[ Another week, another murder, but this time, he didn't give a damn in the slightest. Truth be told, it was a little hard for him to do so after this past week especially. Sleeping during the trial, while disrespectful on the surface, was actually the most peaceful sleep he'd had in several days. It's ironic, and he realizes it, but now the place he feels most secure is in a room full of people. He couldn't trust any of them, but he could trust that they wouldn't murder him in a room full of people. None of them had the balls to do it.
But, hey. It worked for him. Well-rested for once, he can take up a task he's been wanting to get to. It's the sort of detail-oriented work that he hadn't quite felt up to the task of taking, but now, it's something he's actually willing to stay up all night working on.
A silver arm has been laying on the desk since he had returned from the med-bay, and since the robotics lab had opened, he had plifered a few tools for his own use. It's nothing extravagant, and certainly nothing you could kill with (unless you were creative, which, granted, he is), but an assortment of small screwdrivers, cables, and pliers will get the job done, he figures. Jack pours himself a glass of booze for the work, the same one that he had shared with Rhys, and he settles at his desk with a tired groan of effort. The problem was, this was going to be an absolute bitch one-handed.
He puts on his glasses, another surprisingly private sign of weakness that Jack only reveals when he's alone, and then sets his work music to start (Taylor Swift and related artists, of course), and he gets to work in earnest. First it's a matter of exposing the internal components of the arm, but that's easier said than done. He uses his tools as best he can, but it's not something that comes easily to him. There's a fair amount of cursing, but nothing actually longer than a murmured out phrase for quite a while. Though eventually, as he starts to pry open that arm, he does end up laughing and sort of idly talks to himself. ]
For fuck's-- Finally. Goddamn, this arm was sure built better than your first one, kiddo. Spent the big money for the upgrade, huh?
[ He shifts, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as he leans closer to inspect the wiring. He's poking through it, clearly looking for something, but he keeps talking. ]
...Probably should have guessed it sooner. 'Course that was a lie. But noooooo, Jack, you just have to give the kid a chance, because, hey, like what you did with the hair. Or something. Pffft. So friggin' stupid. Always trusting people I know I goddamn shouldn't...
[ He trails off in concentration, but pulls a bit of wire away from the rest as he follows it up the arm. He has to pause a few times to remove more metal with care, but eventually, he makes it up to what he's looking for: the arm's hard-drive. ]
There we go.
[ He unplugs the cable, then carefully removes it, only to start digging through the cables he's brought with him. None of them are going to fit the hard-drive as is, but it doesn't particularly matter for Jack. He didn't expect it to. He inspects the connection, then leans back as he starts taking the cables and stripping them, making a very crude, haphzard one that will on his own. After all, despite all of his natural talent as a leader, he had started out much more humble than that. This was the kind of stuff he used to do as a kid for fun. Jack works on it for a while, but eventually, he exhales a sigh as he still seems to be mulling over something. ]
...Don't get it, though. It doesn't make any goddamn sense, since if he wanted to screw me over, he had-- I dunno. Six weeks, there was definitely six weeks to do that. I mean, hell, he could've killed me. Had plenty of chances, since I didn't think he'd screw me. So, why pretend-- Ahhhh.
[ He cuts off with a frustrated noise, but it doesn't take him much longer to finish his hack job of cabling. After that, it's easy enough to connect the hard-drive to his data pad, after which, he won't say much more. He'll have to concentrate to see just what he can recover here. ]
week 7 - sunday night
But, hey. It worked for him. Well-rested for once, he can take up a task he's been wanting to get to. It's the sort of detail-oriented work that he hadn't quite felt up to the task of taking, but now, it's something he's actually willing to stay up all night working on.
A silver arm has been laying on the desk since he had returned from the med-bay, and since the robotics lab had opened, he had plifered a few tools for his own use. It's nothing extravagant, and certainly nothing you could kill with (unless you were creative, which, granted, he is), but an assortment of small screwdrivers, cables, and pliers will get the job done, he figures. Jack pours himself a glass of booze for the work, the same one that he had shared with Rhys, and he settles at his desk with a tired groan of effort. The problem was, this was going to be an absolute bitch one-handed.
He puts on his glasses, another surprisingly private sign of weakness that Jack only reveals when he's alone, and then sets his work music to start (Taylor Swift and related artists, of course), and he gets to work in earnest. First it's a matter of exposing the internal components of the arm, but that's easier said than done. He uses his tools as best he can, but it's not something that comes easily to him. There's a fair amount of cursing, but nothing actually longer than a murmured out phrase for quite a while. Though eventually, as he starts to pry open that arm, he does end up laughing and sort of idly talks to himself. ]
For fuck's-- Finally. Goddamn, this arm was sure built better than your first one, kiddo. Spent the big money for the upgrade, huh?
[ He shifts, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as he leans closer to inspect the wiring. He's poking through it, clearly looking for something, but he keeps talking. ]
...Probably should have guessed it sooner. 'Course that was a lie. But noooooo, Jack, you just have to give the kid a chance, because, hey, like what you did with the hair. Or something. Pffft. So friggin' stupid. Always trusting people I know I goddamn shouldn't...
[ He trails off in concentration, but pulls a bit of wire away from the rest as he follows it up the arm. He has to pause a few times to remove more metal with care, but eventually, he makes it up to what he's looking for: the arm's hard-drive. ]
There we go.
[ He unplugs the cable, then carefully removes it, only to start digging through the cables he's brought with him. None of them are going to fit the hard-drive as is, but it doesn't particularly matter for Jack. He didn't expect it to. He inspects the connection, then leans back as he starts taking the cables and stripping them, making a very crude, haphzard one that will on his own. After all, despite all of his natural talent as a leader, he had started out much more humble than that. This was the kind of stuff he used to do as a kid for fun. Jack works on it for a while, but eventually, he exhales a sigh as he still seems to be mulling over something. ]
...Don't get it, though. It doesn't make any goddamn sense, since if he wanted to screw me over, he had-- I dunno. Six weeks, there was definitely six weeks to do that. I mean, hell, he could've killed me. Had plenty of chances, since I didn't think he'd screw me. So, why pretend-- Ahhhh.
[ He cuts off with a frustrated noise, but it doesn't take him much longer to finish his hack job of cabling. After that, it's easy enough to connect the hard-drive to his data pad, after which, he won't say much more. He'll have to concentrate to see just what he can recover here. ]