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:: An ongoing episodic story of fan-fic set after Episode VI Return of the Jedi, and inspired by George Lucas' historical draft concepts ::
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Nat's thoughts on ANDOR 2
31st May 2025 |
ANDOR 2 has come and gone, and left a wake of excited fandom. For various production reasons, the second series was structured differently to the first : rather than twelve episodes over the course of a 'year', which was the case with the first series, the subsequent narrative would be told through three story arcs per 'year' leading up to Rogue One and into Episode IV : A New Hope. This meant creative solutions to telling the linear story, requiring 'plot jumps' where it's acknowledged that potentially significant events have occurred in between the audience revisiting the characters.
The story moves from Mon Mothma's daughter's wedding to the Ghorman Massacre to the flight from the Senate by Mon Mothma and leading to both the discovery of the Death Star project and the fall of Luthen Rael, the primary protagonist of the fledgling rebellion. The last episodes reveal Luthen's origins as an Imperial soldier in the early days of the Empire, rescuing a young girl whose family he had helped destroy ; the girl, angry and fired by revenge, encourages him to rebel against the Empire, and becomes his lifelong companion, his steely shop assistant, Kleya Marki.
For Cassian Andor, the audience's protagonist, we see him grow as a soldier and a leader, reconnecting briefly with his frends from Ferrix and reigniting his love for Bix Caleen. Andor conducts various missions for Luthen, including a review of the Ghorman Rebel cell and to determine why the Empire now seems so interested in their world - its geology holds vital components for its 'Death Star' project. He later returns to Ghorman to assassinate the Imperial Security officer Dedra Meero, but instead is forced to escape along with the broken parts of the Imperial Security Droid K2.
As Andor drifts away from Luthen and signs up with the larger rebel alliance, he becomes a 'bridge' between the two rebel factions. Luthen encourages him to help Mon Mothma's escape from the Senate, and lead her eventually to the growing rebel base on Yavin 4. Meanwhile on Coruscant, Dedra Meero leads a fumbled arrest against Luthen, which is intercepted by Kleya Marki ; Andor then helps rescue Kleya and get her to the safety of Yavin. With Kleya's relayed intelligence from Luthen regarding the 'Death Star' project, as well as information through Saw Guerrera's channels, Andor makes his way out to the RIngs of Kafrene, which will lead directly into the Rogue One story.
Overall I enjoyed this series, perhaps more so than the first, though that might primarily because the familiarity with the existing characters and situation meant I could 'get past' the slower pace and verbosity of the show's narrative style. The early scenes with the Chandrillan Wedding, and the initial broken rebel cell on Yavin 4, felt overly-long to the detriment of other potential subplots. A lot has been said online as to whether there should have been canonical characters re-appearing... and, to my mind, there would have been no harm in providing cameos or even minor sub-plots to characters such as Leia or Tarkin or Vader or the Emperor - the former could even have been at the Chandrillan Wedding, with a passing reference to her being the "youngest ever member of the Senate", while the latter Imperials could have been seen in meetings (for example, with Director Krennic), or in the case of Palpatine, seen in the Senate, if not with Krennic. Such brief appearances might have helped 'remind' the viewer that they were watching 'Star Wars', and that these well-known characters existed side-by-side in the world. Seeing other side characters (all be it, familiar ones) could have 'filled out' and enlarged an already large world.
Obviously the focus of the two series was on Cassian Andor and Luthen Rael ; we had passing references to other ill-fated rebel cells as well as to Saw Guerrera's cell - but perhaps by showing a few more specific missions involving these other disparate rebel groups, and that some were successful, could have helped communicate the overall resistance was widespread ; plus seeing them again later as part of the newly formed rebel alliance would have helped our understanding that many - but not all - groups were assimilated. One then wonders if there was too much singular emphasis and 'favouritism' on the handful of select characters from the first series. Certain storylines and plot set-ups could have been at least trimmed, if not for pace, then to accomodate such sub-plots.
The production values remained rich and detailed, the costumes and sets were gorgeous, the actors were focused and mesmerising. As the show progressed, the editing ramped up the tension. The slower pace and the greater focus on certain characters afforded more time to understand and empathise with them. I was especially grateful for the Luthen-Kleya flashbacks revealing how they came to be and who was the inspiration - through series one the mysterious Kleya seemed to chastise the older Luthen and even cajole and order him. Although it was never clear who ultimately originated the rebellion against the Empire it showed that perhaps Kleya carried the most emotional vengeance.
It will be interesting to see if there is a home-video release and what, if any, behind-the-scenes revelations are provided, in addition to the recent spate of interviews. I believe an 'Art of' book for the two series is scheduled to be released next year.
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| As I did with the progression of the Virtual Edition Episode X, I will post below sections of the prose for Episode XI as I draft it.... Following their subterranean race on Coruscant, Gana and Corsa Solo reunite with Benji Skywalker... |
The young Benji Skywalker flitted along the back wall of the workshop and darted between equipment. Although he cloaked himself in the Force, he didn’t want to be overtly obvious in his presence ; recognising so many species of labourers, he didn’t want to take the chance that someone could penetrate his veil.
In his mind’s eye he had seen the two burly humans he had been following disappear through a hatch recessed into the large internal hangar bay door that dominated one wall of the workshop. Across the garage floor another large, but open, bay door revealed the subterranean world of the city. At this level, there was perpetual twilight outside illuminated solely by artificial lightning. There was a fairly large clear space as a welcome apron marked out with low floor lights at the entrance.
On the repair shop floor, the boy had by now got accustomed to the noise around him, the clang of hammer on metal, the zip-whine of grinders and cutters, the pneumatic hiss of paint sprayers. Here and there were clouds of steam and flashes of sparks as welding took place. He seemed to still go unnoticed by the engineers studiously working in their select huddles.
Benji slipped between two tall pneumatic machines, and ducked under the fuselage of a sub-racer, its hull stripped bare to reveal piping and circuitry. This brought him closer to the closed bay door with the side hatch. He closed his eyes and stretched out with the Force, the cosmic energy acting like a multi-layered scanner revealing what was lay beyond the opaque door.
Benji gave an involuntary gasp : the chamber was twice the size as this workshop, with a circular private access stack offset to one side and reaching up to the sub-traffic routes above.
To his untrained eye the equipment that sat arrayed about the floor appeared to be the same sort of repair kit that could be seen on his side of the door. But what was unusual and clearly significant was the Alliance X-Wing starfighter that sat proudly in the centre, and the partially assembled A-Wing off to the side ; cluttered around both ships were hover-loaders carrying stacks of hull plating in various forms of disrepair and discolouration. Many of the spare parts – for clearly that was what they were – were torn and buckled, burned and flared, but within the assortment were parts that were in good condition and usable.
Just then, the Force pricked at his consciousness, prompting him to look behind and towards the open access.
A sub-racer, wisps of smoke curling away from its hull with flashes of sparks at their source, was coming in low some distance beyond the opening. The welcome apron lamps were now lighting up green, and any available repair engineers were moving towards it, anticipating the damage they’d have to assess.
Benji recognised the colours and shape of Jonzi’s Slipniir. Once again he stretched out with the Force and identified his cousins. Silently, projecting with the power of the Force, he called out to them.
Inside the Slipniir’s cockpit, Gana and Corsa were struggling to keep the sub-racer level. They could see the open hangar for the repair shop, and, through the Force, they were aware of the attention their arrival was bringing. Damage klaxons and flashing red lights illuminated their setting.
“So much for the quiet quiet approach,” muttered Gana.
“Keep her level, Garny, stay focused,” whispered Corsa through gritted teeth. Both children were fighting the yoke, desperate to keep the ship as level as possible.
Another damage alarm sounded on a side panel, but the kids happily ignored it. They had more pressing issues to contend with.
Corsa’s eyes briefly glazed over. “Benji ?” she whispered.
“I sense him too...” her brother confirmed. “He’s down there ! How come he’s down there ?!”
Benji’s latent strength in the Force was indeed formidable, but he was too young to construct complex telepathic sentences. Instead, into the twins’ minds came images of them popping the canopy and leaping out, whilst a commotion in the workshop would distract them.
“He wants us to leap out...” identified Gana.
“We gotta time it just right though...” his sister added.
Gana nodded. “Get ready...”
The Slipniir wobbled its way through the open hangar door, and, without grace, descended forcibly to the decking, its landing gear still stowed.
Just at that moment, the large spray guns in the nearest paint booth suddenly and noisily erupted into action, splattering its alcove wall with red, blue, and white !
The waiting assembly of engineers all turned as one to check out the commotion at the booth, whilst the hapless technician frantically tried to shut down the compressors.
Above the heads of the workmen, the canopy of the Slipniir popped open and two blurs flashed out to the right, arcing as far away as possible from the sub-racer. As the ship settled, the canopy closed back down.
Another blur, and the figures disappeared to the far wall and behind a stack of machinery. With the sub-racer now safe on the deck and out-gassing, the engineers returned their attention to the damaged ship.
The Solo twins and their Skywalker cousin embraced each other with barely audible gasps and wide eyes and equally wider grins.
“Benji, how come you’re in here ??” whispered Gana.
“Thank the Force you were !” Corsa acknowledged, and her brother nodded gratefully.
“Where’s Jonzi ?”
Benji glanced over their shoulders and between the machinery and saw the engineers in a fluster around the sub-racer trying to initially identify the damage. One technician was rolling embarkation steps towards the canopy.
“We don’t have much time,” their young cousin whispered. “She’s fine. Guys, we need to check out something!”
“What do you mean ?” replied Corsa.
“There’s something strange going on here...” he nodded his head towards the large closed hangar door on the far wall. “I sensed two Alliance starfighters in the back there. The workers who went inside had been talking about the Imperials...”
Gana shrugged. “So ?”
“It doesn’t feel right...”
“I agree,” said Corsa, “I have a bad feeling about this...”
She looked to her brother, who slowly nodded in agreement.
“We ought to get inside and check it out,” he suggested.
Just then, the technician at the sub-racer with the steps called out in confused alarm. The canopy was open wide, and he was at the top of the ladder peering down inside.
“Hey, guys, what’s going on here ?! Jonzi’s not inside ??!”
With the opportunity of a renewed distraction, Gana Solo whispered urgently. “Now’s our chance !”
The other two nodded, and, as one, another blur whisked along the back wall and settled beside a small unattended hover-crane.
“How are we going to get inside ?” asked Corsa. The side hatch embedded within the closed hangar door bore a secure access lock.
Benji closed his eyes, and used the Force to penetrate the obscure door.
“There’s someone coming,” he whispered.
The hatch slipped open, and out climbed a burly four-armed Besalisk.
“Why’d ya call us ?” he growled out loud to the engineers assembled around the Slipniir. “Sennah said she doesn’t want to be disturbed, we have an inspection going on !”
“Sorry, Macker,” responded one of the engineers from the launch decking, “but Jonzi’s racer is here, and she isn’t...”
“Argh, whaddya mean ??!” and Macker stomped past the three children and towards the Slipniir.
With the hatch still momentarily open, another blur transported the children into the back workshop. The hatch slid shut.
Inside, the children snuggled down behind a stack of oil cans and took in the view. A not dissimilar repair shop as to the first one, but this was much larger, with a circular vertical access stack in the ceiling on the far side. Equipment was arrayed all about, but in the centre were the two Alliance starfighters that Benji had identified earlier. This time, a group of technicians of various species surrounded a purple and yellow Hutt and three humans ; the latter wore unremarkable capes and ponchos over formal grey uniforms, and they stood with a poise that expected respect and obedience. A large freighter sat below the access stack.
The group was some distance away from the Jedi younglings, but they could call upon the Force to carry their words to them.
“... see your crew have done a good job, here, Sennah,” one of the caped humans was saying, “but we’re disappointed you haven’t made your quota...”
Sennah Florro threw her pudgy two-tone hands in the air, and her Huttese reply was full of exasperation.
But the Imperial shook his head. “Labour issues aren’t my concern. Governor Tagge wanted those ships by tonight.” He gestured with mock deference. “What am I going to say to him ?” he asked pityingly. “I wouldn’t want our arrangement to go to waste...”
Sennah Florro knew there was no suitable answer, and knew there was a very real implied threat.
Taking her silence as contrite agreement, the officer continued : “Load the X-Wing on to the freighter, and be quick about it. Have the A-Wing ready for the next wave. Remember, there’s no need for a functional hyperdrive.”
Sennah nodded her bulky head, and twisted to regard her deck crew. She barked several orders to them, and they scampered away. She dismissed her engineers who moved to the A-Wing and the ship plating piled high on repulsor-sleds.
The Imperial officers stepped closer to the Hutt, the lead human pulling a handful of gold PA credits from a small pouch slung across his chest.
Just then, a far hatch opened, and a second similarly-coloured Hutt slithered through, four armed guards of various species in escort with her. Sennah glanced over and recognised the newcomer as her sister. She called out a query.
Aerta Florro called back as she moved quickly across the decking, clearly agitated by something. Her eyes were slits, and she was knotting her small fingers over and over again. Off to one side, Sennah’s deck crew had begun attaching the repulsor lifts to the X-Wing, readying it to be slid across to the freighter.
As the Hutt and her escort arrived, the Imperials stepped back respectfully, though the lead officer who understood Huttese, cocked his head to the side as he followed their exchange.
Aerta’s guards flanked around her and her sister, and faced the three Imperials with suspicion.
The Hutts were babbling and growling back and forth.
The Imperial, pompous with self-righteous authority, pushed out his palm towards the two Hutts.
“Now wait a moment ! You can’t lock down this place with us in it !” He planted his feet squarely and thrust his hands on to his hips indignantly. The escort flicked their weapons towards him in response, but the Imperial ignored them with the air of sanctimonious superiority.
Aerta scowled at him and spat a reply.
“Sure, I heard you, neither of us want the Ellies here, but we can’t hang around being questioned by the likes of you either !”
Sennah growled and shifted her bulk towards him, bunching her fists. Aerta raised a placating hand towards her sister, and uttered a solution.
The Imperial nodded. “Yeah, question the circuit-side first, and then go through your workers over here. By which time, we’ll be long gone. Why would we have any connection with your Southern District rabble, anyway ?”
Sennah barked her own response, and pointed at the freighter.
The Imperial wasn’t fazed, and leaned in towards the Hutt. “Don’t push it, Sennah, know your line and don’t cross it !” He grabbed at the money pouch and threw five gold coins down on to the decking. “Take your measly gold !” he spat. “Remember, we can always look elsewhere !”
He glanced at his companions, and jerked his chin towards the freighter. “Come on ! We’ve wasted enough time here as it is !”
The three Imperials turned on their heels and strode across the hangar floor. The X-Wing was now at the base of the freighter’s loading ramp.
Aerta threw her hands in the air, and grumbled to her sister. Sennah nodded, her bulk wobbling as she did so, and barked an order to one of her sister’s escort, a Rodian, who stood nearby. The guard scampered forward and gathered up the coins in his long sucker-fingers, and dropped them into Sennah’s waiting hands. Aerta growled to her attendants and turned her bulk, slithering towards the hatch through which they had arrived.
Behind the stack of oil drums, Gana, Corsa, and Benji glanced at each other with eyes wide.
“We need to find out where that freighter is going !” whispered Gana.
Corsa nodded. “What would Imperials want with an X-Wing ?! It doesn’t make sense...”
Benji was in agreement. “We don’t have much time... Can we get across there ?” The youngster nodded with his chin. “It’s quite a distance...”
Gana pointed at some large machinery off to their left. “We can make it to that first, and then get over to the freighter.”
“If we can get inside as they load the X-Wing that will give us some cover,” his sister advised.
The three children took a breath, and then a blur marked their progress around the hangar and to the freighter.
The hover-sleds climbed the freighter’s ramp, the X-Wing juddering in synch as the repulsors below it navigated the incline. A smaller hatch above corresponding to the loading ramp pointed to the ceiling of the workshop. With their attention on guiding the large ship inside, none of the decking crew were aware of the blur slip past them and into the back of the cargo hold. The three Imperials were only just reaching the landing pad perimeter.
The children crouched in a huddle next to the crew hatch, and quickly slapped the controls. The door slid open, the children dived inside, and the hatch closed behind them.
They found themselves in a rudimentary passenger cabin comprising simple bench seats with acceleration straps draped over them ; a refreshments station and small supervisory piloting station were towards the front, next to a further hatchway.
The children ran over to the hatch and made their way through to an engineering corridor that led to another hatch. Opening this brought them into the cockpit, but to their dismay they found a wall of propulsion monitors and navi-computers instead of a conventional cockpit.
“Oh no,” groaned Gana. “It’s fully automated !”
“We can’t easily get the ship’s manifest from here,” noted Corsa. “We’ll need to access it from the station back in the cabin...”
Benji tilted his head to one side. “They’re on board...”
At that moment, the children could hear the faint sounds of chatter and laughter coming from the cabin. A few seconds later and a grinding clank resonated through the freighter as its two doors began to close.
“Oh no...” Corsa whispered.
The ship rumbled and fired as its auto-activate initiated.
“I have a bad a feeling about this...” muttered Benji, and Gana nodded in agreement.
Just then, Leia materialised, her arms folded across her white tunic, a stern expression on her face, softened only by a quizzical eyebrow awaiting answers.
The children rocked slightly as the ship lifted, its repulsors whining with the weight of the PA starfighter.
“Well ?” asked Leia. “How are you going to get out of this one ?”
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| Nathaniel Reed, 31st May 2025 |
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