StarCraft calls out its primary flaw wonderfully in the late game, when everyone gets drunk and has a fit for no reason. But their objections, given a voice, do seem fairly reasonable. Why free Sarah Kerrigan, they ask. What about Mengsk? Are you really fit to command anyone, Mr. Marshal?
And with a fancy speech, a stunningly obvious electrical wire, and a blatantly plagiarized rendition of Greg Edmonson's "Big Bar Fight" from the soundtrack of Firefly, Raynor sweeps it all under the table.
The problem of an unfinished storyline is not really much to gripe about yet, not with two more games on the march, but at the same time the division of StarCraft II's labor seems to have accomplished far too little in the space of one game. Questions like "What about Mengsk?" ride heavy on my mind, especially since the man seems to be a phantom now, his physical presence in a room a virtual impossibility, his influence on events sadly impotent. All of his operatives seem capable of getting along without him. Nobody in their right minds would ever listen to him. And while that brief taste of genuine revolution certainly seems to be what the storyline revolves around, it's true that the new Dominion is the old Confederacy, and what problems it has are hardly fixable by another seat of the pants ousting.
But by all means, let's have Jim and his buddies pick up the Firefly line. The country twang of the music, the small but homey ship against every planet in the galaxy, the roguish antihero, uptight straight man, vicious and clearly traitorous muscle -they've a right to all of it, as far older roguish convict space cowboys than Mal and his cancelled crew. All of this homage merely strengthens the race's identity. But some of its characters don't ascend beyond the rank of cliche, which is why nobody particularly cares what happens to Tychus Findlay, nor have any reason to remember Matt Horners name in a few months time. And Valerian, Valerian Mengsk! There was a story there, and hopefully one that we will be privy to in the years to come. I think perhaps the spread of StarCraft literature has stretched this narrative too far, bringing in too many old familiar faces that are familiar to no one and bothering not one whit to explain or justify their presence.
Wings' strength is in its gameplay, its writing designed to expose a maximum variety of interesting situations and fun engagements. But at the end we're left wanting, and with Raynor now a side character to the new Zerg show, what we are wanting may never come about in the way we want it.
