[Daniel] Working it Out
Who: Daniel
Where: Mini-Bunker, Jail/Observation Station
When: Day 20, late night/Day 21, early morning
Invited: Anyone
Status: Complete [Closed]
The Wraith threat was, as far as they knew, ended. Daniel had been angry, frustrated and annoyed by the news brought back from the beach camp. Not because he was foolish enough to think that he could have done anything to help those they lost - (and yes, he was foolish enough to think that even if he wouldn't admit that foolish weakness aloud) - but because it was a waste. Every person at that camp had been told about the bunker and given the option to come here. Sure, the quarters would be close and the outside would probably have looked like a refugee camp, but the bunker was a safe zone. They had a few injuries here, and those had been from people who went hunting the Wraith, not civilians.
And even after the attack, for one reason or another they insisted on staying on the beach. "It's familiar," or "Are we really safer anywhere on the island?" were the excuses given. Familiarity hadn't saved their lives.
Daniel hadn't been able to save their lives.
An axe from the supply closet and twenty minutes alone with an innocent sapling had done enough to curb Daniel's frustration and return him to a point where he could deal with people again. No one commented on the dirt on his face, the redness of his eyes, or the sweat and woodchips that covered his body when he returned to the bunker.
He stayed just long enough to turn the bunker's control over to Blaise, then armed with the laptop they'd confiscated from DHARMA and a flashlight, he headed over to the observation station. Daniel searched every square inch and was on the verge of radioing for the Doctor or Rodney when he found what he was looking for: on the north side of the building, buried beneath overgrowth was a large metal box. Two whacks with the axe and the lock fell off, and the doors opened to reveal a generator.
Daniel wasn't Carter and he wasn't McKay, but he'd spent enough time around the former - and now the latter - to have picked up a little by osmosis. That had to be the only explanation. Hankering down on his knees, Daniel plunged in, only mildly surprised to see that the generator was some sort of modified alien technology. Particularly crystal technology.
An hour later, the deserted station was powered up.
Inside was still dreary and drab, even more so with the lights showing the rust and mildew and overgrowth of better days. Daniel didn't care about that. What he cared about were the observation screens and the cells which now had force field walls as their cell doors.
It was time to move their "prisoners" and time to get some answers.
Where: Mini-Bunker, Jail/Observation Station
When: Day 20, late night/Day 21, early morning
Invited: Anyone
Status: Complete [Closed]
The Wraith threat was, as far as they knew, ended. Daniel had been angry, frustrated and annoyed by the news brought back from the beach camp. Not because he was foolish enough to think that he could have done anything to help those they lost - (and yes, he was foolish enough to think that even if he wouldn't admit that foolish weakness aloud) - but because it was a waste. Every person at that camp had been told about the bunker and given the option to come here. Sure, the quarters would be close and the outside would probably have looked like a refugee camp, but the bunker was a safe zone. They had a few injuries here, and those had been from people who went hunting the Wraith, not civilians.
And even after the attack, for one reason or another they insisted on staying on the beach. "It's familiar," or "Are we really safer anywhere on the island?" were the excuses given. Familiarity hadn't saved their lives.
Daniel hadn't been able to save their lives.
An axe from the supply closet and twenty minutes alone with an innocent sapling had done enough to curb Daniel's frustration and return him to a point where he could deal with people again. No one commented on the dirt on his face, the redness of his eyes, or the sweat and woodchips that covered his body when he returned to the bunker.
He stayed just long enough to turn the bunker's control over to Blaise, then armed with the laptop they'd confiscated from DHARMA and a flashlight, he headed over to the observation station. Daniel searched every square inch and was on the verge of radioing for the Doctor or Rodney when he found what he was looking for: on the north side of the building, buried beneath overgrowth was a large metal box. Two whacks with the axe and the lock fell off, and the doors opened to reveal a generator.
Daniel wasn't Carter and he wasn't McKay, but he'd spent enough time around the former - and now the latter - to have picked up a little by osmosis. That had to be the only explanation. Hankering down on his knees, Daniel plunged in, only mildly surprised to see that the generator was some sort of modified alien technology. Particularly crystal technology.
An hour later, the deserted station was powered up.
Inside was still dreary and drab, even more so with the lights showing the rust and mildew and overgrowth of better days. Daniel didn't care about that. What he cared about were the observation screens and the cells which now had force field walls as their cell doors.
It was time to move their "prisoners" and time to get some answers.