To see a clone out of armor would be a very rare thing, indeed. Kal was unshaven, his hair beginning to grow out of regs. And yes... unfortunately for Cyphor; Kal's eyes had been the sharpest in his pod.

He doesnt move his head, just his eyes. Lifting a hand to tap his shoulder twice, quickly, the motion is unconcious. He sighs slightly. Only three men in the galaxy would've known what that motion meant, but none of them were here. "Trouble." He translates the hand signal for Ta'quey's benefit.

The Commando shifts the hovering speederbike to the Twi'lek, "Keep walking. No noise. Could be an informant." He'd check it out; he couldnt endanger Ta'quey.

Splitting off from the apprentice, trusting him to take care of himself for as long as it took the Commando to deal with the threat, Kal approaches the alleyway. He felt so blind without his brothers, so vulnerable. Twitch would tell him he was being an idiot, Boomer (yeah, he was demolitions..) would wonder if they were really from the same vat, Cheif would call them all a bad waste of good genes...

Kal brings the DC-17 "Deece" up to a ready-fire possition as he steps into the alleyway, sighting the walking figure with ease. Bothan, male. Too easy. One bolt. Two for good measure; incase there was armor beneath the loose shirt... Easy, Kal. Shooting made noise.

He whistles sharpley to get the moving being's attention to the fact there was a high-powered rifle now aimed at him.

"Name and purpose, stranger." The way Kal said 'stranger' sounded strangely like 'target'.