Through Time, Darkly

[Pryce]

[color=#FFFF00]Main Hangar bay


Denise led the way into the hangar, and with the new assistance, finally felt like she could get to work. Even if she wasn't "officially" in charge anymore. She was so pleased Samantha was here; her grounding in particle theory could certainly help, and she had always been fun to work with, in the few times they'd shared a project.


Angela and Robert had brought the Xts1 cart into the hangar, and set it up beside the fighter. Angela watched as the group came in. As Denise approached, Angela sneezed. "Excuse me." She said. Seeing the others enter the room, she glanced back at Ellis, a question in her eyes, which Denise answered; "Doctor Ross and her staff will be joining us now Angela, Doctor Ross will be heading the project from now on."


Angela hesitated, and then moved on, asking; "Is this where you want the Xts1?" pointing at the cart.


Samantha Ross nodded. "That's fine, Miss Wight." She shivered. "Certainly right about the cold." She looked around the hangar. "And the subject?"


Angela replied; "I think he's in the cabin rearward."


Denise elaborated; "His name is James Doyle. We gave him a small cabin with a bunk. It's through that hatch." She said, pointing across the room.


Ross raised an eyebrow. "Down here in the hangar? Surely it's not that crowded above. Somewhere a bit warmer perhaps?"


"I believe he prefers it down here. He expressed a desire, or rather a requirement, that he stay near his craft." Denise replied.


"Why?" The question came from Doctor Marcus Owens. He stared at the fighter, his grey eyebrows furrowed in thought.


Denise shook her head. "I don't know."

Angela Wight spoke; "Do you remember how he looked right after Tom and Robert almost shot him? And then he went bac..."


The five newcomers all turned to stare at Crowley.


He frowned. "At least it was only *almost*." He shifted uncomfortably.

Denise went on to briefly explain Doyles welcome. The staff each showed their own reactions of shock and disbelief. Angela looked frustrated, her point unfinished.


Samantha Ross spoke; "One thing is for certain. There will no longer be room for such nonsense on this project. We can't have our subject getting shot. It is bad form, and it simply won't do. Agreed?" Her voice, a faint Cambridge pronunciation, was a mix of sarcasm and seriousness. She stood solidly, despite her thin and graceful frame, and projected a certain aura of command, of aristocracy, though not of arrogance. She got a few smiles and nods in response.


Doctor Ian Graham was standing next to the fighter. "He actually flys this contraption?"


Denise nodded. "He landed it in here himself. Doctor Cook first encountered him not very far from here, and I saw him in California. We know he's been as far as Ontario, and possibly farther."


Graham shook his head. "This thing is a fossil. And look here; Alliance insignia."


Doctor Donovan snorted. "Anyone with access to a historical database could produce such designs." He looked the fighter over before adding; "And I don't see anything fossil-like about this craft. It appears fairly recently built to me."


Angela said softly; "Perhaps you might try touching it."


Only Owens seemed to hear her. He glanced at her, then at the fighter. Extending his hand, he bought his fingers closer, and closer, stopping only a few centimeters from the metal, not needing to touch it. He finally connected the temperature of the hangar with the fighter. "It must be below freezing! What's the cause?"


Doctor Ross spoke; "That's why we're here. Let's get started, shall we?"

"Wait!" Doctor Gwen Hart said. "First , we must set up the most valuable and important piece of equipment we have."


She smiled, and held up a coffee processor.

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