198, 199, 200...
On the screen in front of him played one of Earth's oldest vids, Old Yeller. The sound of the movie playing and the soft grunting of the man pushing himself up and down with one hand, piled with the vents of the ship was all that could be heard within the armory. Sweat slicked down the bare muscled back of the man, and he gritted his teeth as it became increasingly harder to push himself up.
203, 204, 205...
They'd just returned from diverting to the Gernsback. Jacob learned with a heavy heart that a bullet couldn't solve everything, but he wasn't going to let this of all things bring him down. He was supposed to have a clear head from this moment forward; he wouldn't allow himself to feel anything towards the result of finding the Gernsback.
The numb pain in his arms caused by his persistent push-ups would supply for what he wouldn't let himself feel.