#techniiciian

Where the game began spiraling for me: Dagan’s death.

Dagan, overall?  Wasted potential.  Jesus Christ, such wasted potential.  Was he even a bad guy???  What the hell?  ( kt, idk if you’re reading this, but i’m so, so sorry for spelling your boy’s name wrong the whole time we were chatting lmfao )

Dagan and Cal wanted the same thing, and I find it so weird how the writers refused to acknowledge that.  As the player, I feel like we kinda low-key had no fucking idea why we were fighting this dude 💀  The writing didn’t exactly make it apparent, and it didn’t help that the only direction they gave was through Cal’s dialogue repeatedly telling everyone ( us, the player ) that Dagan is bad.  Ooooh, look at how angry and violent he is!  It isn’t as though he’s confused, disorientated, and absolutely furious after waking up in an entirely different era or anything.

We learn it’s nearly 200 years later for Dagan, and now he wants Tanalorr because… that was his discovery.  This’s personal.  Okay, fair.  And then what??  Well, turns out he’s also merciless, has killed other Jedi, and experienced profound betrayal ( including from a loved one ).  A’ight, should I feel sorry for him now or—?  Yeah, he’s been through some serious trauma.  But so has Cal.  Dude, go sit in a corner and think for an hour, pal, I swear you’ll feel better.

It’s actually hilarious to me that not even more information regarding Dagan’s past helps us better understand his current motivations, and that’s entirely because his motivations are: 1) fundamentally the same as Cal’s, yet also somehow completely incompatible. 2) weak.

All jokes aside, despite everything Dagan did, he never struck me as truly irredeemable.  I genuinely believe that if he’d been given time to process everything, properly, he could have been reasoned with.  But the sad reality is he never got that chance.  Feels like the second he bled his crystal, the writers decided he was a villain—because that’s the exact point at which Cal wrote him off.

Bled your crystal? Automatic bad guy.  Can’t be saved.  Gotta kill him now.  Wow, that’s not very Jedi of… anyone. But nuance be damned!  The bitch has got to die, I guess.

Never mind the fact Dagan didn’t fall completely, so to speak; Dagan was never a Sith.  No Sith eyes, no true descent into darkness.  That alone was a dead giveaway that he was still redeemable.  But sure, let’s not even try.  Forget reasoning with him and jump straight into battle because that’s totally what Jedi do.  Fight first, ask questions later.  No negotiation, no attempts to find peace, only the immediate acceptance of the so-called “inevitable.”

Dagan and Cal should’ve joined forces to face the Empire.  That would’ve been so badass.

Then, we have Bode.

Bode, the second villain, as though this game ever needed a second villain when the first one barely got enough development.

( He should’ve been DLC.  Just saying ).

From what I’ve seen, you either hate this guy or love him.  Overall, it seems a majority land in the former camp, and that alone fascinates me.  I can’t help but feel most of those players are casual Star Wars fans, surface-level enjoyers who have seen the movies before, maybe play a game or two, and move on.  ( No shade, of course.  I’m like that with other franchises, too ).  Or they just don’t like or care for him—which is actually super valid, too. 

However, the more dedicated fans who know the universe lore in detail, Bode’s entire story—including everything from the game databanks—and still hate him for his motivations?  Yeah, I’d wager these are the same people who despise Anakin for being “whiny” and “annoying” while refusing to acknowledge his mental health / trauma(s) or the years of grooming and emotional manipulation he underwent etc. Yet they worship Vader because he’s a badass Sith lord.

Like, tell me without telling me you have the emotional capacity of a baked yam.  I’m looking at you, Survivor subreddi.t.

I might be huffing copium here, but I guess too much exposure to Reddi.t would nuke anyone’s hope for humanity.

Anyway. If the writers wanted to create an anti-villain, well, there you go.  Nailed it with Bode.

Anti-villains have noble characteristics, values, and goals, but how they strive for those goals is often questionable — or downright abhorrent. Like traditional villains, anti-villains stand in the way of the hero’s goal. But unlike a traditional “bad guy,” the anti-villain isn’t necessarily evil. — Reedsy Editorial Team

Now, I’ll admit, I know I’m biased about Bode.  The fact that they introduced a South Asian character with dark skin?  That’s huge. Asian culture has been blowing up in the West for the last couple of decades, and nobody seems to like or want to even think about the existence of dark-skinned Asians. They so often get left out of the general conversation.  I also love how Bode is big and tall instead of going with the stereotype that all South Asians are tiny and short!

NOTE: I’m East Asian ( chinese-japanese mixed ) with pale-white skin and have a brother and father with “culturally unacceptable” dark skin, so yes, I’ll openly admit I feel some type of way about seeing a man like Bode in my favorite franchise.

But if I remove my biases from the picture?  I’m sorry, but Bode isn’t the bad guy the story writers desperately wanted him to be, just like how Dagan wasn’t, either.

Same shit, different character.  They really wanted you to think Bode was a no good, rotten little son of a bastard.  Look how selfish he is!  Look how he’s willing to sacrifice everything for his daughter!  What a terrible person, right?  He’s just the worst part of this game, says Reddi.t. You know, the same Reddi.t that would die on a hill for The Last of Us and their entire story concept about a father who would do anything for his adopted daughter, even if that means dooming mankind.  But sure, let’s boil Bode down to being a blind, selfish idiot.

Sorry, sorry—okay, so, many characters fucked up multiple times in this game, but I’m pretty sure if you asked the average player about Cal’s role overall, they would be like, “he tried his best!”  And yeah, I agree to a certain extent that he did, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t also make mistakes that led him to this point.

To start, Cal sucks at communication.  No two ways about it.  And I don’t mean sucking at conversation about difficult feelings.  I’m talking about Cal’s “Crew Mentality” rendering a lack of consideration for others, such as those who have nothing to do with the Jedi Order and may not want to get dragged into a fight not their own.  Just because someone joins the Rebellion doesn’t mean they’re signing up for the Jedi cause.

For all the times the game reiterates through story beats that Cal is empathetic and merciful ( Ninth Sister & Rayvis )—and yes, I believe he is—I think he actually starts lacking in this very department after a certain point.

Let’s be real, Cal never actually talked to Bode.  No one did.  He promised Bode a safe place, hyped up the idea of a peaceful future on Tanalorr, even fantasized about it with him.  Then, right at the final stretch, Cal flipped the script and brought the most dangerous aspect into the picture: the Empire.

They could’ve talked about this, sure, and I agree it might not have gone well for obvious reasons, but I’ve seen way too many people shit on Bode’s motivations.  That, and he’s a dumbass for betraying or not fessing up.  Man, try looking at it from Bode’s point of view.

The power dynamic between them is beyond skewed.  Cal had all the cards.  He’s tucked away in a secret hidden base, surrounded by powerful allies, including a close friend and Jedi master who has the knowledge and technical skills to repair the only compass.  Meanwhile, Bode had absolutely nothing.  No leverage, no backup, no safety net.  You could argue that he has only himself to blame for the impossible position he’s in, but his story isn’t that straightforward.

We don’t even discover this until later, but Bode never wanted to work for the ISB, much less answer to Commander Denvik.  After the death of his wife, Bode was just a man desperately searching for safety where there was none.  With the Empire and the Inquisitorius closing in, there were no options left.

Yes, he willingly sought help from Denvik, an Imperial.  But how could he have known that choice would ultimately enslave him?  Denvik used the safety of his daughter and even the mystery of his wife’s murderer as a chain to constantly keep him in check.  Denvik didn’t just manipulate him, he owned him.  So, trapped and with nowhere else to go, his daughter’s safety always came first.

Bode desperately wanted an out, and Cal had become his family’s ticket to freedom.  You could tell Bode was genuinely on board with the whole idea of Tanalorr.  He believed in it.  Believed in Cal.  Right up until the final battle with Dagan, when Cal blurted out, “Maybe Dagan was right.”

Also, great.  Fantastic start, buddy.  Nothing like suddenly agreeing with the “villain” you killed five seconds ago to instantly put a guy on edge.

The same villain who just used a Force Illusion to scare the living shit out of you two with realistic visions of your worst fears, to the point where Bode even said out loud, “Please.  Tell me this is real.” He later told Cal that he saw Kata, alone, stormtroopers about to break down her door. Wouldn't you think something like this would rattle a normal guy with no apparent Force connection? There were signs both for the player and Cal. Just saying.

Alright, indulge me for a second.  Put yourself in Bode’s shoes.  You’ve been working side by side with Cal, putting in real effort, all for this one goal.  And just when you finally get there, Cal takes his share and more.

Bode expecting his fair share wasn’t unreasonable; Bode thinking the reward table wouldn’t randomly change wasn’t unreasonable.

Cal didn’t give him room; he didn’t consider Bode’s thoughts and feelings at all—yet during the evening before everything went sideways, he had the wherewithal to comment on Bode seeming troubled.

Bode even acknowledged it, saying, “You know me too well, Scrapper,” which should’ve been more than enough to raise a red flag.  Hell, Bode’s characterization in the game thus far has been positive, so why not pursue the matter?  Why stop short here?  If my friend admitted they were upset for reasons they couldn’t quite articulate, then gave me a hug—something they don’t normally do—my concern would’ve shot through the roof.

But Cal just pushes back with the same responses, aka what he wants to do.  It’s a little careless to assume everyone will be on board with what all you do, if not blissfully ignorant.  Oblivious.  Naïve.  Doesn’t matter what you call it.  Cal doesn’t follow up that night, doesn’t check up on Bode despite all the signs pointing to something being wrong.  So wrong, in fact, Cal noticed it.

In hindsight, you have to wonder how badly Bode was struggling.  He was once a Jedi Shadow, later turned Imperial spy; he’s trained for all his life to conceal himself, mask his emotions, and play whatever tailored roles necessary to survive.

It’s frustrating… but honestly, not surprising.

Cal is young.  He’s grown tremendously, but he’s still just a kid at twenty-three. And I understand he isn’t anything close to a father, so I don’t expect him to fully understand Bode’s perspective as a parent at all.

It’s the lack of trying that killed me.  You don’t have to walk miles in someone’s shoes to understand where they’re coming from.

Overall, Cal exhibited tunnel vision throughout Survivor. He obsessed. Focused on what he, alone, wanted.  Something the story harped on for about two seconds, then promptly forgot after Dagan’s death.  As if Cal wasn’t still exhibiting the same problem.

PS: After the betrayal and during the pursuit, the fact Cal screams at Bode, “We fought for that together—and you're just gonna hand it to the Empire?!” is kinda crazy when you could say the same from Bode’s point of view. They fought for that together, and Cal is just gonna hand it over to the Hidden Path.

And then there’s Merrin.

So, this part isn’t so much a critique of the story itself, but more about how I feel about her in Survivor.  That said, I’ll circle back to the story stuff in a second.  First, I’ll lay my cards on the table: Merrin was easily one of the best parts of the first game.

After beating the FO on stream with Aerielle, we kinda hoped Merrin and Cal would get together.  We were low-key pulling for it, and we’re the type who dislike seeing every movie/show/game forcing romance into picture.

However, I’ve had some issues with Merrin ( and Cal ) throughout Survivor.  Things that… didn’t sit right.  For starters: the weird push-pull dynamic between her and Cal after the first kiss.  It wasn’t just awkward; it felt uncomfortable.

Then, there’s that weird dialogue exchange in the Mantis where she essentially shat on people for uprooting their entire lives in search of something better.  She had the nerve to call them “greedy” for all their “backbreaking” labor.  And those are her words, not mine!

I remember blinking at my monitor because holy shit, five years of traveling the galaxy, growing as a person, and this is where you landed??  What the fuck is going on with some of the casual dialogue they gave her??  Hello?????

Anyway, post-betrayal Merrin.  Good lord.  The way Merrin kept pushing Cal after Bode’s betrayal was… not great.

Aboard the Mantis, after touching down on Tanalorr, Cal asks Merrin what they should do—as in what they should do with Bode afterward.  This was Cal looking for guidance; he needed guidance.  Merrin’s response was exactly what you’d expect: no-mercy mindset, to pay back in spades, and “not let them down,” as she stated in-game.  She pushed for this several times.

Hell, Merrin even yelled at him while they were running towards the temple on Tanalorr, saying Bode must pay for what he’s done, that he used fatherhood simply as an excuse for betrayal and murder.  Cal had paused, seemingly uncertain and hesitant, before reasoning that they should give Bode a second chance for Kata’s sake.

This should’ve been pressed upon, not thrown in during their short trek to the temple.  Her words should’ve weighed on his moral compass.  Vengeance, even the thought of it, should’ve slammed over his head like a hammer.

There’s a key conversation between Cal and Cere in the archive.  He asks about her connection to the Force and the dark side, and Cere openly admits she still struggles with it each day, that whenever she feels weak, she thinks of Cal and Trilla and remembers she still has a choice to do better, which gives her strength.

As they close in on the temple to confront Bode, Cal talks to Merrin about his struggle with this “strange” new side to himself ( referring to the moment with Denvik when Cal lost his temper, and Merrin questioned, “Who is this?!” ), his anger towards Bode, Cere’s words of warning—like they both somehow don’t know what the fuck the dark side of the Force looks like.

Merrin responds with, “Cere won her battle with the dark side.”  Like straight up says that verbatim; I looked it up.  Cere did not overcome her darkness, and that was explicitly told to Cal / the player.

Either Merrin made some wild-ass assumptions about her late friend or isn’t aware of how the dark side can affect a Jedi.  And she doesn’t, by the way—not completely.  Merrin uses dark magick.  The magick Nightsisters utilize is rooted in darkness.  This is canon Star Wars lore, legends included.  Of course, she would have no idea about the nuances of the Force from the lens of a Jedi.

Maybe worst of all?  The scriptwriters forgot they wrote that bit with Cere.

Merrin’s response isn’t just a bad line—it undermines her role in the conversation and comes off as somewhat manipulative, especially when it follows so closely after her insistence that they must even the score and kill Bode. It almost felt like a strange platitude, like she was trying to reassure him with a “it’s okay, this happened” kind of statement, when, well, it really isn’t.  This shouldn’t be brushed off.  It should be at the forefront of their minds.

A general lack of understanding regarding the Jedi makes the most sense, but it doesn’t make the exchange any better.  Cal was clearly scared.  Why else would he bring it up?  I like Merrin a lot, but it was odd of her to so quickly brush aside his deepest fears with an inaccurate statement about something she likely may not fully grasp.

At the end of the day, I get it.  Really, I do.  Merrin was furious and grief-stricken.  I also completely understand this “avenge the lost” perspective from a Nightsister.  But Cal isn’t a Nightsister.  Cal is a Jedi.

But he’s going to listen to Merrin.  She’s one of the last people he has left.  And at this point, Cal has been drowning in grief and anger for so long that there’s no one left to pull him to shore.  No one is able to understand him as a Jedi.  Realizing this… was sad.

I love Merrin as a character, but I don’t think she’s what Cal needs right now.  Not like this—not in this aspect.  She can say these things and even act on her emotions if she wants.  All of this is super fitting for her character and as a Nightsister, but not for Cal.  The Order may be gone, but that doesn’t change who he is and what he still believes himself to be.

Only a Sith deals in absolutes.  A Sith will never concede.

Jedi are peacekeepers.  They will always seek compromise over conflict.  

The Sith see this as weakness—but that’s the difference.  A Jedi will always choose peace over violence.  Life over death.   Mercy over vengeance.

Then, there’s Cal at the end.

Look, Bode wasn’t innocent.  He wasn’t a good man.  He murdered Cordova in cold blood, stole the compass, and led the Empire straight to Cere’s archive, an act that cost hundreds of lives.

This databank entry in the game: “As they fight through the Lucrehulk, Bode realizes his feelings for Cal are now more than an act, a revelation that is fleetingly joyous, then crushingly frustrating,” is heartbreaking to me.  Bode didn’t want to betray Cal, and he struggled with this decision alone.  There are several more enlightening databank entries, and it’s all so, so tragic.  Yet it changes nothing.

At best, Bode is an anti-villain.  At worst, he’s a heartless traitor.  And yet… I can’t shake the feeling that he deserved more in the end.

I don’t want to sound overly sympathetic towards Bode, and I’m not saying the writers should have spared him.  His death was inevitable.  But the sheer cruelty from everyone—the main protagonists included—left me utterly speechless by the end of the final battle.

You can’t corner a frightened animal and expect it not to bite you.

You can’t say “she will be safe,” “it’s over,” and “lay down your weapon” and think it won’t further alarm an already panic-stricken man.  You can’t take the one thing a man cares about more than anything else in the galaxy—his anchor, his reason for living—and hold it hostage, then act surprised when he snaps in half.

You can’t take a man’s daughter and expect him to believe you won’t use her against him.  Not after Commander Denvik.  Denvik, his former colleague and handler from the Clone Wars, who reduced Bode to an indentured servant.  Who dangled the illusion of safety—with a single condition: become a weapon for the Empire.  Serve the very beast that killed your wife.

You can’t keep using a man’s daughter as a bargaining chip without him becoming hysterical.  Yet Merrin and Cal kept pulling Kata back into the fray.  As though Bode didn’t already know the stakes.  As if he didn’t already understand this might be the day he died.

Bode didn’t want his daughter to see him die.  Yet Merrin kept dragging Kata back into the danger, instead of getting her to safety.  What an unbelievably heartless role to give her.

Aerielle asked me why Merrin would do that, provoke Bode with Kata in a way that only escalated the situation. I reasoned that maybe she was scared to leave Cal for longer than necessary.  Save the kid, then jump back into the fight.  I’ve tried being charitable about this scene, but I have no words for what came next—because Bode did exactly what Merrin and Cal had been doing with Kata throughout the fight: endangering a loved one.  In this case, Merrin.

Cal’s initial shot wasn’t lethal.  Although Bode was down, bleeding out, survival wasn’t off the table.  It’s possible he could’ve made it.  They could’ve talked.  Hell, even locked him away, forced him to face what all he had done.  But Cal took one look at Merrin, recalled all of his fear and pain, and then murdered a man.

Jedi do not seek revenge.  They don’t “avenge” the fallen.  Jedi grieve, trust in the Force—and let go.  They don’t carry anger and pain and let it fester into justification.  That is the path to the Dark Side.  That is the way of the Sith.

This is the most unbecoming behavior I’ve ever seen from Cal, and it’s so sad to see him stumble this far from where he was in Fallen Order.  I can’t believe his moral compass from five years ago is stronger than his current one.

Cal chose poorly in the end.  And he has no one—and I mean no one—to tell him otherwise.  Cere and Cordova are gone.

And yes, I’m well aware he’s deeply traumatized and lacks proper Jedi training to handle these aspects of himself.  Cere tried, but five years was not enough time, and the conditions for his training weren’t exactly ideal.

I’m not saying any of this is easy because it isn’t.  But that doesn’t make it any less painful to watch.  I understand this is part of his journey.  I just wish he hadn’t taken this road.

Because what is pain but a story of mercy?

Then, there’s the final scene.

Cal saying “I almost lost myself” after doing everything a “fallen” person would do ( blind rage, force choke, threaten murder, then actually murdering someone ) is absolutely rich.  Yeah, you fell.  Did you fall completely?  No.  You touched the dark side. Dipped your toe into the chasm and felt its instantaneous pull.

I’m pretty sure if you asked a casual player, they would say Dagan fell.  I mean, Cal himself called Dagan a fallen Jedi.  They’d probably say Bode fell, too, given everything he did.  But Cal did much of the exact same shit they had, sans bleeding his crystal.

Sorry, buddy, but you’re acting just like them, and it appears you don’t even fully realize it!  Because no matter how you hack it, Bode’s death doesn’t fall into the definition of a mercy kill!

How incredibly blinded he is by grief and loss.  He’s straying far from the path, yet he still calls himself a Jedi, even after everything he’s done.  At this point, I don’t believe his concept of a Jedi is the same anymore.  His perception of the Jedi and their ideals have been irrevocably warped by his experiences.

The way I see it, Cal’s decision to murder Bode feels akin to Anakin’s slaughter of the Tuskens.

Completely different scale of violence, I know, but hear me out: the Tuskens took Anakin’s mother, the most important person in his life at the time.  His fear and anxiety built up over months, and no one listened when he tried reaching out.  They turned him away, advised him to deal with his attachments—the supposed root cause of his trepidation and paranoia.  In his eyes, Anakin lost his mother because of their indifference, because they ignored what he knew to be true, so he snapped.

Anakin lost himself; he massacred an entire Tusken village.  Afterward? He was a sobbing, broken mess.  He sought vengeance, gave in to rage, and recognized what he’d done.

Cal murdering Bode?  He justified it.  Didn’t blink twice.  That’s what unsettles me the most.  I can’t tell if this is dogshit writing or if they’re setting him up to become a so-called Gray Jedi or whatever—but even the concept of a Gray Jedi doesn’t fit in this context.  Cal committed an objectively horrible act—and he doesn’t even recognize the cruelty of his own actions.

Falling to the dark side isn’t like stepping off a cliff.  It’s a slow descent.  It’s one step at a time, each one feeling like it’s justifiable until you’re suddenly free-falling into an abyss.

In the final scene, while standing on that cliff, Cal confesses to the Force ( or Cere ) that he’s afraid of what’s ahead.  And you know what?  I believe him.  Five years of hardship didn’t thicken his skin—it thinned it.

BONUS:  also, the writers somehow failed at writing a fucking child.  You wanna tell me this lil baby toddler cried over her mom’s death for years but didn’t shed a single tear for her father?  Must be a psychopath child then ( /j ), because holy shit, you just saw your dad get beat up and murdered in front of you, and you’re chill with it.  Even warmed up to your father’s killers within two seconds.  Okay then.  Very cool.  Nice little creepy pseudo family ya got there.  Fuck that particular part of the game.  That’s just fucking weird, man.