@crownedveil
𝚃𝙸𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙰 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙰 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝚃𝙴, sterile uniformity. Here the clones learned to march in step, to become part of one seamless, moving whole working toward the betterment of the Republic. Those who could not step into the flow tended to stand out – such as a lone padawan in a dark brown robe.
Shaak Ti approached them at the viewport that overlooked one of their academies. In the room below, young clones worked at their studies in rows, each one sat at rapt attention. Not a one of them was older than five years of age, but they could have matched the padawan in height and demeanor.
“A far cry from the Temple’s classes,” she remarked, after a moment of quiet observation. She could not rightly say what method was better, and in the end, her opinion counted for very little; their training was a matter of standards set by the Senate, and means outlined by the Kaminoans. Shaak Ti could only do as she had always done since her arrival: watch. And watch she did, until her eyes slid to the youngling beside her.
“You are Master Plo Koon’s apprentice, yes?”















