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Shark is constantly tired, considering the busy life of a clone captain on the GAR's frontlines, but he always leaves some time in his schedule for helping his brothers with the customization of their armor.

His own armor is highly customized, it has a sharklike fin on the buy’ce, foldout blades on the kom’rke and greaves, and not to mention his multicolored paint. It’s like this: A swathe of storms in gray across his chest, a sharklike grin stretched across his face, a pattern of tiger stripes in light blue spanning his arms and legs, and a zigzag of 58th battalion purple sharpening the edges of his pauldrons. His designs are quite literal when you think about it, he is Shark after all.

He's helping his vod’ika customize their armor today, because Neuro deserves to have the customizations that Key never got to make to his armor. Neuro’s armor is painted with a detailed skeleton in terracotta, but with a cartoonish skull in the center of the ribcage, the bucket has a brain painted on it, the hand armor has multicolored tallymarks, their right pauldron holds the medic sigil, and in 58th purple, a distinct pattern of five blaster marks. That blaster mark paint carries the weight of a batchmate’s life on it.

With Shark’s help, Neuro adds a wrist mounted grappling hook, an emergency ration (or snack) pouch, and multiple concealed vibroblades to their kit. Not to mention the stickers they steal from Shark’s collection (they'll feign innocence later, while actively applying said stolen stickers to their armor). Well, Shark could never get mad at Neuro, the kid is just too sweet.

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Tooka had always known that they were different. From the very first time they asked an ori’vod about the river. They had been 2 and a half, and they had asked their ori’vod, Gloria, “Why does nobody talk about the river?” It was an innocent question, but Gloria looked at Tooka as if they were crazy at first, then after a sudden realization had dawned, he had immediately told them that they couldn't mention the river to anyone, or else the kaminiise would pick apart their brain. Tooka had promised that they wouldn't tell anyone, though that wasn't a promise they would keep. The river had helped them over the years, though, on a multitude of different occasions.

When Tooka was 3, the river showed them how to avoid the kaminiise, and so they used that to help their batch.

“Watch out!” Tooka whispered as they felt a twinge in the back of their skull, an insistent wave from the river, telling them that a longneck was about to turn the corner. Shark and Cole helped hoist everyone into the vents to hide, but Tooka was, inevitably, asked how they knew the kaminoan would be there. So, they had explained the river to their batch, the first of many times that they broke their promise to Gloria, and they had felt awful about it, apologizing profusely to their ori’vod. Gloria had told them that it was okay, but not to do it again.

When Tooka was 4 and a half, the river showed them which vode they could trust. The currents guided them towards those that would eventually become their friends. Eventually they let things slip, and had to tell their friends about the river, but the currents told them that it was fine. They didn't tell Gloria this time, because they knew that it was fine.

When Tooka was 6, the river showed them souls, and they told their friends and their batchmates what their minds were like. Cole was a canvas painting. Shark was a bird, one of those exotic, colorful birds from the holos. Jester was a jingling bell, or maybe a piece of multicolored fabric. Nyx was a cup of glitter, waiting to fall on someone's head. Flora was a garden. Galaxy was a fish, specifically the ones that can walk, though. Marks was a shower of metallic confetti. Darts was a dartboard, no surprise there. Warden was a fluffy creature of some sort, the kind that lives in a cave. Eight was a prank bomb, the kind filled with glitter and multicolored confetti. Jen was a piece of candy. Gloria was a sort of iron-flavored fruit that Tooka would later learn was called a blood cherry. Warlock was a jar of broken glass, or a cactus, depending on the day. Rat was a sticker. Neuro was a butterfly. Aiga was a warm hug. Aztec was soup. Snapper was the sound of a snap of the fingers, which Tooka thought meant that Snapper had chosen his name very well. Helm was a ball of pure stress. Hydra was one of those adorable snakes. Tevon was an eye roll. And finally, Tycse was a flower. Tycse would call this an indignity when he found out, but Tooka stood by their assessment regardless.

When Tooka was almost 8, the river showed them an omen, but they hadn't understood it at the time. They understood it later, crying, as Cole was ripped away from his batch. Cole had always been afraid of blood, a trait that the kaminiise did not favor in clones, but Tooka and their batch had helped to hide this as long as they could. It didn't help in the end. When CT-8879 had entered the barracks again the next day, they were no longer Cole. Tooka had never felt so helpless in their life. At first, they begged the river to give Cole back, but soon enough they realized that Cole might be gone, but a new soul was in his place, one of soft powder snow, a kitten, a blank canvas, a paintbrush hesitating over the palette. They hugged their vod and told them that they wouldn't trade them for the world, they helped them pick a name, Ollie, and told them about the river and their soul. Tooka knew they could trust Ollie.

When Tooka was 9, they were in their first battle, and they had lost their helmet somewhere in the fray. They’d been knocked down, and felt a searing pain across their face, and when they woke up in the medbay, they couldn't see a thing. The river showed them how to notice with their other senses, but even so, it was a lot, and Tooka and the other vode had attempted at first to keep their blindness from their jetiise, but that hadn't lasted very long. It turns out, jetiise are very good at noticing, though they have yet to notice that Tooka can sense the river. With practice, they could probably move something with the currents, like the jetiise do, but they are quite content to simply utilize it to feel their environment and lead them where they need to be like a helpful guide.

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1. 3 Friends

Aiga has three friends, never any more. Too many, and the meaning isn't true anymore. Too few, and you have nobody to cry with. Aiga’s friends are Neuro—his favorite medic (sorry Warlock)—, Shark—his sergeant and now captain (the man who’s saved his life more times than he can count)—, and Stork—the quartermaster (who always gives him the extra fluffy blankets because he knows that Aiga needs them to sleep well)—.

2. 3 Checks

Aiga always checks his work three times, not that he thinks he got anything wrong, but just because he has to. He feels like the universe is imploding if he doesn't. This means he took more time on work as a cadet, which wasn't acceptable, so he just had to deal with feeling like he was going to die 24/7 for years. He's allowed to take as much time as he needs on his flimsiwork now.

3. 3 Naps

Aiga can't sleep at night, not since six of his batchmates disappeared into the night without a sound. Bo, Matchbox, Lamb, Wheel, Shiver, and Ruby were their names. Before they disappeared as well, his remaining three batchmates and he would take shifts sleeping at night to make sure the longnecks couldn't catch them unawares (not that they'd be able to do anything about it if the kaminoans did come for them). Tin, Macaw, and Flower were stolen away in broad daylight, one at a time, until Aiga was the only one left, shoved into a scraps batch until he made it into a squad. They were good vode, but he hasn't seen them since they were split up when they were 7. Aiga naps three times during the day, which is what he means when he tells Neuro that he takes breaks. Neuro is not impressed when he finds out because “it doesn't count as a break if it's the only time you're sleeping!”, and so Aiga is put in a barracks with vode that understand his situation and are happy to sleep in shifts so Aiga can actually catch a break for once.

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Aq'uonn would say that he hates desert planets, but if he did, his Master would lecture him with the whole “Jedi don't hate” thing again. He knows that already! It's a figure of speech, dammit! As it is, he'll say that he strongly dislikes deserts, perhaps even that he loathes them. What he does not loathe, however, is the ice cream that his Master bought for the battalion from the market here. He wonders idly for a moment if he can convince (read: mind trick) Staff and the rest of the Kitchen into giving him a second serving of ice cream, before deciding that one of his borrowed books will occupy his time better. He opens to where his bookmark is tucked between the old flimsi pages, humming as he reads the annotations in the margins, courtesy of his friends and their glittery gel pens.

Aq'uonn loves snowy worlds like this one, they almost make her feel like she's back home on Csilla. The glitter, the chill, she smiles at it. The vode, however, are not as happy about this, she realizes, as she listens to their grumbling while they set up camp. She refused to put on more than a light jacket, while everyone else bundled up tight, even though she mainly grew up on coruscanta, she still runs at a higher body temperature like most Chiss, and she has to wear light clothing in the heat, one of many reasons she dislikes desert worlds. She sits in the snow and feels mildly chilly, whereas her human counterparts are teeth-chatteringly cold even in the relative warmth of the tents. Hot cocoa is made, and she downs two whole mugs (with marshmallows) before piling into one of the tents which is currently housing a vod pile. Vod piles remind her of the Chiss nests back on Csilla, a sharing of warmth in the temperature drop of the night.

Rainforest worlds are officially the worst! In addition to oppressive heat, the air is so humid it feels like breathing in soup! Aq'uonn would be perfectly content to never come back to a rainforest planet in his entire life! He agrees with the Vode here, they're all covered in muck and he is too. His Master always tells him that Jedi shouldn't complain about their surroundings, but Aq’uonn is 13, and also a soldier, so he thinks he deserves a little bit of complaining. However, there is sweet fruit that Aq'uonn loves…

Swamps are just as gross as rainforests. Well, maybe a little better, because they're cooler, usually. They're more muddy though, which gets Aq'uonn’s armor and robes all dirty. And yes, she wears armor. She's not stupid, unlike many other Jedi that she could name. Seriously, who wears a crop top into battle? Definitely not Aq'uonn, not that she even owns any crop tops. Why would she, they're so… unprotective. There aren't even any sweet treats on this mission, and she doesn't dare even bring her book for fear that it will get ruined by the damp air. Blech.

Nothing could compare to a snowy world, but this sweet farming world certainly comes close. Quilann is a nice place, and this isn't even a mission, so Aq'uonn gets to enjoy it in full. There are so many cool things, though she, and several troopers, were disappointed that the chocolate covered krykote were savory instead of sweet. The vode who tried them with her were quite surprised, as well, when they learned that krykote are insects, but Eight and Darts admitted that they were good regardless. Tooka tasted a blood cherry, then immediately pointed at Gloria and shouted, “IT'S YOU!” before stalking away. Aq'uonn doesn't really understand Tooka, but it's fun to watch her Master and other Jedi puzzle over them as well.

The Sanctuary Temple is the most beautiful place Aq’uonn has seen on Quilann. Aq’uonn and her Master first approached the Sanctuary along with a few of the Vode. A dense ring of trees surrounds the Sanctuary, leaving a clear entrance arch that looks purposefully grown, and perhaps it is, with the way the branches tangle together. Within the tree circle is a dome like the houses in Quilann’s villages, but much larger, and rather than painted with one clan color, the base of the paint is in large, overlapping swathes of a multitude of colors, faded over years of weathering, with murals and stories painted over them. The inside is even more marvelous, with the walls carved so the central hearth casts shadows that tell a story, not to mention the hearth itself, with its chimney a sculpted tree, a stage built as a platform around the flames, and the glittering tiko crystals hung from the branches to catch reflecting firelight. Four smaller hearths are evenly spaced across the floor, used as kitchens, for warmth, and as places to tell stories and reconnect. The floor is made of packed earth, stomped flat by generations of quillanians and millions of visitors. The scents of incense and firewood stain the grand room, and the sounds of carved bone instruments echo through the hall. Aq'uonn is told that below the surface stretch an elaborate maze of tunnels, with angled mirrors reflecting the firelight from the grand hearth into dozens of large rooms. Aq'uonn believes it. Even when the hall is near empty, the Force echoes loud with the footfalls and voices of generations past, dancing, singing, storytelling, playing instruments, holding festivals, and so much more. The Sanctuary has history in its ancient, peaceful halls. Aq'uonn stands taller just knowing this place exists in the same universe as her. Still not as nice as a frozen world though.