Weela Mern was not in the mood to meet more clones today. Not only had they spent a day at the slowest lightspeed possible, she then had to endure a nail-biting two hours in being tossed about in their shuttle while blaster cannons tore through their ship. The smoke had been the last straw...being thrown about in a room filled with smoke had made her so nauseas that she'd been just about ready to throttle her master when he'd asked how she was doing.

And now she was here, on a planet that smelled like a hut's backside and surrounded by clones. Sure, she understood that the clones were the only thing keeping the republic in the war, and that they had been instrumental in keeping many a jedi alive...heck one had saved her before. Despite all that, and Boc Fac's many lectures on them...she still found them creepy. There was just something...wrong about them.

Still, she straightened where she stood, at least she was not nauseas anymore...and making Boc even more irritated with her behaviour than he already was was just foolish. Looking towards the area commander...Juggler of all things...had indicated she forced herself to ignore the sight of clone troopers playing dice. When had the clones gotten names anyway? Didn't anyone find their similar faces scary? Not to mention that they now were supposed to use their names instead of serial numbers...creepy.

"Ah, there they are." Boc Fac smiled, the usual expression of the twi'lek, as he pointed towards the approaching quartet. "Notice the difference with the usual troopers padawan?"

The question was probably rhetoric, it had to be, or perhaps her master had finally lost it?

First of all the four troopers walked in an oddly sloped fashion, their armour somewhat sturdier looking, and all wore green camouflage painted over their armour, paint that seemed oddly...moving? Weela wrinkled her nose as the smell assaulting her. Oh force...that wasn't paint at all! None seemed surprised at the slime covering the troopers though, nor about the foremost of them having a B1 battle droid's head strapped to his left shoulder. Weela grimaced at the sight, those machines were ugly...and this one was rusty with age, making it look all the more menacing.

"They...stink?" Boc shot her an angry look, making Weela shrug. "Sorry, couldn't help myself."

The one with the droid head on his shoulder stepped up to the commander. He still hadn't removed his helmet, none of them had for some reason...? "Mission accomplished commander." The voice was scratchy, as if someone had been choking the clone. "There might still be a droid commando left out there but the others have been disabled, we also retrieved thirty tags." He held out a small leather bag and dropped it into Juggler's hand.

"Good work sergeant, I'll send fresh contingents into the area to secure it against further infiltration." The commander opened the small bag and looked down at the small metal tags within it. "Very good job, might give us some reinforcement."

What were they talking about? From Boc Fac she felt a slight twinge of sadness, the clones were completely neutral though, the commandos seemed tired, though their stances in that stinking armour of theirs showed nothing of it. "Thank you commander, new mission or can we wash off and rest?"

"Actually sergeant...you remember the mission brief I sent you? The jedi are here now." Juggler gestured towards Boc and Weela.

Weela found herself gasping as the four commandos turned to face her, the sudden anger thrown at her surprisingly powerful. "Oh yes, them." The sergeant of the squad growled, voice full of scorn. "Permission to go out on another mission this instant commander?"

"Permission denied." Juggled sighed. "And behave."

"Hello." Boc Fac still wore a wide smile, apparently choosing to ignore the blatant show of dislike from the clones. "I am jedi master Boc Fac, this is my padawan Weela Mern. I am afraid I have not been properly briefed on who you are...?"

"RC-1312 sir." Came the dry reply, the clones still hadn't taken their helmets off!

Boc chuckled, running a hand down one of his lekku. "I was more curious about your name."

"I am a clone, I have no name." A growl.

"Come now...surely you have a callsign?" Boc smiled over at the other clone commandos, apparently hoping to win them over, the slightly glowing lenses looking back said nothing however. "All clones have it by now, surely your friends haven't been as boring as to not give you a name?"

The clone sergeant turned his head to look at the others for a moment, could they give each other looks through those buckets? "Fine." The sergeant looked back at Boc. "You may call me Fourth."

"Excellent! Hello Fourth!" Her master pushed his hand forth with a wide smile. That was his style, overwhelm any opposition with so much kindness and politeness that they simply don't know how to dislike you after a while. It was surprisingly effective... "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

The sergeant shrugged, ignoring the offered hand. "When do you wish to leave...sir?" There was a hint of irony in his voice at the end. Boc lowered his hand.

"Why you-" Weela forced her mouth to close, feeling Boc shoot her a look of disapproval. Come now...deep breath....calm... "Please address my master with the proper tone of respect."

"No."

"N...no?" Weela blinked.

"You may order me to do so, but until then...no." The sergeant cocked his head to the side, despite the helmet she got the feeling the clone was daring her to order it about...what the hell was wrong with this place!? "Now sir, when do you wish to leave?" The clone turned back to look at Boc, Weela frowned, most of the anger seemed to come from the sergeant...though it was enough for all four.

Boc shrugged. "Oh there's no great rush, at least not enough to deprive you and your fine men of some well earned rest." Somehow the man still wore a smile, something Weela had yet to master. "When you've had proper time to rest and prepare I wish to leave as quickly as possible though, if there are no objections."

"None that would be accepted." The sergeant nodded. "Very well, we leave the day after tomorrow at sunrise. Acceptable sir?" How could her master just smile at such blatant dislike?

"Quite acceptable Fourth, I look forward to working with you." Boc grinned, apparently set on breaking down the wall the sergeant was putting up. "I would also like to talk with you...perhaps have your help in finding our way around here...?"

"You require a commando as a guide?" The sergeant snorted, then looked over at the other commandos. "Fine...RC-1269!"

"Yes sir?" One of the other commandos stepped forward, though similar to his sergeant in his armour there was no hostility rolling off him, in fact he almost seemed friendly. Like night and day...if he hadn't been a creepy clone Weela could have almost smiled at him.

"You're assigned as these jedis' babysitter! Got it!?" Babysitter!?

"Crystal sir."

"Good." The sergeant turned to look at the jedi. "Anything else sir?"

"Not at all, please, go enjoy your free time." Boc bowed slightly, drawing a small chuckle from one of the commando's even as the sergeant snorted.

"Good, Lip, you stay with the jedi." The sergeant turned, marching away with two of the others in tow even as he said. "At ease."

The commando still standing with them finally pulled his helmet off, revealing the classic clone face, though his hair was surprising long and dyed in a stark purple shade....and he sported a goofy smile that seemed so out of place Weela had to give him a second look. "Hi there, I'm RC-1269, or Lip if you prefer it."

Weela sighed, she hated clones...whenever you thought you had them pinned they surprised you...Boc seemed delighted however: "Nice meeting you Lip, how about giving us the grand tour?"

"Sure thing sir." The clone smiled, genuinely even.

Oh great...

"Now this is the armoury, quite boring if you're not..."