"I'm picking something up on the scanner,"

Jac looked over at his co-pilot's screen. He gazed at it for a long moment, to assure himself that what he thought he was seeing was, in fact, what he really saw.

"We've got clankers inbound," Jac said "better warn the others,"

The co-pilot responded to this without question. He was a rookie compared with Jac, but he had been in enough scrapes to know that an experienced hand was not one you should argue with. If you had to question them, it was best to do it while complying.

"I can't get through," the co-pilot said after a moment.

Jac took over, then growled in frustration "they're jamming our transmission. We've been set up,"

"Now what do we do?," the co-pilot asked nervously.

"We've got to warn the senators. One of us will have to go and warn them, the other will stay here to guard the ship," Jac said.

"Are you kidding?. With clankers on the way?. Whoever stays behind is toast,"

"Not if they lift off," Jac replied "and land at a prearranged time in an agreed on location,"

Minutes later, Jac was alone on the ground. Using binoculars, he could just barely make out the distant battle droids. He knew that he didn't have a lot of time. He knew also that the Na'taves might well try to stop him. He couldn't let them do that, but neither could he attack them. Stealth wasn't his favorite occupation, but it seemed the reasonable course given the circumstances.

How often are clones victims of circumstance. He thought to himself.

Jac knew he had to travel swiftly. He knew the senators had gone into the nearby building, but he had no schematics for it. What he wouldn't give for some Jedi intuition right about now. But, as he didn't, he'd just have to settle for a clone's methodology. Start at one end and work his way to the other, searching room by room. He did have something to go on. Meeting locations were seldom on the bottom floor for some absurd reason. That meant he ought to start at the top of the building, and work his way down.

I sure hope their elevators aren't too secure.

This proved not to be the case, but he was lucky in a few respects: Na'taves were notoriously independent and therefor loath to sound the alarm and call for assistance. Jac ran into trouble at the first hallway, coming upon three Na'taves who were patrolling. Here he was lucky a second time. Though Na'taves carried weapons, they preferred to engage the enemy head-on, using tooth and nail in favor of technology. That gave Jac the close quarters he needed to disable rather than kill his adversaries.

Thing was, that was easier said than done.

Na'taves were fast, agile creatures, hunting for both survival and entertainment had honed their skills to deadly perfection. Jac's advantages were his armor and his extensive combat training. From day one, he'd been trained to fight, there was room in him for nothing else.

Fact was, there was something thrilling in fighting the Na'taves hand-to-hand. Jac could appreciate their prowess, and be impressed by their skills as he could never be with a droid. Even so, it was over quickly. The aggressive tactics of the Na'taves meant it could be no other way. The Clone had to put them down hard and fast if he wanted to survive. They'd probably be mad when they woke up, he guessed, angry with the Senate who'd sent these ill-mannered and violent clones to them.

Politics had never been part of The Clone's training, but he could recognize when he'd made a mess of things nonetheless. He took solace in the knowledge that he'd had no choice. After all, he'd tried talking first, but the Na'taves wouldn't have any of it.

The elevator, when he found it, was unguarded, and required no security pass to get it moving. This was a relief. The Clone wasn't especially technical minded. He was a ground troop. Not a technician, and not a medic. He knew ground combat. The rest of it was all academics and no experience. By training, he could do any job necessary. But by experience, he'd become only one thing.

The Clone made it to the top floor and set out in search of the senators. His progress was slower than he would have liked, as he repeatedly had to duck and dodge to avoid the Na'taves. Sure, he could fight the lot of them. But what for?. The Republic was trying to make allies of them, and it wouldn't do for him to go around beating up potential friends if it could be avoided.

The Na'taves had led the delegation to a meeting room. A low table was at its center, surrounded by satiny pillows. The Na'taves had curled up, cat style, on the pillows. As they got comfortable, their eyes took on dreamy expressions. Padmé and Rasatin sat on pillows of their own, the clones lingered in the shadows near the door.

"As I was saying, I want you to leave, and to take the Separatists with you," Forsooth said.

At his left lay the white Na'tave. She was called Meisheb, and appeared to be Forsooth's adviser, not that he took much notice of the things she whispered in his ear.

"That's not how it works,"Rasatin tried reasoning with the elder "the Separatists will not go of their own accord. They will have to be driven away,"

"Which will cause more destruction, I suppose," Forsooth murmured.

"No more than we can help, I assure you," Padmé said "the Jedi are keepers of the peace, they do not enjoy violence and destruction,"

"It is not the Jedi who destroy our crops and homes," Forsooth returned "it is your foot soldiers. Clones, I believe is what you call them. Tramping about, shooting anything that moves, ravaging the land like diseased Mityars,"

The clones in the background showed no reaction to the accusation, nor did they show any sign of having heard at all. If they took offense to the remarks, they kept it to themselves.

"The clones operate under orders from Jedi as a rule," Rasatin explained "if any are doing as you have said, they are rogues,"

It was about this time that the doors crashed open and Jac came rolling in. He knelt there, looking around him cautiously before rising. At his back were a handful of furious looking Na'taves, who lashed their tails and hissed at him.

"Explain yourself!," Rasatin exploded, slithering from his pillow with more speed than his ponderous proportions could adequately account for.

"Clankers- er, droids, Senator. They're coming here, jamming our radio. We need to go. Now,"

"Bah!," Rasatin snorted "if there were droids here, we would know about it,"

"Radio transmissions are jammed," The Clone repeated persistently.

"Irrelevant," Forsooth said "I have guards posted. The howl of a Na'tave can be heard for miles. We have no need of your useless technology to communicate. There are no droids,"

"Respectfully, Majesty, I saw them with my own eyes,"

"Liar!," Forsooth snarled, and his fellow Na'taves took up the angry cry.

The Clone looked about him at the advancing natives, then looked to the Senators for aid, or perhaps instruction. The other clones exchanged glances. Were it up to them, they would help their brother, but given the circumstances, they would likely be in error in so doing.

"Stop!," Padmé commanded fiercely "this clone's claims are easily proven. Trooper, give your binoculars to Forsooth, and show him where you saw the droids,"

The Clone bent his head in assent and, amidst the yowling of the Na'taves, he took out his binoculars, went to the window and pinpointed the droids. He could still see them.

"There," he pointed.

Forsooth arose slowly, and moved fluidly to the window. He snatched the binoculars from The Clone and put them to his eyes with clear disdain.

"I see nothing," he said.

Jac fidgeted, obviously fighting the urge to argue with the Na'tave, to insist that he was in the right. Politics be damned, it was his job to keep the senators safe from harm.

"They're there alright. And there aren't enough of us to protect you," The Clone said "we need to leave, and get to where we can call for help,"

"Get this treacherous creature out of my sight," Forsooth hissed.

A brown Na'tave advanced in response to the command, body low and eyes narrowed. The Clone again looked to the senators for help, but they offered none.

"Go with them," Rasatin said "do as they say. We shall come and get you when we are through negotiating. Your masters will deal with you then,"

The Clone clung to his weapon for a moment, as though in protest, then he relinquished it to the Na'tave. His brothers watched him as he was led away, exchanging looks of unease. When one clone went bad, it got them all dirty. Worse, he was the only clone among them with real battle experience.

But there was nothing they could do. They'd heard the Senator's orders.

"As for the rest of you," Rasatin turned on the remaining clones "behave yourselves. I apologize, Majesty Forsooth. Such behavior is not considered acceptable. The offender will be punished, I can assure you," he returned to his seat and settled there while the others slowly went to their own pillows.

The co-pilot, now the pilot, circled around the mountains, out of sight. There he waited for the time he was scheduled to return, unaware that Jac was now imprisoned, and the senators were still oblivious to the danger. The other clones were on the alert, wary even though their brother had been discredited before their eyes. Something didn't sit right with them. They were fast growing to dislike Forsooth and, by association, his people as well.

What they didn't know was that Meisheb harbored reservations of her own.

Unnoticed, she slipped out of the meeting hall and down to the prison block, where The Clone sat in a cell, waiting for the proverbial ax to fall.

"Go away," Meisheb told the guard, lashing her tail to let him know she was in an irritable mood and arguing with her, even briefly, was inadvisable.

The guard scurried out of sight, and Meisheb halted in front of the cell door.

"Come to finish me off?," The Clone asked.

Meisheb frowned at him, critically measuring this strange creature whose kind had come to be a blight upon her beloved land. Even though his eyes were hidden by the helmet he wore, Meisheb could sense his gaze upon her, measuring her even as she now measured him. She decided to ignore his question, at least for the moment.

"You said that radio communication is blocked," Meisheb began.

"That's right,"

"And that is why you entered the meeting hall without permission. You could not acquire it,"

"Right again," The Clone said.

"Yet Forsooth saw no enemies in the distance,"

"So he says," The Clone muttered under his breath.

He evidently believed that he was speaking too softly for her to hear, but Meisheb had the excellent hearing of all her kind, and caught the rude comment.

"You suggest that Forsooth is lying," Meisheb growled, unsheathing her claws menacingly.

"Respectfully, he's either lying or can't see," The Clone returned mildly "I know what I saw. I understand you don't believe what I've said, you've no good reason to. But I won't say I didn't see those droids, because I did,"

"You would not deny it, even though you have been caged because of it?," Meisheb asked.

"I'm a clone, Milady. We may withhold information, but we never lie without orders. It's not in our training. Or in our nature,"

"I see," Meisheb flicked her tail and stalked away, but her mind was racing.

Was it possible that Forsooth was lying?. She didn't want to believe it, but she had suspected it since before The Clone had even come barging in. If Forsooth thought he saw a way of getting rid of both Republic and Separatist troops, he was sure to take it, no matter what.