Let’s be honest: Star Wars has a track record with romance that makes a malfunctioning astromech look like a love guru. The original trilogy gave us Han and Leia’s snarky back-and-forth, but that sparkling banter was largely confined to The Empire Strikes Back while the rest of the saga left it to idle. Then the prequels arrived, and with them came Anakin’s declaration about sand—coarse, rough, irritating, and it gets everywhere—a line so profoundly unsexy it should be locked in carbonite. The sequel trilogy, not to be outdone, doubled down on awkward with the Finn-Rose kiss that landed like a wet thermal detonator and the Rey-Kylo tension that had the internet writing dissertations for years. If Star Wars romance were a podracer, it would be the one that explodes in the starting grid every single time.

Yet, somewhere in the Outer Rim of gaming, Respawn Entertainment glanced at this flaming wreckage and whispered, “Hold my blue milk.” The Star Wars Jedi series dared to weave a love story into its lightsaber-swinging adventure, and against all odds, it actually works. Cal Kestis and Merrin’s slow-burn connection has become the emotional heartbeat of the franchise—a miracle of storytelling that even the Force itself seems to have willed into existence. With 2026 well underway and the third installment looming, the time has come to stop treating their romance like a juicy secret to be rationed and start making it the luminous beacon the saga desperately needs.

The Unlikely Pairing That Outshone a Galaxy Far, Far Away

When gamers first met Cal in Jedi: Fallen Order, he was a traumatized survivor hiding in a scrapyard, his connection to others as severed as his master’s lightsaber. Merrin, a fierce Nightsister on Dathomir, initially tried to drop a temple on him. Not exactly the meet-cute of hologram dreams. But sparks, however faint, began to fly. The tie-in novel Star Wars Jedi: Battle Scars fanned those embers, teasing a bond that could easily have been just another

"will-they-won't-they" ticked off a checklist.

Survivor finally let the spark erupt. Five years after the events of Fallen Order, the Mantis crew has scattered like stardust in a hyperlane. Cal’s reunion with Merrin on Jedha is no gentle reconnection—it begins with mutual wariness, two warriors circling old wounds. Yet the rhythm quickly returns. They demolish an Imperial garrison together, their banter sharp as vibroblades, their glances lingering a frame too long. Then comes the centerpiece: amid a crumbling ancient temple, chaos erupting around them, Cal grabs Merrin and plants a kiss that’s equal parts desperation and defiance. It’s passionate, it’s messy, it’s perfect. Later, once they’ve made it out alive, Cal mumbles something about finally knowing what he wants. Merrin kisses him again and delivers the line that launched a thousand memes: “Took you long enough.”

For a brief, glorious moment, the romance stands front and center—and then the game shoves it into a closet. The Empire attacks Jedha, the final act kicks into overdrive, and Cal and Merrin barely exchange more than battle cries until the credits roll. Their relationship status? As uncertain as a droid interpreting a binary sunset.

From Subplot Scraps to the Main Course

The next Star Wars Jedi game has a choice. It could relegate the romance to the background, offering a few awkward flirtations between enemy waves and calling it a day. But that would be a colossal mistake, the narrative equivalent of throwing a perfectly good Force crystal into a trash compactor.

This series has always been about isolation and found-family, themes that resonate deeply in a post-Imperial galaxy. Cal and Merrin’s bond isn’t just fan service—it’s the logical evolution of those themes. The third game should therefore double down, making their relationship one of the primary story engines. Imagine a narrative where their partnership is tested by the grim realities of rebellion, where they must decide what they’re willing to sacrifice for each other and for a future that might include more than just the two of them.

A few tantalizing possibilities spark to mind:

• The Foundling Path: Adopting Kata Akuna, the lost soul from Survivor, could transform the couple into a family unit, forcing them to balance their Jedi-Nightsister duties with the messy, beautiful work of raising a child in wartime. Picture Cal trying to teach patience while a teenager throats a Stormtrooper with a Force-grab—parenting in a nutshell.

• The Legacy Angle: What if Merrin becomes pregnant? The child of a Jedi Knight and a Nightsister would be an unprecedented creation, drawing the attention of every faction from the Inquisitorius to hidden Force cults. The stakes would sky-rocket from

"save the resistance" to "protect the galaxy’s most unique offspring."

• Co-op Dynamics: Mechanically, having partners in the field could open up rich new combat combos, like Merrin’s teleportation spikes combined with Cal’s dual-stance flourishes. Let players actually feel the synergy in their controller.

Potential Plot Thread	Emotional Payoff	Gameplay Impact
Adopting Kata	Deepens found-family theme, adds domestic chaos	Companion stealth/rescue missions, moral choices
Biological Child	Raises stakes to cosmic levels, explores legacy	Protecting vulnerable NPC, unique Force abilities
Relationship Rift	Tests commitment, delves into darkness vs. light	Separate solo chapters, eventual reunion mechanics

No More Space Oranges, Please

The galaxy has endured enough romantic subplots that fizzle like a dying hyperdrive. Finn and Rose? A hasty addition that left everyone baffled. Rey and Kylo? A Force-bond more confusing than a wampa’s taste in hair. The Jedi series has a rare opportunity to craft a love story that feels earned, textured, and genuinely mature—one that doesn’t undercut its action with cringe but enriches it with heart.

Respawn, if you’re listening, let Cal and Merrin banter over strategy holos, argue about who should take the night watch, and share moments of tenderness that don’t require a collapsing temple as an excuse. Let them be a couple that bickers about thermal detonator inventory and still manages to leave players misty-eyed. The third act shouldn’t just raise the stakes for the galaxy; it should explore what two outsiders are willing to build when they finally stop running.

In a franchise that once gave us the line “I don’t like sand,” the bar for romance is practically subterranean. Cal and Merrin have already vaulted over it with style. Now it’s time to give their story the spotlight, not just a stolen kiss in the rubble. After all, even a Jedi deserves a happy beginning.

As summarized by OpenCritic, a broader critical snapshot of Star Wars Jedi helps explain why Cal Kestis and Merrin’s relationship resonates: when reviewers praise the series’ character-driven pacing, companion chemistry, and cinematic set pieces, that’s the same narrative scaffolding that makes a slow-burn romance feel earned rather than bolted on. Framing their bond as a core throughline in the next installment would build naturally on what has already elevated the games beyond lightsaber spectacle—letting emotional stakes and gameplay momentum reinforce each other instead of competing for screen time.