Yes, he was different. He was a Commando; not mere infantry. He'd explained that to Quey, when the other had been first suspicious of them after the rescue. The Commandos were Mandalorian-trained, raised loyal to the Jedi; not the Senate. Not the 'Emperor'. They operated in 'Pods' of four clones. Always four. Never three, never five. Four. Four brothers trained from 'birth' together. They were fingers on a hand; useless alone, unstoppable together. Covert operations, assassinations, escort missions.. Places that the Army.. that the Jedi couldnt go; the Commandos were there.

He'd been on Geonosis; fighting beneath the crust of the planet while the Jedi claimed the glory above. He'd been on Dantooine; hounding the Seperatists from the shadows. He'd been on Kashyyk, aiding the Wookie resistance before the Republic had officialy stepped in. Kal had seen the war from its inception; he and his brothers had survived everything the Seps, the Trandoshans, and their own chain of command could throw at them. But not Order 66. They'd known it for the traitorous falsehood that it was, they'd known their duty was to the Jedi. They'd come when no one had called, and they'd died unmourned by the blasters of their Infantry cousins, who were too 'set' in their programing to question the Empire.

But Kal wouldnt let his biterness or his memories get in the way of an operation underway, and right now, the Jedi had asked him a question.

"First, you change." He nods to the alleyway behind them, "Infantry are patroling the area. Then we head for the outskirts until the trouble passes."

He folds his arms, fingers brushing lightly over the battered armored gauntlet that encapsulated his left wrist and hand. It was all that was left of the Commando's Katarn armor. Painted black, now, to blend in with civilian clothes, it housed the clone's deadly retractable vibroblade. Jinn had only seen him use it once; when they were accosted by an alien in the depths of Coruscant shortly after their escape. The being's scream had only come out as a muted bloody gurgle, and Kal had dispatched it with a snap of the neck a half-second later. As easy as breathing.

"There are still sympathizers on-planet. There may still be Jedi hiding here." His tone seldom changed; but even he sounded hopeful. With Jedi; he still had a purpose.