Star Wars: A Clone's Tale/Chapter Three

19 was on his way to his room when he started thinking. 45 had once again tried to insert authority into a situation that demanded instinctive response. 19 just simply could not have waited for 45 to give him the order to throw the ECD, or the squad would have taken far greater casualties than it had. If it had been reality and not a sim, their lives would have been on the line, a waste of good infantry resources. 19 started thinking about ways he could either get around this problem or remove it. The main problem was simply that 45 was squad leader. He had to obey him. The only real course of action available was to inform the trainers about this problem and advise them on what to do. It wasn't much, but it was something.

As 19 thought to himself, he began to wander throughout the facility. He wasn't getting lost, just taking the long way back to his room. He came out of his reverie in the commando training sector. As he passed by locker room, he heard voices inside, no doubt several commandoes gearing down for the day. Out of innocent curiosity, he stopped and looked in. There were probably a dozen commandoes in the room, all removing armor and weapons from themselves. The commandoes were definitely something else from the troopers. They were all physically as big and muscular as 19, but just the way they moved was different. Every motion was very precise and coordinated. Their weapons and equipment were unique, as well. Instead of the DC-15 rifle the clone troopers used, the commandoes used the DC-17m, a more compact carbine with modular weapon components for blaster fire, anti-armor ordinance, and sniping. The commando armor was an entire different matter. The standard clone trooper used the Phase 1 armor, bland, white, ablative plasteel armor that gave maximum protective coverage for maximum agility at the same time. It wasn't fancy, and it could save your life; just don't sit down in it. The commando Katarn Armor was all that and a whole lot more. The armor was compound multi-layered ablative with a built-in shield generator. That made for some impressive durability in combat. The armor was also equipped with a gauntlet-mounted vibroblade for melees. The troopers were just trained to use whatever was handy for melees, most often their rifles. The commandoes were the specialist of this army, men who feared nothing.

As 19 was leaning in the door, soaking in the feel of power from these solders, a commando in yellow highlighted armor walked up to him and removed his helmet, "Not often we get visitors over here. Who are you?"

One more thing that amazed 19 about these soldiers was their personalities. The troopers often developed their own personalities from the pod-based training before birth, but they all shared some of the basics like ideas, thought patterns, and accent. All the clones shared their accent with their DNA template, a bounty hunter named Jango Fett. These commandoes had such different personalities that they even had different accents from one another.

The commando talking to him had a straight accent with no inflections, "I'm 62. What's your number, bud?"

He swallowed hard before speaking, "19."

"19. I don't think I've seen you before. You must be a trooper, right?"

19 nodded, "Yes, I am."

62 nodded in return, "Kinda what I thought. We don't see many troopers over in this neck of the woods."

Another commando, this one in orange armor, walked up next to 62, "Who do we have here, Scorch?" This commando had the same accent as 19.

62, Scorch, looked at the other commando, "This is 19, sir. He's a trooper. Guess he was sightseeing and found his way over to our hole."

"Well, nice to meet you, 19. I'm 38, Delta squad leader. What unit you in?"

"Gamma unit, third squad."

Delta 38 nodded, "Gamma unit, huh? You know, you're something of a legend among the commandoes. It's been said that Gamma unit is so good, they're one step shy of being retrained into a set of commando squads."

19 scoffed lightly, "Well, I wouldn't say we're that good. We just try to be our best at everything."

38 smiled, "Well, keep up the good work, soldier." As 38 was about to continue on, a commando in green highlighted armor, still wearing his helmet, stepped over.

"This is the commando sector, trooper. Move on."

38 shot him a stern look, "40, that's enough. Go gear down for the night."

"Yes, sir." The commando followed the order without question.

38 looked a little flustered, "You'll have to forgive my XO. Fixer tends to be a little too regulations-minded at times. But in this case, I think he's right. It's getting to be your lights out, trooper. You'd best be getting a move on."

19 nodded firmly, "Yes, sir."

Before he left, 38 got his attention again, "Hey! If you're ever in the neighborhood again, look up Delta Squad. Hopefully, we'll be around."

19 smiled, "Thank you, sir." He left the room with a different outlook on the commandoes than he had before. They were trained to be the perfect killers, but they were still human underneath all that special armor and training. They weren't just wind-up-toy soldiers that the Republic was going to wind up and set loose. The commandoes were just as human as 19 was, maybe even more so. It also seemed 19 had some distant friends in the commandoes. 38 and 62 seemed to be good men and they appeared to like him. 19 was processing all these new thoughts in his head as he went down his dormitory hall to find his room. It had been an interesting day, and it appeared for once to have been interesting in a good way.