Gallilee trudged the short distance up the street towards their warehouse, her slim shoulders hunched against the cold wind that whistled past her and down the alleyways. She kept her hands tucked under her arms for warmth (and of course, to keep them near her precious revolvers). She followed the scent of ozone and smoke all the way home, shouldering through the door with a whistle that signaled the all clear.
She was barely three steps inside when a gruff voice hailed her, ?Aye! You?ve a lot of nerve showing your face back here tonight.?
Rough hands were not far behind, grabbing her arm and pulling her around. Galli snarled, spinning with the force of the rude grasp and shoving one revolver not so gently into the groin of her attacker. Suddenly, she was the one supporting the much taller man, who sagged over with a pained gasp.
?I put up with this shite from Boris, because he?s a useful bloke, Drake. Touch me again and you?ll need to relearn how to piss.? Her voice growled low and angrily before she flipped her gun, bashing him once more with the revolver?s butt for good measure.
She left him to recover under the sniggers of their crewmates, and though she turned her back on him, she didn?t reholster the gun until she was safe in the warmth of her room. There she shrugged off the heavy weight of her outer coat and headed over to stoke the fire before slipping off to the bathroom. With great trepidation, she turned the faucet on, but to her surprise, her luck held and scalding water flowed from the tap into the tub. She supposed it wasn?t too surprising there was hot water left, not many of her mates knew what soap was for, much less participated in daily bathing.
She watched the steam rise as she stripped, shedding her coat jacket and shoulder holster, the latter left hanging on the chair near the tub for easy access while bathing. Then off came her vest, shirt, undershirt, long johns and halter. She gingerly inspected her ribs, grimacing appreciatively at the deep bruise that spread across her left side. It looked bad, but she was pretty sure now that it was only bruised deeply, not fractured. Her upcoming bath would do a lot to relieve that, and the salve would take care of the rest.
She?d have to remember to thank Tarna for healing her ankle. She?d been too pissed to at the time, but the girl was a good one and it wasn?t her fault her heart was breaking. And, Galli couldn?t help but speculate that Tarna, being a healer and all, might be able to recreate the miracle salve they?d brought with them.
She hummed to herself tunelessly as she continued stripping. She set her tool belt and the little pistol at the small of her back on the chair, but heaved her heavy work boots into the corner. Nimble fingers soon had both ankle sheathes unfastened and tossed onto the chair. Her socks and pants, bottom long johns and undergarments soon dropped into the growing pile on the floor, capped off with the finishing touches of her gloves, goggles and neckerchief, which she?d all but forgotten.
She stepped over to the tarnished mirror above the sink, regarding herself ruefully. Her clothes had taken the large brunt of the damage, so the heat and force of the explosion had given her a nasty sunburn and bruised ribs, but little else. Of course, Boris had added to that by clocking her one, she mused ruefully, rubbing her swollen jaw, but he obviously hadn?t had his heart in the blow, or her jaw would?ve been broken, not just sore. She let her hand slip down to massage her sore neck, fingers digging into the intricate tattoo that marked her out as a freed slave. The delicate scrollwork coiled down her neck and onto her right shoulder, cryptically recording the crime that had brought her to the slave?s block, her old master?s sigil, the date she?d earned her freedom and even the amount she?d paid for the privilege. One would have had to know the code used in the imperial slave market to decipher the meaning of the black marks marring her skin, but Galli preferred to guard her secrets. And so, it was a rare day that Galli didn?t keep her neck wrapped and covered despite the beautiful artistry of the inked design..
She sighed and stretched gingerly, eyes suddenly old and tired. She moved back towards the tub, thoughts of her past weighing heavily on her mind. It had been a long time since she?d thought of Gio, her old master, but Tarna?s insistence on being alone had dredged up old memories. Galli found her thoughts stubbornly turning back to him as she sank into the scalding water?
She was barely three steps inside when a gruff voice hailed her, ?Aye! You?ve a lot of nerve showing your face back here tonight.?
Rough hands were not far behind, grabbing her arm and pulling her around. Galli snarled, spinning with the force of the rude grasp and shoving one revolver not so gently into the groin of her attacker. Suddenly, she was the one supporting the much taller man, who sagged over with a pained gasp.
?I put up with this shite from Boris, because he?s a useful bloke, Drake. Touch me again and you?ll need to relearn how to piss.? Her voice growled low and angrily before she flipped her gun, bashing him once more with the revolver?s butt for good measure.
She left him to recover under the sniggers of their crewmates, and though she turned her back on him, she didn?t reholster the gun until she was safe in the warmth of her room. There she shrugged off the heavy weight of her outer coat and headed over to stoke the fire before slipping off to the bathroom. With great trepidation, she turned the faucet on, but to her surprise, her luck held and scalding water flowed from the tap into the tub. She supposed it wasn?t too surprising there was hot water left, not many of her mates knew what soap was for, much less participated in daily bathing.
She watched the steam rise as she stripped, shedding her coat jacket and shoulder holster, the latter left hanging on the chair near the tub for easy access while bathing. Then off came her vest, shirt, undershirt, long johns and halter. She gingerly inspected her ribs, grimacing appreciatively at the deep bruise that spread across her left side. It looked bad, but she was pretty sure now that it was only bruised deeply, not fractured. Her upcoming bath would do a lot to relieve that, and the salve would take care of the rest.
She?d have to remember to thank Tarna for healing her ankle. She?d been too pissed to at the time, but the girl was a good one and it wasn?t her fault her heart was breaking. And, Galli couldn?t help but speculate that Tarna, being a healer and all, might be able to recreate the miracle salve they?d brought with them.
She hummed to herself tunelessly as she continued stripping. She set her tool belt and the little pistol at the small of her back on the chair, but heaved her heavy work boots into the corner. Nimble fingers soon had both ankle sheathes unfastened and tossed onto the chair. Her socks and pants, bottom long johns and undergarments soon dropped into the growing pile on the floor, capped off with the finishing touches of her gloves, goggles and neckerchief, which she?d all but forgotten.
She stepped over to the tarnished mirror above the sink, regarding herself ruefully. Her clothes had taken the large brunt of the damage, so the heat and force of the explosion had given her a nasty sunburn and bruised ribs, but little else. Of course, Boris had added to that by clocking her one, she mused ruefully, rubbing her swollen jaw, but he obviously hadn?t had his heart in the blow, or her jaw would?ve been broken, not just sore. She let her hand slip down to massage her sore neck, fingers digging into the intricate tattoo that marked her out as a freed slave. The delicate scrollwork coiled down her neck and onto her right shoulder, cryptically recording the crime that had brought her to the slave?s block, her old master?s sigil, the date she?d earned her freedom and even the amount she?d paid for the privilege. One would have had to know the code used in the imperial slave market to decipher the meaning of the black marks marring her skin, but Galli preferred to guard her secrets. And so, it was a rare day that Galli didn?t keep her neck wrapped and covered despite the beautiful artistry of the inked design..
She sighed and stretched gingerly, eyes suddenly old and tired. She moved back towards the tub, thoughts of her past weighing heavily on her mind. It had been a long time since she?d thought of Gio, her old master, but Tarna?s insistence on being alone had dredged up old memories. Galli found her thoughts stubbornly turning back to him as she sank into the scalding water?