Cloning Anakin

Obi-Wan had been with the Council for a full standard hour. No news had come, no word of what the meeting was about. The Clone Wars were raging, and it could be about any crisis which might be prevented by Kenobi and Skywalker's rare appearance on the capital world. However, Anakin just did not know its cause, and didn't like being out of the loop. He paced the sitting room outside the Council chamber, watching the speeders flash by. Finally he flopped down on a convenient couch and tried to rest.

Of course, as soon as he started to relax, the Council doors slid open.

Anakin stood up, attempting to look formal as his former Master entered the sitting room.

"Don't look so guilty." said Obi-Wan. "This meeting wasn't about Master Windu's speeder."

"Oh, Master, that was a long time ago."

"True. " Obi-Wan sat down.

"So..." Anakin let his question hang in the air for a moment.

"No, it wasn't about Initiate Tano either."

"Good," the Knight said, relief evident in his voice. He sank down onto the couch again. "So what was it about?"

"Oh, just some ridiculous idea a couple of Senators put forth. They said that the success of the clone army paves the way for greater advances. They could clone Jedi."

Anakin blinked. "Okay? That'd be great for the war effort. No battle droids could defeat an army of Jedi, not even General Grievous."

Obi-Wan stared at Anakin for a second.

Anakin didn't get it.

"They could clone you."

He still didn't appear to get it.

"They want to clone you."

"Oh." Pause. "They're not... going to, right? Do I have to let them?"

"I hope so. But we need to look at the big picture here. The metaphysical repercussions--"

"Metaphysical repercussions? Obi-Wan, we're talking about my genetic identity being stolen. I think that's a little more important than metaphysical repercussions."

Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow and gave him the Masterly Stare he'd perfected when he felt that Anakin had a particular lesson to learn. "You're not just yourself, either. You're the Chosen One."

Anakin got up and began to pace around the room. "But if they cloned me, I wouldn't be the Chosen One anymore. I'd be the Chosen...lots! How many are they planning on making?"


"Why don't they clone someone else? Mace."

"Master Windu," Obi-Wan put extra emphasis on the honorific title, "would not like that. He wants to be unique. Thus the purple lightsaber."

"Master Fisto."

"I think they'd kill each other for fun."

"Master Secura."

"The male population of the Temple would never recover."

"Master Yoda."

"I'm not even sure he has genes."


"Anakin. They want you."

There was another long, drawn out silence. Then, finally, Anakin said, "You know, it's times like this that I really hate being a hero. They can't really do this, can they?"

"No, Anakin. The Council has agreed not to release any of your... information... to anyone who may misuse it. It's too dangerous."

Anakin grinned mischievously. "Of course. The clones might, for instance, hot wire all the speeders in this hemisphere."

"Force forbid we should ever have to see the day." They continued to laugh about the idea as they walked out of the room.

Of course, what Anakin had failed to realize - and what the Council did not know - was that Padmè Amidala had Anakin's braid.