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⬅️ Previous capture (2021-12-17)
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Continuing from the introduction of Oh Bloody Hell - Stranded (link at bottom of section)
Carei explorered her room.
The one door led to a bathroom, including a shower. Set beside the sink was a bottle of all-body wash and a pair of towels. Having a private shower was not something she was accustomed to, as the ship's crew all used a common shower room. Already undressed, Carei decided to take a few minutes to clean up. Slowly, tenderly, she removed the bandages that protected the worst of her wounds. Carei winced when she saw the damage to her torso and arm, black and purple welts, her arm looking like it might have been broken.
Carei took a deep sigh, bemoaning the bad turn her life had taken. Turning to the shower, she stepped through the glass door and pulled it shut. The water was hot, and it felt good as it ran over her sore flesh. As she moved her arms to clean herself, her muscles ached, and she couldn't reach as far without the muscles in her arms screaming in pain. She moved slowly, carefully, but with what her captain had said on her pad, she was grateful to be alive.
After the shower Carei dried off and walked to the dresser. She looked in the mirror. Her body was a mess, but her face didn't show much damage. There was a small scar on by her right ear. She smiled to herself. She was a pretty woman, and the scar was small enough she thought it gave her a little mystique. It could have been a lot worse.
She went through the dresser, and found an assortment of unusual clothes. There were older outfits, hand-woven skirts, flowery blouses, demin pants. All of it looked like clothes from centuries ago. There was not any of the standard fare commonly found on a starship or space station.
The clothes appeared to be tailored to her size. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to give her quite a variety.
Carei wanted something sturdy, something to hide her wounds. She put on a pair of jeans and a dark, long-sleeved shirt. The shirt buttoned up in the front, with frills on the ends of the sleaves. She put on a pair of thick socks she found in another drawer. Looking around the dresser, she saw that a pair of brown boots, and a pair of fancy black high-heeled shoes, were tucked underneathe it. She grabbed the boots and pulled them on.
She looked around the room, taking in her accomodations again. Then she remembered the box with her things in it. She knelt down to peer under the bed, Again, her muscles complained as she stretched to grab the box. She pulled it out, while wincing in pain. It was a metal lock-box which hummed quietly, electronically sealed. It had a small camera on the top, and a button on the side. Carei pressed the button, and the camera came to life, scanning her face. She heard a click, indicating that the box was unlocked.
Inside Carei found some of her personal effects. There was her galactic identification card, that electronically unlocked to provide her identity to the authorities. *Actually*, where were several identities written into the card, of which she could unlock with slight differences in interacting with it. This often helped her to avoide detection in the Verge.
There were also a set of physical Galactic Credits, which on some lower-tech worlds were used to trade. There was also her electronic wallet, which contained cryptographic funds in a number of different worlds' currencies.
Carei's two personal weapons were also in the box, a small needler gun, which she could easily hide in her waistband, and a 'Delek', a wicked knife with a jagged 6-inch blade.
The woman was not a fighter. She was a scientist. But out here beyond civilization, people didn't always recognize that there was a code to follow. It helped to be prepared.
The last item in the box was her necklace, a long silver chain with a pendent the shape of the Three Stars. Carei stared at it, thankful that Densen had included it in the box. A pain clutched her heart as she thought of the one that had given it to her...
She forced the memory back. Going to the mirror, put the necklace on. She tucked it under her shirt, and felt it drop to hang between the top of her breasts. A symbol of The Divinity to many in the galaxy, and memory to her, keeping it with her made her feel odd, off-balance, but also of comfort. It was a contradiciton, though just one of many that defined her.
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