"Listen up!" Rex barked, trying to keep a straight face. "Why am I hearing complaints about the sugar rations... again?"

Echo looked up sheepishly. "Uh, sir, just... some feedback for the kitchen."

"Oh, really?" Rex raised an eyebrow. "So what’s the 'feedback' this time?"

"Fives thinks we should switch drinks with the Wolfpack. They’ve got that bitter stuff," Echo said, nodding toward Commander Wolffe’s squad, who were grimacing at their cups. "One sip of that, and they'd hand over their sugar rations."

Fives chuckled. "That stuff’s so strong, even they can barely drink it!"

Rex frowned, trying to hide his amusement. He knew how the Wolfpack was—they’d take any drink you gave them as long as it was strong enough to knock you sideways.

"Alright, alright, cut it out," Rex said, raising his voice to address his troopers. "We’re not switching drinks with the Wolfpack – they’ve got enough on their plates without us adding to it. And sugar, Echo, is a luxury, not a necessity."

Meanwhile, Wolffe overheard the commotion, his eyebrows raising. He shot a look over at Cody, who was eyeing the 212th's perfectly organized trays with mild pride. Cody caught Wolffe’s look and gave him a small shrug.

"What?" Cody said with a smirk. "Can't help it if my men actually follow orders."

"Yeah, yeah," Wolffe grumbled, lifting his cup. "At least we’re not judged for being organized—just for drinking stuff strong enough to dissolve a droid."

Comet sniffed his cup. "You sure this won't kill us, sir?"

Wolffe shrugged. "If it does, it'll finally put some hair on your helmets."

"Comforting, Commander," Boost muttered, hesitating before taking a sip.

The mess hall was filled with chaos. Some clones pranked, causing complaints: "Stop stealing my sugar!", while the other sat quietly: "...", some casually chatting: "So-". The entire battalions are contrast. Mix of chaos and calm, all in the same room. And there you have it, a slice of life on a ship.