“Wider.”

 Krell gently tapped the inside of his Padawans knee with a training staff. Sofiti obliged with a cringey face and shifted her foot in obvious discomfort, completing the kata her Master had created. It was obvious that Krells katas had improved her mobility by a tenfold than the standard katas taught to younglings in the temples. Sofiti never knew where to put her extra arms beforehand, so half the time they ended up hovering awkwardly.

 Meanwhile Quinn and a handful of troopers observed the Jedi and his Padawan from the outskirts of their small camp. It had been a month now since the little girl had become an addition to their Batallion and it was still odd. Especially from far away, the size difference between the muscular Besalisk and the underage Klint looked beyond ridiculous. He scratched his stubbled jaw in thought, when he felt a bump on his shoulder plate and turned to look at Wampa. The purple haired Trooper extended one of the numerous cups he was holding to him.

 He smiled at Quinn’s questioning face, “It’s caff, Lieutenant.”

 Said accepted with a scoff, “Don’t emphasise my rank every time.”

 “Hey accomplishments need to be celebrated.” Wampa shrugged, then offered another cup to the vod sitting to Quinn’s right, with a cheeky grin , “Some caff, Commander Caff?”

 The vod in question had thick, grey hair and some of the darkest amber eyes amongst them. He turned slowly, raising an eyebrow and sporting his deadliest Pokerface.

 Wampa was never good at knowing his limits, he was an expert at making things awkward. So he waggled his own eyebrows and asked again “Caff, Caff?”

 It took a solid minute of awkward silence before Wampa broke under the Commanders unimpressed glare and looked for a distraction. “Oh look. The Fluffball approacheth.”

 Quinn and Caff both turned their eyes ahead, to find that the Jedi Master had dismissed his pupil, who was now stalking towards them awkwardly and with the expression of discomfort plastered onto her face.

 “Are you alright, sir?” Wampa bellowed towards her. She waved her hands and stalked the last few feet through the grassland. Quinn noted that her fur looked damp and grimy and her big eyes were half closed. She looked tired. Unsurprisingly. General Krell had an energy that had grown vods struggle to keep up with him. They had been traveling the planet for the last three days before finally reaching their camp site. A trek that had left shinys wheezing and still, Krell insisted on his Padawan completing her katas.

 “Where’s the General?” Caff asked gruffly, scouting the empty meadow over her head.

 “He wants to map out the area”, Sofiti yawned, “For strategy.”

 The commander grunted, shifted his thigh guard and motioned for the Padawan to come over. When she was close enough, he opened his arms, picked her up and sat her down on his lap. She sighed and immediately started kneading her foot guards. Quinn frowned.

“What is it, sir?”

 Sofiti looked up at him, blinking owlishly and retracting all four of her hands from her feet when Caff shooed them off with his own.

 “Oh … ahm, I’m just not that used to walking this much. The temple doesn’t value cardio that much I guess.” She snickered at them smiling brightly, but tired. Quinn slurped carefully on his caff, smiling back over his cup.

 Caff grumbled something about not walking at all while undoing the strong clasps on her guards and carefully unwrapping them. Quinn didn’t have much time to think of anything to say because Wampa immediately struck up a conversation about dinner with her. Little things could get the vod and Padawan duo as excited as the prospect of food.

 They were only interrupted by the pityful mewl Sofiti let out when Caff got rid of both of the foot guards. Quinn and Wampa watched in awe when the Klint stretched what they had assumed were the small aliens feet, into four long fingers that resembled her hands more than feet. They watched their Commander pick up her thick ankles with a hiss and a care that they’d never ever seen him express this openly. He pulled out a cooling wrap from his belt and carefully layered it around her swollen feet.

 Finally he tapped her nose to make her look up.

 “Next time” he said slowly, “when they start to hurt you. You climb on Quinn’s shoulder pad.”

 Quinn choked into his cup, “Why my shoulder pad?!”

 The commander turned with his patented pokerface and glared at him.

“I don’t mind carrying her”, Wampa intersected.

 Caff gave him an uncomfortable up and down glare, “You just drank 3 cups of caff by yourself, boy.”

 The vod looked at his hands in utter puzzlement, like he had completely forgotten he had still been holding three formerly full cups. Caff continued as Sofiti started to nod off from exhaustion against his chest plate.

 “When I said your new position includes assisting the Commander I wasn’t talking about myself. I don’t need a Lieutenant, soldier, I’ve been leading this Batallion pretty darn good for a while now. I need you to take care of this commander.”

 Quinn frowned, trying to process this development, even as Caff carefully stood up and placed the dozing klint on the others lap. He gave a curt nod before striding off to where Krell was emerging from the tree line, bucket in hand and stone faced. The Lieutenant blinked, first at the receding shape of his commanding Officer, then back to the small Jedi in his arms, whom Wampa had taken to carefully pet.

 When he noticed Quinn looking at him he shot him a sly grin. “Congratulations on the promotion, sir.” That provoked a soft snarl that the soldier heartily chuckled at, before turning his attention back to petting Sofitis bangs. 

“She’s so sooooft” he whispered in utter glee, prompting Quinn to run his thumb over the fur on her arms.

SO I always wondered about Pong Krell (you know the asshole frog from the Umbara Arc). He was clearly a renowned Jedi and General, even with his reputation that he goes through batallions like a teen through tissues.

But I always wondered, did Krell just jump around and waste others batallions or did he have his own Legion? And did he have a Padawan? And how did said people feel about him. 

Krell was all about furthering his own legacy and success and when the Council suggested he take on a Padawan, he accepted only under the condition that he take on a four armed youngling, to preserve his techniques. Sofiti, a Klint (made-up four armed monkey/lemur race) from a Jungle Planet was the only multi armed youngling in the creche at the time so he took her on right before the beginning of the clone wars, at the age of roughly 10 standard years. The fluffy Klint is quite small, shy and polite, but also attentive, eager and disciplined. Her kind hardly grows to be as big as a regular human, so she was obviously not Krells preferred specimen, but she has proven herself to be a dedicated student for his four armed lightsaber techniques. Despite studying under Krell she doesn’t use double bladed (yet) but rather regular dual wield. She is proficient in swapping between hands fast.

I figured his troops wouldn’t have been overly fond but rather increasingly professional. Especially considering Krell was a front line General, they probably had a large influx of Shinies on the regular to make up for the sheer quantity of losses they have on the Regular. Initially they didn’t even have Battallion paint, because it just wasn’t worth it. Quinn is the 3rd Commander the Battallion has had in the first 2 years of the clone wars. He used to be an Arc Trooper and is part of the longest surviving core group of clones that have survived Krells command thus far. Thus he and those other Troopers have also been with Sofiti since the beginning and were also the first to decide to paint their armor in the color of her fur and stripes. Her race, albeit efficient and quick, is not very good at walking as they live primarily in trees. Thus she likes to climb up on clones, especially ARC shoulder pads, they’re her favorite perch.

The clones love their tiny monkey Commander, their only light at the end of a long campaign. Krell largely ignores the obvious affection, so long as everyone does as he says, which clones are more likely to when his padawan is present as he has come to notice. When Krell is ordered to Umbara, he and the 403rd are on a reconnaissance mission on a muddy Jungle Planet. He decides to leave his Padawan with the Battallion, unde the guise of not wanting to take her to an urgent front line battlezone. Truthfully he knows that they are more likely to listen to the Padawan and she listens to his orders unquestioningly. 

“Commander!”

The sergeant shifted, waiting for an answer. He craned his neck, inspecting the far away branches of a Mammoth tree in search for his, naturally, perfectly camouflaged jedi commander. His fingers restlessly drummed against the bucket under his arm, the one with two, four fingered hand prints smack on the dome. One on either side of the fin. He thought he remembered the bubbly giggle the commander had made with her hands dipped in paint, when a rustling above his head accompanied the noise.

He bent his neck as far as the plastoid armour would let him, spotting a wide, toothy grin in between burgundy leaves.

“Nooo, turn back around you can’t find me yet. I have to throw these Mak-nuts at you.”

He snorted, “You have to stop laughing if you want to sneak up on me, sir.”

The padawan sighed before proceeding to make her way down the branches.

“Adept observation, Sergeant Wampa”, she muttered as she landed smoothly by his feet, offering some of the alleged assault munition in the palm of one of her quadrodextrous hand.

They were horrendously sour, her favourite. He should have known better.

“Found anything on your scouting trip, sir?” he groaned around the snack before deciding that swallowing would be more merciful and added “Outside of these.”

“A whole lot of nothing” Sofiti replied, looking through the forest as if she could spot something miles away, not before sparing a knowing smirk for him. “A small crew of Klint but they were already heading to the nearest safe-point.”

Her small nose scrunched up as her teeth ground down on a particularly hard piece of nut. The sergeant remembered the entire Battalion’s fascination with the locals as they touched down several weeks ago. Every clone had encountered Twileks, humans and various other species meddling in the Galaxy by now, but the Klint inhabited such a small moon on the very edge of the Outer Rim, that their kind rarely made their way to the heart of the Republic. And how often do you get to compare your commander to their own people, and possibly tease them about the off color of their hair or how particularly small they were, even compared to their peers within a race that reached 1.7 meters tops.

Wampa chuckled heartily, and a little achingly at that before gently bumping his bucket against her head.

“You should rest until Master Tui returns, sir. You need to be in top shape before we commence the offense against the seperatists.”

Sofiti mumbled a response, and turned slowly before she trotted along after him, back to the tents. The sergeant could see Caff and Foxtrot in a push up competition all the way from a standard yard away. He motioned for the commander but she seemed distracted. Usually she would pounce at a competition with either of the hyperactive vods, now, her little face was still scrunched up.

“Is everything alright sir?”

Big yellow eyes flickered worriedly at him before a slight nod.

“Just a weird feeling, Wampa.”

She halted abruptly, turning towards the edge of the forest again. “I can’t really pin it down. I hope they haven’t begun the attack on the civilians yet.”

Grumbling she threw the last of her snack in her mouth and decimated them noisily, muttering to herself.

“I have to ask Master Tui again whether she’d be willing to help me meditate. I’m lacking.”

Wampa nodded in acknowledgement, but Sofiti was still staring off into the distance. He figured that between being dropped on her homeplanet on top of the loss of her master, mere months ago, and possibly the loss of her Jedi status, the only thing she had ever known, a kid was allowed to be a bit gloomy about things.

The sergeant wasn’t too worried about her Jedi status though. He had interviewed Master Tui thoroughly when he had been given the chance - and explicit order - by Quinn, and even if he still wasn’t quite sure he fully understood how the Jedi order worked, he was more than sure their little Commander would find another Master before the ‘cutoff age’. After all she still had a whole year left and her particular fighting style made her a promising candidate for knighthood, that was as far as Master Tui had re-assured him.

He almost didn’t notice his CO stepping up to their spot, up until Quinn brushed past him, bucket firmly on and just tucking away a mobile holo comm. Wampa watched with the same casual ambivalence with which he had just been considering to dedicate a pouch on his belt to Mak-nuts, as Quinn stopped just next to the commander.

He observed in silent approval as his vod tapped the little [Traitor] on the shoulder with his Blaster, gently placing it between her eyes and pulled the trigger.

Objectively, Quinn could have just shot [the traitor] from behind. That would have been much more effective. But in the end it happened so fast he could have almost missed the brief moment of devastation in the [traitors] big eyes.

He blinked when Quinn rapped his knuckles on his chest plate.

“Prepare for the offense, we have to close in on [traitor] Tui.”

Wampa nodded and jogged the last few meters to the camp, where the other vods had stopped to see what the blaster shot was about. He was met with annoyed faces, some more irritated than others and Foxtrot looked a little angry.

Understandable.

When lifting his bucket to put it on his head his eyes stopped on the purple handprints. A part of him thought he’d have to scratch them off when he had the chance to. He never turned around to look at the purple heap in the teal grass again.

Later that night he’d find Quinn standing there, looking lost.

Well, Sofiti does in fact generally follow Krells orders to the T. She is after all barely the height of her Masters Beltbuckle and also only a shy eleven year old who is quite hearing to authority. Considering the clones are older both in training, mental age and most of them also physically, she will accept a new plan so long as the outcome remains the same. What Krell don’t know won’t hurt his Troopers. 

As for how she feels about it, I imagine she’s not overly happy with the loss of many clones, but also chalks it up to the price of war rather than directly her Master. Considering how young she is I thought she, like Ahsoka, was brought up as a war-time-Padawan, unlike for example Obi-Wans generation. 

((*DISCLAIMER* this is entirely a headcanon of mine, but I think Padawans during war time have a vastly different experience than ‘regular’ Jedi had. Sure Obi and co had their adventures as well, but fight scenarios and war torn worlds were the exceptions and padawans were certainly not commanding soldiers. For this generation of younglings, there’s no real question as to whether your next mission will involve war, the entire Galaxy is at war, most missions involve battle. So I believe that Padawans are also being prepped differently, as in they get more extensive training in strategies, Technology and combat than for example meditation or history. ANYWAYS))

I like to think that waaay in the beginning there were a few coop missions specifically with Kit Fisto, on a water based mission, as Krell is somewhat amphibious (??). Sofitis fur definitely took at least a day to dry, she most probably was overly floofy for at least a week and she needed a lot of shampoo to get the soggy smell out of herself. Maybe a mission with Yoda where both of them can bounce all over the place and ride on the backs of Clones. Later on canonically I think Jedi became quite thin spread and I see Krell more as a Ground General than a fleet Commander, so he would not have had a lot of opportunity to cooperate.

Since Krell keeps himself and, half the time, his commander in the rear, Sofiti would as well. She makes a good Scout though and will sometimes detach with a core team of jet-packed Troopers (specifically on terrain that allows for sneak, airborne or otherwise lifted attacks i.e. canyons, forests or jungles) to do either scouting, or be part of an ambush. This Team is the ARC Team Quinn originated from before he became Commander. Her job is to deflect for the Team as they fire at the enemy from above. 

I actually found some old sketches of said in my PSD file so here’s those:

AND LASTLY, since the clones, like Sofiti were likely introduced to Krell as their first Jedi General, I think they might be likely to focus their frustration largely on the Jedi Order itself. The older the clones the more likely they are probably to have seen other Jedi and have exchanged experiences with other Soldiers from different Battallions. They would be questioning on the one hand how any of this unscrupulous fighting equals *peacekeeping*, and what kind of cult exactly justifies sending a kid into a war zone. Sofiti believes in the Jedi as Peacekeepers, and re-assures them that the Council and her Master want nothing more than for this war to be over, and that they fight to defend freedom, including theirs. And then she’ll go off on tangents about how she wants to be like her idols Master Plo Koon and Master Kenobi when she grows up, a true Negotiator and serene keeper of the peace. 

And how can you argue that as a grown ass twelve year old.

I hope that answers everything, thank you for your interest anon this was super fun aah. I think that was my first ask about Ocs haha >v<