Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [53]
“I didn’t know this was the work you did before,” Kyp said to Dorsk 81.
His friend nodded. “Yes, the computer database holds genetic blueprints of all the major family lines. When it is time to produce the next offspring, we call up the DNA strings and produce another copy of the preferred stock.”
“Each clone is usually the same,” Dorsk 80 interrupted. Kyp knew that Dorsk 81 was an anomaly, Force-sensitive against all odds, when he should have been identical to all previous incarnations of his clone pattern; but something inexplicable had changed.
Metal incubators lined row after row in banks carefully numbered and monitored where embryos were grown past the infant stage and accelerated to near adolescence, whereupon they were released and raised by their family units, trained in the duties of their genetic string.
The hissing of moving fluids, the whisper of mist generators, and the clicking of computer operators made the cloning facility a constant hive of activity, but tension grew around Dorsk 81 like a blanket of silence.
Dorsk 82 proudly led them to his own station. Flat terminal screens displayed the status of thousands of the embryo tanks. “Here is where you used to sit,” Dorsk 82 said. “Everything remains fully functional, and I have followed in our family’s footsteps—but now that you have returned, I gladly relinquish my position to you, so that I may continue my training and one day become your true successor.”
Dorsk 81 blanched. “But that isn’t why I came back. You don’t understand.” He looked to Kyp for support. “Continue in your duties at the cloning facility, Dorsk 82. I don’t intend to take them again.”
The younger clone blinked, uncomprehending. “But you must!”
Dorsk 80’s face darkened. “You are my successor, Dorsk 81. You have always known your place.”
Dorsk 81 whirled to look at his elder. “No. I am a Jedi Knight, and I must find my place—my new place.”
Kyp yearned to help his friend, to support him. But this was a personal debate, and he would only hurt things if he interfered.
Dorsk 80 looked at him sternly. “You have no choice in the matter.”
“Yes,” Dorsk 81 said, his face tilled with anguish. “Yes I do have a choice. That’s what you don’t understand.” Dorsk 81’s tear-filled eyes flicked back and forth to his younger and older versions. As Kyp watched, the expressions on all three faces were enough to break his heart.
Dorsk 81’s family brooded for the rest of the day, shunning him. Looking wretched, the cloned alien came to Kyp, who had retreated to the guest room. He felt so sorry for his friend; he could see from the stagnant life on Khomm that the others could not comprehend who Dorsk 81 was or what he had done.
Dorsk 81 sat beside Kyp. His yellow eyes were very expressive, but it took him a long moment to gather the courage to speak. “I don’t dare stay here,” he said. “Even if I try to be strong, I know that if I live on this world, in this city, with my family members … I will eventually give in. I’ll forget what it was to be a Jedi. I will fail in my vow to Master Skywalker. It’ll all wash away, and my life will vanish as a minor deviation in the history of Khomm.
“What am I to do now? It all seemed so clear to me when I became a Jedi. I was going to return to Khomm and be the guardian of this system. But this system does not need—or want—a Jedi Knight to guard them. Now what mission do I have?”
Kyp gripped Dorsk 81’s arm, feeling his heart pound. “You can come with me,” he said. “I want you to.”
Dorsk 81’s smooth face became an open window through which hope streamed like sunlight.
Kyp’s eyes narrowed, then he felt a glimmer of the old vendetta against the Empire. “We’ll take our ship and slip in to the uncharted Core Systems,