After she had her shower ( her first one for three weeks), with hot water (2 months passed since her last one), and even fresh water (she didn't even remember when she had one of those, no matter if cold or hot), she returned to the armoury, to check if the armsmaster finished his job. And in fact, he did.<br/><br/>Once she was certain that her armour was repaired, she strolled through the armoury, with an detachable bag of her backpack, wearing not much more than a towel wrapped around her. 7.62 FMJ? Got it. Same in AP? Two here, thanks. Look, .45 HP, give give give. No High Power rounds? Awww shame. Hmm, grenades... let's see. Two frags will do. Willy Pete's? Two for me.<br/><br/>After she had her stroll, she returned to the arms master. Her armour was fixed, and taken care of. She tossed him five packs of menthol cigarettes, winked at him and retrieved her armour.<br/><br/>She put on the chest piece, which took some time, but then again, she knew how to do it, and was done within a minute. The next step was the helmet. She put it on, and linked it to the main power supply.<br/><br/>Picture Enhancement, check. Infra-Red, check. GPS... fuzzy, but well, that was something she expected. Not many of the civil sattelites could pierce thorugh the radiated atmosphere. Range Finder, check. Compass, check. Chrono, check.<br/><br/>"Fuck!" she barked, as she realized she would be late. She grabbed everything she asked for, tossed it in her bag , her weapons and the other parts of her armour, and legged it.<br/><br/>Jumping around like a nutter, she managed to get the combat boots on her feet, and also plugged the helmet on its waist hold.<br/><br/>She was panting heavily as she arrived at the vehicle bay. Some part of her knew she would be a very odd sigh, a girl wearing a military grade chestpiece and boots, and not much else but a backpack, and an assault rifle around her neck.<br/><br/>"Sorry, am I late?" she asked, out of breath, as she finally got to a hold close to the Marauder.<br/><br/>She was all sweatly, obvioulsy, as the others could see her skin sparkle. Especially on her left leg, which beared the marks of more than a dozen scars, and her left arm, although those looked more like serious burns than anything else.<br/><br/>Another thing was a tattoo she had on her right upper arm, simple, but yet good work. And also, her right leg. It seemed like there has been something chewing on it, at least from the scars...<br/><br/>She regained her breath, and looked at the vehicle. "Riiiiiight... that's gonna be our ride? Cool..." she said, still panting.<br/><br/>Putting her hand on her rifle she had in a so called commando style, she got closer, not caring about the fact she was.... slightly underdressed.<br/><br/>"Aaaand whose attention you want to get with this?" she asked.