Sol sat on his bunk; he'd managed to search out a reasonable price for a new scope on his rifle, and was itching to get it on. The old one was cracked when some [i]wong ba duhn[/i] snuck up on him while he was covering. Idiot assumed that tunnel vision would negate his complete lack of stealth. Reaching to unscrew the old scope, the screwdriver slipped on the worn screwhead, scratching his other hand. "[i]Go shi[/i]," he muttered, wiping the blood off his hand. He'd better get a new screw, unless he wanted it to do that next time he had to take the scope off to clean it. He wouldn't bother the captain about it though, so he'd do it later. Maybe next time they made port he'd find some. "Right then, let's get you right off then."