lasted for seventy-eight seconds, and barring a few minor burns and bruises from those unfortunate enough to be near the epicenter of the explosion, it went the way all the other attempts at killing Finley had.

Disappointing.

Finley and Winters had ended up locked in the elevator for the seventy-eight seconds as the alarm blared and raced out as soon as the doors were opened to find the wounded being pulled out of the berth by their comrades while Walker Tower blasted a satellite-wide warning about the explosion and alerted medical staff to respond.

Due to the size of the satellite, a response from Walker Hospital proper would take fifteen minutes. To combat that, emergency medical stations, manned by trauma teams, were located at specific points throughout the docks and the rest of the satellite.

The trauma teams burst out of the second elevator. They had special access badges that could override the frozen system in an emergency, and were sprinting towards the wounded.

Winters' welcome party had been on the opposite side of the berth from the explosion, and most of them had thrown themselves into helping with the wounded.

Evan, Russo, and Betchley were directing everyone away from the area of the explosion, and Finley saw the glimmer of the Loss's shield as it rippled around the ship.

She didn't know if it had activated in time to protect the hull from any damage, but looking at the charred remains of the crates and the reach of the burn marks, hopefully, it was just minor cosmetic damage.

"Evan."

"Fifteen wounded. Medical is taking everyone with so much as a scratch."

"The Loss?"

"Ookami says the outer hull registered minor force against. It engineers are getting their equipment to check for any breaches."

"Put off any more equipment loading until any repairs are complete."

Evan nodded, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm his racing heart.

"Have anything that didn't come off the Loss removed from the berth." Finley glanced around. "Betchley."

The man jumped and then turned wary when he realized who had spoken. "Captain Fearghail."

"I hear you're coming aboard the Loss?"

He nodded, but he didn't look happy about it.

"Welcome aboard. You're the new Admin Officer. Help Evan."

Both men sputtered in surprise, but the situation swept them away before they could voice any complaints. The trauma teams were starting to take patients for transport, and more soldiers were offloading from Loss to help and adding to the confusion.

Finley tapped her radio. "Ookami, lock down the Loss and keep everyone else on board."

"Yes, ma'am. We'll conduct a 100% on board and alert you to any issues."

Finley stepped out of the way as a pair of crewmen escorted a fellow crewman bleeding from a gash across his forehead to the elevator.

Russo appeared at her elbow. "Crates were delivered yesterday. In anticipation of our arrival. It's all listed as a standard equipment for restock. Mostly medical and life support. A few engineering crates."

"The order from-"

He cut her off. "No. Those crates haven't arrived yet."

"Okay. Anything off with these?"

"Not that we've picked up so far. Olympia and her team are running down the chain of custody. Nemo's going to see if he can pick out anything about the device, but his initial glance says it was inside one of the crates."

"Which means it's not video."

"Not unless someone was real stupid when they put it in the crate to begin with. Nemo might still be able to find something."

Nemo was a brilliant engineer. If anyone had a chance to find something from any pieces that might have survived, it was him. The only other person Finley had ever met who had such a way with mechanics and physics was…

Well, he was part of the reason Finley had come to Walker Hospital in the first place.

~ tbc