Washing Off
Posted on Thu May 16th, 2019 @ 8:16am by
Edited on on Thu May 16th, 2019 @ 8:41am
677 words; about a 3 minute read
Mission:
Episode 6 - Old Habits Die Hard
Location: Guest Quarters - Empok Nor
Timeline: MD005 1230 hrs
Steam rose and spread from the steady streams of water flowing out of the metal shower-head. The swirls of vapor escaped their prisons, floating gently toward the ceiling and resting there like cats finding their places on a warm surface. The water was refreshing and hot; hot enough to cause a small amount of pain; hot enough to burn away the thick layers of personal and moral misgivings and shame. The metal nob was turned, and the steady streams ceased their flowing while the billows of steam calmed and relaxed into a solid vale; a fog.
A sculpted and shapely form stepped out of the shower, the same steam now emanating from her. Her body was beautiful, like that of a goddess, but it was bruised between the many tattoos. A dermal regeneration in sickbay should take care of her battle scars, but the scars that remained on the inside wouldn't be healed so easily. They would hurt long after her physical beauty had been restored. Water dripped from her mix of blonde, white, and purple hair and slid eagerly down her her back and passed her rounded behind. She put a stop to the endless streaming with a red towel. Then, wrapping the towel around herself, she set about the work of drying her body, both the simple and secret places, and she did it slowly and carefully.
Ingrid had spent the past 40 minutes in the water shower she had requested after arriving on the station. For what needed to be washed clean, a sonic shower simply wouldn't do. She'd spent nearly 3 months alone in that pod, evading capture, and she'd smelled like it too. Wrapping the red towel around herself, she covered up her tattooed form, leaving only her shoulders and the top of her breasts revealed; the garment was already more dignified than what the Cardassian had her wear. Then, with slow steps, she moved toward the mirror. She hadn't seen her own reflection for the better part of a year, and when her face appeared in front of the mirror, she immediately began to cry.
As tears replaced water droplets on her face, she saw the depth of the nightmare she had endured. Her beauty hadn't left her, but she looked so tired, and her well-maintained features were pale and dry. She had always been the kind of woman who had her hair and nails done perfectly; almost always, she wore a full face of makeup. Knowing that she had been so removed from herself for over 10 months hit her like a ton of bricks. She'd almost forgotten Ingrid Hollister was a lie as well, and now she felt more guilty than every lying to her fellow officers. Maybe she should give up and run back to her family..
She wiped her tears and pulled herself together by sheer force of will. She was tough, tougher than she was being, and she needed to fight this. Quickly, she pulled out the device she'd replicated that was designed to die her hair without the need for a solon; it was the best option out in space and she didn't exactly feel like a visit to the promenade. After brushing her matted hair, she ran the device over her follicles and watched in the mirror as the blonde roots went white. Then she added artful purple highlights. She smiled at her creation, but quickly moved on.
She opened a replicated makeup kit and applied it with a skill that hadn't diminished with her time away. After that, she added sharp acrylic nails and painted them a scarlet color. Why she did it all, she didn't know; she didn't feel made up on the inside. After she'd slipped on a fresh uniform, she looked at herself in the mirror again. Staring back at her was a perfect image of Ingrid Hollister; on the inside, she felt like an impostor, and what's more, she was.
Lieutenant Ingrid Hollister
Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Pioneer
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