Through Time, Darkly

[Pryce]

[color=#FFFF00]Main Hangar Bay


He looked at Angela and at that moment she knew her guess was right. He saw that she knew the fighter was more than just transportation, more than just a weapon to him. He was tied to it somehow. He started towards his fighter, a faint smile as he passed her. For these moments at least, this small bit of knowledge was a secret kept only between the two of them. She felt pride, something she hadn't felt for quite some time, pleased with herself at making this small connection, a small point, and finding it before the others did, despite their greater age and experience. Then a tinge of guilt for feeling that way.


Doyle reached his fighter, beginning to relate the basic details of his craft, the significance of which was lost on Angela. She glanced to her side, seeing Doctor Graham was leaning forward slightly, hanging on Doyles every word. As Doyle leaned on the fighter, Angela intently watched both Doyle and the craft. She couldn't see anything....and yet in moments there was a faint, decernable change in his demeanor, the strained look he'd worn only minutes ago had faded. She remembered what she'd seen through the "eyes" of the helmet, and realized there was a great deal happening here that simply wasn't visable. She glanced at Denise.


Denise had now made the connection herself, having just seen Doyles "recovery" , and was trying to process what she was seeing.


Doyle finished his remarks with a question, jolting Angela to the present.

Ross replied to Doyle; "One small detail, Lieutenant Doyle, please let us prepare to properly document our work here."

Doctor Graham cleared his throat and was about to ask a question when Doctor Ross spoke to Angela. "Miss Wight, will you please go and fetch the trancription voice recorder please? It is in the small blue case, there, near the coffee." Pointing at the edge of the hangar nearest them.

"Yes Doctor." Angela replied. She turned and started walking towards the bulkhead, as Graham asked Doyle some mundane technical question about his fighter, trying to start a converation. Doyle replied, Angela hearing the context but not the words.


She reached the small table Gwen had set up for the coffee, stopping a moment to pour herself a cup, her back to the group. She had calmed somewhat, and her initial apprehension of their guest had settled abit, replaced by her normal, constant discomfort she always felt when around groups of people. She closed her eyes, and took a long, slow breath. She wished they hadn't sent so many, knowing even as she thought it, still more would come. If she were in Doyles place, she'd be more comfortable with a more informal, smaller group, not this mass of faces and instruments. If she were in charge, she'd have done it differently; but she was only an assistant. Nothing more. At least eight years yet for her doctorate, if she managed to do well enough to get there. Years more to be accepted at the same level as Doctor Ross or Owens. She sighed, very faintly. At least Denise seemed to feel mostly the same way she did.

"Get lost sweetie?"

Gwen Hart had moved up beside her, pouring her own cup of coffee, then another for Ross. She glanced at Angela, noting her demeanor, before adding; "Here, I'll take care of this part, why don't you relax a minute?" Gwen picked up the case beside the table, and slung the strap over her shoulder. She picked up a coffee cup in each hand, and headed back to the group.







Poor kid Gwen thought. Needs to learn to relax, and learn fast Graham was saying to Doyle; "So the "jumpdrive" burns up fuel that fast? Perhaps thats why we don't use them anymore. Not very economical. I guess thats why we have the trade lanes anyway." Gwen smiled and interrupted; "You missed your calling Ian. Shoulda been building engines hmm?. There's time, go on, we'll wait." She reached Ross and extended the coffee cup. Ross waved her off. "I am grateful Doctor Hart, but I am afraid Libertonians version of coffee doesn't agree with me."

Gwen shrugged; "More for me." Bretonians Keller had just come back in , and wordlessly set up a table next to the fighter, with Crowley coming in a second later to set up some chairs. Gwen set the case on the table, opened it, and extracted a small rectangular device, setting it on the surface of the table. After nodding at Ross, and a faint smile at Doyle, she wandered off to start an inventory and power draw assesment of the equipment.



Ross, Owens, and Donovan each took a seat at the table. Graham stood at Doyles side near the fighter. Ross took a breath, looked around the table, and spoke; "Shall we begin?"


Denise was standing next to the seated staff and saw Doyle eyeing the box on the table. "It's a trancription device," She said. "It's important that we keep records for the research, so nothing gets lost. It's only in case we need to refer to details later on. We'll keep it safe." Denise hoped they weren't moving too fast with this. However, there was no sense in deliberately dragging the work out.



Ross watched Denise speak with a quiet caution, and Ross was reminded to reign herself in a little from the norm.

She asked;

"Lieutenant Doyle, will you tell us how it is you came to be in Sirius?

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