allmhadadh

Scotty woke up in the galley, not too terribly surprised that Harold had left; he didn't figure the floor of a galley was all that comfortable a napping spot for most people anyway. But he was then chased out by some of the next watch of cooks, and had to do something with himself.

Reluctant as he was, he headed back for his assigned quarters. The nap had done him some good; it'd be probably a few days before he wasn't limping, but it didn't bother him, and his head was a little clearer. He grabbed a shower, eyeing the myriad black and blue and purple marks with clinical disinterest, then changed into a handy set of clothes and started getting his toolkit together.

Might not exactly have a repair list accessible anymore, but that didn't stop him from deciding to fix whatever he could see visible and in need of repair. He figured it was fair. And he had to earn his room and food, anyway.

He just didn't realize what else he'd be doing while out tonight, too.