"I am given to understand that you must test food before you consume it, that it is required by your training. Please, do so. I will not be offended," Meisheb purred.

Her eyes were half-closed and it seemed that she was enjoying herself immensely. She couldn't help it. It was funny to her, that such a hard and courageous being would find himself uncomfortable and smelling, not of fear, but something which was distant kin to it, here at her table.

The Clone was afraid of her. That was funny, but also sad. He had no reason to fear her. In her eyes, he was just another being, no more a representative of his people than Avella, the attendant who had brought Jac here. One did not judge a people by its soldiers or servants. A far better measure was how those people were treated. It was this that now interested Meisheb.

While there was nothing Jac could do or say which would offend her, there were things he could tell her, which a politician such as Senator Amidala would never speak of, which might reveal more about the Republic and its people. Meisheb knew it would be a delicate matter to extract information from The Clone. She did not want to interrogate him, she was not looking to make enemies or to endanger the Republic in any way. But she was looking for answers to questions which had plagued her from the moment she first met this particular clone.

She watched with pointed interest while The Clone tested the food, and then proceeded to eat. He was a bit unmannerly by Meisheb's standards, but that was to be expected. Not only was he of a different world and culture, he was of what might be termed as "low breeding", which had far more to do with environment and training than genetics.

"May I inquire as to the reason for such tests?," Meisheb knew, of course, but she wanted to hear Jac's answer, what he thought about it.

"Well, if your supplies run out in the field and you need to find food, better to test the resources around you before you eat them. When you live all your life on one world, I guess you can recognize poisonous plants from edible ones, but when you hop from planet to planet like we do, there's not much time for that sort of thing,"

"Indeed," Meisheb replied "and I suppose that strangers might attempt to poison unsuspecting troops as well, if they chose to align themselves with Separatists,"

Jac didn't answer. Meisheb didn't expect him to. Though her words were true, by confirming it Jac feared that he would imply that he did not trust her, as he had tested the food she had offered. Meisheb knew he was simply conforming to training, or at the very least using sound judgment. He was not so familiar with her as she was with him.

When one held the rank that Meisheb did, one had to closely study all potential allies and enemies, to learn their habits, culture and technology, among other things. And Jac she had special interest in.

"Understand that, if a diplomat or politician refuses to comment, they are generally thought of as having pleaded guilty to whatever the charge might be. Not so with a soldier," Meisheb commented "everyone knows that the soldier is forbidden from speaking on a number of topics,"

"Thanks for your understanding," Jac said quietly.

"However, I do have questions. I am perhaps too curious for my own good,"

"I'll answer what I can," Jac replied guardedly.

"I have been told that your kind, clones, are artificially created, raised and trained to fight in this war. And I wonder, what happens if a clone is too badly injured or too old to return to battle?,"

"I'm sure there's a procedure in place,"

"You mean, you don't know what happens to them?,"

"I mean that I've never heard of it happening. Once deployed, we clones don't have a very good survival rate. Simply put, we don't expect to survive any battle we enter in to,"

Meisheb absorbed this, carefully hiding her reaction behind a professionally placid expression.

"You have no home to return to when you've served your entire life?,"

"We like to think of Kamino as our home-world, if that's what you mean,"

"But you're hardly Kaminoan," Meisheb said "I've never met one personally, but I have read a small amount about them. You do not fit the description, nor do you appear suited to a world of water,"

"That's true enough," Jac replied, recalling the difficult time the clones had crossing a body of water here on Aakaria "and no, we're not Kaminoans,"

"And yet you would consider it your home?,"

"It's where I was born and where I trained. It's where my young brothers are training now,"

"Brothers?," Meisheb twitched an ear.

"It's a term we clones use for one another," Jac said "for all practical purposes, we are brothers. I suppose that's not very scientific,"

Meisheb's whiskers fluttered with amusement. It certainly was not scientific. But Jac wasn't meant to be a scientist, and neither were his 'brothers'.

"It's a nice term," Meisheb told him "one of endearment,"

One I wouldn't have expected a clone to think up. But she did not say this.

It was becoming very apparent to her that the clones she had heard tell of, and the clones which really were had little in common. Warriors they might be, but there was clearly a softer side to them. One which was never spoken of, nor probably even thought about.

The Separatists may have crueler intentions than the Republic, but at least they use droids to fight their battles rather than living beings.

"If one of your brothers chose not to fight...," Meisheb spoke slowly enough for Jac to finish for her.

"We don't tolerate deserters," Jac replied, a touch more fiercely than he meant to.

"You would kill a clone who left your ranks?,"

"We'd turn them in," Jac corrected "what happened after that wouldn't be up to us,"

And yet you call them 'brothers'.

"Could a trooper request to be let go?,"

"I wouldn't expect so," Jac said "I've never heard of anybody doing that. We do the job we were trained for. It's all we know how to do. It's the only thing we know how to be,"

"Except for your deserters,"

Jac didn't rise to the bait. Meisheb couldn't help but be impressed. While he claimed to have no understanding of politics, he sure knew when he was being baited. Meisheb decided it was time to pursue some other aspect of this topic.

"I have been told that when the rogues attacked you, you did not fight back,"

"We had our orders," Jac explained.

"And your orders were so important that you were willing to die?,"

"It's what we were created for,"

"To die?,"

"To follow orders,"

"I see,"

Strangely, as The Clone became more comfortable, Meisheb was made increasingly uncomfortable. He spoke so calmly and very earnestly, but there was much contradiction in what he said. His steady gaze betrayed that he was actually aware of it, his eyes seemed to unfocus when he was repeating something drilled into his head and became all the clearer when he said what he truly believed.

He knows it's not right, but can't admit it, even to himself.

At last, Meisheb understood the cause of her discomfort. With every answer Jac gave, Meisheb felt more repulsed by the Republic. She began to wonder why that was. But she had already discovered why she suddenly felt very nearly ill.

She had know all of this, all along, on some level. But she had never bothered to think about it. And she had, in fact, been condoning it. She had even planned to perpetuate it by asking the Republic to come and fight for her world again.

"I have but one final question, then you may go,"

She paused, but Jac didn't encourage her to go on, though he sat attentively.

"Aside from your orders, is there any reason for you to defend other worlds?. They are not your home. You have no family aside from your brothers. From what I understand, you're not even allowed to consider the possibility. You have no future as a race under the current conditions you work in,"

"I don't understand,"

"Why do you fight?,"

Jac took his time answering. There were a million dogmatic things he could say, but he knew Meisheb wouldn't believe anything which sounded like it was recited from a memorized speech. Besides, none of it was true. It wasn't for personal honor, or the glory of the Republic. It had nothing to do with any of that. Nor was it for the appreciation of the rescued people, or praise from superiors. It was something far simpler, and much less glamorous. Something which he'd never been taught, but somehow knew innately, as surely as he knew anything.

"Because, best I can tell, it's the right thing to do,"

In the heat of battle, Jac often forgot his own safety in favor of the brother beside him. Beyond that, these worlds were composed of families with women and children, innocents in a war which made no sense, least of all to the people in it. It was in defending the helpless that he found his truest purpose.

Who won or lost in the end, and what policies they chose to support were all things very much out of his hands. But he was a ground trooper, whose sole mission it was to drive out Separatist troops. Though he could not speak to the future, he could do everything in his power to try and save those who would later give that future shape.

This he did not try to explain, for he had never thought it through enough to give words to it. For him, it simply was.

"Thank you, Jac. It has been a most enlightening evening," Meisheb said, arising "in the morning, I intend for you to join my guards in the field who are searching for any of your brothers who survived the attack by the rogues,"

"But-,"

"I insist upon it, just as I insisted you come here. If your superiors have a problem with that, they may speak with me about it,"

"I'll have to get permission anyway,"

"As you wish. Know also that I don't expect your services as a speaker to be needed,"

"May I ask: why not?,"

"You have told me a great deal this evening. But the most important thing was that which you did not say," at this Jac looked even more confused, but Meisheb went on without pause "a government is best judged by how it treats its people,"

This didn't clear anything up for Jac, but he waited politely for her to finish.

"And the Republic treats its people badly,"

"If you mean us clones, your Majesty, you shouldn't worry. We are what we are, and we do what we were created to do. We're hardly worth considering,"

"That is your Republic speaking," Meisheb said, her voice hard. Then it softened and she smiled slightly as she added "your courage under fire and loyalty to your brothers says that you are people. Though you did not speak of it, I could hear in your voice, and see in your eyes, that you did not wish to be here. You wanted to be searching for your missing brothers. To rescue your injured and bury your dead. You may rest assured that not another clone will die for Aakaria. Not while I still live,"