"The Empire's could probably stand some waiting," Bash muses, grin wide and expressing little to no concern. "Maybe some strategic planning time. Think about why it's a good idea not to put an explodey hatch right in the middle of their gigantic murder ball."

Being forcefully started is good. It's very good. He really needs to - to figure out how his limbs work and where they're going and if he's able to navigate the whole legs situation maybe the finer workings of utensil-holding bits won't be too daunting later.

"Dude, what you sorry to me for?" he laughs, knocking their shoulders together pointedly and veering off to the left. (In the right direction, for once. Which happens to be left.) A snort, head tipping in quick assessment. "What're you sorry to them for? I'm pretty sure I've knocked into half the continental United States in the last few days."