The Mandalorian Season 3 Episode 6 Confirms The New Republic's Greatest Failing

Contains spoilers for "The Mandalorian" Season 3 Episode 6, "Chapter 22: Guns for Hire"

"Chapter 22" of "The Mandalorian" takes Din Djarin (Pedro Pascal) and Bo-Katan Kryze (Katee Sackhoff) on a quest to reclaim Bo-Katan's fleet from Axe Vowes (Simon Kassianides), who's become disillusioned by her reluctance to reclaim the Darksaber from Din. However, before this meeting of Mandalorians can happen, Din and Bo-Katan must complete a side mission where the Dutchess of Plazir-15 (Lizzo) and Captain Bombardier (Jack Black) ask them to deal with a mysterious case of violent droid outbursts. 

This quest gives the dynamic protagonist duo a chance to do some light "Blade Runner"-style detective work, and provides an opportunity to keep with the running theme of Din suffering a profound defeat at the hands of an antagonist, only for Bo-Katan to bail him out at the last second. However, it also manages to stealthily confirm one of the New Republic's biggest flaws, thanks to Bombardier ... or, more specifically, his backstory. 

"Chapter 19: The Convert" revolved around the concept of the Imperial Amnesty Program, which the Republic uses to rehabilitate and reeducate former Imperials into productive members of a peaceful society. The episode already made clear that the program isn't what you'd call perfect, but it isn't until Bombardier explains his story that we find out what an abject failure the Amnesty Program in "The Mandalorian" Season 3 really is. 

From what we've seen before "Chapter 22," the Imperial Amnesty Program isn't a guaranteed success, and can even actively provide former Imperials with motivations and outright opportunities to revert back to the Dark Side. As part of the program, Penn Pershing (Omid Abtahi) is locked in a Kafkaesque reality of menial work and mind-numbing psychological evaluations, which leads him to go rogue and revert back to his (probably) well-meaning but (definitely) inadvertently villainous clone research antics. 

Meanwhile, Elia Kane (Katy M. O'Brian), the facilitator of Dr. Pershing's fate, practically radiates villainy whenever no one's looking. Since security cameras apparently aren't a thing on Coruscant, she's had no problems infiltrating the planet's command infrastructure simply by keeping up appearances. This allows her to openly hang around the Republic's higher-ups, bait fellow former Imperials like Pershing, and undermine capable veterans like Carson Teva (Paul Sun-Hyung Lee). Not only is it clear that she's working toward an unseen plan, but she also tells the doomed Pershing that she's far from alone, which implies that the rehab program's hit-and-miss rate is dubious at best.

In theory, the issues with the Amnesty Program might be chalked up to Kane simply being that good at infiltration. However, "Chapter 22" ups the ante by revealing that the Amnesty Program has also seen fit to send Captain Bombardier — a former Imperial facility planning officer himself — to the decidedly unarmed and virtually unsupervised Plazir-15 to supervise its rebuilding. What's more, he has gained at least some control of the place by marrying into nobility, which puts him in a perfect position for all sorts of shenanigans. 

Sure, Bombardier ultimately turns out to be a perfectly cool if slightly pompous guy, and the man behind the rebellious droids is actually Commissioner Helgait (Christopher Lloyd), a secret Separatist who hates the Empire and the Republic alike. Still, it wasn't for lack of trying on the Republic's part. Though this particular former Imperial just happened to be a legitimately reformed dude (as far as we know, at least), it's easy to start wondering just how many others like Bombardier the Amnesty Program has sent to work in largely unsupervised key positions around the galaxy. How many of them have also worked their way to power in some shape, form or way? How many of those people are actually Elia Kane-style power players who are simply biding their time to bring the Empire back? 

Before "Chapter 22," we knew that the Amnesty Program can be cheated. Now that we know that the supposed graduates of the program can be sent to distant locations and largely left to their own devices, it seems increasingly clear that we're looking at the New Republic's greatest individual failure we've seen so far.