Droplets of rain steadily slid down the visor of RC-00626, or has he had come to called 'Stitches'. The medic stood towards the back of the convoy as they filed off into various transport ships set for Geonosis, gazing over the sea of white helmets Stitches took an introspective moment, how many of them will survive this tour, how many will he not be able to save. This was a problem Skirata had picked up on early through Stitches training, he cared too much about his brothers and not enough about the cause, Skirata had hoped that once Tango squad was planetside he'd be hardened by battle.

Shifting through the convoy he approached 'Art' giving him a solemn nod. "I hope you're as good at defusing bombs as you are at planting them, it takes a long time to pull shrapnel out of katarn armor."