He finally looked over, if only for a moment, like this other Scott had somehow grown an eyeball right between those eyebrows of his. Why would anyone even ask that? It was pretty obvious to him. "A man's gotta make a livin'. I'm nae an engineer, an' if this is some alternate universe, then I'm nae even qualified as a Starfleet cadet. An' I'm a good mechanic, so I figured I'd go find someone willin' t' hire one off o' th' books, 'til I can figure out what t 'do."