The Runaways

Changes

                                                                            *Same ship, 22 BBY*

The clones, as normal, were eager to express their individuality. They examined my lightsaber for ages. None of them were as immersed in it as Spitfire. He studied the pattern and the leather and the shape. He also noted color, lines, and size.

"You must like art?"

"Yes sir. I've been waiting for the day I get to customize my armor." He replied quickly. 

"What about your appearance? Have a tattoo in mind? Hair changes?" I expected Spitfire to be annoyed, maybe even slightly offed by my constant questions. But he replied simply every time, and without hesitation.

"I do want to get a tattoo sometime, but for now, I'll most likely just grow out my hair." He tinkered with his helmet. "This may be an odd question, but may I please look at the markings on your..." He trailed off.

"Head tails?"

"Yes sir." Spitfire's cheeks heated in embarrassment.

"They're called lekku." I told him, leaning my head back.

"Fascinating." He murmured to himself. I heard sketching. "Is that plural?"

"Singular is Lek." I replied.

"I see." I turned around and saw him sketching onto his helmet with a random piece of carbon-scored metal. It left faint lines on the familiar white armor. I noticed he was sticking his tongue out. A small smile tugged on the corners of my lips, which felt unfamiliar. The automatic door whooshed open and Ranahan walked in. He saw Spitfire sketching and smacked him on the back of the head.

"Quit sticking your tongue out." Spitfire rolled his eyes. "He does it when he's concentrating...especially on art."

"Stuff it, Captain." Spitfire shot back.

"I find it quite amusing." I replied, folding my arms. The rest of the Runaway force walked in and sat around each other. "When we get back to Coruscant, what are you boys gonna do?"

"We're going to 79's and getting WASTED!" Picker pointed to himself and Breezer. Breezer protested at first, but ultimately agreed.

"You two should be ashamed of yourself." Rider huffed. I liked him. He seemed slightly angry, and always laconic."I'm going to train some more." Crack-up whispered something to Ranahan.

"Crack-up, you should know better. You know that I'm the ladies' man, obviously." Ranahan pointed his thumb at him. "All you know are cheesy pick-up lines and bathroom jokes!"

"Oh come on! The refresher jokes are my best!" Crack-up insisted on telling me a few. Just before I had to listen to them, Spitfire hushed the whole group and showed them his final sketch. Despite their differences, they all seemed to like the design. A wide and mischievous smile was spread on Crack-up's face.

"General, are we allowed to paint our armor?"