b]Name[/b]:
b]Age/Race/Gender[/b]: Humanoids only please. No Ewoks, no Hutts, etc.
b]Appearance[/b]: Pics are allowed.

b]Armor/Clothing[/b]: Don't worry about this if you already have it in your picture above.
b]Weaponry[/b]: Only Jedi may have lightsabers.
b]Other Items[/b]:
b]Skills and Abilities[/b]:

b]Personality[/b]:
b]History[/b]:

Name: ARC Sergeant C-12 'Blunt'

Weaponry: DC-15A Blaster Rifle, EMP Grenades, D-17 Hand Blaster.

Personality: Blunt is, as his name says, blunt. He says it as it is, no matter how grim. Noted and court martial'd several times due to his blatant sarcasm, questioning orders and getting involved in the trading of droid fingers, he isn't exactly a model Clone trooper. However, his bravery in battle and participation in the Battle of Geonosis earned him him the rank of sergeant and green stripes, which means he can command a small squad of 4-5 soldiers in battle. As with phase-II ARC clones, he has developed a more flexible form of independence and willingness to follow the Jedi. Despite his flaws, Blunt usually follows orders from his leaders word-to-word and thinks highly of his higher-ups. Whether he considers the Republic or the Jedi as his leaders is yet to be seen.

History:
Blunt, like every clone ever, was 'born' on Kamino. For the first 10 years of his life, he trained, slept, socialised, lived and breathed the Republic. Despite the doctrines shoved down his throat, he had a clear sense of independent thinking that made him more aware and clever of his surroundings. He often thought of himself as being better than the Phase I troopers, which led to him developing a good sense of sarcasm. As his name suggests, Blunt was blunt during training and would often question orders or take a pessimistic attitude towards plans he viewed as stupid. He received several warnings and was eventually court marshalled. His punishment was to clean ever single piece of armour coming into the facility for 6 months. After that, he bucked up his ideas a bit and kept his opinions to himself. However, the name Blunt stuck as his sarcastic sense of humour stayed.

During the Battle of Ryloth, a collection of 13 Clones became cut off from the main army. Blunt was one of these 13. Unbeknownst to them, they were already behind enemy lines. All attempts at contact with the main force were met with static. The clones were leaderless and lost, unsure what to do. Despite infighting, Blunt took control of the group and led them from the wilderness to behind enemy lines. There, they caused havoc amongst the droids and their tanks, destroying droid commanders and decimating isolated patrols. No clone was left behind, despite injuries. When they rejoined the main army, all 13 were given medals of honour. Blunt was given his green stripes and was told because of past insubordination, he could of gotten higher. Blunt was somewhat bitter at the fact but vowed to use his rank of sergeant well.

Currently, Blunt is in Myreeth Mygeeto under a Jedi commanding a small squadron of 4 clones. Order 66 has come through and for the first time in a while, Blunt feels he must question his order. But is his loyalty of the Republic valued more than his respect and friendship of the Jedi Order?

Name: "Doc", Medic Trooper CT-3519
Age/Race/Gender: Standard Clone Trooper

Weaponry: DC-15S Blaster Rifle
Other Items: Backpack unit packed with various medical tools, supplies, bacta injections, and other equipment needed to patch up and get Clones, and other friendlies for that matter, back into the fight, or back to more equipped medical stations for more in depth treatment.

Personality: Doc has deviated fairly far from your normal loyalist clone. He doesn't care for the fighting, the bloody mindless grinding marches on the Separatist forces time and again, watching one too many good men and women, clone or not, die defending the Republic or while just trying to survive in a crossfire between armies. He can be described to go so far as to hate the war now, the sheer amount of violence from both sides distancing him from the new clones and veterans who thirsted for more combat. He will openly voice his opinion when asked, having grown too old, in his mind, to be bothered with beating around the bush and being tactful anymore. Having developed under various commanders, both Jedi and clone, he doesn't feel the same camaraderie and connection to his clone brothers that he once did earlier in the war, but still at least tries to get along with those he serves with, since he is the one they are relying on if a plan fails again and the casualties start pouring in once more. He technically holds the same rank as a Private, although his experience and role as a medic separates him from the rank and file.

History: One of the first batches of clone medics born on Kamino, he went through the exact same training as the other medics that were destined to serve with their normal brothers in the war against the Separatists. Serving in the initial wave of clones that deployed to the Battle of Geonosis, as a first generation clone, Doc would find himself patching more injuries than he had been initially prepared for, having to improvise equipment and scrap to keep clones alive. He himself was injured during the fighting, droid blaster fire tearing through his helmet, which had saved his life by taking the brunt of the energy from the weapons fire before it hit him properly. But the battle was won, regardless of the casualties, living and dead, and after being properly healed, Doc was reassigned to new battlefields. From claustrophobic street fighting to high speed fights across open plains, Doc saw a variety of injuries, in just about every battle zone imaginable. And he grew to hate every waking moment of it.

Doc knew clones that lived for the next fight, some who were driven by the will to protect others, that each long term survivor had a driving force that kept them going. He found that he was still fighting and keeping others alive for that day the war ends. The day where a man like him, a soldier bred from birth to fight and keep an army functioning, would no longer be needed or even wanted. So whether he was firing his rifle at an approaching wall of droids on some blasted field, dragging a badly injured trooper behind a pile of debris to keep the unlucky soldier alive, or packing his kit for deployment towards the next warzone, Doc kept looking long term, fighting and acting for that final moment where he could look around him and see that warriors and soldiers would not be necessary any more in his lifetime. He considered himself prepared for whatever the war would throw at him, and prepared well enough for those around him as well, all for the sake of ending it and hopefully being able to retire in peace. But nothing could have prepared the medic for hearing Order 66 actually enacted, but he now has to decide whether to continue following orders or not. Whether the orders of the Republic he was bred to fight and die for meant more than the Jedi that had fought and possibly bled alongside them in the trenches, figuratively and possibly literally. And it both terrified and relieved him that betraying the orders of the Republic were going through his head.