After stowing her gear in her room, Arelyn headed for the refresher, intent on getting a good shower in before the day was out. Bacta worked wonders, but it wasn't exactly her favorite smell. She'd have showered at the clinic, but she didn't like feeling vulnerable out in public.
Finishing up, she dressed quickly into a tank top and black slacks and headed for her turret. Now that she wasn't a walking bruise, she wanted to see exactly how bad her gun emplacement had been hit. Entering the override code for the door, she stood back as it slid open, revealing the inside of her turret. Nothing looked too out of place at first, so Arelyn took a few cautious steps inside. As she neared her seat, the damage to her guns became apparent. The side panels and parts of the ceiling were scored blackish with plasma backwash and a sweetly acrid smell emanated from the machinery below her control yoke. Crouching down, she ran a finger over the fried power couplings and frowned at the black residue that accumulated.
"Bloody pirates," she muttered, placing a foot on the side of her turret's base, then swinging her leg up and over the barrel, straddling it. Reaching up into a recess in the ceiling, she brought down the back-up diagnostic panel and brought it online. This was one of the Scimitar's many little quirks, as the screen for the panel faced away from the gunner's seat, forcing anyone who wished to use it to sit on the gun barrel itself and lean forward to see it. Jyot had promised to rectify that for her at some point, but had never gotten around to it, since it was just the backup panel. She wrinkled her nose at the main panel off to the side; the screen was cracked and half the keys were missing from the instruments.
She clucked her tongue, pulled a hydrospanner out of her pocket and began to tinker.