The Science of Star Wars: The Scientific Facts Behind the Force, Space Travel, and More!

by Mark Brake

They used to say that a child conceived in love has a better chance of happiness. They don’t say that anymore. Not to me. I was conceived here, in the driving rain of Kamino. Churned out, among a fifth of a million other clone soldiers. Those that don’t do as they’re told, or think straight, are thought below par. “Bad batcher,” that’s me. Sick of seeing my own face, day in, day out, to the first syllable of extinction. I feel I belong to a new underclass of human. No longer determined by social class, or the color of skin. Nah, this new discrimination is all down to science. Though we shed five hundred million cells a day, I’m the same person I was yesterday. Same as all the others. Almost. Hatched by the thousand, accelerated growth in half the usual time. Combat, training, combat, training. It’s tedious. A life led just for the battlefield. The soldiers of old would have life experiences to bring into battle. Subtlety. Nuance. Empathy. Things that would make them more able to understand how enemy soldiers might think, and act. But I guess there’s so many different species in the galaxy, clone troopers would have a hard job working through all those many alien cultures anyway. Might as well shoot first, think later. Most mission tasks pit us up against droids in the Separatist army. But none of these jobs are for me. I’m no front line cannon fodder. Don’t care if it’s the orders of the Republic or the Separatists. There’s no gene for fate. When the going is good, the goo...

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