A box that latches. [Dan takes a breath and takes the medical kit from his side, starts to empty it out. It's got a metal latch, the kind lunchboxes do, but it's likely the best they have for the moment. Maybe they'll set it under something heavy. It's not like there are any civilians left to use the contents of the kit on, and Dan needs to wipe some disinfectant over his cuts anyway.
He stops what he's doing when the Counselor continues. ]
Three survivors of the human race? [Dan's not sure why it matters, why he asked. One of the only survivors of anything is traumatic, whether it's a plane crash or a team or a species or, in Dan's case, a family curse.] Sorry. I'm sorry about your...about the Director.
[He's not sure if the Counselor's referring to a friend or just a colleague, but one way or another the tale is sad.]
no subject
He stops what he's doing when the Counselor continues. ]
Three survivors of the human race? [Dan's not sure why it matters, why he asked. One of the only survivors of anything is traumatic, whether it's a plane crash or a team or a species or, in Dan's case, a family curse.] Sorry. I'm sorry about your...about the Director.
[He's not sure if the Counselor's referring to a friend or just a colleague, but one way or another the tale is sad.]