"And that's that," Laytron said with grim satisfaction as the clone troopers regrouped and started across the rooftop, weapons at the ready. "The Separatists can't fire on them without risking damage to the plant, but they'll be able to fire on the landing ship as soon as they're in range. Is that the sort of diversion you were thinking about, Master Doriana?"

Doriana smiled. "Yes, Lieutenant," he said softly. "That should do nicely."

The sounds of distant blaster fire were clearly audible as Tories emerged from the tunnel into the late afternoon sunlight.

"Sounds like it's started," he muttered to Binalie as the two of them raced for the trees where most of the clone troopers who had gone before them had already taken cover. "I just hope they can keep it up until everyone's out."

"Doesn't matter," Binalie said as they reached the trees.

"What do you mean, it doesn't matter?" Tories asked as they squatted beneath the cover of a wide-crested forlaline bush.

"That's the whole point of this exercise."

Binalie shook his head. "Maybe it was your point, and mine," he said, his voice tense. "But it wasn't Roshton's. He has no intention of getting those techs out."

"What are you talking about?" Tories demanded, frowning.

"Didn't you hear him?" Binalie countered. "Him and his soldiers? He asked about cover, and they gave him the stuff north, south, and east. They never said anything about cover to the west; and he never asked."

Tories blinked as the memory of that conversation flashed back to him.

Binalie was right: Roshton hadn't inquired about conditions to the west. Yet west was the obvious direction for anyone fleeing the plant to go.

But if they weren't leaving...

His eyes flicked around, looking for Roshton, understanding suddenly stabbing into his stomach. He spotted the commander standing beside the tunnel entrance, gazing down the stairway as clone troopers continued to file out.