Star Wars has not been without controversy even from its beginning, whether it be Luke and Leia’s kiss or the destruction of Alderaan. In my column, I will strive to defend its controversy–anything from authors, ideas, or characters–to the best of my ability. My intent is to bring these issues to light and see the rationale behind them.

NJOE is now celebrating Vector Prime’s ten year anniversary with a re-creation of book club, recollections about how it was before and how it felt when one read it for the first time. Now I will broach upon the most controversial subject from Vector Prime: Chewbacca’s death.

IN DEFENSE OF CHEWIE’S DEATH

His mouth dropped. His hazel eyes widened. My boyfriend had one question for me, “How did he die?” A few moments before, I’d told him about this forum and my future column about Chewbacca’s death.

He died, saving his best friend’s beloved son. He died, shaking his fist at a doctored, dying moon. He died, changing the Star Wars fictional universe for the better. The better because it was not only necessary but honored Chewbacca and everything he stood for.

Early on in Vector Prime, we are told things have changed: Anakin and Jacen debate about the true nature of the Force, Luke strives to navigate politics and rein in his rogue Jedi, Jaina is a promising young pilot, and Mara contemplates death and motherhood. Yet within all these changes, our Star Wars family unit remains intact in light of a war-hungry race with strange technologies.

In pre-Vector Prime, no one in the Solo-Skywalker clan ever died. Blurbs always promised impending danger and inevitable doom for our beloved characters but it never came, never touched them. I wondered if I should continue to buy EU books, if I already knew the ending: villains defeated and heroes in a super-safe bubble. Chewie’s death changed that. No one was safe. You didn’t know who would be next.

The bubble had popped.

In Star by Star, the young Jedi Knights embark on a suicide mission to wipe out the voxyn queen, a beast crafted by the Vong for killing Jedi. The queen is held on a protected enemy base. It’s not a mere strike force of Vong but a strong hold. I wonder if Chewie had not died, would the Jedi’s nail-biting peril felt real. If Chewbacca could be killed, why not the Solo kids as well?

To a lesser extent, it is also seen with Jag’s disappearance. Jag is missing and presumed dead in the Dark Nest trilogy until he shows up in Legacy of the Force.

In Legacy of the Force arc, Jacen is told he must make a sacrifice. It cannot be a mere enemy because such a being would have no sentimentality to Jacen. The sacrifice had to be someone he loved; leading to debates among fans which character would die at Jacen’s hand.

In the end Legacy of the Force’s arc, it is clear that Jacen must die as well. I, as a fan, wondered if the authors would do it in light of Chewbacca, Mara Jade and Anakin Solo’s deaths. Didn’t the Solo-Skywalker clan already suffer enough?

This brings me to another question: is there too much reliance on the “threat” of character deaths or are deaths just creating more drama and not good story telling? In my opinion, character deaths should be natural, a summit of the imminent events created by good authors. Their deaths should honor the character themselves and lead to logical consequences amongst the aggrieved as we see with Chewbacca.

His death was also necessary for literary purposes but for the character themselves. As I picked up Vector Prime for my book shelf, one quote droned in my ear: “You left him.” Han’s harsh words to his son after his best friend had died—instant character development and I loved it. I didn’t love it because I wish gloom or dislike Anakin Solo but because Han felt human, becoming my surrogate for my own grief at Chewie’s death. Like Han, I wanted to go back and save him all the times I’ve re-read it. Yet I know that’s not what Chewbacca would’ve wanted.

Chewie’s death honors everything he stood for: family, life debt and sacrifice. Han saved Chewie from slavery, sacrificing his own military career for his own conscience. Chewbacca, in turn, saves a Solo (and millions of others as well) by sacrificing his own life out of love.

My boyfriend smiled, hearing how he died helping Han to the end. It was a sad smile. During that moment, it occurs to me how transcendent Chewbacca is. His death affects people to this day, in universe and out of universe.