It’s time we finally be honest with ourselves. The Jedi Exile is a Black woman.
This is going to be spoiler heavy but honestly the game is going to be old enough to drive in December, there’s been time.
The Jedi Exile is the main character of Knights of the Old Republic 2 (KotOR 2), a game released in 2004. In one of the strongest narratives in the Star Wars Universe, players assume the role of an exile and veteran of the Mandalorian Wars, who in later media is named Meetra Surik.
As a note, KotOR 2 is an incomplete game. There is thankfully a restoration project that has uncovered some missing scenes, which I’d really recommend checking out if you decide to pick up this game on PC, but the incomplete game is the one that Obsidian put out, so that is the game I’m going to be looking at, with a brief mention to Star Wars: The Old Republic, which was released in 2011.
KotOR 2 is set nearly 4,000 years before the events of the prequel trilogy. The characters and conflicts we are familiar with from the cinematic universe are nonexistent but a few structures remain true. The Jedi, the Sith and the Mandalorians, who until the recent Disney+ series were best known through Boba Fett, all exist. At this point in Star Wars history, the galaxy is healing from the aftermath of two wars. The game’s plot is focused on the player’s sudden journey out of exile and into the position of savior of the galaxy.
Prior to the start of the game, Meetra Surik joins the Mandalorian Wars because she believes it’s the right thing to do. She is one of many Jedi who defected from the Order because when asked by the Republic for support, the Jedi Council replied “who all gon’ be over there?” before deciding to stay on Dantooine.
Over the course of the war, Surik becomes a general and proceeds to commit some especially heinous war crimes, namely the commissioning of a device that is used to destroy a planet. (Sidebar: how big is this galaxy that planets can just get blown to smithereens in every other storyline?) At the end of the war, the majority of the Jedi who defected decided to stay that way. Surik however returns to the Order. She’s the only one who returns in fact.
And the Council reacts by exiling her. Surik spends the next ten years in the outer rim, disconnected from the Force. We pick up with her story upon her re-entry to Republic space.
After the longest tutorial level in history, we reach a former member of the Jedi Council, who sets us on the main journey of the game. The Exile, who is regaining her connection to the Force, is tasked with gallivanting around the galaxy to scoop up three white men (and one Asian woman…who is found dead. Again, the game is incomplete but the writers also chose for Master Vash’s body to be the one found in the middle of a Sith academy) to ask them to come do their job. Once she gets them all together, they try to punish her, again. How she reacts to that is up to your play through, but if you play everything lightsided like me, she’s devastated.
To top it off, we find out that Surik’s lost connection with the Force was actually self-induced. She punished herself for her behavior. Though the Council thought it was a pretty good idea and tries to recreate that disconnect once she rounds them up.
Now you tell me that the betrayal of a system you’ve dedicated yourself to and sacrificed so much for ain’t some shit that would happen to a Black woman. She’s recruited and bamboozled into working for what she believes is the greater good (and maybe for a time, actually even was), clocks the nonsense and decides to leave. She is punished for her initial decision then later asked, by the same people who punished her, to come back and help clean up a mess.
The Council’s treatment of her mirrors the pet to threat phenomenon, a term coined by Kecia M. Thomas, wherein a Black woman quickly goes from token to trash when she begins to challenge her position within an institution. Surik challenges the Council in two ways: by throwing their ideology into question when she leaves and by pushing the boundaries of their forgiveness and understanding when she returns. Additionally, the ask that launches Surik’s storyline is similar to the rallying call given to Black women voters. Help me Oprah, your tendency to vote with the betterment of society in mind is our only hope. Black women are often tasked with the burden of righting the wrongs of entire systems. When asked to rebuild the Jedi Council or to search for Revan in the unknown regions, Surik is pushed to save society not as a hero but as someone who owes restitution to the galaxy despite the damages being caused by more than her actions alone.
The worst part, and only bit of Star Wars history I’m glad Disney prevented from being canon, is the fact that the Exile’s story ends with her being stabbed in the back, literally, by another character who later becomes an ally in the third game of this timeline, Star Wars: the Old Republic. Her force ghost then hovers around Revan, the main character of the first game who is now confirmed to be a man, for three centuries, before being set free like a chained mythical being. For a story about redemption to end in servitude, even in the afterlife, is such bullshit. And it is also very much in line with narratives that see Black women as only valuable for their labor, physically and emotionally. That is a complete dehumanization that is specific to Black women.
The Exile is seen as a tool, a particularly threatening one at that, to be wielded again and again. However, a major character in her story urges her to function outside of expectation. Kreia, your first companion turned main antagonist, rejects the idea of submitting to ideologies and wants the player to reject it as well. You have to act, she warns you at one point that “apathy is death,” but those actions don’t need to be based on a system. You can, and should, make choices that are based off of what you want, what would benefit you, regardless of anyone else. And you should question a system that wants to dictate how you behave.
In the end, that mentality is also for her own gain. She’s aware of the power you have to disconnect from the Force and wants you to destroy everyone’s connection by ripping a hole in it, believing the universe would be better without it. Although her strong critiques of the Jedi and the Sith are part of what makes this game so great, her methodology reflects white feminism and its poor treatment of women of color. Kreia tries to convince you to act in a way that she alleges will benefit both of you but which requires you to do the work. To add she’s invested in power as much, if not more so, than the destruction of the institution. Not in the traditional set up, because again she rejects that, but in the potential power lying in the structures that could exist if the status quo crumbled. You fit into that structure by being the one to unveil the new system that would put her at the top.
You don’t by the way, but her desire is still there. What can you do for me while I convince you that you’re doing it for you? It’s ironic because that same sentiment is used against the Exile within the game. She’s able to form Force bonds which, unlike their portrayal in the sequel trilogy, allow the player to influence her companions’ behavior. As a game mechanic, it was a newer aspect to role playing games. Player choices actually made an impact on the story and those around the player.
But within the narrative, this mechanic is explained as inherently negative. It’s suggested that her bonds are unnatural, that she’s manipulating people into fighting for her. The rationale is jarring when considered in comparison to a major character in the first Knights game with a similar ability. Through battle meditation, Bastila Shan is able to positively influence whole military fleets. Her power is temporary and widespread while Meetra Surik’s bonds are individually made, constantly open and seemingly unbreakable.
The biggest difference in their abilities is the Jedi Council’s framing of them. Bastila is a golden child whose ability is seen as the key to winning the Jedi Civil War. While she is also treated as a tool of sorts, she’s afforded autonomy and rank among the Jedi. The Exile’s bonds are described by the Council as parasitic, as a “wound within the force” without consideration to her own wounds and efforts to move past them.
A similar power seen as positive and useful in one woman is used to discredit the connections of another. The Council tries to negate the validity of Surik’s relationships with her companions, a group of people who fight for her, fight to protect her. The main character is left questioning if she is good enough to build genuine connections or if she is simply a tainted, destructive force. Surik is experiencing impostor syndrome times ten. While many of us experience impostor syndrome with our careers or education, Black women are not only more likely to experience it but also deal with racialized sexism that results in a greater degree of objectification. We see something similar in the Exile’s impostor syndrome that is compounded by a view that objectifies her into something monstrous.
When Meetra Surik’s name, gender and character model were all confirmed years after KotOR 2 was released, she was not defaulted as a Black woman. That choice was a lost opportunity for more representation within the Star Wars universe. It’s not to say that her story is without issue. Unfortunately, part of what makes her journey feel unique to Black women is the way in which she is routinely disrespected. And as much as I want her to be canonically Black, I wanted her to win. I wanted her to truly be redeemed, for her story to not constantly be one of sacrifice.
Despite its end, the Exile’s story is compelling because of the universality of betrayal and of a desire for redemption. It’s bittersweet then that the details of her journey could so easily be mirrored onto the stories of Black women within our universe. However, in that pairing is the power both for representation and for empathy. Consider the impact of a story where an audience can see themselves reflected in someone not like them at all. It’s through media where so many of us learn to find similarities and to understand the differences in our experiences, where we learn hold space for each other. When we think about who is allowed to be redeemed and how, about Kathleen Kennedy’s casting consistency, about the overwhelming racism in the online fandom, especially with the sequel trilogy, the impact and potential of Meetra Surik’s story stands out. All she needs is a retconned ending.
