"Right," Jack ducked his head down again, but this time there was no smile. It wasn't as though he'd expected to be told all was forgiven and that he was suddenly invited back on board (and he wasn't sure he could even accept such an invitation were it offered), but despite that there was a tiny slither of his mind that hoped. But hope wasn't always logical.

He cleared his throat a little and lifted his voice. That tone he used to cover emotion. Falsely chirpy. Most people bought it.

"Well it shouldn't be too hard to find civilisation," he mused, "I can track tech on this," he tapped his wrist strap and rubbed a little blood off it. "If we follow that we can find our way to a shipyard. We'll get you transport first and then I can get some work on an oil replication refinery or something. 27th century was full of those."