Maine hums again, thoughts drifting to the moment he saw his armor for the first time. He knew it was his; none of the other recruits were anywhere near big enough to wear it. He remembers the flash of excitement he'd kept carefully wiped from his face. Remembers sliding into the bodysuit for the first time. Remembers the way it had hugged his form like a second skin.

Unaware that his expression has shifted, gaze gone distant and features softening in fond memory, Maine brings himself out of his recollections to say, "Chose helmet. First was standard."

He hadn't liked its limited field of vision. He'd spotted another with a huge visor, and he'd refused to budge until they'd given him that one instead.