Get cleaned up

“Oh, but look at you, where are my manners?” the armoured woman exclaimed before opening a door to her left and beckoning you inside. “You should get out of those filthy rags and get yourself cleaned up”.

Following her into what turned out to be a shower room, you reflected on how right she was about your current attire. Your clothes and you had been through a great deal of punishment in the last few hours and as a result you were caked in a rather unattractive selection of blood, sweat, engine oil and soot.

Rather unexpectedly you suddenly feel your shirt being pulled up and turn to realise that the woman has begun disrobing you. “Here let me help” she chimed as she lifted your shirt over your still stunned face. It was only when she then proceeded to try and remove your trousers that you finally remembered to do something.

“Actually I think I can do that my self” you say, turning your back to the oddly forward lady and lowering you trousers. It's not that you are particularly uncomfortable with the idea of taking off your clothes in front of a woman, I mean you've done it at least twi... a number of times, it's just that normally those women haven't just met you and are usually not clad in power-armour.

She points to the open shower area at the end of the room and tells you to “go ahead, wash yourself”.

Approaching the array on nozzles, you experimentally press a button on the wall and are rewarded with a soothing spray of lukewarm water. Finally able to relax, you soon forget where you are and engross yourself in using a nearby soap bar to clean the varied muck off your body.