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+--- Thread: Through Time, Darkly (/showthread.php?tid=43616)
Through Time, Darkly - Vogel - 07-11-2010
![[Image: ttdart1.png]](http://img19.imageshack.us/img19/9746/ttdart1.png)
The Minuteman light fighter slowly cruised into the tiny maw that was the N101s hangar.
Im nuts already
His running lights reflected back on the interior walls, firing off photons that never should have arrived in Sirius for untold years.
Cant get any worse, can it? Bad question
A brief scan of his cockpit instruments. Attitude good, closure good, landing struts deployed, distance to touchdown twenty feet.
Easing ever so gently back on the throttle, James Doyle nudged the nose of his fighter down onto the floor of the bay, the forward strut letting out a kind of sighing hiss as hydraulics compensated for the force of impact. Abruptly he cut power to the engines and pulled back on the stick, finishing the zero-G landing maneuver by setting the aft struts down.
With the flick of a thumb atop the throttle, Doyle initiated the struts magnetic clamps. Two brief metallic bangs resulted as all three pads gravitated towards and held fast on the hull of the research vessel.
Landing complete. Textbook grade.
He idly wondered whether or not it was up to modern standards.
With a sigh to match the hydraulics, Doyle shut down the weapons systems, sensors, fusion engine, and main computer, all the while making sure everything responded appropriately. Usually such stinginess over preflight and postflight checks was a mark of military training, but out here it served another purpose: if something went wrong he was a thousand light years, not mention a thousand years, too far away for support. Nothing had broken down yet, thank God, but that was no insurance policy.
The bay doors had finished closing behind him; on cue, breathable atmosphere was pumped inside the hold, and the lights came on to full intensity. Green markers over the nearest doorway indicated that the hold was safe for entry.
This is it, I guess
Doyle swallowed hard; he never liked this part, no matter how necessary it was for his continued existence in this place.
He reached over with his right hand and unlocked the canopy. Servos slid it backwards along the hull, exposing the pilot underneath. Slowly, achingly, the ex-Lieutenant unlatched his breathing apparatus and took off his helmet. The smell of recycled air, oddly cleaner than what was provided in his ship, wafted through his sinuses.
One leg up and around, the second leg following, then down to the floor. He dismounted with practiced efficiency, and then stifled the oncoming pained lurch with the same. Once again he was cut off from his life line; his body simply could not handle being separated from its point of origin. Feelings of nausea and dizziness immediately followed, but Doyles mind fought to keep them at bay.
Need to stay focused, now more than ever.
He was taking an awfully big risk, he knew that very well; up to this point he had never been this exposed, this weak in front of anybody who knew of his past, of his true identity. Better yet, these people were scientists, and while they claimed to be operating independently of Big Brother there was little doubt in his mind that they would turn him right over when the time came.
An Alliance standard issue M2 sidearm was snug in a holster on his right thigh just for that reason; the safety was already off.
James Doyle suppressed a groan as he straightened his back, bringing him up to full stature.
He was a dead man, but he still had to make an impression.
Through Time, Darkly - Pryce - 07-12-2010
Pryce.Research.N101 (Modified "DL" Series Transport)
Outside Baltimore Shipyard
New York System, Liberty Space
[color=#FFCC33]Equipment room 6, outside main hanger bay.
Now what
Denise Ellis fumbled with the fittings on her hazard suit, a very new, but so far perfectly functional design that incorporated protection measures against most types of cosmic radiation within, and some outside the old GZK limit. The suits had recently come into experimental use by the Institute in its' more dangerous research fields. Doctor Morris had suggested the measure be taken until more could be learned about the nature of their guest.
Denise briefly regretted that the appearance of the suit had an inherently threatening appearance. The suits' form fitting surface was of a very dark bronze colour, combined with the full face helmet, which in order to protect the wearer, didn't actually have a visor, but a rectangular set of photoreceptor cells built into the upper half of the faceplate. The photoreceptors tended to luminesce in indirect light, creating the effect of a faint red glow. There were two modular cylinders clamped to the right side of the helmet; which, depending on the intended use, might house a variety of various detectors or imagers. Today there was a sodium iodide detector, and below that a neutron/tachyon REM meter with bulit-in boron trifluoride counter. The helmet took the "clean" image from the photoreceptors, and whatever additional attached modules, and after washing the information through the processor at the back of the helmet, projected the final image into the goggles within the helmet; a colour image of the outside world, with a computer-generated overlay of the additional module information, in this case the appearance of semi-transparent blue or yellow particles within the image. The whole affair cost over a million credits each, not counting the millions more spent on development. Plus the damn thing was uncomfortably hot to wear even for short periods.
Angela Wight stood beside her, a lithe and slender form in the suit, attaching a small air line to the back of Nickatellis' helmet. Wights features were concealed by her helmet, for which she was glad. She didn't advertise it, but radiation scared her.The idea of.....well, her breathing was already fast, her heart beating faster. Or maybe it was the nature of this....person...on their ship. Under the helmet her eyes were wide. She had experienced less apprehension upon the few times they had encountered Nomads. She fought for focus, winning as she usually did. She finished the connection and tapped Nickatellis' shoulder.
Elias Nickatelli frowned beneath his helmet. He'd asked Captain Wells to check out a plasma rifle from the armoury, when Denise had quickly objected, persuading Wells to deny his request. Stupid woman He frowned again. She manipulated the Captain far too often, and someday it was going to get them killed.It was the same recklessness that had led him to transfer off David Ellis' ship, a decision which had saved his life. This woman had the same lack of concern for their hides shared by her dead husband, though up till now Captain Wells had been calling the shots.
Nickatelli wasn't a scientist. He served as something of an orderly or lab assistant, understanding the operation of various equipment, if not the details of the knowledge the equipment obtained. He was also the closest thing the ship had to a master-at-arms, one of only six on the ship with prior military service. Servce which he had despised. Not that he hadn't learned anything from it. This intruder, without a strong defense deterrent, could, and just might, take the entire vessel by himself.This is why a deterrent must be in place. These bunch of science types never seemed to realize that, even with the number of their colleagues that had been killed, violently, in the last three years.He frowned again.
He didn't believe for a second this man was what he said he was. He was clearly crazy or a liar. Either of which is a damn dangerous thing out in the black. It didn't matter what readings the equipment took. It was coincidental...or faked somehow. He would be watching this man very close. He wished he'd had time to grab his personal pistol from his quarters.
**Comms check, Denise, can you hear us?** Wells, from the bridge.
The response crackled in their earpieces; **This is Denise, we're all ready to go here. How's it going out there?**
The Bridge
Captain Nathan Wells answered. "Our guest has commenced his landing sequence, should settle in any second now. Give him a minute to finish powering down before you go in. I'm watching the hangar from a feed up here. Stand by for clearance to enter the bay.
**Acknowledged**
Wells turned off the comm mic and turned to crewman Nathaniel Keane. "Ready to go Nathan?"
The crewman nodded. "Yes sir. preparing to pressurize the hangar. If the guest is a danger, I can instantly vent the hangar bay of atmo. As long as the team is wearing the suits, they'll still be fine. Wells nodded. "Good. Get me the hanger feed." He sat in the large Captains chair, and swung the suspended monitor panel closer. He trusted Denise's impressions of the situation, but ever a cautious man, he preferred to plan ahead when he could. It wasn't so much the "guest" himself that concerned him, it was more the concept that his presence could be dangerous to the ship somehow, if this story of his origin were true. He didn't really have an opinion in the matter, that was up to the labcoats to decide.
The video feed showed movement. A ship sliding into the hanger. It moved delicately, slowly, setting down with such precision Wells concluded the craft had an autoland A.I. active.
Keane spoke. "He's touched down, closing the bay doors, pressuizing the hangar..........docking procedure complete.
Wells keyed the comm as the pilot was exiting the craft.
Equipment room 6, outside main hanger bay.
**All clear Denise, the hangar is green for entry.**
Denise swallowed, took a breath, and activated the hatch controls.
Through Time, Darkly - Vogel - 07-12-2010
The door slid open, as expected. People walked through, as expected.
They looked like they were wearing sun-diving equipment. Not so expected.
Doyle suppressed a grin; the thought of him being dangerous, as opposed to everyone else being dangerous to him, had with it a hint of irony. But he shook the thought just as quickly as it had come about.
Concentrate. Figure out their motives; body language.
The three suited figures walked up; two obviously female, too light and lithe in build, the third almost definitely a man with broad shoulders. It wasnt hard to see a prospective issue here, even without getting a look at their faces: the two women were slower, cautious, perhaps nervous, but the man was deliberate, measured, defensive.
Bodyguard or something? Dont doubt it, probably protocol
The queasiness in his gut threatened to goad his primal instincts into running. He was vulnerable, even with his military fitness, even with his sidearm.
Cant. Too committed now.
For the past several years, his etiquette mandated a salute to superior officers. If they were not officers of any sort, hed shake their hand. And while curious as to know whether or not the shaking of hands was still a custom these people retained, Doyle figured theyd have recoiled regardless; touch the thing theyre wearing SPF 1000 in order to be in the same room with? Never.
So he just stood there and waited, trying to keep the nervousness, let alone the pain and nausea, from his face. He gave them a curt nod and said, quite simply, Lieutenant James Doyle, Ninety-second International Volunteers. And you are?
Through Time, Darkly - Pryce - 07-13-2010
Pryce.Research.N101
New York System, Liberty Space
[color=#FFFF00]Main Hangar bay
Staring at the honest and direct man in front of them, Denise suddenly felt rather silly in her hazard suit. But still In what she hoped was a subtle and unobtrusive movement, she made what might have seemed a pointless brush across the side of her helmet, keying the N/T REM meter.There was a quiet beep within the helmet and the units processor began to record data, in both the visable and the invisable spectrum. Her view consisted of Doyle, his ship, and a fairly drab looking cargo bay. An instant later the image overlay popped into place, and a faint transparent haze cluttered the view, an indication of a fairly normal particle enviroment........an image of the usual cosmic ray particle traffic, present most everywhere in the universe. It was not really visable of course, but more of a computer conjecture of the ebb and flow of the unseen torrent. Nothing She squinted inside the helmet; Wait. What's... She suddenly became aware that the others had been waiting for her to speak. What WAS that? Gone now She hesitated an instant more before speaking, the voice emanating from a speaker mounted in the upper left shoulder of the suit.
She decided the occasion called for a certain amount of formality, perhaps subconsiously knowing her mentor would have decided the same. She inadvertently slipped into her "academic voice", speaking with a curious evenness, and choosing her words perhaps a shade too precisely.
"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Doyle. I am Research Associate Denise Ellis of the Pryce Institute." Gesturing to the others, she continued; "This is Research Assistant Angela Wight, and Mr Elias Nickatelli, one of our operations technicians. It is a pleasure to have you with us." She smiled beneath the helmet, heedless that it was not visable, and continued; "My colleagues and I, with your assistance and cooperation, intend to determine how and why it is you arrived in the Sirius Sector, and along the way, to determine what that could mean for the human understanding of science." The man nodded slightly, around the time it struck Ellis of the oddness of introducing a trio of identical helmets. Right then
Angela spoke suddenly. "Did you see it? You saw it didn't you?" The voice cracked slightly towards the end of the sentence.
Ellis turned to her and replied; "Angela, not now." Denise fiddled with the clamps at the rear of her helmet as she spoke again; "I am concluding that there is no serious threat to the ship or crew at present. There are slightly increased levels of non-ionizing radiation, a little higher then normal for this part of space, but within acceptab.."But!" Angela interrupted again,then fell silent.
Ellis pulled off the helmet, her forehead and hair damp with sweat. Her blond hair was far too long to ever be comfortable under the helmet, though she had put off cutting it as long as possible. The air in the bay seemed cold, no doubt because of the heat of the helmet. Nickatelli, who hadn't spoken or moved in the past minutes, removed his helmet, pausing at the feeling the "open" air of the bay. He then resumed staring at the guest, his eyes lingering on the holster at the strangers thigh. Angela kept her helmet on, seeming to be looking at the docked fighter.
Denise didn't seem to notice, and smiled at Doyle; "Lieutenant, I hope you understand, we had to take certain basic precautions. Now, would you like something to eat? Our cook can probably beat whatever they're serving on freeports these days."
Through Time, Darkly - Vogel - 07-13-2010
The guy was a bodyguard alright. Eyes snapped right at the sidearm. His hunch was right.
Doyle swallowed and tried to keep a look of consternation from crossing his face. Not the best thing to be right about.
Official, educated, Ellis was calling the shots in spite of a paranoid guard and what appeared to be an even more paranoid assistant. Or was she paranoid? That other woman, the one whod kept her helmet on. Maybe the guard took his off alongside Ellis because he wouldnt know the difference, wasnt his job, but the other
Not like anyone died on Freeport One when I was around though
Back to business.
Food, still a traditional form of greeting and generosity. The thought that some of it was spiked, laced with something, be it poison, anesthetics, or even some kind of tracer material, flittered through the Lieutenants mind. But the gut-wrenching feeling of nausea flittered through the Lieutenants stomach, and far be it for him to think without that organ.
Uh, no thanks, Ill be alright for now, Im good, he stammered. He could never get used to this feeling, like looming death, threatening to pull him to the ground. But he was getting better at bracing it, although needless to say he tended to eat while still sitting in his fighter.
He suppressed a wince.
I rejected their hospitality. This isnt going anywhere; still distant, wary.
Then again the woman with the helmet wasnt helping much either.
So, I take it you guys have some kind of procedure, stuff to look for? he continued on, trying to divert the subject.
Through Time, Darkly - Pryce - 07-15-2010
[color=#33FF33]Pryce.Research.N101
New York System, Liberty Space
[color=#FFFF00]Main Hangar bay
Denise blinked. Straight to business then She noticed Doyle seemed a little tense.
Maybe he isn't feeling well
"Yes Lieutenant. We are going to follow the scientific method as closely as possible in order to figure this out." She considered briefly how to proceed before adding; "It's going to be interesting as we'll have to account for both a change of space and time. We want to find out how you got here, and how your presence affects the enviroment around you. We're going to need quite a bit of information from you Lieutenant, where you were, what you were doing before you arrived here. We'll want to run a number scans of both yourself, and of your vessel, in order to glean as much data as possible. Once we've gathered this data, we'll consider what it might mean. We'll put together some theories based on what the data suggests about your presence. "
The possibilty that he's fresh out of an asylum Nickatelli thought to himself. Don't forget that He frowned, very faintly. I have to get to Doctor Morris before she does
Denise was still speaking; "Once we have some real ideas to work with, we'll need to conduct some experiments....... (At that word, Denise thought Doyle had perhaps twitched slightly, so she continued quickly-)... particle generation, computer simulations, that sort of thing."
Denise glanced at Angela Wight briefly, who had wandered further down the hanger bay. The figure seemed to be staring at the Minuteman fighter intently. Denise considered what she had just said. I can't have him thinking I'm going to turn him into a labrat.... But aren't I? How can I get him to trust me?
She stepped closer to Doyle, looking him carefully in the eye. She spoke somewhat softer than before;
"All of this is not something that can be done quickly. There is a great deal of work to be done. I'd like you to consider staying with us for awhile. I'm certain we can provide for most of your needs. We can conduct the work on one of our ships, or perhaps at our main facility on planet Los Angeles; whichever you feel most comfortable with." She glanced at the Minuteman. "I'd ensure that you have access to your vessel at all times; you'd be quite free to leave whenever you wished. "
Through Time, Darkly - Vogel - 07-15-2010
Cooped up, probed, the works. Typical, expected, disconcerting.
The promise of being able to leave whenever he wanted was nice, but in truth the ex-Lieutenant knew that the only thing that really ensured this was his weapon. There were no laws to be enforced in his favor, and the word of one person was easily betrayed. In the grim reality he had grown up in, it was readily apparent that force was the sole power available to any man, let alone any soldier.
And the Coalition had more force.
Doyle looked down at his feet, as if studying the rivets in the floor with the eye of a curator, before looking back up, returning Denises direct stare.
I get it, he started, But for both our sakes I hope youre telling the truth.
A harsh implication; really his situation was more dire than theirs as far as he could tell but the ever-present sidearm on his hip stood as judicator.
I dont think I need to tell you how messed up this all is, or how scared out of my mind I am. But frankly in the past few weeks Ive gone through more stuff than Ive ever thought possible.
His expression hardened; memories of your entire home system exploding before your eyes tended to bring down spirits.
Now I just want answers. Do what you need to do, and Ill do what I need to do.
The movement of the woman with the helmet still donned caught his attention. Shifting his weight, Doyle glanced over and saw that she was moving steadily, if cautiously, towards his fighter.
By the way, he half shouted, Try touching it.
Jaxs parting comments sprung to mind.
Ill bet you every Alliance credit I dont have that its cold to the touch. Real cold.
Almost painfully cold. But not to him. One more thing he needed an explanation for.
Through Time, Darkly - Pryce - 07-18-2010
Pryce.Research.N101
New York System, Liberty Space
Main Hangar bay
Angela Wight turned sharply at the voice, seemingly having forgotten the others were there. She hesitated a moment, then spoke;
"I can see it." She said, indicating the infared sensor pack attached to her helmet. "When we first walked in, the exterior temperature of Mister Doyles' vessel was around two hundred and fifty-three degrees Kelvin."
Nickatelli interrupted; "So what? It just came in from space. Of course it's cold."
Angela tilted her head slightly, her helmet concealing an expression of irritation. "So normally, anything entering this hanger would instantly begin to rise in temperature, once meeting the controlled enviroment of this hangar."
"So?" Nickatelli replied.
"So, what makes this craft special, is that since it has been here, it has dropped in external temperature, to two hundred forty nine degrees Kelvin."
Nickatelli stared uncomfortably at the fighter, and remained silent.
There was a slight reverberation along the length of the bulkheads, which Nickatelli recognized as the sound of the ship docking with something, apparently another ship, as this ones engines were still silent.
Ellis, ignoring the noise, frowned slightly, and spoke;
"I think we should check that sensor package Angela, it may not be functioning correctly."
Angela answered; "I calibrated it right before we came in." She looked at Doyle. "Mister Doyle. For the first couple of minutes after you left your ship, You were two hundred and fifty-three degrees Kelvin. Now you're about normal human body temp."
Ellis looked at Doyle sharply; "What?" She shook her head. "That's not possible. A human body can't survive at that temperature, period, let alone move around."
Angela answered; "Regardless, that's what I saw."
Through Time, Darkly - Vogel - 07-18-2010
Doyles brows furrowed almost out of reflex. He was no scientist, but he knew that two hundred and fifty Kelvin for a body temperature wouldve made him a frozen chunk of organs.
So youre telling me that people arent just imagining this junk, he said slowly, And that my bird and I are literally freezing? How does that work? Why cant I feel a thing?
He knew things were afoot that were beyond his control and comprehension; this much was already very apparent to him. But time travel and nonsense aside, now he was literally breaking the bounds of physical science?
If only I knew how to do this fancy crap before the damned Coalition pushed us back to Pluto, mightve had a chance against the bastards
Confusion, mixing with his nausea, was weakening his knees. Another breath, a stern muscle pinch. In control, everythings fine
Except it wasnt. It took a moment or two to register it, but the old warriors survival paranoia once more kicked in.
What was that? he asked quickly, That bump just now. What was it, debris? Docking clamps? What are we docking with? His tone was heightening in pitch as he spoke faster. The hand closest to his sidearm twitched slightly without him noticing it.
Trap? Trick? Docked with the local Navys battleship? About to be stormed by commandos? Prison station? Some hidden dissecting lab hidden God knew where? Attack? Some stupid mistake? Somebody vent a space toilet somewhere on board?
He couldnt help but glare at Ellis.
Through Time, Darkly - Pryce - 07-18-2010
[color=#FFFF00]The Bridge
Watching the feed from the bridge console, Captain Nathan Wells spoke; "I don't like the look of this." He turned to the man at the console beside him, and said; "Tom , here's a cardkey. I want you to get Robert, and go check out a couple rifles out of the armory. I want you outside the hatch to that hangar. Do not enter unless I give the go. Right now. Move." Damnit. Should have had them ready before he landed. Nickatelli was right
[color=#FFFF00]Main Hangar bay
It was at this moment Denise noticed the pistol for the first time, and the sight of it made her blood run cold. She thought she had considered all the dangers, taking the time for the hazard suits, a careful check before the helmet came off. For some reason she hadn't even considered the possibility that the Lieutenant himself could be a threat to them.
She stared into the wide eyes of the visitor, eyes that cut through her, and she was afraid. He looks exhausted She thought. Like He's on the edge of a breakdown.....or past it. This could get out of control.
"We'll find out what the noise was, I'll find out....But please, please Lieutenant, calm down. I need you to relax, alright?"
The Lieutenant said nothing, and Denise slowly walked back towards the wall. I need to make my intentions clear "Alright. I'm going to call the Captain, okay? I'll ask him what that sound was, and then we can figure out where to go from there." She tried hard to keep her voice steady and even, only partly succeeding. She reached the bulkhead next to the communications panel, and turned to face Doyle. She suddenly noticed Nickatelli had come to within a meter of Doyle,at his left shoulder, as Doyles attention had been focused on Denise against the bulkhead.
Oh no, Elias, don't