Awaken.

Cold, sterile whirrs of the orchestra haunt the air as you gaze upon the two gender, three class selection yet again. Each string plucked, each horn blasted, every meticulous arrangement give way to the being’s charred mien, its toxic animosity plaguing the environment’s atmosphere. Yet, ironically, it’s from this upsetting disposition that merely makes it more alluring, as it bares its tale for dissection. This is the side of Star Wars very few have dared to venture towards, with fewer still having ever done so today.

As for the PC side, I appreciate Aspyr getting the go-ahead on re-releasing it on Steam and GOG alongside widescreen and even Mac OS & Linux support, with a downgrade path available for those who decide to dabble in such for one reason or another, but we can still embellish it with mods like before: JC’s Minor Fixes as well as their Supermodel and Feats Fix, Head Model Fix, Prestige Saving Throws Fix, and finally Widescreen UI Fix plus Improved Widescreen Experience are all the important stuff you’ll need for your descent into KOTOR2’s underbelly, and thankfully there’s no extra steps to get this all working on the Steam release. “But what abou-” save all questions until the end, thank you. I’m unsure of how the mobile and (relatively) recent Switch port are, but once again this is part of Xbox’s backwards compatibility if you’re more concerned with playing it out-the-box instead. This is gonna be a long spiel that could’ve probably been trimmed a bit, so the TL;DR is that it’s about as epic as Paranoia Agent.

To expand on what I meant by its bold venture, it should be important to reiterate the time period this was released in, and again I’ll run through this quickly since it’s old grounds. Bioware constructed the first game as a means to combine the meat of A New Hope’s space serial escapade feel with the aesthetical and newly encroaching ideas the Prequel films were, though in a polarizing fashion, establishing. Double this with the Extended Universe reaching as far as it ever has, and it resulted in a move that paid off immensely, quickly becoming the fastest-selling Xbox title at that time in just four days and critical acclaim from critics, newcomers, and fans of the IP. Bioware, however, didn’t pick up the offer to do a followup - though James Ohlen did reveal an idea as to what they could’ve done - and instead focused on other endeavors, these experiences and certain ideas being utilized in Jade Empire, Mass Effect 1, and Dragon Age Origins. Because of this, they suggested newly formed Obsidian Entertainment, mainly containing ex-Black Isles alumni many of whom were close to Bioware, to take up the reins for a successor. Drafting up its story before the the first game had finally hit the shelves, as well as founder and CEO Feargus Urquhart sharing that lead designer and writer Chris Avellone was currently combing through everything related to the IP besides the first game, the original KOTOR graphic novels, and the original movies. Of course, blood was spilt during the course of conception staining the package’s physique, but that’s for a later discussion. What resulted from the scour and cogitation is a narrative that slowly turns into a thesis analysis about the brand’s iconographies and writing facets.

The first game popularized (and perhaps introduced, but it bears repeating that side stories were bountiful during this era) the idea of a Gray Jedi, one that isn’t wholly siding with either the Jedi or the Sith’s teachings. Nowadays multiple people have simplified the term into the defacing statement “Force-Wielding Centrists”, and understandably so considering the rampant and crass fixation this has garnered during this span. Though in fairness there is more to the ideology than that; Jolee, the progenitor painted in a Neutral alignment, still had his heart set on the belief of the Light, mentoring the MC via his life story and anecdotes meant to teach and guide their fate and affecting actions in accordance to a number of events including The Twist, as well as what comes after. Though he has his disagreements with the Jedi Council, such as his own thoughts about what love can do to a person, his major dissatisfaction from the Council comes from his trial treatment of doing/contributing to A Lot Of Dumb Shit being given a pardon, with the justification being a “hard lesson of wisdom” and “mitigating the circumstances” after the wartime, even being offered a chance of becoming a full Jedi. In his own words, that was when the Jedi had failed him. If you’ve played both games, you can see where I’m going with this: Kreia, while utilizing the same mentorship, is the inverse of Jolee in almost every way: instead of once beholding to Light, she has unburdened herself from it and the Dark entirely; instead of divulging his past as a way to teach the pupil, she surrounds herself in a wall of deceit, rarely letting herself be open for any reason whatsoever; instead of a kooky grandpa confiding and nurturing you in his own special way, it instead feels like a snide grandma is looming over you, cautiously creating a barrier mostly enclosed to not let its secret eek away, yet containing a crack little enough to allow and lure in personal dialog exchanges. Neither of them deal in absolutes, they’re beholden to their goals under the roots of what was once something they confided in, and it's from their experiences and turmoils that shape their ostentatious pupils during the course of each game’s adventure. This is also where the best part of the game is unleashed.

Since Chris Avellone was the main writer for a majority of the events within this game, it should be relayed that a lot of his penning focuses on three aspects: relics of those old and forgotten, the bruised and demoralized psyche of man, and goth chicks manifested chains that shackle someone or something down. Kreia, largely and rather blatantly attributed as Chris Avellone’s spokesperson, prattles and challenges the nature of Star Wars’ good v. evil mantra, as well as how it uses the Force as a predetermined, all-powerful, metaphysical entity. It’s pretty plain to see, really, especially since he was open about it in a blog post over on the Obsidian forum page, going as far as to detail other influences such as Ravel Puzzlewell from his prior work Planescape Torment, the ending of Chinatown, and illuminating on one draft for the game’s story that got scrapped save for a few ideas. The details are those not many have ever divulged unto: if the Force, an entity that engenders itself onto places, subjects, and even basic commodities is a constant metaphysical practice, what happens if one is just… excised from its grasp? Severed from the cord, be it willingly or from immense destruction? Echo is used in curious intent, whether it’s by caustic trauma or corroded history, the past is ever-present to all that you meet in your venture. This idea manifests in two forms, the first being that the endeavors you witness are all tied to a scar buried deep within the planet’s core: Telos, a shambling pulse for the Republic’s longshot war rebuild project that can be further driven by either the Ithorian’s Ecologism beliefs or Czerka Corp’s Economistic desires; Nar Shaddaa, borning a refugee and bounty hunting hotspot of those plagued by recent battles from the Mandalorians and the Jedi Civil War, who’s inhabitants can either be mended with charity or drove further into pain unto a bygone end, all under the watchful eye of The Exchange; Dantooine and Korriban can be revisited, and in their bombed runoff lie either a discordant community of settlers and mercs trying to breathe anew in the aftermath or a pile of corpses intoxicating and fuming the air with decrepit energy and influenced thralls from their agony; Onderon, though very much well off compared to the last planets, suffers from an internal power struggle between those that rely and compel upon a strong reliant ally, or keep their independence and sought to fend for themselves amongst political trickery and faking deals, while its old jungle moon Dxun seeps with wartime feeling, as the creatures of this land occupies much of the old battlegrounds and encampments while Mandalorians keep to themselves in training for their triumphant return. All touched by war, all feeling the wake it has left behind, an abundant amount of denizens terminating the distinction between what makes a Jedi and what makes a Sith, all serving as a practice for yourself to endure and learn from, where the reactions grow into a potent substance further in.

The other sense is one of ethnomethodology, centering its experiment around your crew and the main pieces of the story. Largely brought about by a common goal, the party this time around is of a dichotomous feeling, rarely ever trusting each other on a deeper level aside from yourself. G0-T0 and returning T3-M4, though harboring secrets, has one taken to the side of approaching means that receive the most benefit and anyway while the other keeps to himself to honor the wishes and promises of his old comrades among his new ones, hoping to one day meet them again. Bao-Dur and Mandalore - who’s not so subtly exposed as the returning Canderous - have been marred by the experiences of the Mandalorian War, yet while one seems to have deep regret for his actions despite them being necessary due to breeding and expounding hatred, the other seems to seek a return of their glory days in a front to keep themselves from fading from existence, as well as to prove useful to one they used to call a friend. Handmaiden and Visas are two trainees under a Jedi/Sith, marginalized from either being the offspring of an infidelity affair or enslaved after the vanquishing of her kind, both either reaffirmed or further drowned under the tutelage of the Male Exile, whereupon females cannot be able to recruit the Handmaiden at all. HK-47, though not having a difference within the crew, aims to figure out the newfound creations of droids under his module, belaboring his rusted assassination skills against the fresh machines that stalk everyone. Mira and Hanharr, though bounty hunters with forceful upbringings, has one seated with pervasive beneficiaries so that no one else has to face a loss of companions, or march towards brutality to fuel their revenge against those that had broke his spirit physically and mentally, a narrative that’s mechanically felt as you can only get one or the other through Light or Dark methods. The Disciple and Atton Rand are both people that seemed to have a personal history with the old Jedi order and certain clusters of them, but while one carries their memory on through historical foundings and musing, the other wants nothing to do with that anymore, seemingly harboring a deep-rooted trauma while continuously feigning acknowledgement of it. This is also where the Female Exile can vie for one or the other and in turn fuel jealous remarks, with Disciple getting the boot if you’re playing as a Male. Through this disharmony sings life that the old Ebon Hawk crew couldn’t achieve before, something that bellows stronger as it possibly can with the newly introduced Influence mechanic allowing gain of (dis)trust depending on what you do/respond to someone/something. Some have criticized this for being something that requires hyperspecific setup and rollouts to get the most out of everyone, and while true in some regard, I find that the approach that this falls under bolsters the concept of the thread being told here.

Many hardcore enthusiasts proclaim this theological exercise is about Avellone himself “hating” Star Wars, but that is fundamentally untrue. He fell in love with KOTOR1, saying that he wouldn’t have changed much of anything in it from that blog post at all, and it’s a feeling that has remained consistent since. It’s a nagging topic that I loathe discussing in relation to this game, the duology, and the brand as a whole, this position as a “deconstruction” or “subversion” of Star Wars quite simply isn’t the case. Inspect the insignias, unravel the metaphors and allegories buried beneath, and what unfolds is an extension of ideas that had come before and even after. If we pertain this to just the movies, most of them follow a character, usually our MC, being tasked with a herculean objective that confronts their predisposed ideas and mannerisms, and the falling action and aftermath that follows after. This had happened with Luke and Vader in the Originals, this had happened to Obi-Wan and Anakin when the Prequels were coming out, and it had even happened in The Last Jedi with Rey and Kylo, where the exploits challenge their faith and companionship of the people and themselves, self-identification against an armada of fascistic forces hoping to weaponize the past for arrogant pragmatisms. It had also happened with the last game’s protagonist, laying upon the meaning of the Jedi’s actions amongst their harsh yet rare punishments and stubborn ideologies, and it continues again with the form of the Exile, a being drastically altered after participating in the Mandalorian War on the side of Revan’s army. From witnessing a grand hero(ine)/villain(ess)’s rise to action and the archetypical storytelling that follows against Darth Malak’s iron fist, here you witness the consumption of power and might the Force delivers upon those who overly rely on it through the thematic bridges of Darth Sion’s intense pain and hatred being the ironic fuel of his livelihood, Darth Nihilus tossing their humanity aside to become a husk in an all-consuming quest to feed off Force energy for dominance, Atris’ feverish upholding and fixated search of Jedi and Sith teachings soon clouding her mind and inner emotion thereby dooming anyone near her, and the old Jedi Council walking away from it all and harboring their own set of opinions as to what the trail ever actually meant to them, most carry out in the background as you face each planet’s own set of dilemmas that as well tie back into the idea. This, all of this, is the embodiment of two sides of a principle that George Lucas himself was familiar with, serving as drive of not just the first movie, but the bone to Star Wars’ foundation as a whole. They serve to complement each other, not to upstage another.

With a number of analytic nerd bullshit said, I don’t want to barter this as a “you play this RPG for the story” deal, cause the inner mechanics are still quite interesting and robust to go over. The combat function of this will be quick because er… to be real, little has changed positively or negatively. You can largely copy the paragraph I wrote in my KOTOR1 review and paste it here with little deviation. Well, I suppose that wouldn’t be true? Even on Peragus Mining Facility combat has seen some small yet well needed tweaks. We have stances now, finally, making the friendly AI easier to be relied upon by giving them what you’re setting them up as and leaving them to it even if they can still be just as dumb and “awkwardly standing doing nothing” as ever. Dice rolls, modifiers, and other little influences are tuned up and/or overhauled to help alleviate fights, making it much more worthwhile to use stuff like stims, grenades, and even mines and stealth which I almost never used in the previous game across all my runs. There’s been some added Force Powers with a select few now having a utility effect for certain hazards such as Stun Droid for mines, as well as new feats making it much more fulfilling to craft different builds to slot different niches onto a member. That last aspect is less so an outright improvement of KOTOR1 and more so righting a wrong made; in 1, there weren’t that many scenarios where it felt like you could use one partner over another for a particular obstacle, be it because the skills are all simplified that it made the diversity lesser or because it just wasn’t necessary altogether. Because of all the changes being made, this has thus been ameliorated so that you do have reasons to create different strike teams, like having Atton on mine/stealth duty while Handmaiden/Mandalore take up the soldier aspect, or Visas doubling up damage and support, or Mira blasting foes away alongside her explosive wrist rockets and poisonous darts, and more. Party composition feels more alive than ever, especially now that you’re able to convert more people into Force-wielders to help give them just a bit more of an edge, even in its most fringe cases.

Stat management itself has been vastly augmented, fully embracing its RPG heritage that was dabbled with before. While you can blow through the preceding title with a meager pile of skills, all of them are now integral for one build or another, especially in regards to the newly revamped lab station and workbenches where you can craft new materials, ingredients, even some armaments to help bolster your entourage’s prowess, which also means that some PMs can be the builder of these items so long as they have met the required stats. The three Jedi classes from before - Guardian, Sentinel, and Consular - are now changed in a way so that each one isn’t necessarily stronger or weaker than the other unless you’re super specific on metagaming, on top of three new prestige classes for the Jedi/Sith side allowing even more opportunities to craft an idea that’s unique for your playthrough. If you wish, you can also choose to not wield a lightsaber at all, never hindered or besmirched for this and giving higher meaning in a roleplaying, challenging, or “fuck it we ball” sense. I opted for a Monk-style build, mainly dealing with unarmed attacks with a dash of supportive Force powers and Shock, which was pretty damn amusing. With changes to perk pickups now allowing for cross-classing, or using the Dex attribute as the leading hit chance, and regenerative health/Force capabilities comes more wriggle room to branch out from designated roles, as well as skill checks being introduced to help give your character more of an edge in information or decision making, even if some understandably prefer the more truncated and easy-to-understand mold Bioware had shared before. There’s still a smidge too much combat, and the DnD calculations are just as numb-inducing as ever, but coinciding with how this title is just as easy to break as ever, most of them at least try to be more grand in scale and evocation, such as the Two-Front Siege in Onderon, Nar Shaddaa’s companion swaps befitting a heist, Dantooine almost getting there with the Settler/Mercenary conflict, the entirety of Korriban, and others that would make this review much longer than it already is. Helping matters is that the morality aspect is less cheese-inducing, the prose for the dialog option being more sensible, acutely worded options and the aforementioned skill checks helping to instill a better sense of involved conversations. So long as you aren’t being outwardly hostile or abiding the virtuous code, you can be as sassy/sarcastic/downright goofy as you want to people, which is a godsend when going through the two titles back to back. Heck being evil’s pretty cool now since it’s at least entertaining, like getting one or both guys to kill themselves a la jumping into Shaddaa’s center hole, forging a dead salvager’s will to claim all of their possessions, being able to manipulate people’s actions into your own gain, the works. I don’t think there will ever be an RPG that will truly get the mechanical side of moralism just right, but in this case, it isn’t suffering from overzealous ambition or foolish pride… mostly.

Alright time to drop the mystic nasal-voiced YouTuber BS and talk about what I don’t like, and even find to be strict downgrades. KOTOR1’s pacing is akin to A New Hope, and 2’s with Empire Strikes Back; one’s quick and seamless transitions help goad you into following the action more succinctly, while the other’s more focused on the introspective journey and highlighting the turmoil of what has happened to the world since, even if it results in a disjointed and plodding shift. For a specific example, I love the Peragus Mining Facility introduction. It’s such a great setter for the type of mood and tone this establishes, and is also one of my favorite tutorial prologues - er… one that’s after the actual tutorial prologue anyway… - ever in a game. Aping System Shock’s scenario to tell the tale of an out of the way facility, one that’s necessary for another planet’s hope of survival and Republic’s war efforts, to the decrepit ship that is the Harbinger where Sion makes his brooding, shocking entrance that continues to play up the player’s backstory and integral slot of what has and will happen, all the meanwhile teaching the player the different tools and trades the sequel either keeps the same or changes from before, alongside a clear improvement of texture and graphical quality and even cutscene direction, is a fascinating route to take that pays off immensely. It’s such a great opening that I even spent more time here than I reasonably should have across my numerous starts, I love it that much. Telos, however, drags it down poorly. Like, the Citadel Station stuff is fine. The abundance of loading zones and the small sidequest platter makes exploration rather meek, but the overall layout is compact enough that it doesn’t get super tedious, plus we got more chances of setup within the narrative, party banter, and worldbuilding/atmosphere. However, it just doesn’t stop there, now we have to head down to the surface because we need to pick up Bao-Dur, and you get thrown into so many combat encounters with minefields and stupid AI shenanigans that it gets exhausting - and that’s before you enter a station where even MORE enemies and trap-ridden spots! What the hell happened?! How did we go from such breakneck pacing in the first game and ESPECIALLY in the opening hours of this one, to drudging through this muck of muted/heightened greens, yellows, and grays? I can’t believe Atris’ facility is one of the first instances I’ve had where I thank God that I’m being blasted by pure white in something, it’s such a refreshing scene that also includes one of the best (and initial) dialogue sequences in the entire game, just you and Atris in an endless battle of back-talks and inquisitive setup that then kickstarts the second act.

Telos isn’t the only place where the pacing is shot, but it is very much the most egregious spot. Since we’re still under Bioware’s McGuffin Structure, you’re prioritizing planets in any which way, although this time it’s more obvious as to which speck is more or less fulfilling in their breadth of content. I (and from the looks of it, most) follow the order of Nar Shaddaa -> Dxun/Onderon -> Dantooine -> Masters Of The Palace -> Korriban, which meant I had to saddle up on more exposition, more queries on key figures, and having to come to grips with party builds since that’s what NS is centered around. I do think it’s a rad place, as well as how it ties into the game’s mechanical and thematic revelations, but doing that after Telos’ slogful third adds a bit of salt to the wound, especially since this also has its last third be centered on combat. Dantooine feels utterly lacking in meat even despite the unfinished nature, being credulously absolute about its faction storyline when almost every other beat either obsequiously or holistically illuminates the inner turmoil boiling within everyone. Dxun and Korriban are… actually pretty well paced, given their stories, so no major ire there. The overall art direction and compartmentalized layout soils it as well, gone is the classification of a planet's distinct color and texture, they now typically share the same greens, greys, and yellows, mainly surrounded by hard materials and boxy structures that’re even more copy-pasted than KOTOR1’s rooms, gnawing into repetition a fair bit. There's also the difficulty, but let's be real here, if you're accustomed to CRPGs, neither of them are gonna test your mettle much, so arguing about which game is "more busted and pitifully easy" is incredibly moot - if you’re a newcomer entirely, well, prepare for some spikes early on. I have a couple of other reservations, but they’re either wholly subjective (I’m not as into Mark Griskey’s compositions as Soule’s, but it’s still pretty damn good ambiance with its own set of grand slams), comparatively minor and/or the same issue as before (still able to exhaust companion’s arcs within a few rounds of exchanges, and I find any attempt to idolize Revan’s past stratagems to be really annoying), or is tied into the absolute biggest issue and the thing this game’s known for, being unfinished.

Of all the post-Black Isle “broken” titles I’ve played, this one is the most immediate. Alpha Protocol manages to skate by freely despite its blunders, Vampire The Masquerade Bloodlines and New Vegas’ seams hold on for about two-thirds, and though little playtime was made I hear Arcanum and Temple Of Elemental Evil are on the same boat. KOTOR2, meanwhile, has its essence feel mangled right about the time you exit the first act, which in turn either lessens or worsens. While the people at Obsidian admitted their overambition bellied up the workload, LucasArts rushing it out to meet a Christmas deadline had ultimately doomed it, and with it came many attempts to stitch, alter, and overall duct-tape it all into one package. Ideas and executions cut short due to this, and it makes what could’ve been very intriguing and bombastic setpieces and events feel skewered and stilted by comparison, with the only truly whole places being in its first act, Korriban, and Dxun/Onderon. Because of this, it also means the exploration of the two umbrella thoughts - selflessness and pragmatism - are undercut due to some leaning much more to one side than another, something that likely would’ve been avoided if given a proper format pass. This all comes to a head with Malachor V, the planet where the belligerent bonds and war-torn disillusions have been born form, being so routinely mocked for being so utterly lacking in content, so disjointed in its attempts to finalize each arc for the 11-party entourage, so vapidly dull in what its attempting to tell in battle, that the ending quite literally jumpcuts to the credit crawl after the climactic battle has come to a close, several threads abruptly aborted before they could ever have a chance to show themselves. One of the more known cut pieces, M4-78, can be restored thanks to the Enhancement Project mod, but there’s a reason for a consensus of saving it for a future run; it’s boring as hell and contributes little to the grand scheme outside of a conversation with a Jedi Master who was supposed to be there, and considering most of what it showcases have been repurposed or reorganized into other areas as expressed by designer Kevin Saunders in an old forum post as well as dabbling into this in GDM’s Post-Mortem section of their April 2005 issue, this again adds to the tale of its fractured state.

There’s also the famous Restored Content Mod, some insistently declaring it’s a required install for not only its namesake, but also the numerous bugfixes it contains. And, listen, those bugfixes are indeed valuable, but the reason I held off on mentioning it til now is because the “reinserted cuts” only pertains to about 10-15% which, by the way, only majorly bandaids that last stretch, meaning you might not even get to see much if you abandon early on! Outside of that, the rest falls victim to hyperfixation, in that anything not in it must’ve clearly been from unavailable time, not from change of plans/ideas mid-development. Additional fights in a game already filled with them, awkward cuts to dialog/cutscenes that do nothing but fill up time on info you infer or already know about, rubberbanding lost scenarios half-cooked like HK-47’s assault on a Telos factory or shoving in unneeded standoffs Atton and Bao partake in during Nar Shaddaa’s rescue arc, and even a few sidequest changes such as those found with Dantooine’s Kaevee and Saedhe’s original head model. By adhering to the author's intent so strictly and rigidly, they circled back onto the same overambition that befall those before. I’m not saying the leaders behind this project are all awful, clearly they’re passionate about their goal and love, earning them all kudos from both Obsidian’s staff and Aspyr’s, but I don’t doubt that there was a reason Aspyr couldn’t be able to put this on the Switch after all. If you still want to play TSLRCM despite it all, then heed my advice: after making that your first install, go after the Tweak Pack and Community Patch to mitigate and enhance the overall flow, then install the mods from the beginning. I also recommend the Darth Sion & Male Exile mod to give him more depth than he would’ve otherwise if you weren’t playing as a female.

But well, that’s sort of the thing regarding this title, isn’t it? There’s poetic irony in a game about husks and cataclysmic trauma bearing weight for the process of healing via (dis)compassionate bonds, reinvigoration of self and faith, and confrontation about selfish desires and fallen ideals be so warped by the mandated whims of a publisher looking for big bags during the holiday, amongst the sea of mainly old blood looking to develop their own studio after their last one was seeing signs of burning down from within and above. There’s a looming, harrowing presence that follows the two studios that nurtured its being following suit, themselves having experienced cycles of discarded ideas, woeful collapse, and revitalized spirit. There’s a heartwarming sensation pulsating through the community resuscitating life into this and its predecessor in their own ways, when most everyone have either moved on or is keeping newfound exposure in limbo. There’s vindicated conceit in knowing that something I had been pouring my time onto since I was merely five, something that had already affected my mentality long before I knew about the confounding and everchanging nature of moralism, seemed to have clutched unto others and taught them much of the world as well.

At last, I now see what I’ve been looking for amongst the dead.