At last the shooting session wrapped up and they spent the better part of an hour picking up the expended shell casings that littered the range. Wilton then made them run back to the base at triple time, once again discharging their tanks.
By the time they made their way through the airlocks and back into normal gravity and pressurization, all of them were exhausted. Wilton told them to hit the locker rooms and get their biosuits off and back into their normal clothes so they could spend another three hours in the classroom learning the finer points of movement and tactics.
Lisa followed the men into the locker room that had been set aside for the use of the special forces teams. Wilton and the other instructors had given her access to a small storage room adjacent to the locker room for the purpose of changing her clothing in privacy but she had adamantly refused it, not wanting to have any difference between herself and the other SF troops in training. So far she had only put her biosuit on over her shorts and T-shirt. Now however she would have to strip completely naked and shower in front of them.
The locker room was quite large, large enough for an entire company to dress and shower in at once. A long plastic bench sat before each row of metal lockers. She found the locker that Wilton had reluctantly assigned to her and opened it by placing her fingerprint on the locking mechanism. She released the seal on her helmet and pulled it off, setting it on the bench before her. Her short hair was damp with her perspiration. She took a few deep breaths of the stale air, glad to be breathing anything other than the manufactured variety, and then began undoing the clasps that held her biosuit body in place. She slid it off so that she was standing only in her sweaty shorts and T-shirt. She looked around and saw that the men within view were moving slowly at removing their own equipment. Some were casting glances at her, others were trying their best to ignore her, all seemed very uncomfortable with her presence.
She thought of saying something to them and then decided not to. To hell with it. The sooner they got used to her being among them, the better. She reached down and pulled her shirt over her head, dropping in into a laundry bag in her locker. Her ample breasts were now covered with nothing more than a nylon work-out brassiere. She pulled this off as well, baring them for anyone to see. She could plainly hear the gasp of surprise from those around her. It was apparent that they hadn't thought she'd really go through with this. She continued to ignore them and dropped her shorts and underwear as well, leaving her completely nude. She stuffed the rest of the clothes into her locker and then picked up a clean towel and a bottle of liquid soap. Strolling almost casually she headed for the lockers, passing between groups of men.
"Better hurry up," she said flippantly, speaking to no one in specific. "We only have twenty minutes until we're due in the class. Wouldn't want to be late."
No one moved, no one replied.
She stopped and looked at them, amused to see that many of them - these tough, macho guys who fancied themselves the best of the best - were actually blushing. "Oh come on, you assholes," she said, just a hint of challenge in her voice. "Are you afraid of a naked woman? Surely a few of you have seen tits and ass before. Are you afraid to shower with me?"
She walked off towards the community shower area. Here were a series of showering stations situated above tile floors with drains in the center. Each station held a fixture that featured six nozzles in a circular pattern. She hung up her towel and then stepped up to the first one.
"Shower on," she told the computer that controlled it. "Thirty-eight degrees."
The spray activated, sending a stream of droplets out at moderate pressure. She stepped under it and sighed as the warm water caressed her tired skin. She turned this way and that under the stream, thoroughly wetting herself. Finally she picked up her body wash and poured a generous amount into her hand. She picked up a washrag and began soaping herself up, cleaning the sweat and the grime from her body.
Soon, one by one, the men began to come into the shower area as well. All were naked, carrying towels with them. They took up positions at the other shower stations and turned on the heads. None came over to the station that she was using and all went to pains to keep their front ends turned away from her. She looked straight ahead, at the water spraying out of the tap, keeping her eyes to herself, not caring if they looked at her or not. She was determined that they were just going to have to get used to this situation, like it or not.
Once her body was clean she put some of the body wash in her hand and soaped up her hair, closing her eyes while she lathered up with her fingers and then rinsed all of it back off. When she opened her eyes up she noticed a form standing next to her. It was Stillwell, his naked, well-formed body dripping with water from his own shower, his eyes looking her up and down appreciatively.
"You want something, Stillwell?" she asked, her eyes burning into his.
He offered a lascivious smile towards her. "It looks like you're the one who wants something," he said. "Why else would you come into a locker room full of men and get naked?"
She looked at the shower fixture for a moment and said, "Shower off." She then looked back at him, her face putting back on the glare that was becoming her trademark. "I think you'd better step away from me in the next two seconds or you're gonna find your face kissing that drain," she told him.
He chuckled. "Now don't be that way, baby," he told her. "You sucked your way into SF so you could bang for the gang, didn't you? Well here we are, ready to bang. Why don't we stop all the bullshit and get down to it?" He reached out his hand towards her breast, intending to stroke it.
As quick as lightening she reached out and grabbed the hand while it was still more than half a meter from her. She pulled sharply on it, as if to twist his body around. Instinctively he pulled back, trying to remove himself from her grip. When his back-pull was at it's strongest she let go of him, which caused him to slingshot backward, his body off balance. While he was struggling to keep from falling over backward her foot shot out and neatly kicked his left leg out from beneath him. He crashed down quite comically, his butt landing in a puddle of soapy water that had accumulated around the drain and throwing up a large splash. A startled "oomph" came from his mouth. Laughter welled up from all the men who had witnessed this, good old derisive, contemptuous laughter at the man who had just been sent to the ground by a naked woman.
This infuriated Stillwell. "You fuckin bitch!" he yelled, jumping to his feet, his fists raised and ready for combat.
Lisa raised her own fists up and widened her stance. "You think you can take me, you little prick?" she asked him calmly. "Come and get some if you think you can. Make your move."
He didn't move towards her. "I ain't gonna hit no woman," he said, as if proclaiming some deep religious leaning.
"Why not?" she asked. "I just put your wimpy ass on the floor, didn't I? Made that little dick of yours shrivel up like a slug with salt on it. Come and get me back. Take me out! If you think you can."