To Kiba, Onsei had never seemed to work in mysterious ways. Everything it ever told him to do had always appeared straightforward when it came to why Onsei wanted it to happen. And when something seemed nebulous, Kiba knew that eventually everything would be cleared up- so there was no need to figure out any mystery because everything would eventually be revealed.

When he had first gone up into the air ducts to escape the overcrowded loneliness of being in a new place, surrounded by people that seemed like those he had gotten to really get along with but weren't, he had mostly done so because hiding up in a private place that granted him a great view view of the goings on around the ship had seemed like a smart thing to do. Onsei hadn't told him to go up, necessarily, but it hadn't dissuaded him either.

When it came to interacting with Sinker, Onsei hadn't really prodded or insisted. But it had allowed Kiba to know how happy it is as to see their interaction; goaded Kiba to keep it up.

Eventually, Kiba had come to understand why Sinker out of all the members of the 104th Battalion.

Sergeant Sinker was the tech wiz among the Wolfpack. Not only was he able to slice his way through heaps of security features to be able to get at footage from clone trooper helmets without raising a single alarm, but he was also able to help Kiba customize a helmet of his own.

"Repeat after me." dark eyes sparkled with mirth as Sinker had to battle to keep a smile from breaking through what he probably wanted to be a serious face.

Kiba was more than aware of the giggles the man was fighting back, though, so he prodded in as much good humor with, "Repeat after me."

The cracked facade that had been Sinker's look of severity properly broke at this; a warm look of enjoyment and amusement melted onto his face as he shook his head and turned around to grab the helmet he had kept hidden behind his body. Kiba tried to lean to the side and catch a glimpse of what they both knew was a helmet, only to find that Sinker caught onto him very fast and leaned his own body in the same direction to block his view.

"Oh, c'mon, Sinker!" Kiba groaned as he took one step back, only to find that he bumped into one of the various pieces of technological contraptions that lined the wall.

He righted himself quickly and moved forward, looking behind himself to make sure that he hadn't caused anything to fall over. The wall was about as messily organized as it had been when he had followed Sinker into the cramped supply closet- Sinker's second-favorite hiding place in the whole ship.

Apparently, even if this was a nice place to hang around to be able to tinker in, he still preferred the vast air-duct system for whenever he wanted to be away from the vod'e but still remain near to the action. He had different little nooks and crannies carved out for himself and select few vod'e to be able to hide away in should it be necessary- but this closet and the vents were for him alone.

And, well, Kiba now too.

"You're the first natborn that's ever earned himself a bucket, kid." the chuckle in Sinker's voice was obvious even when he tried to tamper it. "This deserves what little pomp and circumstance I can give." at saying this, his words took on a more sobered quality, but it was soon gone when the trooper turned fully back around and lifted up the helmet he had customized just for him.

And Kiba felt his throat tighten when he was able to see that the customization Sinker had done hadn't been limited to the technological aspect that made this piece of armor so inaccessible to any that hadn't been educated like the clone troopers had... he'd taken the time to paint two fang shaped triangles below the visor, carefully making them looked as curved as Kiba's own did even with the angular design of the helmet.

He didn't have any words.

How could he when this was something that he never would have expected? Never in a million years!

"Hope you don't mind I used Wolfpack color to paint the fangs- we don't exactly have any 501st blue laying around." Sinker let out a soft, almost awkward chuckle before he pushed the helmet towards Kiba. "Try it on. I'd like to make sure it won't fly off your small head in the middle of a battlefield."

It was a light-hearted jab to get Kiba to react. Kiba knew this because it was the exact kind of thing he'd hear one of his fellow Inuzuka comment on; an observation that could be barbed just to get a rise out of someone. In the context, all that managed to do was make Kiba feel even more at a loss for words. Sinker had said that to try and get him to talk, hadn't he?

Even if he didn't have any words, though, Kiba moved quickly to grab the helmet from Sinker's hands. He grabbed onto the piece of plastoid with a bit more strength than was necessary, but he needed to make sure his grip was good and sturdy so there was no chance it would fall to the floor.

The first thing was pull the helmet towards himself, eyes locked onto the reflective material of the visor... he could see his own reflection on it. His eyes were wide with disbelief; if Kurenai sensei saw him right now, she'd undoubtedly be scolding him for showing so much emotion when in the company of someone that wasn't his pack.

He blinked his eyes quickly and tried to regain some control of his face, but still did as told and fit the helmet over his head.

It was uncomfortable, to be perfectly honest. The fit was incredibly tight, his field of vision became so narrowed it was almost debilitating, and the veneer of slight opacity that shrouded the world was going to take some getting used to. But he could breathe fine enough inside of the thing, even he could make out even less scents because of the filter that was built into the thing- Sinker had tampered with it as best he could already, unfortunately.

He heard a rustle, filtered through mechanics, and was able to catch the beginnings of a sudden movement on his periphery- his body moved just as quickly as Sinker had to avoid the blow that seemed to come from nowhere.

For just a moment, Kiba wondered if Sinker had finally snapped and was taking all of his aggression out on him. But then the last thing the trooper had said began to clatter around in his mind- even if he hadn't said as much, Sinker was forcing him to test out just how viable it would be for him to wear this in battle.

The more he got to interact with these men, the more amazed Kiba was to find so many similarities between them and his clan.

Instead of asking for any clarification, Kiba did the most Inuzuka thing he could and offered a swipe of his own back- forcing Sinker to jump back from himself to avoid the blow. And he took advantage of the distance, no matter how small, to turn tail, open up the door, and goad Sinker into chasing him around the ship- if he wanted to test out if this helmet was actually something Kiba could wear out in the battlefield, then a stuffy supply closet wasn't big enough.

"Just so you know, kid, I've got a bounty out on your head." the comm crackled with Sinker's chuckle and it sounded far too sinister for Kiba's comfort. "Whole battalion knows we're field testing your new gear."

The message that popped up on the right side of his field of vision was written in galactic standard, which was just a little annoying because reading that kind of script had never been particularly easy for him. But he was able to take a small break from his crawl through unexplored sections of the vent system, seeing how he hadn't seen hide or hair of any trooper in a good while.

The act of breathing while wearing the helmet on had become just a little easier now that he had been wearing it for... well, a while. He wasn't sure how long, to be honest.

Time really flew by when he was having fun.

It took him a few heartbeats and having to really rattle his brain to try and remember some of the lessons he had been taught all the way back in the Academy, but eventually he was able to more or less read the text that had popped up- and he wasn't even able to properly celebrate that accomplishment because he was very sure that he had translated it correctly. And this message was... really something.

It was the message that Sinker had sent out to the whole of the 104th. Short as it may have been, it allowed Kiba to know that the trooper had not been exaggerating with what he had relayed over the vocal comm. If anything, he had given Kiba more info through voice than what had been written down.

Wanted: Not-Commander Inuzuka. Reward: You know.

Was it common for clone troopers to hunt each other down like this? Because the fact that Sinker had gone down this road with seemingly no fear of repercussions... when Kiba had aided the 501st in hunting down his mother, he had noticed that they moved with expert ease, but he had chalked that up to the military training they undoubtedly underwent to prepare for war. But... could there be something more? Did these guys hunt each other down or something for sport?

Kiba tried to wrack his brain and see if it could remind him of the instructions Sinker had given him for utilizing the simplified controls of the helmet, but found that he could only truly remember how to zoom in on the recording software Sinker had added... when it came to the other things he was supposed to be able to do, his mind was coming up empty.

With a huff, Kiba heard a muffled clang coming from behind him. It echoed along the vent, and he tensed his body in order to prepare in case he needed to bolt.

"Smoke him out, boys!" the audio wasn't particularly crisp, but Kiba was able to make out the energetic voice of a trooper that was undoubtedly well aware of the prize he would receive should he catch Kiba, even if Kiba himself was in the dark about it. He began to move just in time to hear a whooping, "The kid ain't escaping us!"

A spike of adrenaline bolted straight through him when he heard a sound he knew far too well- the pressurized hiss of a canister of gas quickly unleashing its contents.

He began to move as if his life depended on it because the last thing he needed was to find out how serious these boys were about capturing him through the kind of chemical components they were willing to utilize to smoke him out of the vents.

The fact that this was a non-lethal exercise meant that Kiba could rejoice in the pounding of his heart and the buzz being chased elicited in his soul. But, for just a moment, he had allowed himself to marvel at how the very techniques the troopers were utilizing to nail him down could be used to lethally end him and that had been terrifying.

This truly was an army worthy of being recognized.

When heavy footfalls began to flood into the hangar, Kiba knew that what little rest time he had been given was coming to an end. And from his hiding spot beneath one of the quick-flying ships made for fast and sudden attacks, rather than long and drawn-out ones, he was able to see the group of troopers that had been able to track his location down.

If not for the fact that it had taken them a while, Kiba would have begun to wonder if Sinker had put some kind of tracking chip in the helmet and was just playing tricks on him.

"Fan out, boys." he could recognize this whooping voice- it was Sinker that was calling the shots. "If the kid's in here, we're not letting him leave."

These guys weren't just good at hunting, they were also good at choking prey down. The vents were inaccessible now because of the gas that had been utilized to smoke him out- nothing deadly, but with some kind of spiced component that it scratched Kiba's throat with the promise of making him cough and give his position away. And there really weren't that many good hiding places on a ship made to transport troops outside of a few large spaces, like the hangar.

Coupled with the fact that Kiba's primary objective was still supposed to be to not get caught by the general and he had no idea as to where that person could be, Kiba was slowly but surely losing ground in this game of cat and mouse.

He really didn't see much of a way to getting out unscathed; he was going to get caught at some point or another.

That didn't mean that he was going to make it easy for the troopers, though.

Kiba knew that he didn't have to slow his breathing to not be heard- one of the functions of the helmet was to apparently suppress any noise that came from the wearer as long as he wasn't actively trying to communicate with someone else. He still found himself doing so after years of being taught to do it to avoid getting caught by enemies.

He saw feet begin to move around his ship and tightened his body into a coil, just waiting for the right moment to bolt.

He could see that this wasn't the only ship that was beginning to get surrounded- could tell that this was part of the full sweep they were doing because other ships of this kind were getting the same treatment. It only made sense, these were the only ships with a big enough gap beneath their kind to fit as a good hiding place for him.

It was only a matter of-

Kiba's eyes went wide when he watched a metallic canister roll in to the bottom of the ship, only to stop short a few centimeters from his waist. He heard the way that the soft clink of metal against metal echoed quietly along the hangar, letting him know that this wasn't the only ship to have received such treatment.

When the hissing of air started, Kiba knew that his time was up. He glanced around the ship, only to find that the men that had fanned out around the ship had set up a perfectly proportioned perimeter where there wasn't a direction that he could escape through without getting seen.

Kiba heard Onsei trill with excitement, undoubtedly on the troopers' side instead of his.

With a huff, he decided that if there was no best way, then he'd just have to make one for himself. So he crawled forward, towards the feet closest to him, and breathed in deeply. He focused his chakra, felt it swirl in his stomach before he willed it to accumulate at the tips of his hands and feet. And after he felt a small moment of peace wash over him, he propelled himself forward to crash his shoulders against the ankles of the trooper right in front of him.

Even though he was wearing shoulder pauldrons, he could feel the harsh impact between his shoulders and the armor surrounding the ankles he had aimed for; felt the clatter of his teeth and the shock that reverberated through his body. But he pushed through, his body not just built for this kind of impact, but honed to survive and thrive after years of training and infinite crashes.

He moved fast to curl his body up and propel himself forward on all four limbs, only just barely hearing the sound of armor crashing and clacking against the ground behind him.

He heard the shot just in time to be able to avoid it- the trigger was pulled almost as soon as he had managed to get his bearings about him and actually be capable of movement.

"Make it rain, boys!"

This time it wasn't Sinker's voice to speak up. Kiba didn't know any of the troopers here as well as he had gotten to know the 501st, so he wasn't able to pinpoint any particular person. But he could tell from the frenzied joy of the voice that this was someone more like Hardcase than Sinker- a brother that enjoyed fighting as much as an Inuzuka did.

The cacophonous onslaught of triggers being pulled and non-lethal shots being fired from blaster barrels was only partially muffled by the sound-dampening technology of the helmet he wore. It wasn't exactly like the song of battle, but it was close enough.

Kiba did his best to dodge and weave his way through the blaster fire, and moved as close as he could to the nearest bodies to try and simultaneously throw the men's aim while taking someone else out.

Quite frankly, he didn't last as long as he probably could have if he had had Akamaru by his side.

The buzzing currently running through his body wasn't particularly comfortable. He felt like he had managed to get in the middle of Kakashi sensei's lightning based jutsu, just a little bit more numb than on fire than the time when that had actually happened so many years ago. It felt like there was just the faintest amount of energy running through him, the external kind that had no place inside of him.

"And that's when you use one of these," a metallic canister, far more technical and compact than any of the others Kiba had seen wielded by the troopers, was produced by the long haired Comet, "One of these'll cause a small electric chain that'll immobilize any clanker in its radius. It'sstandard in our kit."

Kiba blinked at the harsh face of a trooper that seemed to share an easy-going personality with Sinker, rather than Wolffe's harsh, cold one. He recognized this tone of voice... but he still hadn't managed to pinpoint where he'd heard if, even though he'd been on the receiving end of a strategy speech ever since he had woken up from the stupor caused by getting shot with what he now knew where called stun-rounds.

"You know how those 501st boys can be, vod." Sinker's voice was filled with an expected elation, coming from Kiba's right. "I'd bet all my credits they forgot to properly balance out the kid's kit."

Comet's sharp eyes narrowed into a mean look, then he was huffing, "I'd bet it's all explosives and bacta-packs.", as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Kiba watched Comet for a moment longer before he was looking at Sinker. To his right, with an easy smile playing on his lips, Sinker seemed to be incredibly pleased with himself over the chaos he had caused within the large cruiser for a good three hours. To be honest, Kiba was a little disappointed he hadn't managed to evade capture longer than that. But he was happy enough to know that the men seemed a lot more relaxed around him than they had been prior to the whole event.

All along the mess, easy conversations were taking place between the brothers that had gone ahead and decided to get a bite after the chase they had taken part in. Kiba could tell that the numbers weren't particularly high, especially compared to the all the troops that had chased after his mother when they had done something similar with the 501st boys. But there were quite a few of them.

More than six had already stopped by to pat his back and promise a more exciting chase next time as long as Kiba promised to not hold back on them.

"The 501st's not that bad." as he spoke, his tongue felt heavier than usual.

There was a lag between what his eyes were seeing and what his brain understood. That's why by the time he understood that Sinker's face had broken out into a fully amused, sardonic smirk, he was already hearing the trooper let him know that the 501st was composed of some of the most feral, unpredictable, and unorthodox brothers in the whole of the GAR.

Comet simply huffed, "They eat bugs."

And... that wasn't nearly as bad as Kiba would have expected.

"Good protein, though."

Sinker's face became something of faintly amused horror before Kiba felt a gloved hand, warm and reassuring, start patting at the top of his head with soft, non-violent motions.

"There, there, Not-Commander Inuzuka. The Wolf Pack'll teach you the right way." Sinker's voice wasn't condescending or sardonic. His scent was bursting with pops of fresh joy; Kiba could hear Onsei sighing and humming in nothing short of contentment. "And the first lesson'll be all about how the 501st's got nothing on us. Right, Comet?"

Kiba turned to look at the long-haired trooper sat across from him right in time to see him nod with a soft smile clear on his thick lips.

And it was then that he truly noticed that he was seated in the mess hall, sat at a table with two troopers, sharing a meal while plenty other brothers sat and talked all around them.

He wasn't stuck inside the ventilation system, hiding away with only Sinker as a companion. He wasn't trapped inside of Commander Wolffe's quarters because he couldn't get caught by General Plo Koon and needed to make sure to lay low.

He wasn't alone.

Something that he hadn't even known had become tightly wound inside of him began to relax at this realization and Kiba found it easy to sink into his seat on the bench beside Sinker.

Part of him felt useless.

That was the combat-loving Inuzuka side of him that believed that there was no such thing as a good reason to ever back down from an important fight.

The kinder, much more rational, part of himself simply reminded him that he had been sent on this mission for two major reasons: The General couldn't be allowed to catch sight of him and Sinker needed someone to handle this delivery and there was no better courier than a non-brother to handle this kind of job.

He wasn't sure what planet they were on, even if he had been quick to figure out that this a planet where some enemy was trying to take over. It was a nice change of pace from the never-ending darkness of space, granted. An even greater change after the oppressing influence of dark forces on Umbara.

Kiba had to fight back a shiver at the very memory of that planet's name; Onsei prickled in obvious displeasure.

This planet wasn't opaque nothingness and cold cruelty; it was warm, sunny, and Onsei didn't seem nearly as sick. It wasn't happy, he could tell, but it was doing a hell of a lot better than it had back on Umbara. The plant life was foreign to him, exotic, even, but alive. There was no evil intent from the life around him, either. It was just content to be.

Nothing like Konoha, but he wasn't about to complain.

From his spot hidden behind a particularly thick trunk, Kiba could hear the faintest sound of an ongoing battle, far in the horizon.

All around him was peacefully still.

Safe.

With a sigh, Kiba checked the time at the edge of his vision- the person in charge of the trade was late.

Onsei reminded him that there was nothing wrong with having to train his patience, but he couldn't help but feel the worst kind of buzz appear in his chest; the buzz of needing to do something when he was supposed to be waiting.

He hated having to wait.

He flexed and unflexed his fingers as he tried his best to wait for the person that was supposed to be coming in with a pack he'd trade with the one he had left beneath the overturned wooden cart, just like Sinker had instructed him... and growled when the minute ticked to change and let him know the person was even later than they had been before.

There was nothing better to do and he hated having to wait.

What better way to pass the time than by doing something semi-productive?

He may not be able to help the troopers fight whatever it was that they were fighting but... Kiba dropped down onto his knees and pulled out the data-pad Sinker hadn't taken back from him. Onsei had mentioned it might be a good idea to bring it along- now he could see why it had said as much.

The very least he could do was move his plan for getting clone trooper recognition along.

~/~

"I'm not gonna bother with putting it on stun if I've got to shoot again."

Fact of the matter was that he had no idea how to do that; he should probably ask Sinker how he was supposed to turn on that feature if he was supposed to be carrying a blaster like this around on these kinds of non-official missions.

The humanoid person was dressed in tough clothes that had undoubtedly seen better days; they were still frozen after Kiba had shot a lethal round that had just barely missed their foot. Their face was covered with some heavy goggles and some kind of breathing apparatus that completely dashed away any possibility for Kiba being able to visually identify what kind of species they may have been.

Their surprise, though, was not hidden from him. Onsei shuddered with it; their whole body tightened with it, rather than with a need to defend themself.

"Shouldn't be stealing from the boys on the frontlines, you know." the helmet crackled in a way that made Kiba feel just slightly off- he didn't sound like himself because of the way the helmet affected his voice.

He heard some kind of exclamation in a language he couldn't pinpoint, then the being was speaking with a thick accent he was sure Hana would have been able to pinpoint, "Don't shoot. I'm sorry."

Greed was inextricable from existence. He'd heard his mother say this a few times, when she'd probably thought he hadn't been paying attention and she'd been busy with handling some severe political issues within Konoha and the clans she had to work with. Kuromaru had told him she'd learned that from her own teacher.

Kiba had never understood greed in the way that phrase undoubtedly referenced.

But he understood hunger; he knew the fear of not being sure how safe his surroundings could be; had been on enough missions in the middle of enemy territory to understand why someone would try to keep their delivery as well as the payment when they thought there was no one around to stop them.

He didn't speak again, simply motioned with the tip of his blaster for the person to grab the pack with their payment.

They didn't turn their back on him until they were well away from him.

Bacta was a sharp, artificial scent that almost reminded him of mint, just sharper and less organic.

With his helmet tucked safely under his left arm, Kiba showed off the pack he had successfully managed to smuggle back inside of the ship before it had taken off without him. It hadn't been nearly as difficult as it should have been, in retrospect, because this vent system was easy to take advantage of- something that he really hoped the GAR was aware of.

The boys in the med bay all let out as much a cheer as their conditions allowed them; he didn't miss the way in which Sinker ordered him to come to his side even amidst those cheers.

Kiba had always hated having to visit the hospital back home; so much so that he had earned himself a reputation for needing to be hunted down by multiple clan members to be dragged unconscious to get his vaccines done. The smell of chemicals and sickness in these spaces had always settled deep into his soul and made him uncomfortable; made his skin crawl and his very essence itch for escape.

As he pushed forward and forced himself to ignore the need to turn around and bolt out of the med-bay, Kiba could hear Onsei cheering for him from beside each and every trooper that was laid out watching him.

Sinker had gotten injured in the fighting that had taken place. Comet was fine and well, just like Wolffe, but the first member of the Wolf Pack that he had gotten to know was supposed to be relegated to bed rest for at least the next two rotations.

Part of him was seething that he hadn't been around to watch Sinker's back and help him avoid the blast that had lurched joints enough to warrant a stay in the med-bay. The other part knew that he had needed to go on his own mission and it was good that he had succeeded, because now Sinker had more contraband to trade in.

When he reached the cot that Sinker had been confined to, it was to find the man with a broad smile and a patch of bacta on his forehead. Without any real introductions, he jumped straight in to telling him, "I've got some real great footage for you, kid. Sit down."

And the med-bay was filled with enough brothers that, for just a moment, Kiba wondered if it would be prudent.

But then he heard Onsei murmur to him that this was right where he needed to be and he sighed softly before pulling off the heavy pack full of contraband they all knew none of them should have been handling.

He really hoped there were some more of those candies Sinker had given him the first time they had met in this pack.