Jackson Spencer

she knew he was somewhat unfriendly, sure. she could observe him as she did most people, and quite honestly he wasn’t hard to look at in any manner despite his cold demeanour. though, she was surprised when he took a good few minutes to note her presence, or rather, dismiss it. her head is canted when she meets his stare, her own softening as she ignores his half glare and takes a large puff of air to fill her lungs, break that familiar barrier of fear against introducing, socialising and embarrassing herself.

“i would mind, jackson.” she raises her eyebrows in expectancy, setting herself at a stool and unpacking excessive amounts of snacks from her unassuming basket. it’d been bought for her by someone and dropped at her door in apology for an owing that shan’t be mentioned, and she now used it more often than not on any errand allowing her two. it was handmade, colourful and to her taste - well suited when it sat in her messily decorated dorm.

a laugh sounds about as he questions her, and seol notices the familiar look in his eye - she saw it with mina all the time, ‘is there something i need to fix?’. it was endearing, if only slightly, so she shakes her head instinctively. “lunch, of course. i think you and i deserve them far more than those greed filed pilots.” she pauses momentarily, thinking her words over carefully.

“you’re pretty slow to catch on for a technician, y’know that? it’s nothin’ bad, though. cute, even.” her accent and dialect are forever present when she’s tired, but it’s okay, for she doesn’t notice herself. letting her short legs brush the floor she brushes a single particle of dust sitting on the trigger of the blaster irritating her, allowing her a few seconds to admire it’s finer details. it isn’t bad - she wonders where he might’ve bought it from, and if she could purchase one ( not for herself, rather as a birthday present - the kids around the lunae had odd ideas of fun. ) 

Jacksson’s eyes take in the laughter that bubbles out of the young woman sitting with him and he follows the lines of her face for a moment. Her features are young, make her look a bit more of a child than she probably is, perhaps. But they are soft and friendly, unlike some of the other people around here who are nothing but harsh and violent. It’s quite refreshing, to see such innocence in someone’s face when all he’s ever seen is schemes and anger. So he keeps looking for a bit longer, before eventually his gaze drops to the ‘lunch’ she’s mentioned.

But he doesn’t have enough time to look at it, because she continues talking, telling him he’s slow to catch on for a technician. He’s not entirely sure what she means with that, but decides to just take the compliment or insult - whichever one of the two it is. It doesn’t bother him anyway. His stomach gives another loud rumble at the smell of the food she’s unpacking, so he is forced to admit to himself that maybe he has to eat, and therefore reaches out to take the wrapped sandwiches from her.

“Are the pilots greedy?” A hum, a pensive look flashes over his features before it filters away again. He wouldn’t know, so he doesn’t voice his own opinion about it. Instead his eyes strictly follow the way her fingers brush over his blaster. He barely manages to repress the urge to curl up his arm and pull the weapon out of her reach - an instinct left from when the other smugglers would mess with his creations. She doesn’t look like the type, but one can never be too sure.

Humming softly, almost pensively, he moves the blaster a little so that he can eat the sandwiches she provided him with without being afraid of spilling on his almost finished creation. That would be a shame, for sure. Taking a first bite, the rich tastes fill his senses and he closes his eyes for a moment. Food is always ten times as good when you’re hungry, and considering he’s probably been hungry for a good hour or two, that increases the taste by a hundred times. Meaning he is now eating the most delicious sandwiches the world has ever been able to produce.

Normally, Hyuna likes to think she does a pretty good job of reigning in her emotional outbursts.  Knowing she has a problem with her temper often leads to her avoiding aggravating situations.  This is usually done in an effort to not draw attention to herself when she doesn’t want it.  There are however, some unfortunate circumstances where Hyuna really cannot control her temper—and she doesn’t want to either.  Such as when someone takes her blaster without asking and then proceeds to mess around with it as if it’s a perfectly normal and alright thing to do.

“Ah.  Thought so.”  

She doesn’t think, doesn’t even consider the action as wrong when she reaches forward and grabs the collar of his shirt.  Pulling him up slightly, Hyuna leans forward, her eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.  “You have about three seconds to give me my blaster back or you’re new home will be the infirmary.”  Despite her anger, her voice is quiet though it warbles slightly as she prevents herself from yelling.

Perhaps he was simply curious.  The modifications Hyuna and Baz Tu had made to her blaster was interesting at least. And a more rational side of her understood the desire to tinker and inspect.  But the part of her that never got to keep anything for herself in her life, that part of her wanted to punch him in the throat.  People simply shouldn’t touch her things.

Jackson should probably be a bit more perturbed, but he’s grown up among smugglers; people grabbing each other by the collar is nothing new. Being grabbed by the collar is maybe a little newer, but it still doesn’t quite phase him. The fact that he almost drops one of his tools is more concerning. Yet he turns his attention to the woman anyway, considering she’s going through such an effort to pull it, and listens to her words with an almost saint-like patience.

He’s quiet for a moment once her threat is spoken, calculating in his mind. “I’m going to need eleven, though,” is what he then responds, his tone as calm as ever, clearly not entirely aware of the severity of the situation. “Seconds. To put it back together properly.” He clarifies next, just in case she won’t be aware of what he’s talking about. He’s learned over time that people often seem to not know how his mind processes things.

“i’m not going to shell out any more credits for a new blaster,” he replies almost immediately. just because he’d easily spend money for food and alcohol and his own speeder doesn’t mean he’ll readily take out what little he gets in order to harm people more. he’s not ground crew. but he’d rather be ready than ill-prepared, and he hums before speaking again. “i’m sure we can come up with something.” 

the mention of dedlanite causes him to look up again, humming not in contemplation but as a reaction to an invasive recollection of a past better left behind. he frowns a little, and knows that he can get it with little-to-no resistance, given that his contacts remember who he is and what he’s done for them, but this isn’t a kind of connection he can reveal to a tech guy. he can’t spare a taint to his already-bad reputation, but kirin, too, can’t back away from a challenge. he’s never learned how to.

“make it not explode. do you think you can figure out how to do it and tell me what supplies you need? i have..a friend who owes me.” one whose life he saved from certain torture; one in a distant planet, surely, but one he can’t contact and collect from without stealing a ship for at least a day. “maybe i’ll get to pick them up along the way when we finally leave planetside.”

Jackson huffs at the response he gets. When did he tell this guy to spend credits and buy a new blaster? He told him they have to make one. But clearly that goes over the guy’s head. Well, it’s not like he’s going to correct the man’s thinking mistake - he doesn’t care enough for that. His pride just got a bit hurt, perhaps, but he’s never been a very prideful man after all.

The next question is what makes him frown in his turn. “I have already figured out how to do it and I just told you what supplies we’ll need,” is what he responds, unable to understand how this guy is so slow to catch on. “But you don’t have to pick it up anywhere, I have everything.”

he knows that being innovative isn’t his forte. he can improve, sure, and repair, but he can’t invent. every time he’s tried, it’s not really a new thing, and it’s always ended in some explosion or another, anyway. the tech guys are usually the ones who clean it up, and he supposes that it’s about time that someone stops him before he makes another mess of things. he doesn’t hit the gun with a wrench this time, at the very least.

“my proposition is the improvement of the general functioning of this particular blaster,” he begins, mockingly, and laughs at his own ill-timed joke. techs, to him, are either extremely rigid or overtly nerdy, and this guy seems just like all the rest. to lighten the mood, he adjusts the goggles over his head, and twirls the screwdriver between his fingers. “i want to decrease the recoil while also making sure that it shoots harder, and the blast goes farther. do you think you can help me with that?”

Jackson doesn’t understand why the male is laughing, also doesn’t understand why he’s using such formal language to explain his idea. But he’s hardly one to question another’s motives, so he quietly stands, arms still crossed, as he waits for the rest of the explanation to follow. Luckily the next part is spoken in a much more normal manner, enabling him to actually feel more at ease around this guy.

“Sure,” is all he replies, the bare necessities are all that’s needed for a good conversation, after all. “But you’re going to need different tools and a stronger power pack.” He thinks about it for a moment, his arms loosening their hold and falling back to his side, before his gaze falls upon the blaster once more. “In fact, you might just need an entire new blaster altogether.”

Although Hyuna would never like to admit it out loud, she can often be quite scattered brained about miscellaneous things when she’s hyper focused on other things.  For instance, when she’s trying to come up with new strategies based off latest intel from spies in The First Order.  Of course it’s all simulation, they hadn’t encountered any enemies in a little while.  But these simulations are enough to keep Hyuna sufficiently distracted from things she normally would be all too aware of.  Like leaving one of her blasters near the mess hall after bumping into an officer.

She knows that she shouldn’t carry around more than one blaster at a time.  She knows this, and yet it doesn’t stop her from having at least one, usually two on her person at all times.  Even when she sleeps.  So it doesn’t surprise her that it takes a while for her to notice that one of her blasters is missing as one is still firmly attached to her hip. But when she finally does, panic sets in upon the discovery that it’s one of her modified blasters.  

All her work is forgotten as she goes to retrace her steps.  To her surprise, it doesn’t work but then again, she shouldn’t expect a blaster to just be left lying about.  Deciding to expand her search circle and maybe ask around a bit, she heads into the common areas of the station.  Finding a face she vaguely recognizes is one thing, but to find that her blaster is in front of him partially dismantled is enough to spark her anger.  Still, she doesn’t know if it is hers for sure.  So, she walks over as casually as she can though her shoulders and arms are stiff at her side.  “Hey, where did you get that blaster?”  Although she tries to sound casual, it comes off more as monotone in her attempt to hide how aggravated she is in that moment.

Now people talk around him a lot but it’s only directed at him about five percent of the time. Which means that usually he doesn’t pay attention to the noises around him. But the question is rather specific and to be fair his attention isn’t fully on the blaster anymore considering his inability to find where that particular part is supposed to go. So when a female voice asks him where he found the thing, he looks up. He comes face to face with a rather tense looking female, who he doesn’t exactly recognise - but that’s nothing new, really.

Looking back down at the blaster, he retraces his steps in his mind, thinking of where exactly he picked it up. Luckily his memory is being helpful on that subject, considering it still won’t tell him where he got the mystery part from, so it doesn’t take him too long before he can look back up at the female with him. “Picked it up on my way back from breakfast,” he replies easily, giving her another short look before turning her gaze back down.

“next time, do the basic first aid if you do know it.” she frowns, “it makes all the difference, you know. like, what if during the minutes you didn’t do the basic first aid it got infected by like a bacteria because you didn’t notice that you somehow touched infected or rusty metal–which mind you we probably have a lot on this ship! then BOOM!!! next thing you know you’re dead because the infection mutated into an unknown virus and you’re somehow already infecting all of us and and–” ji-ae takes a huge gulp of breath and she calms down for a moment. she looks sheepish, probably realizing how dumb her outburst might look like to him. “now we’re also dead. do the basic first aid first.” she leaves it at that.

she gets a bit distracted by his words and stops momentarily. “you shoved your burned arm in my face without any you know, prior notice and i’m a doctor. i have an oath to help people if they ask for help.” ji-ae tells him in a determined manner. “we have nurses around here that can help so maybe you can look for them next time? but you’re here now so i’m treating this, okay?”

she looks back at the burn and continues finishing applying the ointment. her hands are still shaky but not that shaky compared to when she first started treating it anymore and she’s almost embarrassed that a tiny burn like that could set off memories of the incident. she unrolls the bandages and wraps it around his arm. it’s not her best, but it’ll do.

“now, if it doesn’t go away in two weeks you better come back here okay? something probably happened to it BUT despite what i said before,” she rubs her head sheepishly, “it’s impossible for infection to happen especially with burns like this.”

Jackson’s listening to this woman tell him to do things first even though he has just told her that it was faster to come here. He can’t help but wonder why she continues to tell him to do these things first when she is the one who’s supposed to do them. But his mind can’t wrap around it before she continues on a tangent about all the horrible infections he could get from a burn. Now he’s not very informed on wounds and infections, but he’s pretty sure that a little small burn like his is nowhere near in any danger of getting infected. Deciding to keep quiet and just let her continue to do her job - which is apparently not her job after all things are getting complicated in this squadron - Jackson sits and waits until eventually the woman wraps up his bandage.

“If it doesn’t go away in two weeks?” He mirrors her words, eyeing her with a certain sense of suspicion. “If this is not better in two days I’d be surprised.” Does he heal that more quickly than other people or does she just have her time messed up? He’s not entirely sure. Maybe the wound is worse than he thinks it is. Maybe she’s not right about it because this is not actually her job. He can’t blame her for any false information she’s giving him. A point she proves by stating that a wound like his can’t get infected at all.

Jackson stares. Literally stares. At her face. For a full minute. Probably frowning and giving her some sort of judging look. Very judging. Until eventually he manages to get over his utter surprise at the kind of incapable woman he has had to deal with for the past fifteen minutes - which are, he might add, fifteen minutes too many of dealing with her. “I’m sure you thought most of what you were saying was useful,” is what he eventually states, in a tone that is clearly void of any hurtful intentions, despite the choice of his words. Raising his now bandaged arm a little, he gives the woman a short nod of gratitude. “I’ll let you get back to your usual work now.” He tilts his head to the side and glances down at the desk to see what kind of work that actually is, but doesn’t get much wiser from it and so decides to just leave it be. “Have a good day.”

kirin didn’t like anyone touching his things. 

maybe it was something he picked up from growing up with criminals, but once someone had their hands on his possessions, it usually meant that they had little intention of giving it back without any sort of compensation. the memory of experience won over any form of camaraderie, and if the man hadn’t worked so quickly to re-assemble his blaster, he would’ve stabbed him to take it back; his prized knife, in the end, was only almost-unsheathed, and with a tiny bit of regret, he placed it back where it belonged and couldn’t harm any of the crew.

“alright, great,” he began, inspecting the blaster, and turning it over in his hand, before placing it back down and grabbing the nearest tool, and proceeding to take it apart again, “thanks, and i don’t know what you did, but you interrupted my work.” 

he hardly glanced at the guy, and kirin, realising belatedly that that was probably rude, took his time in dismantling it before looking up again. “oh, it’s you – tech guy, right? listen, i was trying to do a…thing… but since you’re here, you can help me out, probably.”

Jackson watches a little befuddled as the male takes the blaster from him, turns it a few times and then just starts to take it apart again. It takes him a long moment to calm himself down and convince himself that this guy is not just going to take the blaster apart again just to hit it with a wrench once more. That’s the only reason why he’s even still standing around and looking at the guy when he’s done dismantling it - he’s there to make sure the wrench stays away from the blaster.

And then the guy looks at him once more and starts to even speak to him again, so Jackson focuses his attention on what this weird dude is telling him. He tries to put aside his prejudice about the guy and wrenches in order to be able to objectively listen to the issue at hand. “Alright,” is what he replies when the other states he could probably help him out. “I’m listening.”