Ashley turned up the treadmill. Whoever'd used it last must have been in the mood for a leisurely stroll, she thought with a smile. God forbid they go for a walk around the trillion-credit marvel of landscaping right outside.
As she got into her stride, she started to feel a little better. Ten years ago, she'd have shuddered at the idea of going for a run after a few drinks, but her years of garrison duty had given her an iron stomach.
"Nobody knows you're half-drunk if you lead PT" she thought with a chuckle. Truth be told, she hadn't been quite the drinker that some of her fellow marines were, but she could hold her own.
She turned up the speed again as she started to feel her breathing deepen.
"Ahhhh... that's a nice burn."
Most of the equipment in the gym was polished and sparklingly clean. Maybe the Keepers work? Or maybe just the diplomats not making much use of it.
She still had a few hours before she was supposed to report to the docking bay, so she figured she'd have time for a shower, a maybe a quick bite to eat. One last meal groundside before who knows how many months of the navy's finest slop.
After she'd finished her workout, she hit the showers. After years of tight water rations, she'd never really felt right in civilian showers, or at least, not until she got in.
"Fuck..."
The warm, high pressure water felt heavenly after a workout. She took no small pleasure in massaging her aching muscles as she lathered up.
Still. She was a marine at heart. She didn't dawdle any longer than necessary to finish getting clean, as much as she might have liked to. After rinsing off, she stepped out into the locker room to get dressed. She couldn't help but take a moment to admire herself in one of the enormous mirrors.
"Looking good, Chief," she thought to herself with a chuckle, "All dimensions within the specified ranges."
After toweling off, she began to slip into her dress blues. Ashley was slightly proud of the fact that she'd never had to have them tailored since she first had them altered for her graduation. While many of her comrades in arms had softened up a bit as they climbed the ranks, she had remained a lean, mean, fighting machine.
Well, except for that one time on extended leave back on Sirona. But who could say no to mom's home cooking? The important thing was, she had dropped the pudge before her next fitness test, so it never went on-record.
She took another quick look at her rear in the mirror, but all seemed to be well.
Her stomach growled as she finished getting dressed. She'd have to hurry, but there was time for a quick meal before she was expected on the Normandy.
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