I remember the first time I stepped onto Bogano’s sun-drenched cliffs as Cal Kestis—a young Jedi broken by the Purge, clinging to a shattered past. That moment feels like a lifetime ago. Now, as 2026 unfolds and the promise of a third Star Wars Jedi game gleams on the horizon, I can’t help but trace the constellation of faces that have illuminated Cal’s journey. Cameron Monaghan’s quiet confirmation that a sequel is in development has rekindled a fire in the hearts of fans, but beneath the excitement lies a profound question: Which souls deserve to stand beside Cal when the credits roll again?

The Mantis has always been more than a ship; it’s a floating sanctuary where wounds were licked and laughter echoed in the darkness. But as the narrative threads of Jedi: Survivor wove tighter, some companions emerged not merely as allies, but as linchpins of an emotional galaxy. To sideline them now would be to dim the very stars that made this saga transcendental. So I ask myself, with the reverence of a player who has walked every path on Koboh and wept in the ruins of Jedha: who must return, and why? Let me guide you through the echoes of the Force.

⭐ Greez Dritus: The Beating Heart of Loyalty

Do you recall the first time Greez extended a four-fingered hand and offered Cal a place to belong? In a universe colored by betrayal, the Latero pilot has remained an unshakable anchor. He’s the cook who feeds more than bodies—he feeds hope. Yet, looking back at Jedi: Survivor, I sense that Greez’s story has only peeled back the first layer. What if a sequel dared to test his devotion? What if the narrative pushed him beyond the galley and into a crucible where he must choose between the family he’s built and something far more perilous?

I can already imagine a scene where Greez, eyes wet with determination, reminds Cal that a pilot’s loyalty isn’t measured in hyperspace jumps, but in the moments when the darkness presses closest. His character deserves that evolution—a metamorphosis from comic relief to tragic hero, if the Force wills it. Can’t you feel it? The potential for a bond so deep it reshapes Cal’s understanding of sacrifice?

🌌 Cere Junda: The Force Ghost Who Refuses to Fade

When Cere fell on the cursed ground of the ISB base, a part of my soul shattered with her. I had watched her rise from the ashes of her own guilt, a Jedi Knight who reclaimed her blade even when the galaxy told her she was nothing. But then, in the hush of Survivor’s final moments, her luminous shade appeared—not as a farewell, but as a promise. “Cal, guide her through the darkness,” she whispered.

How can a story let go of such a voice? A Force ghost is not an ending; it is a dialogue across the veil. In a sequel, Cere could become Cal’s spiritual anchor, a stern yet tender presence challenging his flirtations with the dark side. I see her appearing in moments of moral ambiguity, her blue glow a mirror reflecting what he risks becoming. To relegate Cere to memory would be a misstep—she is the conscience Star Wars so often craves.

What if her guidance is exactly what prevents Cal from becoming another Darth Vader? What if, through her, we finally witness a Jedi Master training a student beyond death itself? The very thought sends a shiver down my spine, doesn’t it you?

🌑 Kata Akuna: The Orphan Carrying a Shadow

Ah, Kata. The child of Bode Akuna, a man whose betrayal still stings like a fresh wound. When Cal cradled that dying traitor and then turned toward the frightened girl, I held my breath. The unspoken truth hung in the air: Cal would now shoulder the burden of a father’s sins by raising the daughter.

The sequel holds an extraordinary opportunity here. Kata is not a blank slate; she carries the genetic echo of a Jedi Knight who fell, and the emotional scars of watching her world collapse. Will Cal train her in the Force? The assumption thrums through the community like a heartbeat, but I yearn for something more complex. Imagine a storyline where Kata’s burgeoning abilities are tinged with the darkness she inherited—or where she struggles against the inherited suspicion of the crew.

Is she a new hope or a silent threat? The narrative could weave her into Cal’s own struggle with rage, making them mirrors of each other. Every lesson Cal imparts becomes a lesson he himself must learn. Cere’s final words weren't idle; they were a roadmap. Guide her through the darkness. And maybe, just maybe, she will guide him too.

🔥 Merrin: The Flame That Could Save or Scorch

Is there any character more electrifying than Merrin? In Jedi: Survivor, she erupted from the sidelines and claimed the center of gravity. A Nightsister who wields magick with the same ease as a lover’s touch, she is the wild card Cal never knew he needed. Their romance wasn’t a mere subplot; it was the emotional core that gave the dizzying combat a tender pulse.

But here is the truth that haunts me: love can be a Jedi’s greatest strength and most perilous vulnerability. If a sequel is to honor her, it must push that boundary to its breaking point. Picture Merrin standing between Cal and a desperate choice, her green flames licking at the edge of a dark temple. Will her love anchor him in the light, or will her passion—so fierce and unapologetic—fuel a walk down a forbidden path?

I want to see her challenge the very tenets of the Jedi Code. After all, what is a rule when the galaxy is already in chaos? Merrin’s presence isn’t just desired; it’s essential. She is the prism through which Cal’s identity will be refracted, testing whether a Jedi can love without falling.

❓ A Question for the Developers at Respawn

As I sit here, controller set aside, I realize that each of these characters—Greez, Cere, Kata, Merrin—represents a piece of Cal’s fractured soul. A sequel that side steps them risks becoming hollow spectacle. We don’t just want new planets and lightsaber stances; we want the quiet conversations aboard the Mantis, the tearful reunions, the sacrifices that leave us breathless.

So I ask the brilliant minds at Respawn Entertainment, with all the respect born from countless hours lost in their worlds: Will you give these linchpin characters the spotlight they deserve? Will you let Greez become more than a pilot, allow Cere’s ghost to haunt our decisions, mold Kata into a legacy, and let Merrin’s love burn so brightly it reshapes destiny? The years have passed, but the attachments fans have formed have only deepened. In 2026, we stand ready to embark once more—and we want to do so with the family we've bled beside.

Because in the end, a lightsaber is just a beam of light. It is the hands that wield it, and the hearts that surround it, that transform a game into a legend.