Kos worked his way to the showers, shrugging himself out of his clothes, and slipping into the shower. Being out in space made for the rationing of water, which made for some pretty queer showers, most of which fell a bit short of leaving a man fully cleaned, but now that they were docked, they ahd some downright decent waterflow, straight from the tanks used by the dock, so he flicked the water on to full blast, and sighed as the warm water caressed his muscles. Damn, he missed this. He scrubbed himself clean rather quickly, because, even though he was enjoying this thoroughly, he was usually adverse to wasting water, and he was out again in a comparatively short time, feeling fresh, with a clean set of clothes on, weapons tucked neatly out of sight, his short hair as organized as could be.<br/><br/>He stepped out, feeling better for the shower, although he could have done with a shove, he noticed, too late. The bristle would have to stay, he supposed. For now, anyway. He scowled mistrustfully at the sweaty, smelly men that were carrying the crates that he had piled away, in the most disorganized fashion possible. He scowled at them, and looked as intimidating as he possibly could, to make sure the men there kept their stinking fingers off of anything that they weren't supposed to touch. It worked rather well, he thought, and they seemed to make work more efficient, if only to get out from under the glare of the powerfully built man. Once they were done, he turned to Cal," Shall we, Capt'n?"