Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

SUPPLEMENTAL DATA: THE REBEL FLEET

The Clone Wars redefined interstellar conflict, forcing us to grapple with realities we’d blessedly forgotten after generations of peace. This was, perhaps, the very worst of the wars’ crimes—they ushered in an age when mass bloodshed was no longer unthinkable, but rather an essential feature of military action.

I’ve argued that our rebel movement is not a response to the political question of the Clone Wars, and I continue to believe this; nonetheless, no one can claim that our military doctrine is not largely defined by the desire and need to do things differently. What worked in the Clone Wars cannot work again: The partnership of Jedi Knights and Kaminoan clone armies constituted a peerless weapon that no longer exists.

Consider a brigade of clone troopers served by a Jedi commander: Such a unit might penetrate a world’s orbital defenses and seize control of the entire planet while taking (and inflicting!) minimal casualties. I do not mean to understate the role of naval warfare during the last conflict, nor to denigrate the sacrifices of starship pilots and crew who were lost, but what blockade could be thorough enough to keep out a handful of determined starfighters and a single clone drop ship? (Yes, such blockades existed, and in greater numbers toward the conflict’s end, but their cost helped to fracture and bankrupt the nascent Separatist government.)

With the Clone Wars’ end, the destruction of the Jedi Order, and the decommissioning of the Kaminoan cloning facilities, the self-proclaimed Emperor and his military advisers determined that the future of warfare was in large-scale naval weaponry—in a fleet of battleships and battle stations that could atomize any enemy, whether on a planet’s surface or among the stars. They rebuilt a military not for precision strikes but for hammerblows; a military that could counter the interstellar movement of any mobile infantry that an uprising might field.

This was the vile genius of Emperor Palpatine’s plan. He knew a rebellion like ours would have no difficulty assembling a vast army of ground troops from thousands of oppressed worlds. But his stormtroopers could curtail a local uprising’s growth on any single world, and his fleets could decimate spaceborne troops during any attempted landing. No potential rebellion could dare eschew infantry altogether, but—lacking the elite support of Jedi or clones—the cost in lives would be abominable (see, for example, the affair of the Sixty-First Mobile Infantry at Ferrok Pax).

Thus, the importance of the rebel navy.

While the Empire constructed its behemoth Star Destroyers and its TIE fighter swarms, another fleet was forming in less mechanistic fashion. In the early years of what would become our Rebellion, there was little coordination among insurgent cells—yet each, on its own, understood the need to obtain starships for military strikes and transport. A retooled freighter here, augmented with illegal weapons salvaged from Separatist wrecks; a pirate corvette there, donated by a sympathetic underworld contact; a handful of starfighters, stolen in a daring raid on an Imperial base.

As insurgent factions in different sectors began to coordinate and share resources, new challenges arose. One TIE fighter is little different from another—its mechanisms and its pilots can be swapped with ease when repairs or injuries warrant. Not so with the variety of ships flying for the rebel cause. Staffing and maintaining a patchwork fleet is a task that under less expert leadership (I do not include myself!) would have, should have been impossible.

Rebel captains proposed a threefold solution to our challenge. First, an underground pipeline was to be established through which both smugglers and legitimate merchants would obtain and distribute badly needed starship parts. This distribution network would need to rival those of some of the Republic’s larger corporations to operate effectively. The assistance of former Separatist advisers would ultimately prove invaluable.

Second, pilots would be encouraged to coordinate and learn from one another and to train on as many types of ships and simulators as possible. This would not only allow skilled pilots to be placed on new vessels should their personal spacecraft be destroyed, but also prove vital for multiship engagements. As Admiral Raddus puts it, “No one wants to fly in formation with a stranger.”

Third, rebel leadership would expend whatever resources were required to obtain additional starfighter squadrons. These efforts would cost credits and lives, and the details must remain confidential for now. Nonetheless, our access to X-wing fighters in particular is testament to our success.

As our Rebellion gained visibility, new opportunities arose as well. The arrival of the Mon Calamari city-ships was a shocking (and perhaps, given our limited effectiveness against the occupation of Mon Cala, undeserved) boon, emphasizing the significance of winning the hearts of the galaxy’s civilians above all else.

Over time, leaders like Raddus and General Merrick performed a startling feat, transforming what might have amounted to a pirate armada into a genuine fighting force. We’ve long since known that our pilots, crews, and commanders can easily match the skill and bravery of their Imperial counterparts; what remains to be tested is whether our vessels can engage in a full-scale fleet battle and triumph against a technologically superior opponent.

My hope is that such a test is never needed. But if the day does come, I believe we will emerge victorious.