??
The researcher's finger hovered in midair, the translucent skin at his knuckle faintly glowing with blue vascular light. He paused for a moment, then gave a self-deprecating smile.
After all, this Kaminoan had been working nonstop for two Kaminoan cycles. Clearly, fatigue was starting to affect his mind.
"Hallucinations caused by overfocus," he murmured in that unique Kaminoan cadence, shaking his cone-shaped head slightly.
As the chief geneticist of this facility, he was all too familiar with the tricks of the Dark Side. The Jedi archives were filled with tales of temptation—each beginning with some ambiguous "gift."
Closing his eyes briefly, he performed a traditional Kaminoan deep-breathing sequence.
Then he keyed in a purge command on the console, deleting the bizarre gene sequence from the display.
The screen went dark. For a brief moment, the lab was plunged into blackness, lit only by the ambient bioluminescence of deep-sea life moving across the observation window.
He steadied himself.
"Time for rest," he declared calmly.
Kaminoans were genetically engineered for extreme rationality. Emotional fluctuations rarely exceeded a 15% deviation from their neural baseline. To him, the experience was a clear symptom of mental overexertion.
In a dimension far removed from this one, the entity that had been attempting to seduce him felt an unusual pang of frustration.
It had circled the researcher for a long time, trying multiple approaches, even revealing true genetic secrets.
And this damn "fish-head" dismissed it all as overwork?
"Then look at this," it whispered again, this time projecting a dynamic gene map directly onto the researcher's retina.
"The secret of immortality."
Still, the researcher didn't even pause while tidying up.
He methodically sealed every device inside a quantum-encrypted storage cabinet—his movements as precise as a machine.
"The Galactic Empire is rotten. The Human Empire cannot be trusted."
The voice shifted its tone, growing solemn.
"Join us. Kamino will know true freedom."
Finally, a response—though not one the entity had hoped for.
The researcher pressed the wall's sanitation switch. The lab filled with lemon-scented cleansing vapor.
"I really do need that leave of absence," he said aloud, with terrifying composure.
As he walked toward the airlock, his thoughts were unusually clear.
He had reviewed every recent report about corruption outbreaks across the galaxy—especially the horrors of Coruscant: riotous, bloodthirsty shock troops twisted by Chaos.
And now, if this same malignancy had touched Kamino...
His pace quickened.
As a member of the Gene Council, he had direct access to the Prime Minister. Though Kamino maintained a stance of neutrality, they would not stand idle against a threat to their survival.
Their defense fleets were children's toys compared to the Human Empire—let alone when facing a force capable of warping reality itself.
As the airlock door opened, the researcher cast one last glance back at the lab.
The entity seemed to drop its facade at last, projecting a grotesque illusion onto the observation glass: twisted clone bodies writhing in a sea of blood.
"We'll meet again, little one!" the voice spat, now fully malicious.
The researcher responded by slamming the lab's emergency purge button.
High-voltage arcs surged through the entire room, ionizing even the seawater beyond into a flash of blue light.
Then he turned and ascended toward the surface.
On the transparent skybridge leading to the Prime Minister's estate, he activated his personal datapad and began drafting an emergency response plan.
Kaminoans may appear emotionally cold, with little interest in anything beyond cloning and research, but their commitment to defending their homeworld was unparalleled.
Two hours later, Tipoca City was fully immersed in the deep-sea night.
Outside the top-tier panoramic suites, the once-sparkling bioluminescence now glimmered like diluted stardust in darkened waters. Occasionally, massive ocean beasts glided past the windows, casting shifting shadows like ancient monsters peering in from myth.
The Spartan warriors remained at full tactical readiness.
Douglas stood like a statue at the corridor bend. His MJOLNIR's passive scanning systems whirred continuously, and his finger hovered near the trigger guard of his signature Gauss rifle.
Ko'r was seamlessly blended into a structural pillar, her sniper scope trained on the elevator door's central seam.
Even normally hyperactive Malon was uncharacteristically quiet, leaning against an emergency bulkhead, fingers tapping his LMG rhythmically—perhaps part of some self-imposed ritual, some secret beat to ward off catastrophe.
Inside the suite with the best view, Leon was sound asleep.
A half-empty bottle of Kaminoan liquor sat on the floating table, amber liquid catching the faint light, casting dreamy halos on the surface below.
In the next room, Bez was snoring like thunder. The former Templar Guard hadn't passed up the open bar; his massive blaster hung casually off a nearby sculpture.
In contrast, the adjoining office suite shared by David and Lucy glowed with a soft, steady light.
Lucy's electronic eye flickered as she finalized a mission report. David's mechanical fingers typed furiously, streaming data to the Rizhou via quantum-encrypted uplink.
A web of blue holo-light spun between them—two shadows focused entirely on their task.
Meanwhile, Chirrut sat in deep meditation.
His blind eyes suddenly opened.
He felt a ripple in the Force—an unseen disturbance that made the energy field tremble.
Without hesitation, the Force-sensitive rose, threw on his black robe, and summoned his lightsaber to his palm.
He opened his door and walked directly toward Leon's suite.
The Spartans didn't stop him. They didn't need to ask.
He was going to alert Leon about the anomaly he'd sensed.
Just as Chirrut's fingers reached for the suite door, the air seemed to thicken.
A low-frequency vibration passed through the walls—from the ocean depths—syncing eerily with the hum of the elevator.
It started like the buzz of insect wings, but in the corridor's silence, it grew unnaturally loud.
Every Spartan's weapon snapped to readiness in a heartbeat. Servos in their MJOLNIR suits growled low and steady.
Douglas dropped his center of mass, rifle nestled into his shoulder socket. Ko'r locked her scope on the elevator seam. Malon silently secured the flank.
Jerome and Alice stood just behind Chirrut.
The elevator hissed.
Out stepped Tayla Ko—always the picture of Kaminoan composure—now visibly pale, accompanied by ten fully armed clone guards.
Their blasters pointed down, safeties on. A universal sign of non-hostility.
Tayla raised both hands high. Her long fingers trembled uncontrollably.
"I deeply apologize for the late disturbance," she said, voice taut and shaken. "But this is an emergency. The Prime Minister requests an immediate meeting with Mr. Kennedy."
Inside Douglas's HUD, bio-scanners spiked.
Her stress hormone levels were off the charts. Pupil dilation was far beyond normal. Her soldiers' weapons showed zero active charge—not a trick, but genuine fear.
Chirrut's blind eyes rotated slightly. His calloused fingers tightened around his unlit saber.
In the Force, he could feel it now—darkness spreading like thick oil in the water.
"Darkness moves," he murmured to Jerome. "They've sensed it too… or perhaps smelled death."
Just then, Leon's suite door hissed open.
The man, supposedly drunk just hours earlier, was now fully alert—eyes sharp as glass, custom pistol glinting under the corridor lights.
His shirt still bore a liquor stain, but his stance was as taut as a drawn bowstring.
"Looks like the sightseeing tour's postponed," he said calmly.
His gaze swept across Tayla's microexpressions and her troops. He spoke without raising his voice:
"Well then, Minister, what's got Kaminoans losing sleep tonight?"
Tayla inhaled deeply. When she spoke again, it was with the formal inflection of her kind:
"Our deep-sea cloning facilities have encountered unknown contamination. Thirty-seven pods went dark in rapid succession. Surveillance footage shows…"
She hesitated.
"The nutrient fluid… transformed into a living substance. The Prime Minister believes it may be related to the corruption that consumed Coruscant."
The corridor's emergency lights flickered.
Tayla's voice dropped lower. "The infected clones are rewriting their DNA. We desperately need your experience handling such anomalies."
Leon's eyes narrowed slightly, but his tone remained steady. "Understood."
At that moment, the office door slid open. David and Lucy emerged, expressions grim.
They'd clearly intercepted the corridor audio feed.
Lucy's ocular lens blinked, scanning Tayla and her guards. David's bionic eyes streamed live surveillance from Kamino's depths.
"Where's Bez?" Leon asked.
Jerome replied, "Still asleep. Vitals stable."
Leon smirked, "Let him sleep. If things go sideways, he'll wake up faster than any of us."
Then, to David and Lucy:
"Get back to the Rizhou. Report to Command. Contact the nearest Sons of the Wounded. We'll need their support ASAP."
"Yes, sir."
Lucy added, "I've already uploaded the contamination data via secure channel. Jedha's Bio Division and the Inquisition will receive it first."
Leon nodded, satisfied. Then turned to Chirrut.
"Care to meet the Prime Minister, friend?"
The blind "guide" smiled faintly, fingers brushing his saber hilt.
"Where the dark flows, the Force guides. It would be my honor."
Tayla's shoulders relaxed slightly. She signaled her guards to make way.
"Please, follow me. The elevator is prepared."
The group entered the lift. The transparent walls pulled Kamino's deep-sea cityscape rapidly into view.
Tayla stood in the corner, her sorrow obvious even to alien eyes.
"Relax, Minister," Leon said softly. "The Empire's dealt with worse."
She took a breath.
"Mr. Kennedy… have you seen Coruscant?"
"I've read the reports."
"Then you understand my fear," she whispered. "We Kaminoans have dedicated our lives to perfecting genetics. Now something is perverting our creations. I won't let Kamino become the next Coruscant."
Chirrut's blind gaze shifted. "Fear nourishes darkness, Minister. Stay calm if you wish to see the truth."
Leon nodded. "If this gets worse, our fleet will intervene. The Empire doesn't abandon its assets."
Tayla's posture eased just a bit. "Thank you for that reassurance."
The elevator descended deep into the complex, finally stopping at the level housing the Prime Minister's command center.
As Leon stepped forward, he couldn't help but mutter inwardly—
His luck had always been a bit "special." Wherever he went, things broke.
And this time? Kamino's clone facilities were getting corrupted.
But hey… at least the ship didn't explode first.
(End of Chapter)
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