Cleaning the battlefield and repairing damaged facilities took several days.
Apart from Shaak Ti, most of Solo's Jedi colleagues had already departed, taking with them all the combat-capable Clone Trooper units.
Kamino was once again "left with nothing."
The few Acclamator-class assault ships in orbit could barely scratch the hull of a single Lucrehulk-class battleship.
But Solo knew that Sidious's plan had never included "conquering Kamino" in the first place. It was safe, no need to worry.
During the Battle of Kamino, Solo's outstanding service earned him three Alpha-Class ARC Clones: ARC-15, ARC-22, and ARC-56.
The surviving ARC troopers were divided among other commanders eager to bolster their forces.
"Master, I'm going to training!"
"Go, Ahsoka!"
In a corner of the cafeteria, after finishing his meal, Solo lowered his head to study the operational documents.
After the war erupted, the Republic Army's command divided the Galactic space into twenty supersectors, each led by a consul who exercised supreme authority on behalf of the Republic.
The Republic formed twenty Sector Armies, roughly divided into the Northern Army, Southern Army, and Reserve Army clusters.
Solo belonged to the 12th Sector Army, the Aquamarine Spear, which was part of the Northern Army.
After reviewing the battle reports, his eyebrows furrowed. The frequency of conflicts had been increasing in recent days.
Just then, three figures approached him.
It was Alpha Squad, consisting of three ARC clones clad in their signature white ARC armor, still bearing traces of smoke from the Battle of Kamino.
Having fought side by side, their relationship with Solo had long transcended that of ordinary superior and subordinates, evolving into the camaraderie of fellow warriors.
"Commander," ARC-15 spoke first, "we heard Headquarters is assigning us a half-regiment of rookies?"
Solo looked up and stated firmly, "They're not pure rookies. They all participated in the Battle of Kamino and have combat experience. They're brothers of our 13th Legion."
With the war concluded, Solo's 13th Legion was replenished, and they were allocated a Venator-class Star Destroyer as a reward for their modest achievements in the conflict.
"We thought you'd be assigned more elite troops," ARC-56 muttered, his tone tinged with dissatisfaction. "You single-handedly crushed the enemy's space fleet—you earned a great victory."
"We accomplished this together," Solo said, his gaze sweeping over the three ARC Clones. He cleared his throat, his voice solemn. "One victory is not grounds for demanding special privileges. Our mission is to end the war and bring peace to the galaxy—and now is the time to fulfill that mission."
The three ARC Clones exchanged a glance and answered in unison, "Understood, Commander!"
"Let's go. We need to check on our warriors."
Solo stood up and tucked his data pad into his storage pouch.
On Platform 9, a fine mist of rain fell, pattering against the white armor of the Clones.
Standing at the edge of the platform, Solo surveyed the assembled troops. His brow furrowed as he observed the thousands of Clone Troopers standing at attention, their ranks neat but permeated by an unmistakable air of dejection. Through the Force, their emotions felt like a stagnant swamp, devoid of vitality.
"ARC-15, what's going on here?" Solo asked sternly.
ARC-15 quickly checked his data pad, his voice tinged with confusion. "Commander, all personnel assigned to the 13th Legion are present—a total of 1,772 troopers."
"Less than two thousand?" Solo's voice turned icy. "A standard Legion should have over two thousand members. This is barely half."
ARC-22 scratched the short hair at the back of his neck. "Could it be a mistake? The numbers are way off."
"It's not a mistake. We've been tricked," Solo said, his gaze fixed on distant Tipoca City. "The Kaminoans falsified the documents, inflating the unit's numbers."
Three clone commanders strode forward. A full-strength clone regiment should have 2,304 members, and a half-regiment should have 3,456. The numbers on the documents were far from accurate.
"I'll throttle that lying Kaminoan!" Solo clenched his fists, his voice thick with fury.
"Commander," ARC-15 asked, "even if you'd known they were falsifying the records, would you have refused to take the unit?"
"No," Solo shook his head. "But I'll find the person responsible for deploying this legion and toss them into the ocean off Kamino to feed the sea monsters."
The ARC warriors nodded in unison, clearly approving of this punishment.
"Attention, everyone!" Solo suddenly barked, using the Force to amplify his voice. It pierced the drizzle and echoed across the entire platform.
The clones' attention snapped to him. The low murmur of conversation ceased instantly, and thousands of pairs of brown eyes—identical to Jango Fett's—turned as one toward Solo.
A fleeting sense of astonishment rippled through the Force.
Never before had a Jedi, or any commander, addressed them in such a direct manner.
"I am Jedi Knight Solo Victor, and from this day forward, I am your commander!" Solo's voice rang with unwavering resolve. "Donovia and over seven thousand of our brothers stand with us. From this moment on, we are no longer isolated individuals, but a single, united whole!"
A ripple of movement stirred through the ranks as the Clone Troopers exchanged glances, clearly moved by his words.
The Force revealed to Solo that their attention was growing exponentially, the previous despondency gradually giving way to curiosity.
"We will march onto the battlefield together. The 13th Legion will become the iron fist that crushes the Separatists!" Solo slammed his right fist against his chestplate, the metallic clang echoing through the air. He then extended his arm in a crisp military salute.
In an instant, thousands of Clone Troopers raised their right fists in unison, striking their chestplates with practiced precision before extending their arms in identical salutes.
Rain streamed down their helmets, but nothing could douse the flames burning in their eyes.
"We're heading to Donovia next, and then—we'll crush the Separatist scum!" Solo's voice grew increasingly impassioned. "I promise you, our comrades' sacrifices will not be in vain! I demand that you fight by my side until victory! Swear this oath!"
"Fight!" Ahsoka's fervent cry echoed at the perfect moment.
Immediately after—
"Fight!"
"Fight!"
"Fight!"
The roar of thousands shook the heavens, their armored fists pounding their chests before thrusting skyward. Even the rain seemed to evaporate in the face of this overwhelming fervor.
Solo felt the surging passion and energy in the Force, a faint smile playing on his lips. He knew his speech might not rival the stirring oratory of skilled politicians, but at least he had ignited the fighting spirit in these Clone Troopers.
"ARC-22, ARC-56, organize your units and board the ships. Stay safe," Solo instructed three commanders. "Ahsoka, ARC-15, follow me."
Leading Ahsoka and an ARC warrior, Solo navigated the metallic corridors of Tipoca City, heading toward Prime Minister Lama Su's office.
This deception demands an explanation.
Outside Lama Su's office stood two highly trained Clone Trooper guards, their stances rigid and disciplined.
Though the war had subsided, the Prime Minister of the Kamino Ruling Council clearly remained wary of potential dangers.
During the last Separatist invasion, if not for Jedi Master Shaak Ti's timely rescue with her Alpha-class ARC troopers, the expensive third-generation cloning facilities would have been reduced to ashes.
In contrast, the surviving Clone Troopers were, in his eyes, merely "replaceable commodities."
As one of the few Kaminoans capable of communicating with extraterrestrial visitors, Lama Su had always been pragmatic.
Over a decade ago, he personally accepted Master Sifo-Dyas's order to cultivate a Clone Legion for the Republic, a deal that injected massive funds into Kamino's economy.
Now, the Republic's ongoing procurement kept the treasuries of this watery world overflowing.
To the Kaminoans, war was nothing more than a lucrative business.
They received payment, delivered product, and never concerned themselves with how their clients used the Clone Troopers.
The Separatist attacks had disrupted business, and Lama Su had expressed his displeasure to Shaak Ti, who could only guarantee that "such incidents would not happen again."
Inside the office, Lama Su was reviewing the losses on his data pad when the commotion outside made him frown.
Before he could contact security, the door slammed open. Solo strode in, followed by his apprentice and ARC-15. He placed his lightsaber hilt heavily on the desk, its dull thud echoing in the room.
"Prime Minister," Solo said, his tone calm yet carrying an unmistakable air of authority. "We need to talk."
He seated himself without waiting for permission, while ARC-15 stood behind him, carbine at the ready, his gaze fixed warily on Lama Su.
"Master Victor, what brings you here?" Lama Su forced himself to maintain composure, clinging to diplomatic niceties.
"Deception," Solo replied with a faint smile. "The crudest, most common kind of deception."
"I don't understand what you mean," Lama Su said, striving to keep his voice sincere, though his mind churned with turmoil.
He knew the truth could no longer be hidden.
Solo tossed his data pad onto the table. The screen lit up, displaying a comparison of the 13th Legion's roster. "The 13th Legion is officially recorded as 3,456 members, but the actual count is only 1,772—just over half. Prime Minister, are you stealing from the Republic?"
"This can't be right. It must be a statistical error," Lama Su attempted to protest, but he couldn't meet Solo's gaze.
He knew all too well that after the Battle of Kamino, most Legions were severely understaffed, some missing entire companies, others entire regiments.
Too many seasoned Clone Troopers had been lost on the battlefield, and the Republic Army had never bothered to conduct a proper headcount, relying solely on Kamino's submitted documents to allocate funding.
Through this deliberate misreporting, the Kaminoans were able to secure extra funds sufficient to cover war losses and reconstruction costs.
"You know this is true," Solo leaned forward, his voice like a physical pressure. "Once this scandal breaks, Kamino's reputation will be ruined."
Lama Su's face paled instantly. This was his greatest fear.
Though Kamino's cloning technology was unrivaled in the galaxy, losing the Republic as their largest client would have catastrophic consequences.
He turned to Solo, urgency in his eyes. "What do you want?"
"A deal," Solo replied, handing over a new data pad. "I can help you cover this up, on the condition that Kamino supplies me with sufficient clone troopers and provides the latest training equipment and weapons."
Lama Su took the data pad and carefully read the terms. His face shifted from pallor to solemnity, finally settling into a resigned expression. "These demands... they're unheard of."
"Stealing a client's property is equally unheard of," Solo said, standing up. "You're playing with fire, Prime Minister. Cooperate with me, and this 'misunderstanding' will never come to light."
Lama Su glanced nervously at Solo, then at Alpha, and finally sighed. "I believe Kamino can assist you."
"Excellent." Solo picked up his lightsaber. "Let's hope our collaboration is fruitful."
With that, he turned and left the office, followed closely by Alpha and Ahsoka.
Lama Su stared at the closed door, slumping back against his chair.
He knew he had no choice but to accept these terms.
This business was becoming increasingly complicated.
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