Star Wars: Reign of the Empire: The Mask of Fear - Alexander Freed

In my younger days, I was a massive fan of Star Wars (still am, actually). But before the prequels, we had something like fifteen years between the end of the original Trilogy with Return of the Jedi and the start of the prequel series with The Phantom Menace. Fortunately for me, George Lucas let that gap be filled with what I guess is now known as the Expanded Universe, eventually putting out a seemingly endless cavalcade of novels, comics and weird ephemera. All of these things were, kindly, of variable quality. Some were genuine blockbusters on the page, and other were...well, a limp noodle, but in the page. But I didn't care, because I was young and there were no other options, so I devoured it all whole. Eventually, the Expanded Universe was retconned out of existence when Lucas was bought out by Disney, and I haven't really thought about Star Wars outside of TV for a decade or so. This is the book I came back for, and I have to say, it really does deliver. 

Apart, perhaps, from having too many colons in its title, The Mask of Fear has a lot going for it. Set shortly after the collapse of the Galactic Republic and the formation of the Empire by the deeply malevolent Emperor Palpatine, the book follows a couple of Senators as they try, in their own ways, to figure out what they can do to navigate the new world they inhabit and mitigate the damage being done to institutions and people they hold dear. It explores the crisis of effective governance under totalitarianism, and the means by which those governments control the people in and out of power, be that through popular movements, secret police, or the quiet word in the right ear and the occasional disappearance. 

One of the protagonists here is Mon Mothma, who has a small role in the original Star Wars films, but was an absolute standout in the recent Andor as a woman of principle - albeit principle laced with pragmatism - struggling to figure out what she could do to stop a plunge into absolutism. While the Mothma of Andor has some extremely dodgy political connections indeed, the one in this book is still taking her first steps toward rebellion, still working inside the system, trading for votes and trying to understand why people don't seem to care quite as much as she does. Mothma is considered, thoughtful, occasionally afraid, willing to bridge gaps with those she personally despises in order to get the job done. Whether that's a good thing in a government being led by a megalomaniacal psychopath who can shoot lightning out of his hands has been left as something on which the reader can draw their own conclusions. That said, riding around on Mothma's shoulder demonstrates that she's trying her best, and doing what she thinks is right, and doing it well - and while she thinks the rise of more ideologically driven members of the senate is preventing them from getting their own demands met, she has her sympathies and her friends, on both sides of the aisle. Mothma's is a wolrd of backroom deals, of quiet conversations in secluded hallways, and, very occasionally, meeting informants and political partners in out of the way places which are also often horrifically dangerous. 

By contrast, there's Bail Organa from Alderaan, whose daughter, Leia, is of soooome importance in the Star Wars universe. But Bail, here, is relatively young and headstrong and determined to get things done, and he isn't at all willing to let stuff go, or compromise his principles in the name of pragmatism. He is, in fact, a giant noisy cricket in the Empire's eye, and himself readily admits that he hasn't been slapped down by now because he's just...not very effective. But Organa is doggedly persistent, and has a charisma and easy charm that Mothma thinks she lacks, and he's absolutely determined to dig into what happened to all of those Jedi that the Emperor says were traitors, because he doesn't believe a word of it. Of course, he's also being tailed by an agent of one of the many Imperial security bureaus, because he's...well, not good at this. Organa and Mothma, each in their own way, show us the best of people trying to work under an autocratic rule and find a way out, and at the same time they show us the weaknesses and humanity that make clinging to one position as the only answer untenable. Organa is too ideological to survive if he ever got hold of anything he could use, and Mothma is too much of a pragmatist to embrace the sort of violent rupture that unseating a nascent Empire would require. At least, right now. Both of them have a lot of learning and growth throughout the book. 

And I think that's the strength of the story, really. Both of them do grow. Both of them are compelx, flawed characters, working in a system which is becoming increasingly hostile to their existence. They're fighting a fight that we already know (thanks to Star Wars) that they're going to lose. But the face of the enmey, the face of a government led by a tyrant in a cloak of tradition and respectability is one made strange by familiarity. Watching the rise of "pro-Empire" popular movements which are actually astroturfed by Imperial Security, watching Security purge itself of effective members because they won't toe the line or aren't the right species, watching politicians step back from principle in the face of fear of reprisal against those they rep[resent...it's a creeping horror, and a fierce indictment of totalitarianism. This (mostly) isn't lightsabres and lasers - though there's a few in there. But it's a savagely compelling story of Star Wars for the modern era, and one that will leave you flipping pages well into the night. I'm already looking forward to the sequel.