"Continue," noting Orun Va had fallen silent, I looked up from the screen and gestured permissively for him not to stop. "Your terms. You're so insistent on them that I'm curious now. State them—perhaps they'll even intrigue me."
Orun Va barely perceptibly rocked his tiny head on his long neck, demonstrating superiority over his opponent.
"My people and I will receive substantial compensation for our work," Orun Va said. "We'll have comfortable laboratories and personal quarters. You won't oversee my work, won't look over my shoulder"—as if that were convenient—"won't use my clones against my people—I'll ensure that in their programming. Also, you…"
Found it.
"You're entirely right, Orun Va," I interrupted the Kaminoan's delusional demands, turning the deck screen toward my interlocutor. "We can't create your clone on a Spaarti cloning cylinder. And you seized the moment to simply demand terms for your cooperation with us. I heard your speech. Now hear me. Are you familiar with this exemplar of advanced genetic technology?"
The Kaminoan blinked.
For an instant, his pale lids closed over his almond-shaped eyes.
"That's a Kamino-produced cloning cylinder," the cloner identified infallibly. "And the knowledge-implantation apparatus we used during the creation of the Clone Wars."
"Excellent that you recognize it," I set the deck aside. "Given that Kaminoans once produced clones of hundreds, if not thousands, of races on this very equipment, I'm certain it'll suit Kaminoan cloning too. In general, I have a theory that's precisely how you create your technicians and other service personnel, who differ from clones only physiologically for you."
Now a bet on Orun Va's loquacity.
"Yes, you could make a Kaminoan clone on our equipment," the geneticist didn't disappoint. "But for that, you'd have to venture south of the Rishi Maze and subjugate the planet, as well as my kin. I think you'll have issues with that, given how long the Zann Consortium has held my world."
"That's precisely why I'm offering you a final chance at cooperation," I smiled politely. "You'll forget all your wishes and hear what I say. First—the Zann Consortium won't learn that you, offended by their inattentive treatment of your own genetic enhancements, demonstrated your clones' capabilities to us, effectively gifting us the Smarck base and everything left inside, including Spaarti cloning cylinders, and your own team, for future collaboration."
The Kaminoan sat silent, scrutinizing me intently.
He seemed intrigued.
Of course.
He surely understood that losing the Smarck base not on Makus Kaynif's terms would only enrage those behind him.
And a galaxy-wide hunt for Kaminoans would ensue.
"Second. After what's said in this compartment, you and your subordinates will work under tight oversight and monitoring by our specialists. You'll explain every action to them, elucidate every algorithm and DNA sequence. If it's learned you've tampered with my clones' genetics in any way—you'll be killed."
"I can alter their programming without touching their bodies," Orun Va blustered on.
Judging by Mara's emotionless expression, she was already mentally flaying the cool-headed one into strips.
Though, we'd conducted no deep probes on Kaminoans yet, so perhaps, like some of Mother Earth's aquatic dwellers, they were warm-blooded.
"I'll disappoint you. My people handle clone programming via imprinting machines excellently on their own. So that'll proceed without your involvement."
"You're imposing terms while directly dependent on me," the Kaminoan smirked again. "That's illogical."
"Continuing," ignoring his remark was again met with interest by the Kaminoan. Evidently, he'd grasped I held a certain ace up my sleeve and now hoped to hear it. "Your clone demonstration truly intrigued me. As did your role in the Null- and Alpha-class clone commando projects, which during the Clone Wars handled the most critical and dangerous missions. Successfully. You noted you'd corrected flaws in creating those clone types. I want to know which ones and how."
Kaminoans deemed themselves life's pinnacle form yet remained polite to outsiders.
Any species striving for self-perfection merited respect, but those who didn't, in Kaminoan view, were inferior.
And now I played on the geneticist's professional interest.
"For what purpose do you wish to know this?" he asked.
"To revive those programs," I explained. "As reported, you've already met my fighters from the Fourth Special Storm Commando Unit. And even rated one as promising for further study."
A bit of logic, no deceit.
Due to long isolation, Kaminoans were xenophobes toward other lifeforms, but most saw them as merely outwardly modest.
They also displayed great skill and care for their creations, yet treated them as products.
That was why I dangled the chance to continue personal research, to "hook" him.
They'd worked with humans before, so I doubted major issues resuming Colonel Selid's program…
"Your clone is decent," Orun Va said. "But imperfect. And never will be."
…would arise.
"Elaborate," I demanded, mentally cross-referencing reports of his Smarck base behavior with his current utterances.
"Every cloning candidate of mine is an art exemplar, selected by specific criteria. Your clone—a soldier. He's no object of my professional interest. Such work merits neither my attention nor direct involvement."
Bargaining.
"But that didn't stop you from cloning those delivered to you by Makus Kaynif," Mara interjected.
Her face showed she was at a certain boiling point.
"Because they were all originals," the Kaminoan continued. "Your clone is a product. You can't make a new product from a product. The laws of genetics and cloning are inviolable. Cloning a clone dooms the entire population to extinction. DNA chain degradation is subtle but destructive, afflicting the clone with dementia."
"In other words, TNX-0333 interested you not as a template for new clones, but as an individual platform for enhancement?" I clarified.
"Yes," Orun Va replied. "A singular specimen. I could work on him to address various human issues, like correcting your genetic errors, but that's mere diversion to kill time once the lab's operational. That's how I created enhanced-design 'Vulture' clones."
Well, well, well—this was getting interesting.
The sentient was off on professional tangents.
I saw his disdainful expression and understood his haughtiness and offended grandeur compelled him to explain such "simple" matters.
"The enhanced 'Vultures' were altered pre-cloning process," I inferred. "You intervened in the original's DNA or worked with provided blood samples?"
"The second option is more laborious and was used for the Grand Army of the Republic on Kaminoan equipment. There, embryonic development allows separating product streams for specific specialties. Spaarti cloning cylinders lack that. What you load into the autoclave is what you get out."
"In other words, your task was to use one genotype for all 'Vulture' subunits," I summarized. "And for time savings, you altered the original donor."
"That's what I said," the Kaminoan declared, clearly "adrift" in his work. "Using the original and observing sentient selection, one can derive a superior product. For instance, I could modify your Hand's genes," Jade flinched. "She'd become faster, stronger, more agile. Reaction speed would increase via nervous system and muscular framework modification. I'd make for you an ideal…"
"Over my dead body," Mara spat.
I could swear she gripped her lightsaber.
"Moreover," Orun Va stated. "I'd ensure all changes passed to her offspring hereditarily."
"You're speaking of instilling dominant genes," I said. "Which form through evolution."
"Precisely," the Kaminoan agreed. "Changes we make for clones are recessive. Even if they mate and produce offspring, none of the gene set we implanted in the clone will pass to its progeny."
Note that thought.
As I recalled, at least one descendant of a modified ARC clone and… a Jedi existed.
Curious what the Kaminoan would say to that?
Well, keep the useful info to myself.
As with the fact that Kaminoans could reverse all they'd done to human genes.
But naturally, they wouldn't.
Bad for business.
Accelerated aging program was the basis for rapid clone growth.
But some clones—the "Nulls" and those ARCs who'd joined them—had shed that affliction.
With the aforementioned Ko Sai's aid.
Thus—Kaminoans could grant clones normal lifespans.
But didn't in their "in-house" work.
Why?
For the same reason they didn't pass altered genes to clones' children.
Because the client might breed bastards to economize on future clone purchases.
Thus—the product appeared as an ordinary sentient but aged twice as fast.
Say, for a miner—his death was merely a matter of time.
From old age or unbearable work conditions—the question wasn't crucial currently.
Yet—he couldn't sire a child with the same traits Kaminoans had given him, who might later replace the father in the same labors.
And the mine owner would return to Kaminoans for new products—reentering the same cycle.
Given the costliness of genetic profiling research, one could say the cloners were quite comfortably situated.
"Well, your speech was informative, Orun Va," I said. "Beyond doubt, I won't yield my Hand to you under any pretext. I'm aware Kaminoans have experimented repeatedly with Force-sensitive sentients' genes. Certain that since you deem yourself successful with 'Vultures,' you hope to continue other research."
"Of course—I'm a scientist," Orun Va agreed. "You have the original of my 'Vultures.' Alter loyalty settings in training programs—and keep producing them. This woman is strong, enduring…"
"And dead," I added. "The Zann Consortium destroyed all cargo ships storing lifted cargoes and bodies upon retreat. Whatever you did with the 'Vultures' original, she's gone."
"Confirmed?" Now the Kaminoan was clearly puzzled.
"Your own 'Vultures' blew the ships to keep the precious cargo from our hands," I explained. "So you'll have to restart your work."
"That's laborious," Orun Va frowned. "New donor, new genes, new experiments…"
Intriguing development.
"I'm ready to commence the task of creating the clones you require," Orun Va declared.
He changed his mind quickly.
And I doubted personal "whims" were the cause.
No—this sentient was doing exactly what I was now.
"You changed your view on cooperating rather swiftly," Mara said.
She, as prearranged, played the destabilizing element, pointing out flaws in the Kaminoan's logic.
"Simply—now I'm certain you'll agree," the Kaminoan stated. "The 'Vultures' donor is destroyed, so you can't implant her imprint-machine data into other clones' minds—that'd cause degradation in short order."
Precisely why our Colonel Selid clones "ran out" so fast, after he stuffed his memories into four thousand varied clones. Only those whose incubators got the ex-Mount Tantiss commandant's own DNA lucked out.
The rest… "Perished on mission."
That's the official phrasing for how clones with the colonel's memories but lacking his body were culled from "circulation" upon dementia onset and frozen in carbonite.
Destroying or letting them continue missions—foolish.
Perhaps the process could be reversed…
"And you can't do anything about that degradation," Orun Va dashed (for now) my hopes. "You produce clones, and you succeed. But not all that well—otherwise, you wouldn't send your agent into enemy rear for capturing foe cloners. From what I saw in your storm commando unit—one clone and three normals—either you have equipment issues hence mixed units, or you've run out of suitable cloning originals for specific specializations. And you hope my group and I can restore the original's genocode and continue saturating your troops with specific clones. That can't be done—I've explained why. You can extract any info from your existing clones' heads, but implanting into other genotypes—you can't. Human genetics won't allow such experiments. The promised dementia will ensue. And wasting precious time producing clones who'll forget which end to grip their weapon from in weeks—profligate. You have no other options—you need my help. And you'll get it on my terms! Only thus!"
I calmly regarded the Kaminoan before me, mentally applauding him.
Yes, he'd grasped the essence of some of our issues in his superior field.
And drawn nearly correct conclusions.
The problem was—while he gleaned info from me during the talk, I'd done the same regarding him.
"All said?" I clarified.
"Yes," the cloner replied.
"Well, I can congratulate you—you've just proven your knowledge's value as a specialist," I said.
"As already stated—I'm essential to you!"
"Not you," Mara said, poorly concealing her moral satisfaction. "Just your knowledge."
"The problem is—you won't get it," the cloner retorted. "I won't yield it voluntarily; you can't force me to labor under torture. I won't work on foreign terms."
"And you won't have to," I stated. "Your clone will do it for you."
"Which you can't produce in your Spaarti cloning cylinders," the Kaminoan reminded me. "And even if you hurl forces at reclaiming Kamino, it'll take you ten years…"
"Four to five months," I corrected. "Yes, we're aware of ysalamiri's effect on accelerating cloning."
"But you lack the lizards themselves," the Kaminoan geneticist fished for arguments.
"To your misfortune—we have them," Mara barely hid the venom in her voice now. "Or do you think we clone by the year, as Spaarti protocol dictates? No. Fifteen standard days—and we have a combat-ready clone, whose skills and knowledge update perpetually via originals' successes."
"Your aid was needed only in certain aspects, which you obligingly detailed in this conversation," I said. "And thanks for the candor—working with you is dangerous. But your clone…"
"Conquer Kamino first," for the first time in our talk, emotion crossed the cloner's face.
Yes, spite and sarcasm, but still.
"And I guarantee no resident there will cooperate with Empire followers, no matter your terms," Orun Va continued with undisguised venom.
"Currently, I possess just over twenty-seven thousand Spaarti cloning cylinders," I admitted. "In two cycles, the Dominion can outfit a full squadron of ships or six stormtrooper legions. But that's details. The key—you won't see it."
"I'll live long enough till you conquer Kamino…"
"You'll live exactly," I said, "as long as needed to grow your clone in the Kaminoan cylinder I possess. And he'll obediently do as commanded."
"You're lying," Orun Va blurted. "You can't have such technology! It was never supplied anywhere and isn't now!"
"Then, perhaps you forget how much time the Empire spent on Kamino, absorbing your secrets," I said. "The cylinder is fully operational—I already created my own clone some time ago. And he successfully completed the task."
Pity that copying my memory failed to recover Mitth'raw'nuruodo's knowledge.
Seemed they were lost forever…
But nothing to grieve.
"Then why this meeting?" the clearly enraged Kaminoan geneticist leaned forward.
"Simply to obtain the info I seek," I shrugged. "And the necessary, valuable experience interacting with your caste representative, which gave all answers on making your subordinates work in your absence. Until the clone's ready, of course. After, I'll let you savor the moments as he, like a droid, obediently executes my orders. I won't hide it—I'm curious how severe your identity crisis will be when you realize you've shifted from 'producer' to 'product'?"
"You're conducting psychological experiments on me," Orun Va stated. "You're an experimenter seeking perfection too? Then you're my colleague, albeit in an adjacent field."
Even admiration tinged his voice.
It was so repulsive— hearing approval from his mouth—that I barely restrained a grimace of disgust.
When an engine mechanic calls a surgeon a colleague just because both work on a moving object's "heart," the mechanic either gets punched or offered to overhaul the engine while running.
In my experience, no "mechanoids" had succeeded yet.
Physics and biology were sciences, sure, but not of the same thing.
"Don't try ingratiating via fabricated commonalities," I cut off his psychic encroachments, eyes fixed on his. "And as 'colleague to colleague,' Senior Geneticist, I'll share a secret. Results from working with you and your fellows will let me devise the optimal tactic for engaging your kin. So they'll, unlike you, serve the Dominion willingly after liberation from Zann Consortium control."
"You're a monster," Orun Va pronounced. "Villain, murderer, racial identity destroyer like all Imperials!"
Mara laughed outright, making the Kaminoan twitch nervously and glance about.
These "final throes with accusations" always played like a comedic skit.
"You've no idea how right you are," I agreed. "Fortunately for us all, no one offered me the galactic hero slot."