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Unmasking the new face of Rebellion
Solo: A Star Wars Story
Writers: Lawrence & Jon Kasdan
Director: Ron Howard
Try looking at the galaxy through the mask of Enfys Nest.
The Republic has given way to the Galactic Empire, and, though the promise of a safe and secure society was proclaimed during that transition of power, this new Empire immediately began pressing its mighty foot down on the necks of every being, planet, and culture. You grew up among that oppression, raised by a proud warrior mother. She fiercely protected you and your people, until she could no longer do so. The mantle was passed to you.
As you put on her mask, making it yours, you look closer at the universe around you, and it becomes clear that this Empire is here to mine planets for resources and enslave those deemed beneath it. Proud cultures are wiped out, robust industrial centers become broken down factories for the Imperial war machine, and the blind eye of its leaders have let the criminal underworld grow brazen. The criminal syndicates have gone from planet to planet and brought nothing but death, pain, and suffering. All to make themselves stronger. You feel alone in this world.
Of course, you’d find allies.
From behind your mask, you find more and more victims and survivors all across the galaxy. The crime lords have become powerful gathering, trading, and selling your resources. It is your people dying. Working economies collapse. Once proud, sovereign people now answer to viciousness and desolation. One by one, you find these souls and pull them closer. Some were warriors. Some were artists. Some were parents. Some were children. Some were refugees. Some were criminals. But all of them now have one thing in common: they are suffering, and they don’t want to suffer anymore.
You know they need help. You need help. However, the only truth you really know is that no help is coming. The Empire doesn’t care about you. The pleas of the galaxy will never reach those high towers on Coruscant. There isn’t any cavalry coming to your rescue.
Of course, you’d fight back.
From behind your mask, you know diplomacy is dead. There is no bargaining with your oppressors. No begging, no reason, no hope. So, you have to make your own. You must rise up and take arms against your oppressors. Yet this fight cannot be mindless. It cannot be random, or futile. Your fight must be focused, with purpose, and be part of something beyond your immediate circle of influence. You must connect with something bigger. You must create a movement.
This fight will take its toll. All along the way, many beings that have followed you into the fight will fall. Their ends will not come with honor or acclaim. They will be nameless only to you and you will not have time to grieve—for you might be next. You’re going to claw, bite, and scrape until the yoke of oppression has been removed and you are free. The only other option is death.
Of course, you’d want peace.
From behind your mask, you see your rivals standing before you, but you know they aren’t the enemy. They, too, are trying to survive. Trying to win a game they all one day lose. Some want to leave but feel trapped. Some want freedom but feel they have to serve. Some feel they are scoundrels, but you sense they are good. They just don’t understand.
To them, the hyperfuel you’re fighting for represents credits and temporary protection from the crime lords they serve. It’s a score. A big hit. Something to brag about at the next cantina. To you, it represents life.
You are standing in their way, so, naturally, they see you as marauders. Their comprehension of your existence stops at what they see. The masks of you and your allies have created the image you need to survive. It is fierce, it is tribal, but it is time. You need them to know the truth.
If your movement is to grow, it needs to reach everyone’s ears. It needs to spread throughout the galaxy. You need them all to see who you really are. They need to look into the eyes of the one fighting. You are not a grizzled bounty hunter wreaking mindless havoc. You are not a world-weary treasure hunter competing for the same prize. You are not pirates with no loyalty. You are a young woman. Bright eyed and freckled. Overlooked and underestimated. You are part of a new generation that looked out across the galaxy and saw the failings of all those who came before you, claiming to protect you but only wanting power. You are part of a new generation that saw the dead and dying around you. You are part of a new generation that has gathered together, each with scars from what has been done to you, and you are shouting, “No more.”
Of course, you’d take off your mask.
You are Enfys Nest, the new face of the Rebellion, and the war has just begun.