Again I have to say thanks fore all reviews, they do really make me feel that I'm doing well with this story. I decided to lighten the narrative a bit with this chapter, as the action will start to intensify in the next few. Besides this will solve any questions as to how the Elites will replace any lost soldiers. Enjoy.
A Covenant frigate exited Slipspace over the planet of Kamino. Onboard were the eighty seven females that were part of the Fleet. Only one was an Ultra, the rest were Majors and Minors. Sangheili didn't particularly like the idea of females being soldiers. They thought it a reverse of natural order. But here there was no chance of respite from battle. They had to fight, or be destroyed. Now, much to their disgust, they were being used as child bearers. In more ways than one. The Ship Master in charge of this vessel had had to put up with violent and dangerous females attempting to rip off his head. Especially after the Supreme Commander had told them what their purpose was on this planet. They were to be the mothers of an entire race, cloned out of their genetic material. The Supreme Commander had been firm, but they could all see he wasn't very happy with the decision he had to make.
"We are approaching the planet now." The Ship Master was slightly on edge ever since the females had started growling at anyone who came near them.
"What is its constitution?" One of them asked him.
"Mostly ocean. Why?" he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted that question answered.
"So we can know if we will have anything to look at while we are imprisoned upon this forsaken place." Was the bitter reply.
The Ship Master backed away very quickly. He didn't want to be the one who lost a hand to these ferocious females. They were in a rage and it had not yet abated.
"We are approaching the planets atmosphere now sir." His Navigator reported.
"Good!" the Ship Master strode away from the biting range. "This," he muttered as he got back into his grav chair, "Is the absolute last time we take passengers!"
--
Kamino was a planet that was very wet. It was covered in water, and as if that wasn't enough, it was raining most of the time! The frigate descended quickly from the sky and headed for a landing pad that was visible to them. With a ponderous grace the large ship managed to bring itself around landed as lightly as possible. After the ship had come to rest, a small hatch in the side opened and out came the troop. As they descended towards the pad, the double doors in the facility opened and a set of guards came running out to meet them. They halted and raised their blaster rifles.
"Freeze right there!"
The Elites responded as they always did, drop rolling out of sight and taking up station with plasma rifles and carbines. Neither side opened fire, but the air almost crackled with tension! The standoff , when coupled with the females already high levels of aggression could quickly spiral out of control! The Ship Master strode to the front.
"We have come to offer a commission!" he stated over the noise of the rain.
"You will leave all weapons here!"
The response was a growl from the Elites. The Ship Master turned and barked a few phrases in the language of Sangheilios. They lowered their weapons and they clattered to the deck. The Ship Master beckoned the commander of the group over to where they were standing.
"Just between the two of us, it's probably not a good idea to upset any of these females. They are all that we have for reproducing. Harm any of them and the Supreme Commander will glass your planet and set out to wreck as much galactic damage as is possible!"
The Commander eyed him with a dangerous look to his face. "Ever tried orbital bombardment on a planet made of water?"
The Ship Master replied with an equal comment. "Ever seen what plasma does to a body."
--
After a few tense trips in elevators the troop reached the bottom of the facility. The eighty seven females were all present, although any attempt to speak with them, or to engage them in conversation had the same result. A violent snap in their direction and a growl of warning. It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase, "don't touch". The Ship Master was sitting opposite the Prime Minister of Kamino, who was starting into their business discussions.
"My Supreme Commander has authorised me to conduct this venture in accordance with the general aim of reconstituting our race."
"How do you intend to do this?" the Prime Minister was intrigued. Like all others in the galaxy he had viewed the battles on Naboo with increasing unease. The aliens fought like demons and were more than capable of taking the fight to the GA with little to no hesitation. What scared him more was that they had managed to fight a larger armada with a smaller number of ships and still be victorious. They were skilled, of that there was no doubt. The fact that they were dying had not crossed his mind.
"We have in total eighty seven females in our entire fleet. This is them." He gestured behind him.
The Prime Minister was aghast. Trying to conquer a galaxy with a small fleet and a small army was bad enough, but having no way of replacing your fighters was a complete madness. "So you came here?" he finally managed.
"Yes. Due to our Supreme Commanders orders the eighty seven females are here and ready to be cloned for the continuation of our race. The Unggoy are not in the same situation. They let their females fight as well so there are at least four thousand female Grunts. But we are not so fortunate, we do not really let our women fight, these are all here because their being needed for positions aboard the fleet."
There was a low growling comment from one of the females and the Ship Master replied with a snarled comment of his own.
--
"My apologies, they are not really in favour of the idea." The Ship Master turned around.
"How many would you be needing?"
The Ship Master pulled out a small portable screen and looked at it. "We will need roughly four million strictly female clones to refurbish our race." He stated and put the data away. The Prime Minister looked back at him with a strange expression on his face. The Ship Master was not fully sure of what his expression meant, he was not fully schooled in the arts of reading others faces, but he had an inkling of what was meant.
"How many?" the Prime Minister said in a choking voice.
"Four million."
"I beg your pardon Ship Master, but four million clones is a large order. The cost alone is almost…"
"Will this be enough?" the Ship Master showed him the data with the amount they were going to pay on it.
The Prime Ministers neck shivered for a moment. "Yes that will do nicely."
As he reached to grab it, the Ship Master drew it slightly back. "How much does a single clone cost?"
"A good one? Nearly five thousand credits. A bad one would cost roughly two thousand. A medium clone would cost close to four thousand."
"Then calculate the amount for four million medium clones and deduct it from the total there."
The Prime Minister reached out and took the data. Before he could draw it back however an iron strong hand clamped down on his wrist. The Ship Master had his energy sword out, but not yet ignited.
"Do not attempt to cross us, Prime Minister, or you will find us most ungrateful!"
--
After the ship had taken off and the females had been led to their quarters the Prime Minister looked down at the credit chip he held in his hand.
16000000000!
--
"Ship Master?"
"Yes Navigator?"
"Where did we get the money to fund all of this?"
The Ship Master smiled to himself. "We took it from Fondors banks and vaults. A large portion of it was for Kaminoan ordered ships."
Definitly a different chapter to the rest. More will follow and we will return to the Supreme Commander and his crew. Bit of a teaser for the next chapter, the Hutts attack Tatooine!