crossing_lostrp | Day 9 Onward and away

purplerhino.livejournal.com posting in

After a breakfast of pop-tarts (all the toaster would make) and coffee, the assembled guests stuffed what goods they could into packs and such. Rose produced an extra backpack that was filled with rice and pasta.

The two bags of flour were left behind because of weight. But nutrition bars were packed. As were the Oscial mender and the spare dermal regenerator.

Once outside the TARDIS, they all traverled together to the beach, where the Tranmitter team helped Faith and Mara pack. They carried a map to Camp Crash and a note writen in Ancient.

'Daniel,

This is Faith and Mara. Faith is an old aquiantance of Tara's. They will tell you their story. They have not lied in my presence, and seem genuine enough. Hope to see you in two days with good news. By the way, introduce Faith to Ripley. They seem to have a bit in common.

Doctor'

P.S. Rose said if Sawyer goes anywhere near her kit, please break his fingers.'

Faith and Mara couldn't read it, but were told the gist of it.

They parted good naturedly, and each set off in the oposite direction. One set towards realitive safety, the other towards the unknown.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

lost-mckay.livejournal.com

Finishing up the descent (though not without a couple of scrapes from bumps) and having held on to the point of white-knuckles, McKay stepped away from the rope and shifted what he still carried. He looked around nervously before taking the light from the Doctor and switched it on. 'Don't shine it in anyone's faces,' he reminded himself. 'Keep it down.'

"Right." McKay made the grand attempt to sound, well, not anywhere near as afraid as he felt right at that moment. Dark but for the torches. Something... and he swung around and looked at the Doctor before following his attention around to Jon.

"What? Wh-wh-what is it?"

Nothing like something to make the scientist more nervous than he already was. "This might be a bad time, but I'm claustrophobic..." McKay took a deep breath, his regard shifting from one person to another to another. Caves are just not his thing.

'Wide open fields. Wiiide open fields...'

From:

sophiedb.livejournal.com

"Nothing we can do anything about.." he began slowly, still watching in case she - or anyone else - came back. "They know we're down here, and one of them just relieved Rose of that t-shirt she picked up in the TARDIS."

Relatively certain that she was gone, Jon switched his attention back to the Doctor and Rodney. "There was a redhead on the clifftop, seemed kinda amused with our things - or maybe just us. Either way we shouldn't stay too long."

He beckoned to Sayid and reclaimed his gun without too much trouble, muttering his thanks to the Iraqi as he checked it over, wondering what the hell his world was coming to all the while. With any luck the 'communications officer' would go look for that transmitter with the alien and their friendly neighborhood genius.

"Ok Rodney, go to your happy place. Nice big lab full of doohickeys and single-doctorates to yell at, how's that? Now follow the nice Doctor and do your thing."

Jon stopped mid-flow, stamping down on the urge to give orders. God that was hard, given the group's vulnerability right now. This cave might be the best place to fend off an attack, but it wasn't like they had a decent supply of ammo - let alone food and water.

"Hey Doc, you guys go ahead. Us non-techies can keep out of your way and watch the door."

From:

purplerhino.livejournal.com

The Doctor was slightly amused at Jon's sudden sense of command, but more that the boy made sense. If the Outsiders knew where they were, they'd need the guards to keep the wolves outside.

"Rodney, there is an open cave mouth right here. Lots of fresh air coming in. Good circulation." He pointed out, his voice sympathetic.

He followed his hears to the mechanical hum. It was back 18 or so meters. The further back they got, the hotter it became. It had to be 35 degrees in the back of the cave. Luckily they could clearly see the mouth. Rodney's claustrophobia should be eased at least a small amount. Although the heat might just counteract it. Made it a bit stifling.

The Transmitter was the size of a mobile sterea in from the late 70's early 80's. It would have had to be small enough for a lone woman to carry down here. There was three wires stuck into a crack in the floor, and the crack sealed with some sort of epoxy. They had wires leading to the transmitter.

"Like you thought, geothermal. I bet those lead to steam vents or the like." The Doctor pointed out.

The transmitter was near 20 years old, and the casing was getting very rusty from the moisture in the cave.

Rpse shed her pack and handed it over to the two men.

"Hey, look at this." She swung her torch a bit to the left to reveal a goodly coil of nylon rope, with a grapple on one end. "Must be how she got down with the load. But how did she get the grapple loose so she could leave it here?"

From:

lost-mckay.livejournal.com

'Wide open fields...'

Unfortunately, the dark of the cave with the torches as the main light sources didn't help much, he stared at Jon for a long moment before looking up again, blue eyes searching for the now departed redhead. His expression was one of a scowl, and dropping his regard back down, looked once again between the Doctor and Jon.

If the Doctor was amused at Jon's brief moment of command, the astrophysicist was not. The key to McKay is that he needed to be told what to do up until the moment he didn't. Might be a little odd, but others were better than he in the whole 'survival' bit, and he was better than others in the technical bit. Made for a very good relationship; one that he was quite comfortable with and he wasn't about to change it anytime soon. As a result, he nodded silently at the mini-general and began to move off, glancing at the cave mouth when pointed out.

"Great. A way out?"

Still, McKay pushed forward towards where the transmitter would be, following the hum of machinery. Reaching it, he did notice the temperature rising which elicited a couple nervous glances around the immediate area. Steam vents had to be in the area, and if the radio is tapping into the ground, the ground was undoubtedly a little warmer than usual, to the point where he could feel it through his sneakers.

Rodney took the pack and looked briefly around for a place to put the pack down where it wouldn't get too overheated, mumbling something about mil spec and heat shielding. As far as he was concerned, nothing around him now was his concern as he approached the transmitter once more and studied its construction, its setup. Tracking the wires towards the connection underground, McKay pauses, his head canted to one side. There has to be a generator under there, which means he'd be able to boot up his laptop, which means they've got more to work with than he'd hoped.

He rose to his feet, grabbed the bag that he'd been carrying on his back, and pulled out 'old faithful', though it is a different one from his usual 'work'. Still, it had everything he figured he could possibly need, including all his interface algorithms, his data compression program (which might come in handy), and random bits of formulae gathered over the last year. The only thing it doesn't have is a giant 'Atlantis' sticker on the top.

It only took him a total of a couple minutes to get himself setup before his attention once more went to the radio itself. Need to measure output, need to figure out the frequency, the modulations, the potential total output once the signal passed the rocks, and before the EM... McKay was now oblivious to all that happened around him, focused as he was on the job before him.

From:

purplerhino.livejournal.com

"This is part of a ships GMDSS unit. The NAVTEX has been stripped. We have the high frequency radiotelephone, broadcasting the prerecorded message, and there's the EPIRB. Fantastic!"

"Care to make it simple for those of us not sporting a degree or two?" Rose held her torch steady on the rusty unit, so both men could work.

"In 1979 the International Maritime Organization made a lovely little rule that all ships should have a Global Maritime Distress Safety System. It had everything a ship would need for talking ship to ship internationally, but it also had an Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon. That rusty black cylinder there. It also had a system for sending out navigational warnings and weather forecasts, but that was stripped here to reduce weight and power usage. This is an Inmarsat C setup. No big bloomin antennae needed.”

The Doctor knelt down and opened McKay’s toolbox. “We’ll need a Phillips screwdriver.”

“You mean your screwdriver doesn’t unscrew things?” Rose half chuckled.

“Course it does. But it’s also sonic. And with all this rust, it might make the casing, and who knows what inside shake apart into dust. Best go primitive.” The Doctor looked to Rodney who was lost in his laptop, figuring out exactly what they’d need to punch through the temporal bubble and breach the EMF, with its wild fluctuations.

((OOC: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Global_Maritime_Distress_Safety_System
if you're interested. ::smirk:: I love Wikki.))

From:

lost-mckay.livejournal.com

Shweet. I love wiki too. :)

From:

starborn-scribe.livejournal.com

Nice job with the research! *high-five*

From:

lost-mckay.livejournal.com

As Rodney worked on his own bit, his eyes glanced between the box and his laptop before he shook his head at the Doctor's excitement while wiping at the sweat coming to his brow. His tones were almost dismissive, working in the pessimistic registers as a hand came up to wave in gesture.

"Yes, and if the box was registered, whatever it was that carried it has already been crossed off the map 16 years ago. There is that 'golden day'. Beyond that, no one has any hope that it'll be a saving, but more a 'recovery'. And that, boys and girls, people are ready to believe that the sharks have taken care of that..." He wasn't willing to give up, however.

Still, if he and the doctor can play with the innards, which, as a matter of fact, is pretty much the point, they can raise the rescue odds if only by letting them know that they're alive and to warn them about the temporal shift. There were certainly people who can address that outside, as long as it's known, that is. Of course, he didn't need to tell the Doctor what boards to pull, which to check...

Before any other questions, comments or all around scowling could be done, McKay went back to his work, obviously ignoring everyone and everything around him. Even if prodded, it was unlikely that he would respond. After all, if speed is expected, and that is something that is likely, then he has to be given what he needed.

From:

sophiedb.livejournal.com

Settling himself just inside the cave mouth, Jon tuned out what sounded like the Doctor's enthusiastic ramblings and watched the world outside with barely contained restlessness. He could be still and quiet for hours if need be, maybe even days, however patience had never been one of his virtues (presuming that he had any at all). Understanding the need for it was one thing, and exercising it when necessary wasn't a problem, but that didn't mean Jon had to like sitting on his ass, waiting for whatever it was the Clan of Cave Bear was planning this time. The fact that he was also waiting for a bunch of geeks to pull old wiring apart also didn't help, although the Doctor didn't seem much of a slouch and McKay had plenty of experience in thinking his way round unusual gizmos these days.

Jon looked over to Tara and Ash's positions, also somewhat concealed from the outside, then Sayid, who'd chosen to secrete himself outside and watch the cliff itself. The Iraqi shook his head slightly: nothing visible out there then, and nothing from this vantage either. Not knowing was almost as bad as waiting, and he really hated being toyed with.

Still, there were other ways to pass the time and it wasn't like the Others didn't know where they were already. Acting like they didn't give a crap might actually speed things up.

"I spy with my little eye, something beginning with.. T."

"Tara," Ash responded instantly, his grin a little on the lecherous side as he shifted into what was probably meant to be a heroic, protective stance.

Jon rolled his eyes and snorted: he'd met teenagers with more tracks than this guy, though he was funny. "Bzzzzzt, wrong answer. Next!"

After much examination of their surroundings, Tara came up with a suggestion. "Trainers?"

"Huh?" Jon blinked, sharing a confused glance with Ash. "Trainers of what? Where?"

She blushed and shook her head. "Don't worry, I've been in England too long - that's what they call sneakers.. like the ones on your feet."

"Oookay.. moving on?" Too much thinking going on in that head.

Ash crossed his arms confidently this time, that jaw jutting out with victorious pride.

"Trees," the man drawled.

"Now that's more like it," Jon beamed his approval. Simplicity at it's best, and there were a hell of a lot of them - as per frickin' usual. "Your turn!"