Through Time, Darkly

[Pryce]

[color=#FFFF00]Main Hangar bay

Nickatelli wasted no time; glancing quickly behind him, then back at the two crewmen, he shouted;

"He's armed! Take him down!"

Thomas Keller and Robert Crowley, the two armed crewmen, in a second, had fanned into the hangar with the same skill as the military service they'd left behind; dropping to their knees, shouldering their rifles at the target. In only an instant, information had to be taken in, processed, a decision made.

Crowley caught sight of a man brushing past Denise to stand in front of her. He almost reflexively fired at the man when his brain stopped him, having seen everything in the room and needing just a second to process it. Something's off A voice screaming in his head to wait. "Hold fire." He said quckly, saving Doyle from Kellers rifle by only a fraction of a second.

Four seconds had passed since they had entered the hangar.

The man did have a pistol. In a holster. Crowley didn't find that fact in itself worthy of a kill order. The moving in front of Denise was a protective gesture. This stranger was protecting Denise. From him. Hardly the actions of someone intending harm to the crew.

Five seconds.

"Shoot!" Nickatelli said.

"Stop!" Angela began running from the fighter, no easy feat in the bulk of the suit. "Captain Wells says stop!"

Crowley stood up, as did Keller, and they each bought their weapons slightly off Doyle, but still at the ready.

Angela continued; "The Captain is on his way down."

Denise stepped from behind Doyle, pausing beside him. She caught his eye and smiled weakly; "My turn."
Walking on a line between Doyle and the hatch she walked up to Nickatelli. He glared at her angrily.

Keller eyed Doyle as he spoke, softly, in his own way trying to calm everyone down; "Man, we need to get someone down here to look at the enviromental controls, it's ice cold down here."

Crowley was watching Denise as she stood in front of Nickatelli, having surmised correctly much of what had just happened. Eyes on Denise, he answered; "It sure is."

Denise slapped Nickatelli, hard, across the face. The sound echoed in the confines of the hangar.

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