Through Time, Darkly

[Pryce]

[font=Arial]<span style="font-size:10pt;line-height:100%]Airlock A
Deck Two, Port Side


Nickatelli opened the outer door of the ships airlock, to find Captain Nathan Wells staring at him. "Couldn't leave gracefully, huh Elias?" Wells stepped into the corridor, forcing Nickatelli to take an uncomfortable step backwards. Keller and Crowley stepped out of the airlock behind Wells, flanking Nickatelli as he backed against the bulkhead.


"What?" Nickatelli asked ; "What now?'


"I think you have something that belongs to us." Wells' said. Keller pulled the bag out of Nickatellis hand, took two steps back, setting the bag on the deck. He knelt, and opened the bag to rifle thru it.


"What are you talking about? I don't have anything I didn't come on board with!" Nickatelli said to Wells.


Denise Ellis entered the corridor from a bend ahead, walking up to the trio, coming to a stop next to Wells. Denise eyed Nickatelli, her expression cold.


She must have called him. Always has a mouthful to say. Nickatelli thought darkly. Maybe I should have shut her up while I had her alone....


Denise saw the way he looked at her and she felt a chill. She wondered what he was thinking, but mostly why. What had set him off like this? Why not ask?


"What happened Elias?"


Nickatelli started to reply; "Why don't yo.."


"Here." Keller said, from his crouch next to the bag; He emptied a small bag from Nickatellis' belongings, three storage chips visible in the palm of his hand.


Nickatelli shouted; "You planted that! You son of a.....! He lept forward, surprising everyone but Crowley, who grabbed Nickatelli by the shoulders just as he reached Keller. Nickatelli shifted slightly, quickly striking at Crowley with his elbow, forcing Crowley to release his hold to block the blow. In an instant, Nickatelli brought his boot forward into swift contact with Kellers' face, knocking him to the deck, and moved to hit him again just as Wells threw a sharp kick to Nickatelli's knee, and he fell to the deck clutching the joint.


Denise shook her head as the men secured Nickatelli. She stooped to pick up the chips, gave one sad glance at Nickatelli, and started back towards the Hangar.


[color=#FFFF00]The Hangar

Gwen Hart keyed a holodisplay of the R110 scanner readout, projecting a small thermal image of the scanners targets over one of the smaller carts next to the fighter. The somewhat blurry image, after being washed through the computer, showed its' subjects as a set of multi-coloured shapes, and a floating bar at the side indicated the temperature range of the colours in the image.

"Look at that!" Hart exclaimed. She made an adjustment, and the holoimage enlarged somewhat.

The fighter, in contrast to the human subjects, was of a single temperature, its entire frame showing as a light blue, in the range of about 290 Kelvin. As Hart noted this, the blue turned a faint shade lighter, indicating a drop to 289K.

"What's the Hangar temp, Doctor?" Angela asked.

Hart consulted the panel, and replied; "Two hundred ninty-eight Kelvin."

Angela turned to Doyle and said; "It looks like it's happening again, like before."

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