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Bow wasn’t really sure how to feel about their upcoming trip into space to rescue Glimmer (and maybe Catra!? Etheria sure had changed over the last few weeks.). Frankly, they were lucky the ship still worked after crashing into the planet, being left to rot for a millennium, and picked over by scavengers. But that meant packing supplies and rations for a trip of indeterminate duration…and taking them from people who were already tightening their belts as Horde Prime’s army slowly expanded its control.
Some of the choices were easy - as many arrows as he had crafted, the adorable spacesuits Entrapta had whipped up. Others were harder: did they need to pack three weeks of food? Or would two be enough? Three would be safer, right? Especially if they did rescue Glimmer (and maybe Catra?). Bow gazed out the ship’s window at a pair of mushroom children, recent arrivals at the refugee camp/military headquarters, running and playing. Two would probably be plenty.
“Bow!” Entrapta’s voice, shrill and excited, cut through his despondence. “I was looking for you.” She clomped over, heavy boots on echoing metal. “I wanted to compare notes on what sorts of tools you have available. See if there’s anything we need to fabricate before we depart.” She stretched out the word fabricate with an unholy glee. She cocked her lavender-haired head to one side. “Staring into space, startle response upon my arrival,” she mumbled. “Were you thinking about Glimmer?” she asked with what Bow thought was mostly genuine concern and only slightly curiosity at testing her hypothesis.
“No. Well, not really. Just insofar as getting ready for the trip counts.” He sighed and leaned back in the ship’s chair. “It’s just…we’re going off on a mission that might get us all killed the minute we break Etheria’s atmosphere if something malfunctions. We’re taking supplies that could go to fight the Horde just to rescue Glimmer.” And maybe Catra, his brain appended unhelpfully. “And I just want to make sure I’m doing the right thing, because I,” love Glimmer, the same voice added. “Glimmer and I have been friends longer than I can remember. And I don’t know how rational I’m going to be.”
“Well, I tried the hyper-rational path and wound up building an army of robots for the Horde,” Entrapta said with a shrug. “Soooo…maybe don’t do that? Not entirely sure, actually. Still working on the whole interpersonal relationships thing. And the whole moral philosophy thing.” She clapped both hands and both hair tentacles on his shoulders. “You seem to be really good at both, though! Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Bow felt a certain tightness in his chest loosen. “Thanks, Entrapta. Any thoughts on how much food we should pack?”
Entrapta shrugged. “Assuming I can get the on-board recyclers functioning, a few days worth should be plenty.”
“That’s great!” Bow shouted, and pulled Entrapta into a hug. Then, as he realized what ‘recyclers’ meant, he felt the same tightness from before, but this time down in his intestines as sort of a preemptive reaction. “That’s…great,” he repeated, a little more woodenly, stubbornly keeping his mind’s eye on the starving children they’d be helping and not on what they’d be recycling. He sighed. “Come on, I’ll give you a hand.”