You Don't Know What You're Missing:
Rogue Squadron is just what you're
looking for
A response to Melanie Guidi’s ‘Wedge and Rogue Squadron: Enjoying Well-Deserved Popularity’
Submitted by Jennifer
Cole
8/2/99
Melanie Guidi’s recent critique of the appeal of Wedge Antilles and the Rogue Squadron novels came at what was, for me, a very opportune moment. I have been a Star Wars fan for as long as Star Wars has existed, and I have read Star Wars novels for as long as they have been published. Until recently, however, I had concentrated on the novels featuring Han, Luke, and Leia, occasionally dipping into the Young Jedi novels out of curiosity, but for the most part leaving Rogue Squadron alone.
The reasons for this were simple. I assumed, wrongly as I later found, that they were "boys’ books," more akin to the gung-ho exploits of Biggles or 633 Squadron than the fully rounded, space opera mysticism that I loved so much about Star Wars. I had, however, long developed a fondness for Wedge, and I agree completely with Melanie’s evaluation that it is Wedge’s remaining in the background that draws people to him. Wedge is so interesting because he is mysterious and yet we know there is no mystery about him. He is always there, the face at every party that no one ever introduces you to. Wedge, one can’t help but feel, is always doing the work behind the scenes, simply getting his head down and getting on with ensuring the job is done. While Luke and Leia take time out from the Rebellion to rescue Han from Jabba, have a few beers with the Ewoks, or try to turn Darth Vader back to the path of righteousness, Wedge is the one making sure that the Death Star gets taken out. Again.
The fans were filling in the blanks of Wedge’s background long before the official sources got in on the act, and part of the appeal was the size of those blanks. We knew pretty much everything there was to know about the other characters – we’d followed Luke, Leia, and Han’s adventures intimately for years, we knew as much about them as they knew about themselves, and often more. Wedge, on the other hand, was a blank slate to be developed. Who he was, where he came from, and where he was going were largely areas yet to be developed. You don’t have to be in Star Wars fandom for long to realize that Wedge is as much a part of the Star Wars universe as the Force itself. No matter what’s going on, he’s always there. It might only be for a paragraph in the middle of an entire novel, he might only have a few lines in a 300-page script, but Star Wars isn’t Star Wars without Wedge Antilles.
This may have had something to do with my lack of interest in trying the Rogue Squadron novels. I liked Wedge as a supporting character, and maybe I didn’t want to break that mystique. If Wedge is interesting simply because we don’t know what he does when he climbs out of the cockpit of his X-Wing, why find out? After all, there he was in nearly all the novels, doing what he does so well – standing in the background and shooting down the Empire when required.
Then I was handed Rogue Squadron to read for review purposes. Maybe it was because it came just as I had finished reading, in quick succession, "The New Rebellion" and "Specter of the Past", both books so bogged down in political infighting that the glorious dogfights of the movies had never seemed so far away, but Rogue Squadron seemed like a breath of fresh air in what had become, without my even realizing it, a somewhat stale universe. I enjoyed it far, far more than I had expected I would.
No doubt a good deal of the credit has to go to author Michael Stackpole, who wove an engaging tale with a well-rounded cast of characters that immediately drew the reader in, whetting our appetites. After just a few chapters, I wanted to know more about Corran Horn and Tycho Celchu, wanted to go back and search out their obscure previous adventures and, more to the point, learn what happened to them next. Yes, there were the gung-ho heroics I had expected, but they were sandwiched between so much more. Wedge and Corran essentially gossiping about Han Solo, Corran’s disapproval (and even disgust) at the life Han had led offering a new perspective, a fresh point of view. Wedge and Tycho reflecting on the transition period they were in – a new era when the Rebel Alliance is becoming the legitimate government, still far away from the bureaucratic dinosaur it will become in the later novels. When Han and Leia reminisce about the "good old days" when they shot at their enemies rather that trying to negotiate with them, this is the life they are reminiscing about, forgetting that on the front lines of the New Republic, men and women are still living it. And that, more than anything, is what I loved so much about this book. Wedge is still doing what we love about him so much, following orders (mostly) and getting his hands dirty winning the battles that will ensure the good guys never lose the war. And all the time knowing that someone, somewhere, will always be a bigger hero than him. This is what makes him such a survivor, such a damn good trooper in a war that has too much space for heroes. Wedge Antilles is the man who destroyed the second Death Star, an act that would have ensured the Rebellion’s victory no matter what else had happened. In the most crucial battle of the Rebellion’s history – if not the Galaxy’s – Luke was following his own agenda on a basically selfish mission that had no bearing on the bigger picture, and made no contribution to the final outcome. Meanwhile, Wedge was doing what he always did, getting the job done without shouting about it. Long may his adventures continue, he more than deserves the attention – it’s long overdue.
(Jennifer Cole makes her living editing the weekly Official Star Trek Fact Files, sold in the UK and across the world, but her fangirl heart lies with Star Wars and American comics. She has never quite recovered from the shock Harrison Ford had on her seven-year-old hormones, but regular rewatchings of the Star Wars saga have proved to be a helpful coping strategy.)