The Nu-class attack shuttle visibly shook as it swept low, wings almost touching the top of the trees of the thick jungle as it came around to hover above the grey concrete buildings. Its red and white paint had almost disappeared under the carbon scoring covering it, black smoke rising from somewhere in its rear.

The shuttle shuddered as it evened out, wings folding up, and less than gracefully plopped down on the designated landing pad. Almost instantly the front ramp opened, smoke pouring out of the entrance, along with a host of curses as a white armoured clone pilot ran around within it with a fire extinguisher.

The pair that marched down the ramp were silent though, brown robes pulled close as they marched down.

The one at the front was a blue twi'lek, his green eyes scanning the surroundings with a twinkle of amusement. The one a step behind him was human, a quite short woman whose brown hair had been pulled into quite an elaborate bun behind her head, her blue eyes looked on at the scene before her with disinterest, her tanned face having a slight tint of green to it as she stumbled after the other jedi.

The republic base consisted of over two dozen single-floor rectangular buildings with rounded corners, they were grey, a mix of concrete and steel plates. Most were also pockmarked by carbon scoring, a sure sign that the current peace was an illusion at best. Not that peace meant calm, everywhere they looked they saw bustling activity as clone troopers moved between the buildings, some carrying datapads, others crates of supplies, off in the distance a small platoon sat around a bunch of crates and played dice by the looks of it.

Only one of the many troopers paid them any heed, and he stood in attention a foot away from the ramp. His hair had been dyed stark red, brown eyes following the pair coming to meet him. Dressed in a stark white clone trooper armour the man kept his helmet under his left arm, standing in a hint of attention as he saluted them. "Jedi master Boc Fac, welcome to Dacher 4, otherwise known as Deadlock. How was the ride?"

The twi'lek offered his hand, smiling widely, there was a hint of hesitation before the clone shook the offered hand. "Uneventful until we entered the system, when they said the confederates dominated space around here they weren't kidding."

"I think I'm going to be sick..." The human jedi muttered, a hand going to her stomach as he face turned another shade of green.

"Ah yes, this is my padawan, Weela Mern." The twi'lek gestured towards the woman, patting her shoulder. "I believe the last bit of the journey didn't agree with her stomach." Chuckling the man turned back to the trooper, ignoring the discomfort of his padawan as she sat down on the foot of the ramp. "And you are...?"

"Commander CC-5689 sir, you may call me Juggler." The man pulled his hand back.

"Juggler? Great..." The woman groaned, hands going up to rub her temples. "Bet there's a story there..."

"There is." The commander nodded, he didn't offer to tell it though, making the twi'lek arch an eyebrow.

Clearing his throat Boc Fac looked about the camp. "I'm surprised...there seems to be fewer troopers here than it should."

"Most are out fighting sir." The commander replied, glancing over at the woman as she slowly turned back into a normal colour. "Deadlock keeps most of our troops..."

"Deadlocked, got it." Boc Fac chuckled, quietly noting the way the commander tensed at that. "And where's our escort? Not that I want to leave today...but I would appreciate some introductions."

"The clone commando's are still out fighting sir." The commander saw how twi'lek squinted at him and shrugged. "Panther squad is the only remaining squad in the system sir...you can't expect them to be at your beck and call...sir." Noticing his own tone the commander made an apologising gesture. "It was planned that they would be here to meet you today I admit, but they're late from their last mission."

"They're...not dead...are they?" The woman muttered, grunting as she got up and glanced at her master. "I don't want to fly back already, or worse, work with one of your improvised plans."

Boc laughed, flashing the woman a wide smile. "Why Weela! You hurt me! My plans have always worked out perfectly, and yes, while it often requires some cold nerves and the enduring of the odd disgusting period..."

"Last time I had to dance in that ridiculous outfit!" The woman snapped, apparently the journey having put her in a mood to argue. "I was undignified!"

"It worked didn't it? And no one got hurt..."

"I had a cold for two weeks!"

Clearing his throat the commander grimaced. "While this is extremely important no doubt...I am the commanding officer of the entire northern hemisphere of this planet and have work to do."

Both jedi frowned. The twi'lek cocking his head to the side. "The entire...northern hemisphere? Is that not too much for a single commander?"

"The other commanders were killed, partly the reason I'm wearing standard clone trooper armour." The man looked over the two jedi. "Perhaps you should consider changing too...snipers are rife in these jungles."

"Snipers are no danger to us." Boc looked around himself, noting the slight mist in the distance. "Though I would appreciate advice, jungle planets are new to me...any advice on how to handle it?"

The commander stiffened slight, if in irritation or otherwise was hard to tell. "Get phase 2 trooper boots, even they are worn down quickly in this place, but at least they won't let water in like the leather boots you wear...half our orders for replacement parts are boots."

"Well ain't that encouraging." The woman muttered, having resigned herself to glaring at the surroundings, especially the troopers playing dice over in the distance. "We're stuck in the middle of nowhere and it already seems as if I'm going to get some sort of shit in my clothes."

Boc frowned, shooting his padawan an irritated look even as the commander spoke: "I know the feeling ma'am, it is shared among most troopers here."

"Aha...and why is that commander? And why have you not rectified it? Surely it cannot be good for the morale." Boc asked, the irritated look now turned to the commander.

The clone just shrugged. "I share their sentiment, we are simply here because the confederates has troops here, to lock them down. Heck, this place is not even seen as important enough to warrant any air support. Just some supplies coming in at times to keep us running. We're clones sir, not idiots."

"Hey! That's no way to view your duty!" The woman growled.

"We do our duty, what more can you ask?" The commander glared back at her, making the padawan recoil in surprise. Then he turned a neutral face back to Boc Fac. "I could order them not to speak in such a way sir...but it would be pointless."

"Indeed it would." The twi'lek nodded. "But perhaps trying to raise the morale would help in muting such...talks."

"Sir, that is illogical. We have little-" The commander stopped mid-sentence, head tilting to his side as he pushed a finger into his ear. "Repeat that gate...yes...yes...yes send them my way, I'll handle it." He looked up at them, smiling slightly. "The commando's are at the gate, they'll be with us shortly..."