Does he deserve to feel comfortable?

Every job here supports Quality Assurance. The sheep who works in the mailroom never puts his hands on an SP round, but he delivers the letters that request them by the ton. The sheep who makes up the shuttle schedules doesn’t keep the Summerkind working double shifts, but the work crews don’t make it to their sites without him. Does he deserve the chance to forget that? 

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe, he thinks some sweltering nights, if he could only burn hot enough in his heart, then Apollo’s curse would feel like a refreshing breeze. But that was a silly thought for Dolce of Beri to have. Even if he was some unstoppable ram of war, with a hunger for E N D L E S S B A T T L E, what good would that do anyone? He wouldn’t be unstoppable for long, that’s for sure. Far better to bide his time, escape when the time was right and get a warning to the others ahead of the fleet. It wouldn’t do the Summerkind any good. He’d have to settle for saving his home.

If Vasilly were here, that’s just the sort of thing she’d tell him.

At least, he hoped it was. And not just the thing he wanted to hear, because it was easier. Because it was a relief to his weary heart. Because it meant he didn’t have to do anything grander than…

Well, the Summerkind were quick learners, but it was a lot quicker to have someone give you supplies and a recipe rather than try and re-create the culinary arts from scratch. Nor had anyone bothered to teach them how to survive on anything more than bare necessities. Under his watch, the kitchens remained fully stocked with refreshing drinks and cool, soothing dishes, just the thing after a long day spent working in the sun. He manned one of the kitchens himself, when he had the time, working out new dishes so the menus wouldn’t get stale, and serving the troops himself.

The Summerkind deserved at least that much.