Clarke sat at his workbench with the pieces of an ancient device strewn about him and the faint smell of soldering flux wafting through the air. "It's no Flux Capacitor," he thought to himself, "but it's still fun to work on." Jason put the Betamax pieces aside and leaned back on the stool. Actually, he leaned back a little too far and the stool slid out from underneath him with a clatter.
"Well, at least I didn't fall on the soldering iron," Jason muttered to no-one in particular as he dusted himself off and reached down to pick up the instrument, which he promptly flung across the room. Clarke's hand flailed wildly for a few moments as he gasped, "Wrong bloody end!" He walked back across the room and retrieved the iron, this time making sure to pick it up by the end that wasn't searing hot.
"Good thing I decided on leaving Cyrezx alone," he mused as Rae bandaged his hand. She taped the gauze down and he flexed the hand carefully; it would suffice. He had been distracted a lot lately and he wasn't sure why. The decision to leave Cyrezx well enough alone had definitely been the right one; after all, he'd just been passing through the area before and it really wasn't his land anyway. Besides as distracted as he'd been lately he'd have been no good at it anyway.
Clarke wondered what had become of one Brash Radigan. The two had gotten along well in their brief encounter...