The low gravity in space caused the body to grow weak, to grow soft, and certain sections of the ship would have the gravity turned off to conserve energy. With my line of work survival depended on quick reflexes, experience, and a strong body; Oh and good tech. Looking at the clock I saw I had almost three hours before breakfast and growled, "Fuck..." My body was not adapted to the new sleep cycle that came with ship life. At least I have a few hours to work out before breakfast and active duty.
With my palms placed flat on the floor, just past shoulder width, I lowered myself slowly to the cold floor of the ship. Pausing as my chest touched the floor as I exhaled some of my breathe. After the brief pause I began pushing back up. It was mindless training this day; repetitive motions of lowing myself to the floor and pressing back to the starting position. Different hand positioning or different elevation of my body would target different locations of my pectoral muscles. This was meditation to me.
The room around me was spartan, bare, which I was grateful for because it gave me enough space to train; exercising or even large enough to keep up on my sword technique. Breathing the fire from my lungs I examined over the few things I did own. Sorting through the first standing locker take an inventory of;
- Plain Black T-Shirt(4)
- White Tank Top(4)
- White Button-up Collared Shirt(1)
- Light Khaki Cargo Pants(2)
- Boot-cut Gray Jeans(1)
- Plain Black Dress Pants(1)
- Black Boxer-Briefs(9)
- Ankle-cut Socks(4 pairs)
- Black Dress Socks (2 pairs)
- Standard White Socks (7 pairs)
- Beige Towel (2)
- Beige Washcloth (2)
- Pair of Simple Black Dress Shoes (1)
- Pair of Black and Gray Barefoot Shoes (1)
- Toothbrush (2)
- Toothpaste(2)
- Bottle of Mouthwash (1)
- Container of Body Wash (2)
- Container of Shampoo/Conditioner (2)
- Dental Floss (1)
- Grooming Kit (1)
Pausing for a minute I ran my calloused right hand through my hair as I looked from the empty, mesh, laundry bag hanging from the first locker to the next one with hung my olive drab[a shade of green], double breasted, long jacket; the jacket had ballistic mesh woven into it to stop the force of projectile weapons and additional protection on the vital points of the body. The second locker contained my weapons, armor, and other job-related items; I left this locker locked. Snatching up my grooming supplies I head to the wash room.
The steam in the showers was like an autumn fog, thick and muggy. The lengths of the room had 10 shower heads along them and between each shower was a plastic wall; the plastic walls were only three feet high and had a shelf upon them to hold ones cosmetics. The showers here were rather empty. There were four people , 1 male and 3 female, on the right side of the room and two on the left, 2 male. I moved to the back of the left side to stay away from everyone; I did not feel like socializing nor did I recognize any of them.
The world as we, as I knew it was gone. Earth....Earth was polluted and ruined by humanity over the years. How do we expect to survive if the same thing happened to Koroton? My mind wandered along that morbid, negative thinking as I washed my body. It was also this thinking that distracted me enough for a woman to take up the shower stall next to me. It was her words that alerted me to her presence, "Can I use your shampoo? I forgot mine in my room." My eyes immediately shifted to see the owner of that smokey whisper.
She wasn't tall and she wasn't short. Her dark flesh was lean, trim, and graceful like a panther stalking across the nighttime plains of Africa. My eyes immediately made contact with those creamy brown orbs of hers. She was leaning over the three foot wall that separated the two showers. I noticed she was rocking her hips back and forth, thus shaking her shapely butt for those behind her to see; letting me know that everyone else could stare at her, but she was staring at me. A smirk had crept up onto the corner of my mouth as I said, "Sure."
"You got a name?" The dark skinned beauty said as she accepted the bottle.
"Jerico," I would answer as I washed my abdomen.
"Adara...Adara Desjardins." She squirted a large gob of shampoo into her left hand as she spoke. "I'm a mechanic for the Kurtashkin's," Adara continued as she began lathering up her long, curly, black hair. I would just nod slightly and begin to wash my legs.
"Not much of a talker are you?" Adara never turned away from me as she spoke. Shrugging I continued to bathe.
"Come here Jerico. I'll help you with that." I looked over to see Adara motioning me over. That smirk of mine would return as tilted my head to the side to examine her over.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Besides to wash you back?" She giggled and shook her head. I realized she must have been in her forties and was still in amazing shape. "I want a friend." As I turned around she moved behind me; Adara was most likely 5'5''.
"One with a nice butt." I shook my head as I laughed.
Adara Desjardins claimed to be from Louisiana, USA before the mass exodus of Earth. She was a mechanic for one of the biggest Mercenary Companies on the ship commanded by the Russian's, the Kurtashkin. Most would have been a bit afraid of her for making that claim. The Kurtashkin have their own section on the ship and generally kept to themselves. Meaning they are very militant and aggressive. But, Adara Desjardins seemed to be tired of that crowd and made a target out of me; that or she wanted to find a way into the Von Beckenbauer Company. As we went separate ways, meaning me leaving the showers, she would call back to me, "Thanks for the shampoo!" and, "Great ass!" I walked off shaking my head knowing that she would be a problem; hopefully a fun problem.
Returning to my room I began to gear up. Khaki pants, socks, knee pads, boots. I turned to face myself in the mirror and that smirk of mine would return. I admired my lean and chiseled upper body. The vicious scar that ran across my abdomen and the other small stab woulds, or bullet wounds, upon my torso. What really drew the eye was my tattoo....
Which was on my left shoulder.
Pulling on a black t-shirt I throw on my jacket. After buttoning each of the golden skull button up to his chest he strap on his weapons belt. The belt consists of two dueling pistol, a combat knife, three pouches on the left side, two of the right, and two more behind him. Finally he would snatch up his blade and exit his room to head for breakfast and guard duty...