It was amazing what a shower could do. It had been obvious even under the dirt and grime that Solae was a beautiful woman but clean she nearly sparkled. Perhaps it was the effect of seeing her filthy first, the way a gemstone might be more austonding if one had seen the rough hewn rock before it was cut and polished. Her hair, still wet from the shower as like spun electrum and the loose shirt and exercise pants hung in a loose profusion which suggested her figure more powerful than a more revealing outfit could have managed.

“I imagine your improvisation makes them look far better than they ever did on their owner,” he said with a wan smile. The style on Capella at the time of his disgrace had run to ridiculously closely tailored suits with natural striations and short capes. Judging by what Solae had found he didn’t need to worry too much about finding something that would fit.

“You don’t need to wait if you don’t want too but I’ll just be a minute.” 

Following Solae’s directions he found the shower without difficulty. The shower unit was modern and stylish and certainly cost more than a marine made in a year. The floor and walls were laid out with hand crafted tiles that looked like naturally weathered stone of a warm brown yew. Rene stripped off his boots and socks and placed them carefully in a corner. Painfully he removed his shirt, the act made difficult by the bruises and contusions that coated his upper body then stripped off his pants and undergarments and carried them into the shower with him.

“May I assist you sir?” asked the sultry voice of the house AI. Rene nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of an unexpected female voice when he was completely naked.

“Throne curse you!” he breathed leaning both hands against the tiled wall of the shower and letting his forehead rest on the cool stone surface.

“No I can manage,” he told the AI curtly and touched a control to activate a sonic scrub. An inaudible bath of sonic energy washed over him. Dirt and dried blood fell away from his skin in a dusty shower, his teeth ached slightly and the bullet graze across his chest began to ooze blood. He deactivated the sonic and turned the water on. Hot water seemed like decadence as it poured down over his battered form, washing the dirt and blood into the drain like a red stained river. The heat felt good on muscles bunched in tension for long hours and he had a momentary desire to stay under the running water forever. Remembering that Solae was waiting he quickly scrubbed himself and turned the water off.

“Stars..” he marveled as he walked out of the shower, tossng his soaked pants over the partition to dry. The full length mirror was specially finished so that it didn’t fog in spite of the steam. His entire muscular torso was covered in bruises. Foremost were the three red black lines where the harness had caught him when he fell from the disintegrating communications antennae. Even through his shirt the canvas safety straps had abbraided his skin though the fact hadn’t been evident to him when he had been shot full of adrenaline. Further bruises, from falling sand bags compounded the effect, making him look like a child had painted him with black and purple paint. His right hand had been cut by razor wire through the wound had already sealed itself and been puckered red by the hot water. The bullet graze was mercifully shallow, only a few millimeters deep than the stars, and it wept a slow trickle of blood. Rene took one of the pristine white hand towels and pressed it to his side. The Gid had been lucky, there was no doubt about that, but he had been good enough to spin and fire when taken completely by surprise. Rene hoped that was an exception rather than a measure of the opposition. 

Rene did somewhat better than Solae had when it came to clothing. Armon’s wardrobe furnished him with a set of what it claimed were hunting pants, the only thing available with pockets, but from the crisp dark grey finish Rene doubted they had ever been taken on a hunt. He put the pants on and laboriously hooked his equipment belt to the unfamiliar garment before pulling his combat boots back on over the fine socks of natural wool. The effect of the belt and the boots with the expensive pants was vaguely ridiculous but this was no time to make a fashion statement. Mia also provided him with a white button down shirt, this he didn’t put on just yet, there was no point until he had seen to his wound, but rather tossed it over his shoulder. Transiently he wondered if he would be shot if he were captured out of uniform. Well uniforms hadn’t saved Bowie and the others. A growl in his stomach reminded him that Solae was still waiting to eat and he headed back down the stairs.

“Still a bit of a mess I’m afraid,” he joked as he returned to the kitchen, deliberately making his tone light. Even clean he must look a fright.

“Let’s eat and then we can see what we can accomplish with the first aid kit.