The medal ceremony two days later is a bit overwhelming. Droidbait steps out into the hangar and is completely floored by the sight of the entirety of Torrent Company standing at attention on either sides of the bay. He almost freezes in awe, but Echo (a day out of bacta and hindered by strict orders to take it easy) claps him on the back, prodding him forward.

Generals Kenobi and Skywalker are waiting for them at the center of the men. Droidbait feels a strange mixture of excitement and anticipation shoot through his body at the sight. The Jedi don't look like much at first sight, but Droidbait knows with absolute certainty that these men are warriors just as his brothers are. Skywalker moves with a surety in his step that oozes confidence and strength. Kenobi's movements are more refined—his stride is graceful and poised, but there is hidden tension in every motion, like a loth cat preparing to pounce. They are compatible opposites. Droidbait watches them, and easily understands how they work so well together.

Kenobi is the one to present Droidbait with his medal. The Jedi gives Droidbait a kind smile, one that Droidbait's never seen directed at him by anyone but a brother. He decides very quickly that he likes the 212th's General.

"On behalf of the Republic, we thank you for your valiant service," General Kenobi says. It's a scripted line, one said at most, if not all, clone congratulatory ceremonies, but when Kenobi says it, it sounds sincere. "And, we honor your comrade's sacrifices."

Droidbait's heart skips a beat, and he clenches his jaw in guilt.

Nub and O'Niner shouldn't have died.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Fives receiving his medal from General Skywalker. His brother is… tense. He's standing at attention, but far too stiffly, and his knees are locked. His expression is almost blank as the Jedi pins the medal to Fives' chestplate. Skywalker doesn't seem to notice, moving on to Cutup, and the moment he is out of view the tension eases out of Fives' body.

It's strange. Fives admires and trusts General Skywalker with his whole being, and has said so dozens of times. Droidbait tries to make eye contact, but Fives is staring off into space, and doesn't even glance at him.

Fortunately the rest of the ceremony isn't actually very long. Unfortunately, the 501st are still very much in a celebratory mood, and the moment the Jedi dismiss them Droidbait gets whisked into the bustling crowd before he can make his way over to Fives for answers. It takes a while to extract himself from the throngs of brothers. Droidbait is starting to wonder how the 501st ever gets anything done if they party this much.

Eventually he manages to find Echo, who's chatting with two clones in the shadow of a gunship's wingspan. Echo takes one look at Droidbait's face and barks out a laugh.

"A bit overwhelming, isn't it?" he says gleefully, and Droidbait can only sigh and nod. Echo grins. "You'll get used to it. It isn't normally like this, anyway. The 501st rarely gets downtime, and even when they do it's not usually spent partying. This is a special occasion."

Droidbait shrugs.

"I'm sure I'll get used to it, and I don't actually mind, but I wanted to talk to Fives. Have you seen him?"
Echo takes one look around the chaotic hangar and shakes his head.

"Nope. And if he put his bucket on, there's no way you'll find him in this mess. We haven't painted our armor yet." A flash of annoyance crosses his face as the ARC glances down at his armor. "Speaking of which, we need to do that as soon as possible. I'm not looking like a shiny for any longer than I have to."

The two clones standing nearby him chuckle and slap Echo on the back.

"He saves the Republic one time and thinks that means he's not a shiny," the first one says teasingly. Echo shoots him a good-natured grin, but there's just a hint of smugness in his eyes.

"Aw, shut up, Ringo. You're just mad you didn't get a medal."

Ringo snorts. "Why would I want a medal? A medal for us is like saying, 'Congratulations, you didn't die!' I'd like to stay alive for as long as possible, thanks, and that means not being in situations where getting a medal is the alternative option to death."

Someone slings an arm over Droidbait's shoulders as he starts to turn away from Echo and company. For an instant he tenses, but then he sees that it's just Attie, with a wide grin on his face.

"Congrats, brother!" Attie crows. "How does it feel to be a hero?"

Droidbait considers for a moment.

"Not much different," he confesses. "Louder, I guess. The medal keeps clattering against my armor."

Attie chuckles. "Allow me to help with that, then," he says slyly, and makes a swipe for it. Droidbait swats his hand away.

"Back off, heathen," he growls, but the effect is ruined when he's unable to keep a straight face.

"Oh, come on, Droidbait. This is the last time we'll get to celebrate for a while. We've got to take advantage of it while we still can," Attie tells him. Droidbait sighs.

"I know that, but really, I wanted to ask Fives a couple questions—"

"Can't it wait?" Attie says, and his expression suddenly turns mischievous. "Because I've got something in my back pocket that I think you'd really enjoy…"

Droidbait pauses.

"If it's spice—"

"No!" Attie protests vehemently. "Kriff, no. I'm not an idiot! Also… it's better than spice, I'd say."

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a tiny orb wrapped in thin paper. Droidbait gives it a doubtful look, observing the way Attie cups his hand to prevent any other brothers from seeing it.

"What, really? You don't know what this is?" Attie asks incredulously. He unwraps the tiny thing and places it on his tongue, letting out a moan of appreciation. "It's candy! From Naboo!" He reaches back and pulls two more out of his pocket. "Here. You absolutely have to try one."

Droidbait reaches out, but before he can take one another voice cuts through their conversation.

"Is that contraband I see?" Echo sing-songs, sidling up to Attie and snatching the candies from Attie's hand. Attie squawks in protest, diving for Echo's arm, but the ARC evades him. "Shame on you, boys! This is against regulations!" He pops one in his mouth as he speaks and sighs in bliss. "If we don't crack down on the illegal candy dealers, the whole GAR could be compromised!" His gaze turns sly. "I'm afraid you're going to have to turn all of your product over to me, gentleman."

"Not a chance!" Attie cries. "Not even under threat of court-martial!" His hand rests protectively over his back pocket. Without taking his eyes off of the threat Attie flicks another candy towards Droidbait, who barely manages to catch it. Curiously, he eyes it for a long moment before unwrapping it and putting it in his mouth.

It's euphoric. Droidbait gasps at the sweet taste, eyes going wide. It's a million times better than anything else he's ever had—clone rations aren't very diverse in taste. He sucks on the little sphere and rolls it around in his mouth, savoring the delicious flavor.

Droidbait decides that candy is his new favorite thing in the galaxy.

Echo grins, and takes a step forwards. Suddenly Droidbait's brother towers over them like some sort of predator. Attie tenses, and Droidbait makes a quick decision. He steps in between his brother and Attie, determined to defend their stash.

"So be it, then," Echo growls dramatically. Then he charges.

Droidbait and Attie take one look at the rushing ARC and flee like the whole Separatist army is behind them.

Some battles just aren't worth fighting. Sometimes, it's safer to just run.

(It turns out, candy isn't exactly against regulations, just heavily frowned upon—and Attie is the unofficial dealer of sweets for all of Torrent. Droidbait tries not to look to pleased when he learns that, but he doesn't do a very good job. Both Echo and Attie smirk at him knowingly, and Attie quietly presses three more of the little orbs into his palm.

They're all gone within the minute.)

It isn't until later that night that Droidbait remembers he had meant to confront Fives about his discomfort around the General. Sometime during the sleep cycle, when everyone else is asleep, Droidbait is woken by hushed voices above him. He opens his eyes. It's dark in the barracks, but he can just make out two pairs of legs dangling from the bunk above him—the two clones are sitting side by side.

"I'm telling you the truth, Echo!" Fives hisses softly. "Why would I be lying about something like this?"

"I… I know you aren't lying," Echo whispers slowly. His voice is sorrowful. "I know you aren't, but that doesn't make me want to believe it."

Fives sighs. "Look, I—I had hoped he'd believe me. I thought he would. I trusted him with my life, with my brother's lives—but he didn't believe me. You know how close he is to the Chancellor. Maybe…"

"No."

"No, what? Echo, you can't just dismiss the possibility that he's—!"

"The General is not part of this. Maybe he didn't believe you, but that's different. After fighting beside him for so long you can't honestly tell me that you think he'd do that to us."

"I thought that about the Chancellor, too—"

"But you don't know the Chancellor. Not like we know General Skywalker," Echo interrupts. "Perhaps… perhaps he's being fooled just as we are. He cares for us, possibly more than any other Jedi cares for their troops. I know that with every fiber of my being. Maybe the only way for the Chancellor to fool him as well is to get up-close and personal."

"And maybe you're wrong," Fives murmurs. "I can't—I can't trust him. I don't want to trust him. What if the same thing happens? What if he turns on us like the Chancellor already has?"

Fives' voice had started to get louder as he spoke. Echo shushes him. In the bunk across from them, Hevy shifts, muttering something unintelligible in his sleep. Fives and Echo freeze until Hevy settles, letting out deep, steadying breaths.

"We don't have a choice but to trust him—at least, not until we can get more information on the chips. Fives, we can't afford to not trust General Skywalker right now. Regardless of what he did at the end of your past life, he's a good man. He treats us well, and he's a strong leader. There could have been a number of reasons why he didn't believe you the first time. You have to admit, it does sound a bit far-fetched if the information isn't presented right."

Fives sighs again.

"You… you're right," he agrees slowly. "You're right. I know the General. He's not the betraying type. He's just as loyal to us as we are to him."

"Patience," Echo advises softly. "Patience, brother. Once we get evidence, we'll be able to fix things. We can prove this to the Jedi. We just need a little more time."

"Time… do we have time? There's a war going on. With every second, hundreds more of our brothers die," Fives says glumly. "And how the kriff are we going to find this blasted evidence, anyway? We can take the chips out, sure, but that isn't going to be enough."

"I don't have all the answers, Fives," Echo tells him gently. "I don't know how we're going to do it. But we're going to try, and keep trying even if it kills us. We're behind you every step of the way, too. There's five of us this time, between us all I think we'll be able to figure something out."

There's a brief pause.

"Such an optimist," Fives finally grumbles. "It's sickening."

Echo lets out a chuckle.

"'M only an optimist when you need me to be," he replies. "Listen, it's getting late. Go get some rest. Sleep on it. You'll have a clearer mind in the morning."

"Fine, fine," Fives mutters. Droidbait closes his eyes and evens out his breathing as Echo climbs down and makes his way to his own bunk, the one right beneath Coric's.

Droidbait's mind is swirling with thoughts that make it hard to rest. He doesn't know what to think of General Skywalker anymore—there's so much he doesn't know yet, both about this world and their past world. A solid conclusion on what to believe is far too hard to come by, but eventually he pushes his doubts to the back of his mind and steadies himself.

He can't afford to distrust their commanding officer now, just as Echo had said. It's too risky to do so, especially this early in the war. Droidbait knows Rishi was only the beginning. There's far more difficult trials ahead, after all, and if Droidbait hesitates, he'll die.

Sleep doesn't come easily. Eventually it does come, but it is uneasy.

There is no end in sight to the deception, and Droidbait is very much afraid of what is to come.

Leave ends the next morning, and the 501st are finally shipped out. It's one thing to be on board a vessel on leave, it's another thing entirely to be on an active-duty, soon-to-be-on-the-front-lines cruiser. Infantry divisions haven't been given their in-flight duties quite yet, but Droidbait watches as the ship's crew darts through the hallways in what appears to be organized chaos, barking out orders and talking into radios with technical terms that Droidbait couldn't ever hope to understand. He steps out into the hallway just outside the barracks and is nearly bowled over by a flustered mechanic. It's more than enough to convince him to return to the relative safety of the bunks. The majority of Beta squad is seated at one of the barrack tables, studying datapads or performing various acts of weapon maintenance.

"I'm glad we don't have to get involved in that mess," Cutup says as Droidbait joins them, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the bustling hallway. Del frowns, pausing slightly in his polishing of a DC-15A.

"Don't get too comfortable. The only reason we aren't involved right now is because they don't want incompetent infantrymen like ourselves getting in their ways. Once we jump to hyperspace and settle into a routine they'll start assigning us jobs."

"If you're lucky, it'll be a simple patrol through the core, or guard duty," Attie chimes in. "If you're unlucky, it'll be hard labor. Unloading gunships, carrying heavy tools, etc cetera."

"I don't mind those jobs," Zeer protests. Attie points double finger guns at him and mimes firing.

"That's because you, dear brother, are built like a wampa. The rest of us didn't get so lucky." Fives and Nax chuckle.

"Hey, hey, don't wake Coric," Hevy reminds them, and everyone stops for a moment to peer guiltily at the medic, fast asleep in his bunk. He'd pulled a triple shift at the medbay earlier, and even though they hadn't been deployed there'd been no shortage of minor injuries—and several broken limbs, mostly resulting from intoxicated stunts that hadn't ended well for the transgressors.

"Hey, newbies," Nax suddenly says, tilting his datapad forwards so the rest of them can see what he's looking at. "This report says we're getting another shipment of 501st-blue paint later today."

"Excellent," Echo exclaims. "I've been waiting for that since I got out of bacta."

"So eager!" Attie teases. "You already know what you're going to do with your armor?"

"I've got some ideas," Echo tells him, and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards a little.

An alarm blares through the ship—simply alerting the passengers of an impending jump to hyperspace. The jump is a smooth as it can possibly be with a class as big as the star destroyer, so no one goes toppling over. Droidbait, Hevy, and Cutup are caught a little off guard by the jerk, but it isn't enough to throw them off balance.

"Right, then," Del says, and stands up. "Stay in your blacks, men. We're taking a squad trip up to the training rooms while we don't have anything better to do."

"Ah, our first team sparring session," Nax says. "This'll be one to remember." He sounds cocky, and a bit smug. Across from Droidbait, Fives smirks.

"Don't you dare underestimate us," he challenges, and gets to his feet. "You'll regret it if you do."

Nax grins back at him, all teeth. His eyes glint. "Bring it on, shiny. Let's see what you're made of."

Droidbait has full confidence in his brother, but something about the way Nax stands puts him on edge. Attie seems to sense his unease and leans close to whisper in his ear.

"Nax fights dirty," he tells Droidbait quietly. "And he's ridiculously flexible. It's hard to pin him down. Even though he's a mechanic, he can beat everyone else almost easily. Even Zeer."

"Let's move, troops," Del orders (still at a reasonable volume, because they're going to let Coric sleep for as long as he needs to). Droidbait follows the rest of Beta out into the hall, and quashes down the brief flare of nerves that suddenly ignite in his gut.

This is going to be interesting.

They throw names into a helmet to decide who fights whom. To Fives' dismay, he does not draw Nax's name—in fact, Fives draws the blank slip of paper, because without Coric they only have nine people. He sulks on the sideline as the rest of them draw their opponent's names.

Echo is the one to get Nax. Cutup is with Attie, and Hevy gets Del. Droidbait is left with… Zeer. Which is not good. Attie winces and claps him on the back.

"Don't worry, he knows his own strength. Good luck!"

"Thanks," Droidbait replies sarcastically, but Attie only grins before jogging his way over to Cutup.

Del directs them in stretches for a few minutes before calling for Cutup and Attie to take their places on the mat. When he calls for them to begin, neither Cutup nor Attie wait to let the opponent take the first move—they throw themselves at each other.

Fives and Echo had done a fantastic job of teaching the rest of Domino hand-to-hand. Even so, their two-month crash course hadn't managed to teach them everything. They had gotten used to fighting each other—used to what their batch mates were thinking and how they would react to certain moves. Fighting against someone completely unfamiliar is visibly throwing Cutup off. Attie isn't particularly fast or strong, but he makes up for it in pure form. His positioning is flawless, and his footwork is impressive. ARC hand-to-hand is much more unpredictable and volatile… and in the end, that's what hurts Cutup the most. He's so used to the tricks the ARCs like to pull that the structured, traditional form catches him off guard.

Cutup is on the defensive for the majority of the spar, blocking Attie's kicks and punches and slowly being pushed towards the edges of the mats. Just when his blocks start to turn desperate, Del calls a halt to the match.

"Not bad," he tells them. "Not bad at all. Cutup, you have some work to do, but you've got tons of potential. Keep up the good work. Spar against people other than your batchmates, and you'll be able to adapt much easier to take on any combatant."

"Thanks, sir," Cutup says glumly, and casts a forlorn look at Fives. Fives claps him on the back.

"Chin up, soldier," he says. "We couldn't teach you everything in such a short time. You held your own against a seasoned fighter. That's something to be proud of."

Nax and Echo go next. Nax does fight dirty. He goes for the face, for between the legs, and pinches and prods whenever he can't get decent leverage for a good hit. At first, they seem evenly matched. They cross the mats several times, searching for openings and testing for weaknesses. At one point Echo manages to hold Nax down, but the mechanic twists underneath him in an impressive display of flexibility, throwing Echo off.

They are grappling in the center of the mats, struggling to overthrow each other, when suddenly Fives lets out a scoff.

"Come on, take him down, Echo," he calls impatiently. Echo glances away from Nax for a split second to raise an eyebrow at Fives, and then shakes his head, shoving Nax away from him. Nax recovers his balance quickly, but not quickly enough. Echo darts towards him far faster than he had before. He sweeps Nax's legs out from under him. Another moment later, Echo has Nax pinned on his stomach, with an arm twisted behind him and a knee in his back.

Attie lets out an impressed whistle, and Zeer hums in approval. Droidbait cheers. Del's face remains impassive, but he does raise an eyebrow at Echo.

"You were holding back?" he asks. Echo shrugs nonchalantly as he releases Nax, who scowls in defeat.

"If you want to call it that, sir," he answers. "I'd say a better definition is playing my cards close to my chest."

"Hmm," Del says by way of response, and then moves on without another word on the subject. "We're next, Hevy."

"Yessir," Hevy says boldly, and steps up to fight.

Del… does not go easy on Hevy. He's the most experienced of the Teth survivors (excluding the Captain), and it shows. Not a single movement is any wasted. In fact, for the first long minutes of the fight he just lets Hevy rail on him. Every move combination Hevy knows, he throws at their squad leader. Some of his attacks are quite impressive, but Del is steady as a rock, and patient as one, too.

Predictably, Hevy starts to get frustrated. His attacks begin to be interspersed with curses, causing Attie to giggle, and Echo to sigh in exasperation. Hevy's aggression and temper had always been a weak point of his, and even though Echo and Fives had attempted to break him out of his bad habits, they had only been partially successful.

"C'mon, fight back!" Hevy finally complains. He's panting hard. Del, on the other hand, looks almost perfectly composed. "This isn't even a spar!" Next to Droidbait, Echo facepalms.

"He never learns," Fives mutters, just a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You're good, but you're young," Del says calmly. "Eventually, you'll learn how this goes, but apparently, that day is not today."

"What—?" Hevy starts to stay, but that's as far as he gets, because Del springs into action, slamming an elbow into Hevy's jaw. Hevy had expended his energy on his futile attacks earlier, and isn't fast enough to block it in time. His whole body goes limp as he drops. Droidbait lets out a gasp and almost runs forwards in concern, but just as quickly as he'd gone down, Hevy begins to stir.

"Ugh, I… what? How long was I out?" he asks blearily, surprised to find himself on the floor. Del extends a hand towards him. Hevy takes it warily.

"Not even ten seconds," Del answers. Hevy winces as he's pulled to his feet, and rubs at his jaw. An angry purple bruise is just beginning to appear, and it'll no doubt look horrific in a few hours.

"Aw, kriff," Hevy mutters. He doesn't appear to have a concussion, but it's always better to be safe than sorry when brain trauma is involved. Fives makes him sit down on the sideline to check him over while Droidbait and Zeer take the mat.

Zeer is big. Bigger than any other brother Droidbait has seen. Droidbait himself is slightly smaller than the average clone. He can't help but wonder if somehow this was done on purpose, but Del's expression is professionally neutral as he watches them step up onto the mats.

Zeer smiles at him. It's probably supposed to be reassuring, but it makes Droidbait nervous.

"Come on, then, little brother," Zeer says. "Do your best. I won't hurt you."

"I know you won't," Droidbait replies automatically, because he knows that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Zeer won't hurt him. No brother would truly ever hurt another unless there was good cause. A couple of bruises hardly qualify as hurt, though.

"Go on, Droidbait! Show 'im who's boss!" one of his brothers shouts in encouragement—he's not sure which one, because his field of vision is narrowing until the only thing he's focused on is his opponent.

If he tries to grapple with Zeer, he'll lose for sure. Droidbait can't match Zeer's raw strength. At the same time, it's foolish to believe that just because Zeer is big, he'll be slow. Zeer is large, yes, but he isn't overly bulky. He's likely just as fast as any other brother, so Droidbait doesn't have the advantage in speed, either.

It's starting to look like he doesn't even have a chance at winning.

He gathers his courage and tentatively begins to strike out at Zeer. He's just testing the waters, and it proves to be a good decision. As he circles around the mats, experimenting with half-hearted blows that Zeer easily deflects, he realizes that Zeer's limbs are longer than usual as well. He's got tons of range.

That is also a very bad sign.

Zeer gets bored with his circling pretty quickly, and steps towards Droidbait. For an instant, Droidbait panics. He throws a desperate punch at his opponent, but it's clumsy, and leaves his right side completely open. Zeer takes advantage of it ruthlessly. A knee grazes Droidbait's ribs. He just manages to throw himself to the side fast enough to avoid the worst of it, and even then it's chilling to realize that Zeer's holding back—not because he's trying to hide his skills, or because he's being kind, but because at full strength he could easily break Droidbait's ribcage.

He dives to the side and rolls back to his feet, mind frantically searching for a solution. Zeer comes after him again, lashing out, and Droidbait has enough sense of mind to remember what he'd learned on Rishi. He blocks the punches, turning his body with the blows to lessen their impacts. It still hurts, and eventually Zeer gets in a good hit across Droidbait's chest. It sends him tumbling towards the edge of the mat. When Zeer pursues him a second time, Droidbait dodges his punch. To his surprise, Zeer stumbles. The momentum from his attack takes him off balance, and his long arm flails for just an instant.

For a half-second, Droidbait sees an opening.

But he's too far away to do anything about it.

Zeer recovers, and pulls his arms closer to his body. He narrows his eyes at Droidbait. He knows Droidbait saw the slip-up, and is determined not to make the same mistake twice. Droidbait has to find a way to make him do the same thing a second time.

They play cat and mouse for a few minutes, and Droidbait collects a few more bruises. Zeer isn't untouched, either, though—Droidbait manages to get a couple blows in from behind, across Zeer's back and side.

Droidbait tries to be patient, but Zeer is well aware of his flaws, and is being cautious now. He's holding his arms close, and his punches are more refined.

He's hyperaware of his arms… but not so much his legs.

His footwork is nothing special, not like Attie's had been. If he was guilty of overextending his arms during punches, it was quite possible his legs would do the same during a kick, or even a large stride. Droidbait thinks about Nax and Echo's spar, and makes a decision.

He throws caution to the wind and charges Zeer head on. Zeer is surprised by the change, but braces to meet him—but Droidbait darts to the side, making as if to aim another blow at Zeer's ribs.

Zeer is caught off balance, and still a bit confused. One of his legs jerks to the side to keep Droidbait from flanking him, but the other is supporting his full weight, and is stuck in place for an instant—

Droidbait reverses direction, steps into Zeer's personal space, and knees him right between the legs.

"I'm sorry!" Droidbait wails, for what feels like the hundredth time. "I didn't—well, I did mean to do it, but I didn't mean to!"

That doesn't make any sense, and he knows it doesn't, but he has no better way to explain himself.

Zeer is on the ground, hunched over and breathing through gritted teeth. He doesn't appear angry—in fact, there's amusement flashing across his face alongside pain—but that doesn't make Droidbait feel any less guilty. Del is hovering over Zeer in silent support. In the background, Fives, Echo, Hevy, Cutup, Attie, and Nax are still cackling.

"That's the way, Droidbait!" Nax cheers gleefully in between bouts of howling laughter. "That's it, brother, keep that up and you'll be unbeatable!"

Droidbait shifts his weight from one foot to the other anxiously and peers down at Zeer again. He seems to be recovering now, and offers Droidbait a tiny grin.

"Nice hit," he says, and tries to stand. He doesn't get very far before he inhales sharply and abandons the effort, sinking back down to the floor. Droidbait winces.

"I'm sorry!" he repeats. Zeer laughs weakly.

"If I left an opening that obvious, I probably deserved that," he says. "Regardless, you won fair and square, Droidbait. There were no rules against cheap shots, after all."

Del actually chuckles at that, and slings an arm around his squadmate. He tugs Zeer to his feet.

"Is it bad enough to need either the medbay or Coric?" he asks, as the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Zeer grimaces.

"Don't think so," he replies. "I can walk it off. Just… just give me a second…"

It sounds like Fives and Hevy are literally choking on their own laughter. Echo is attempting to compose himself, but every time he gets close he starts snorting again. Nax is impossibly smug. Attie and Cutup are muttering to each other, chuckling, and Droidbait doesn't even want to know what those two are up to.

"Alright, gentleman, I think that's going to be it for the day," Del announces. His serious demeanor isn't very effective with Zeer hanging off of his shoulder for support. "Back to the barracks, then. Let's go!"

Droidbait still feels guilty, but Zeer grabs onto him, limping forwards a few feet. Now that he can at least walk, there's clear mirth on his face.

"Really, brother, it's fine. It was a good hit. I didn't see it coming at all. Relax a bit, I'm not angry."

He's completely sincere. Droidbait relaxes.

"Thanks you," he says, and helps their momentarily crippled squadmate back to the barracks.

The hangar bay feels like an art studio. Like many other brothers scattered around the area, Droidbait is standing above his pure white armor, with a paintbrush in hand and a can of blue paint at his feet.

He doesn't know to do.

His armor is a blank canvas in front of him, and all around him brothers are getting to work, painting careful designs and patterns into armor. Making it theirs. But Droidbait has no idea what he wants his armor to look like. Each time he tries to imagine a design, it doesn't stick. It's not him. He hesitates, and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"No ideas, Droidbait?" Cutup asks glumly from next to him. Droidbait shakes his head.

"You'll think of something, boys," Echo encourages. He's already gotten started, and Droidbait feels it's safe to assume his armor is pretty much the same as it was in his first life. The ARC is busy painting two bold stripes on either sides of his helmet. "It took Fives a long time to decide what he wanted last time."

"Fives? But what about you?" Hevy asks. Echo grins.

"I had a little help from the Captain last time. This time, you four are gonna do it."

"Do what?" Droidbait asks. Echo waves a hand.

"Doesn't matter. I'll tell you after you finish your armor. Get going!"

"That wasn't particularly helpful, Echo," Cutup points out. He turns to Fives, who has been uncharacteristically quiet since they stepped into the hangar. Fives is holding his paintbrush loosely, and he's frowning deeply. "How'd you decide what to do, Fives?"

Fives sighs. "My first armor set had a stylized painting of a Rishi Moon eel on the helmet, and a Z-6 blaster cannon stenciled onto the left shoulder. I kept the eel once I became an ARC."

Cutup is staring at him with wide eyes, and so is Hevy.

"Why?" Cutup asks quietly. "Why would you do that?"

Fives puts a hand on his shoulder.

"To remind myself why I fight," he answers. "For a Republic victory… and for the safety of all my brothers." He takes a deep breath. "I thought, maybe, this time, you'd want the eel. I'll think of something different." Echo inhales sharply in surprise at his fellow ARC's words.

"I—" Cutup begins, and cuts himself off, glancing at the ground. "Fives, that design is yours. I have no right to take it from you."

"Consider it a gift, then," Fives says gruffly. "I can show you the design. It's nothing special, but—"
"Fives," Cutup interrupts firmly. "I don't want the eel. It doesn't mean the same things to me that it does to you."

Fives' mouth snaps shut, and he blinks at Cutup.

"But you killed one," he points out. Cutup sighs and closes his eyes for a brief moment.

"Yeah, I did. I guess it should mean something more to me, since it killed me before, but… it doesn't. I've moved past it. If anything, the eel is the last thing I'd put on my armor. It's a symbol of my own fear. I'm stronger than that now. My armor is going to represent something from this life, not the first one. I appreciate the offer, but I'll think of something on my own."

Fives nods. "Alright. I understand. I'll change it, anyway—I mean, it's—it's not really me anymore, either—"

"Liar," Echo accuses. "He's so attached to that armor pattern that he used to draw it just for fun every time he got his hands on a piece of flimsi."

"If it makes Cutup uncomfortable, I can't keep wearing it around!" Fives argues, but Cutup steps closer to him, holding Fives' gaze.

"Fives, it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all," he reassures gently. "Draw the design. I have a feeling it suits you."

Fives' expression smooths out, and suddenly there is relief evident on his face.

"Thanks, brother," he mutters, and returns to his armor to begin painting.

Droidbait turns back to his own armor, and is surprised to notice that while most of Domino had been distracted, Hevy had begun to paint. He's drawing surprisingly detailed blue flames curling around the sides of his helmet, and looks fairly pleased with himself.

"Cool," Cutup tells him. "But, why fire?"

"Because it's awesome," Hevy rationalizes. Droidbait shrugs. They can't argue with that. "But also because of Rishi," Hevy continues. "The double explosions started a new life for us. We're rising from the ashes of our old life. Also, can't fire represent… like, rebirth, or resurrection, or something?"

"Yep," Cutup confirms. "Good call. I like it."

Droidbait sighs and looks at his armor again. When, exactly, had been the moment he'd felt like a new life had begun? The explosions had certainly been spectacular, but he doesn't think that's quite the right moment to reflect on.

All at once, he remembers, and very slowly, he traces the ARC sign for one into the air.

Shooting the commando droid—his first kill—had been the moment Droidbait had felt he'd finally changed something. In the heat of the moment he'd been too high on adrenaline to truly appreciate the moment, and it wasn't until afterwards, when they had taken refuge in the cave, that he had gotten to sit back and grin in triumph.

He'd never felt more alive as he had in that moment, and the sensation had only continued. Each time he'd scrapped a clanker after that, it was accompanied by a fierce sense of pride and determination. He'd taken out seven commandos in total, and then four more battle droids during Echo's rescue. Droidbait had made careful note of each kill, committing them to memory almost automatically.

Rex has tally marks on the sides of his helmets. Droidbait knows they aren't for droids—they're most likely for completed missions, since the Captain's kill count is no doubt much higher than Droidbait's will ever be. But… Droidbait likes the idea.

He takes his paintbrush and puts eleven blue tally marks on the chestpiece of his armor, right above his heart—two groups of five, and one straggler.

"What're those?" Echo asks curiously, stepping behind him. Droidbait stares at his armor. It's still mostly blank, except for the tallies. But it isn't blank in a bad way. To Droidbait, it looks like potential.

"One for every droid," he explains. Echo grins.

"Not a bad idea, brother. A lot of boys try to keep their kill count like that, but they lose track eventually. Are you sure this is the way you want go?"

"I'm not going to lose track," Droidbait says firmly. "And I've got plenty of room for more." Just to add a bit more color, he paints the fin of his helmet blue, and adds a little target onto each side of his helmet. "I'm Droidbait, after all," he tells Echo. "I draw them in as a target, but then… I get to add to my tallies."

Echo barks out a laugh. "Bold, 'Bait. I like it. And fortunately for you, with what's coming I think you'll fill up that armor pretty quickly."

Which isn't a good thing, but Droidbait grins anyway.

"Aw, kriff," Cutup complains. "Now I'm the only one left." Hevy's still working on his flames (he's moved onto his gauntlets now), and Fives is finishing up his eel.

"You don't have to paint it right now, you know," Echo tells him. "We've got time. Maybe you'll be inspired after we get deployed."

Cutup frowns. "You're not wrong. I just… nothing seems right, you know? Not yet."

"I do," Echo says. "It's not a big deal. Plenty of brothers wait to customize. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, okay," Cutup agrees softly. He does, eventually, paint his shoulders with four dots in a square formation, and one more dot in the center—a five, on a die. Or, a five on a domino. He also paints a single blue stripe down the center of his chest, stopping just above his stomach. His helmet, he leaves completely blank. It's just enough to make him recognizable, but small enough that he can safely add to it later when he wants to.

"Looks good, gentleman," Echo tells them. "There's one more thing I need a hand with, though. Several hands, actually." He directs them each in dipping their left palms into paint and placing their handprints on the same spot over Echo's chest. Their fingers overlap just slightly, but Echo doesn't seem to care. Eventually he has each of Domino's hands combined to form a single handprint on his armor, and he smiles in satisfaction.

"There we go. Now, it's finished," Echo says. Fives grins and pats Echo's shoulder with his clean hand.

"You know, this paint isn't likely to come out of our gloves, you know," he says, raising his left hand pointedly. "It's meant for plastoid armor and gunships." Echo shrugs, and pointedly dips his own left palm into the paint bucket.

"It'll be our thing, then," he says. "Five of us, five fingers. Hard work ahead of us, but that's what hands are for. Blue, for the 501st. It suits us, I'd say."

Droidbait looks down at his own blue palm and feels a surge of pride.

"Yes, it does suit us," he agrees softly. He looks around the hangar, at his brothers, happy and learning and developing their own individual personalities.

He wishes it could stay like this forever, but that's not an option. Has never been an option, not for the clones.

He knows that eventually, the other shoe will drop—and it will probably happen soon.

Droidbait just hopes Domino will be ready for it.

A/N: Whoa, tons of Echo this chapter. I don't know how that happened, but I'm not apologizing.

I actually meant for the second half of this chapter to be Domino's first battle as part of the 501st, but then the sparring scene happened, and I was having way too much fun messing around with the Teth survivors, so that didn't happen. Whoops. Sorry! I hope it didn't bore you… I thought about adding a slow burn warning, but this story ISN'T slow burn, I've just had an intense desire to see these boys happy before I throw them back into the fire, so these two most recent chapters happened. Next chapter for sure exciting stuff will start to happen. Patience, my friends. The storm fast approaches. Eventually, you might even prefer these happy chapters. This is a war story, after all... it's gonna get rough.

Just a quick point—Zeer isn't actually that much bigger than the rest of the clones. But when you're used to everyone having exactly the same body type, someone a couple inches taller and broader would seem like a giant. Y'all get me? He's bigger, yes, but not ridiculously big. He does work out a lot, though.