Star Trek and the Changing Face of Eugenics

First airing February 16, 1967, the original series episode "Space Seed" introduced the genetic superman Khan Noonien Singh, who would appear twice more in the franchise (1982's Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan and 2013's Star Trek Into Darkness).  Khan was described as a product of the Eugenics Wars, a still-nebulous concept in canon material that was supposed to take place somewhere in the 1990s.  In 1967, the term "eugenics" was broadly understood to have Nazi connotations, although it was a concept widely shared in the United States as well.  Eugenics was the idea that a "perfect" human could be engineered through selective breeding.  In Nazi hands it led to a genocidal purge of undesired ethnicities for a "pure" nation.  

Khan was presented as a monster incapable of reconciling his existence with those he found inferior, which was basically everyone else except the goons sent into the same exile as himself.  When Kirk finds his ship coasting in space and revives him, Khan attempts a coup of the Enterprise and is subsequently sent into a second exile, and an attempt at revenge.  

The extent of Khan's genetic engineering was physical as well as mental, so that he represented the idea of perfecting both by bypassing chance, willful education and fitness efforts.  In doing so, he developed a level of arrogance he couldn't see past, what Kirk eventually called two-dimensional thinking.  By taking his abilities for granted, Khan never considered that there was a chance anyone without his advantages could be his equal, much less superior.

In Star Trek lore, his existence and evident threat led the Federation to ban genetic engineering.  The franchise didn't seriously revisit the idea until the Deep Space Nine episode "Doctor Bashir, I Presume?" in 1997, a full thirty years after "Space Seed."  In it we learn that Doctor Bashir, a member of the regular cast since the first episode of the series, has been genetically engineered the whole time.  To look at him (a complete inverse of Khan physically, a beanstalk of a man), you would certainly have never guessed, and since this was a fifth season episode, nothing the writers had planned until plotting that episode.  Bashir had always had a healthy ego from his introduction on, a recent graduate of Starfleet medical school who boasted of his high academic achievements and selection of the assignment to a station at the edge of Federation space meant as a challenge he didn't think he'd find elsewhere.  The episode explains how his parents chose to modify his genes after finding themselves with a sickly child of no apparent prospects.

Now, no one will ever argue Julian Bashir to be the second coming of Khan.  Starfleet ends up making a special exception for him (he would otherwise have lost his career), instead punishing his father for making the decision in the first place.  For the rest of the series, the only real effect of the revelation is two episodes where he spends time with other products of recent genetic engineering, misfits whose outcomes weren't nearly as fortunate as his own.

The next time the franchise revisits the concept is the trilogy of Enterprise episodes from 2004, "Borderland," "Cold Station 12," and "The Augments," in which we learn the ancestor of Data's creator, Arik Soong, was inspired by the original Khan project in his work, and in fact nurtured the genetic material left over from it and even raised some of the results to adulthood.  (In later episodes, the series finally answers the question of how Klingons in the original series had such smooth foreheads; the Empire attempted to reverse engineer this work, and it...backfired.)  When Soong is repeatedly stymied, he eventually decides to pursues robotics instead.

Which brings us to the modern era of Star Trek programming and the reason I'm writing this.  Genetic engineering has played a prominent role in three series from this period, Picard, Strange New Worlds, and Prodigy.  We'll start with Picard, as it most resembles the franchise's historic stance on eugenics.

The second season of Picard features another member of the Soong lineage, Adam Soong, whose efforts in this field of science are meant to create a daughter for himself.  By this time the Eugenics Wars are long over, Khan has been put into cryostasis and shot into space, WWIII has yet to occur, and of course the Soongs have begun their long journey toward the creation of Data, one of the main cast members of The Next Generation, an android with an innovative positronic net powering him.  Adam Soong, although a renowned member of the scientific community, keeps his greatest work to himself, and has failed a number of times at creating a daughter of unlimited viability, genetic flaws continually cropping up and leading to premature death or debilitating conditions.  When we catch up with him, his daughter Kore has no idea she was created in a lab, although she certainly knows she can't stray far from home, since her skin can't withstand UV rays.  Eventually she runs away from home, and the Soongs continually evolve their pursuits.  Adam and Arik Soong are clearly presented as villains, although Kore, like Bashir before her, is an unwitting victim and sympathetic protagonist.  

The same can be said for Strange New Worlds and Prodigy's contributions.  Strange New Worlds gives us Number One, Una Chin-Riley, who has been hiding her Illyrian heritage since Illyrians maintain a regular practice of genetic engineering.  Prodigy's lead character is Dal, and in the 2022 episode "Masquerade" we learn that he's entirely the product of genetic engineering.

At the end of its first season, Strange New Worlds positions Chin-Riley in the same kind of peril Bashir faced when finally exposed, just as Prodigy finds Starfleet forced to reconcile Dal's existence with its ban.  Chin-Riley's case is in the past, before Khan is even revived, while Dal's is after Bashir's.  It seems recent creators are increasingly interested in challenging the moral qualms of the whole concept.  So is this a problem?

I think so.  It's one thing to argue, as Bashir does, that he had no say in what happened to him.  After all, although he knowingly lied throughout his Starfleet career, he didn't think he was otherwise responsible for conditions that ended up violating the ban.  Dal's case is different.  Although a character in a show geared toward kids and constantly presented as someone who just wants to fit in (and therefore it would be tough to come to any other conclusion), it becomes problematic that he's yet another unwitting victim we're asked to accept.  As I write this, the second season of Strange New Worlds has yet to premiere, so there's no way to know if and how Chin-Riley's case is handled, but it seems equally unlikely that she will end up unabsolved, whether by Starfleet or her crew.

I'm not making an argument against modern Star Trek, or these characters.  What I'm saying, here, is that it's a curious development in a franchise that has long been a champion of reason, spending the entire original series questioning basically everything, even the most precious indulgences of the counterculture that has long since been assumed to most closely align with its utopian ideals.  The franchise has also become a beacon of acceptance, in increasingly overt ways, and yet...this might be a step too far.  What some would call inevitable scientific progress still represents a Doctor Bashir who asks his parents, finally, why he wasn't good enough for them as he originally was.  No subsequent depiction of genetic engineering in the franchise has voiced such a thought, nor the cautionary tale (which is the foundation of the franchise) of Khan and the generation of augments that followed him.

This is a dangerous road to travel.  My hope is that someone at the controls realizes this at some point.  We don't need a Khan to point this out.  We certainly don't need another Hitler.  Star Trek is always at its best when it depicts humanity's efforts to better itself.  Through more conventional means.  Moral means.

Star Trek Arcs XII: Section 31

One of Deep Space Nine’s shorter and yet most impactful arcs involved the introduction of Section 31, a secretive intelligence organization within Starfleet that played by its own rules and was alone convinced of the good it did.

In the sixth season episode “Inquisition,” Luther Sloan attempts to recruit Julian Bashir, who despite a long friendship with the former Cardassian spy Garak can’t bring himself to condone Section 31’s existence, which to this point had been largely unknown outside of its own circles.

In the seventh season episode “Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges” (in times of war the law falls silent) Bashir again runs into Sloan, realizing that Starfleet, in its increasing desperation during the Dominion War, has knowingly embraced Section 31’s questionable tactics. Fans as eagerly embraced this second spotlight as they had the first, both serving as pinnacle demonstrations of the morally gray areas so often associated with the series.

Late that season, Bashir confronts Sloan directly in “Extreme Measures” when he realizes Section 31 was responsible for a genocidal plague inflicted on the Founders that has inadvertently (?) also infected Odo.

Section 31 shows up in the fourth season of Enterprise, with the revelation that Malcolm Reed once worked for Section 31. Captain Archer takes a dim view on the revelation when Reed struggles to come clean in “Affliction”/“Divergence,” in which we meet his former handler Harris.

The idea is reprised on a far grander stage in Star Trek Into Darkness, in which we learn Admiral Marcus is also a part of Section 31, and thinks of nothing to use it in an attempt to launch all-out war with the Klingons.

Section 31 factors heavily into the serialized storytelling in the second season of Discovery, which features Agent Leland and new recruits Mirror Georgiou and Ash Tyler. There remains in development a full Section 31 spin-off which at one time was speculated to feature Georgiou and Tyler, although developments since that and the third season have perhaps complicated things.

With the movie appearance and heavy presence in and potential spin-off from Discovery, Section 31 has turned into as significant a development of modern Star Trek as anything else you could name. A certain step away from the original hopeful vision of the future Gene Roddenberry envisioned, Section 31 instead of a contradiction often serves to distinguish the enduring morals of the main characters. When Bashir or Kirk reject its tactics, we cheer them as heroes. When Mirror Georgiou embraces Section 31, we’re not surprised. When Tyler finds a temporary refuge in his crazy life, we can even begin to see it in a different light. In modern Star Trek, too, is the ability to see the good even in the bad (a legacy dating all the way back to “Balance of Terror”).

Star Trek Arcs XI: The Dominion War

Now, to this day when Star Trek fans think of extended arcs they really have just one in mind, and that’s Deep Space Nine’s Dominion War arc. 

The war itself doesn’t begin until the end of the fifth season, and I’ve broken it down to thirty-six key episodes (six of them consisting of two-part episodes with the same name, although the series features multiple two-part episodes with separate titles, including in the war arc). Since this one’s so long I won’t waste much time with preamble or dwell much on any one installment, instead a brief note on what it contributes to the arc.

At the end of the second season, “The Jem’Hadar” at last let’s us see the Dominion after many previous references to what dominates the other side of the wormhole introduced in the first episode, the Gamma Quadrant equivalent to the Federation. It ends with a big swerve when we learn that the Jem’Hadar are mere foot soldiers, and that they are controlled in part by the Vorta.

The third season begins with the two-part “The Search,” which serves the dual purpose of exploring the initial ramifications of contact with the Dominion as well as revealing the truth of shapeshifting Odo’s origins: he hails from the Founders. As in, Founders of the Dominion…

In “Improbable Cause”/“The Die Is Cast,” factions within the Romulan Star Empire and Cardassian Empire attempt an invasion of the Gamma Quadrant, and are met with a spectacular and definitive defeat.

The season ends with the further threat of Founder infiltration in “The Adversary.”

The fourth season begins by ramping up the threat in the two-part “Way of the Warrior,” in which the Dominion manipulates the Klingon Empire into war with the Cardassians.

In “Homefront”/“Paradise Lost,” the Founders infiltrate Earth and sow chaos within Starfleet itself.

In the fifth season premiere “Apocalypse Rising,” the true identity of the Founder infiltrator within the Klingon Empire is finally revealed.

Later, we meet the real Martok (the guise of the infiltrator dating back to “Way of the Warrior”) in a Dominion prison camp also hosting the remains of the Romulan/Cardassian fleet, as the Cardassians officially join the Dominion during “In Purgatory’s Shadow”/“By Inferno’s Light.”

Then, in “Call to Arms,” the season finale, the station is evacuated and the war begins.

The sixth season kicks off with the famous six-episode continuous arc, the first real extended serialization in franchise history: “A Time to Stand,” “Rocks and Shoals,” “Sons and Daughters,” “Behind the Lines,” “Favor the Bold,” and “Sacrifice of Angels,” which of course culminates in the retaking of the station.

The season continues to explore the war in a variety of ways from that point. “Statistical Probabilities” is a pessimistic view of its eventual outcome. “Waltz” sees the psychological fallout for Dukat. “In the Pale Moonlight” is probably the single best episode of the whole arc, in which Sisko grapples with his conscience.

Finally, in “Tears of the Prophets,” the biggest casualty of the war occurs: Jadzia Dax.

The seventh and final season continues and concludes the war. “The Siege of AR-558” is a straight-up war story, complete with a post-traumatic stress fallout follow-up, “It’s Only a Paper Moon.”

The final ten episodes of the series are a second grand serialization: “Penumbra,” “’Til Death Do Us Part,” “Strange Bedfellows,” “The Changing Face of Evil,” “When It Rains…,” “Tacking Into the Wind,” “Extreme Measures,” “The Dogs of War,” and the two-part finale, “What You Leave Behind.”

Star Trek Arcs X: Kor

Here’s a fairly loose arc but it’s a pretty interesting one that goes deeper than it might seem, which is why I’m pulling one particular character from the many to appear in Deep Space Nine, and somehow not even one most fans are going to think about.

A somewhat lost element of Star Trek lore is that the first Klingon to ever appear was going to be a recurring character if actor John Colicos hadn’t been so busy. Kor makes his debut in “Errand of Mercy,” and would have also shown up in “The Trouble with Tribbles” and “Day of the Dove” (the other major Klingon appearances of the original series) if Colicos had been available.

So his replacements (Koloth in “Tribbles” and Kang in “Dove”) instead make their debuts, and the three of them then resurface three glorious decades later in the Deep Space Nine second season gem “Blood Oath,” which also finally cements Jadzia Dax’s credentials as a formidable character after a fair bit of waffling and uncertainty.

Long story short, Kor is appropriately the last of these Klingons standing, and he becomes subject to a prolonged arc of deciding what makes an aging Klingon’s life worth living.

First he shows up in “Sword of Kahless,” in which he competes with Worf on a mad quest to discover the legendary warrior’s weapon. Here he gets to nudge Worf into having a working relationship with another Klingon, which would eventually lead to his bond with Martok.

Which...would kind of be bad news for Kor himself, as we learn when we see him for the last time in the seventh season episode “Once More Unto the Breach,” in which we learn Martok’s backstory and Kor’s domineering role in it, and as such more about Kor’s backstory itself.

But the episode resolves Kor’s later dilemma by giving him the belated warrior’s death he had long sought.

The short arc is, all the same, a remarkable opportunity for the franchise to give a full story to a character (and species) that might have seemed one-note initially. But that’s Deep Space Nine in a nutshell, both in its own regard and how it deepens the franchise as a whole, sometimes in quite surprising ways. In no other series to date has an effort been made to flesh out such a seemingly minor character from another series, let alone itself. 

Star Trek Arcs IX: Bajoran Politics

When it comes to Deep Space Nine, a whole series of articles about its many arcs could be written, but for these purposes I’m only going to cover some of them, the ones in clearest focus. The first (I don’t count Sisko’s role as emissary, because in most instances it was a secondary element that didn’t really carry episodes) kicks off at the end of the first season, “In the Hands of the Prophets,” the episode many fans consider to be the start of the identifiable Deep Space Nine, where the rich tapestry of the series, and the confidence to explore it, kicked in.

Significantly, the recurring characters Kai Winn and Vedek Bareil are introduced. The death of Kai Opaka earlier in the season (introduced in the pilot as such a friendly personality) left a huge void in Bajoran affairs, one Winn, as fans would certainly come to see, was more than willing to fill. Bareil, meanwhile, becomes the touchstone that humanizes Kira as more than just someone struggling to overcome a brutal past.

The second season kicks off with the longest-to-that-point continuous story in franchise history, a three-part episode, “The Homecoming,” “The Circle,” and “The Siege,” that never receives near enough recognition for its significance, or achievement. Kira is tasked with rescuing a lost Bajoran hero from a Cardassian prison camp, but the ramifications end up being far more complicated than anyone could have anticipated. Kira herself is replaced aboard the station by the guy, but more importantly, Winn and her pal, played by Frank Langella (he opted to go uncredited at the time but it’s a huge casting coup that still demands trumpeting), are so obsessed with retaining power they engineer a massive conspiracy and even a hostile takeover of the station! 

Later that season “The Collaborator” marks the deepest exploration of how murky the Occupation really was, implicating saintly Bareil but ultimately challenging even Opaka’s legacy (it’s basically the Bajoran equivalent of “Sins of the Father” from Next Generation).

In the third season, the series featured its last major highlights of Bajoran politics. Fans were never that interested in Bajoran politics, alas, but the season still delivered two big moments: the death of Bareil and the rise of his successor.

Bareil dies in “Life Support,” agonizingly, a small piece at a time, as Winn manipulates Bashir into keeping him alive long enough to settle peace talks with the Cardassians. No single appearance does a better job of establishing how cold a villain Winn really is, the price of politics in any culture.

In “Shakaar,” Kira finds a potential new lover and Bajor a new leader when she’s given a chance to duplicate that bring-the-hero-back-from-the-dead trick, which turns into an old-fashioned western showdown in a canyon, at least ending this particular arc of the series on an appropriately high note.

Kira segues into a sustained slow burn romance with Odo for the duration of the series. Bareil, Mirror Bareil anyway, shows up again in the sixth season, “Resurrection,” though Shakaar quickly becomes lost in the shuffle, eventually never to be seen again, well before the final episode, which is a shame. Even Winn ends up relevant only as an ironic foil, and ally, of Dukat. 

The Bajorans in the series were in a lot of ways the first time fans got to explore what Vulcan society might look like, something Enterprise later accomplished (another link between the two series I always enjoyed). Not Kira and nor Ro before her reached the iconic status of Spock, however, so it was easy to take all this for granted. Is it that Kira wasn’t in Starfleet? Well, just perhaps.

Star Trek Arcs VIII: The Maquis

Arguably the most ambitious arc of the franchise was envisioned to help launch Voyager, and yet it continued down fascinating roads even from that point: the creation of the Federation rebels the Maquis.

The Maquis were Federation citizens who lived on worlds affected by treaty stipulations with the Cardassians, most famous for their Occupation of Bajor, a concept introduced in The Next Generation but played out most dramatically in Deep Space Nine. Eventually it wasn’t just those directly affected, colonists living on those worlds, but Starfleet officers who renounced their commissions to stand up for what they believed in.

The first appearance of the Maquis was in the eponymous two-part episode during the second season of Deep Space Nine. In it, Sisko and an old Starfleet friend confront the problem together until Sisko realizes his friend has actually already defected.

The same basic premise plays out in “Preemptive Strike,” Next Generation, airing about little more than a week later (if you were watching at the time, it was nearly three straight weeks of Maquis intrigue across Star Trek programming, with a few weeks’ gap; if it had happened later no doubt there would have been an actual crossover, which still has yet to happen in the franchise, and probably even the debuts of some of the actual Voyager characters). 

“Preemptive Strike” resonates more with fans than “The Maquis, Parts 1 & 2” thanks to pivoting around a known character rather than someone introduced in the story. That character of course is Ro Laren, the Bajoran who had been a recurring character in Next Generation for years, who was even originally considered to continue on in Deep Space Nine (and subsequently replaced by the new character Major Kira).

By the end of the episode, Ro feels conflicted by her decision to join the Maquis because she feels she’s betraying Picard directly. In that way, we end the initial experiences with the Maquis with the ability to view them in a positive manner.

When Voyager begins, “Caretaker” of course sees Starfleet and Maquis ships stranded in the Delta Quadrant and deciding to function as a single crew to find their way home again. A lot of fans expected the series to be an endless sequence of the competing ideologies in conflict, and never really forgave it for making a different creative choice. Though, to be fair, the Maquis were former Federation and in most cases even former Starfleet; the biggest hurdle was reintegrating into rigid Starfleet procedures (played out in the episode “Learning Curve”).

The Maquis story instead picks back up in Deep Space Nine, third season, “Defiant,” in which Riker’s transporter duplicate Thomas (“Second Chances”) is the third major defector we see play out, although the fourth and final one, in the fourth season’s “For the Cause,” ends up being by far the most dramatic one. 

At first Sisko believes it’s his girlfriend Kasidy Yates, which would certainly be bad enough, but it turns out to be straight arrow security officer Michael Eddington, a reliable recurring presence since the previous season.

We find out how powerfully Sisko feels this betrayal in the fifth season. “For the Uniform” is arguably the pinnacle of the pre-Dominion War period for the series. Sisko swears to bring Eddington in, but this proves incredibly difficult.

However, once accomplished it becomes a definitive turning point for the Maquis. When the Cardassians join the Dominion, they enact a scorched earth policy against the Maquis, and Eddington finds himself imagining a heroic last stand in “Blaze of Glory.”

The fate of the Maquis is transmitted to Janeway’s crew in Voyager, and in “Extreme Risk” we see how powerfully it affects B’Elanna Torres, the hotheaded half Klingon, half human engineer.

Finally, in “Repression,” a sleeper suggestion is awakened among the former Maquis members of the crew, implanted by a zealous Bajoran years earlier, thereby somewhat bringing the whole arc full circle.

Star Trek Arcs VII: Worf/Empire

If Gene Roddenberry had had his way, this one would never have happened, and modern Star Trek (and I suppose, Battlestar Galactica) would be a different story.

You see, when The Next Generation was being developed, he didn’t want to use any of the familiar aliens from the original series. That’s why there are so few Vulcans in the series. It’s also why we got the Ferengi, and even the Borg. But then Worf, who of course is Klingon, became a part of the regular cast of characters, although even at first he had a relatively minor role, no clearly defined post (Yar, after all, but the chief security officer).

As the first and second seasons developed, things changed again, and we even met Worf’s former lover, K’Ehleyr, in “The Emissary,” which indirectly started out the arc that would come to define him.

But it wasn’t until a jealous and manipulative rival named Duras attempted to lie his way to power in “Sins of the Father” that the high drama of Klingon politics finally became a thing. Worf ends up losing honor among his people, a rare unhappy ending for a Star Trek episode, but only the beginning of the story. We also meet his brother Kurn in the episode, by the way.

“Reunion” is the episode where everything really changes. We meet Gowron, who goes on to be chancellor of the Klingon Empire (and idol of bug-eyed aliens everywhere), K’Ehleyr returns, Duras attempts one last great plot, and...Alexander. That’s a whole arc, in a manner of speaking, as is how Gowron eventually loses power, which involves Worf’s relationship with another Klingon, Martok, but I’m limiting myself to the strict causality of events, so I won’t get into all of those details.

Anyway, Duras kills K'Ehleyr, Worf kills Duras, Gowron becomes chancellor.

This leads to the two-part “Redemption,” which itself involves another quasi-arc involving Yar and her Romulan daughter Sela (won’t get into that, either), in which the Klingons experience a civil war, exactly what the events of “Sins of the Father” were supposed to avoid. Clearly that didn’t work out so well.

The story picks up in Deep Space Nine, in the two-part “Way of the Warrior,” in which Worf, having sacrificed so much already, finds himself caught once more between the Empire and the Federation, as Gowron, who unbeknownst to him is being manipulated by the Dominion, declares war against the Federation, and asks Worf to stand by his side, which of course he refuses to do, compounding all his previous problems.

Finally, in “Sons of Mogh,” Kurn has had enough and wants his misery, at always being the victim to Worf’s choices, to end. But this is Star Trek, so every time suicide seems to be the answer, another one must be presented, and his memory is completely replaced instead. Worf gets to continue his journey alone. Until Martok. Long story short, they bond, and the increasingly dishonorable Gowron forces Worf to kill him near the end of the Dominion War, in “Tacking into the Wind,” which leads Martok to become the new chancellor.

Without all this, the idea of serialized storytelling, in Star Trek and genre television in general, might have taken longer to standardize. It’s the first time Star Trek made a concerted effort to tell a continuing story, especially one with so gosh darn many unhappy developments. Ronald Moore tends to get a lot of credit for it, which gave him enough of a reputation that he found himself in the position to totally reimagine Battlestar Galactica as a modern, grim, heavily serialized drama, in which the robotic Cylons are basically a lot of Duras fans. 

Star Trek Arcs VI: Picard versus the Borg

Arguably the biggest Star Trek arc ever was conceived in the least likely season of Star Trek ever (just like the last one). I’m talking, of course, about the Borg.

In the first season finale of The Next Generation, “The Neutral Zone,” the Romulans are reacting to the emerging threat of the Borg. That’s the whole point! 

But we don’t actually meet the Borg until the second season, in a Q episode, of all things, “Q Who?,” the unlikeliest thing ever, perhaps. In a lot of ways, that was an episode that redefined Q, took him seriously for the first time, and arguably too seriously! Every subsequent appearance (except maybe “Death Wish” in Voyager) veers far from the darkness of Q literally showing Picard how little he really understands about the dangers of space.

But it at least shows Picard as the one who needs to understand the threat of the Borg, because that becomes the big story.

At the end of the third season, “The Best of Both Worlds” makes franchise history as Picard finds himself assimilated into the Borg Collective, ending the episode on one of the most important (serialized) cliffhangers in television history. The fourth season premiere concludes the story, and of course Picard is rescued. But the fallout lingers for decades.

The first follow-up is the next episode of that season, “Family,” during which Picard deals with the emotional impact of his assimilation. He later encounters the Collective again in “I, Borg,” in which he’s forced to admit that even something seemingly as simple as how he should feel about this is actually quite complicated.

Then of course First Contact, in which he’s run through the ringer again. It remains my personal favorite Picard memory, especially the ready room scene where he admits how obsessed he remains, uncontrollably so.

The arc technically concludes in “The Impossible Box,” from Picard, in which he steps foot aboard a Borg cube again for the first time since his assimilation. 

Enterprise features a tie-in with all this in the episode “Regeneration,” in which we learn the time-traveling Borg from First Contact are in fact responsible for sending the signal that eventually brings the Collective on a collision course with humanity.

Finally, in the pilot of Deep Space Nine, “Emissary,” we meet Sisko, who lost his wife in the big battle from “The Best of Both Worlds, Part 2,” and he still blames Picard, regardless of his assimilated state at the time. It’s the rare moment in franchise lore we see a significant separate story set during a more famous one.

Star Trek Arcs IV: Mirror Universe

The first truly ambitious arc of the franchise became one across eras. One of the most famous episodes of the original series is “Mirror, Mirror,” the Mirror Universe episode, in which Kirk accidentally ends up in an alternate reality where the Federation never existed, with the Terran Empire in its stead. By the end of the episode, he’s convinced the goatee-sporting Evil Spock to fight for change.

Now, Deep Space Nine revisiting the Mirror Universe some thirty years later probably would have felt like a much bigger deal if, say, Evil Spock had been in it, or if Deep Space Nine itself hadn’t later developed its own rich legacy revolving around the Dominion War. The first instance occurred near the end of its second season, in an episode called “Crossover.” The big shock is that Evil Spock did succeed! But that, at least as far as humans were concerned, it turned out to be a terrible idea!

When the Terran Empire turned its back on its old ways, it created a void filled by the Alliance, led by the Klingons and Cardassians, and overnight humans ended up in much the role the Bajorans had just before the series began, when they were subjugated by the Cardassians during the Occupation.

By the end of the episode, they begin their journey back to freedom.

The following season, that journey continues! In “Through the Looking Glass,” Sisko travels to the Mirror Universe to replace his dead doppelgänger, and in the process “reunites” with his dead wife’s lookalike. It’s the most personal Mirror Universe story...until another season later, in which his son Jake, in “Shattered Mirror,” experiences yet another painful family tragedy.

In the sixth season, the Mirror Universe Bareil (his counterpart died in the third season) visits the prime universe, which for fans always leaves “Resurrection” to be the least enjoyable entry in the Deep Space Nine sequels, as it mostly revolves around a personal story for Kira that does little to advance the arc.

In the seventh and final season, the arc, as it has certainly become by this point, concludes in “The Emperor’s New Cloak,” in which I’m pretty sure no Ferengi manage to die in the Mirror Universe for the first time! Probably!

That’s the end of the arc, but not the end of the Mirror Universe! A second arc begins in Discovery fifteen years or so later, although viewers don’t know it at first. Captain Lorca is eventually revealed to have come from the Mirror Universe, and his efforts to return introduce Mirror Georgiou, whose arc concludes in “Terra Firma, Parts 1 & 2.”

There’s more! Enterprise shows us the origin of the Mirror Universe, suggesting that if the events of First Contact hadn’t played out like that, and Cochrane had been left to his own devices, wary humanity would have reacted very differently to their Vulcan guests. And then “In A Mirror, Darkly, Parts 1 & 2” put on a fun little romp that also revisits “The Tholian Web.”

The Mirror Universe remains a unique experience in franchise lore, a pocket adventure with unique surprises that comments on the hopeful nature of Star Trek in the most unlikely way.

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine “Too Long A Sacrifice” review

rating: **

the story: A rash of violence aboard the station leads Odo on a troubling investigation.

review: This is an IDW comic book, the first time the company has produced a Deep Space Nine spotlight in a decade. It attempts to closely match the flavor of the TV series in art and storytelling. It doesn’t entirely succeed but it’s worth the effort.

Part of the problem is that it’s set in the sixth season. The Dominion War is raging, Jadzia Dax is alive, and yet the premise feels like it would much more easily fit in a prior period. A reference is even made to Garak bombing his own shop (“Improbable Cause,” third season), but it’s one of many details suggesting the writers (IDW veterans Scott & David Tipton) were far more diligent picking up the feel rather than the flavor of the source material.

Without giving too much away, this is first/second season material. 

All the familiar characters are here, with Odo as the nominal lead, but no real effort is made to make any of them feel authentic. They’re all just going through the motions. Odo, for instance, is once again in the position of Starfleet assigning one of its own to facilitate matters, but unlike in the show he barely bats an eye at it. Considering, as fans would know, the last time this happened the guy turned out to be a Maquis double agent (the highly underrated Eddington), this is a tough one to swallow.

But nostalgia is nostalgia, and it is great to see new material that at least superficially matches the old. One has the sense, though, that the goal is perhaps to entice the uninitiated, which is to say, this would be a great way to introduce someone to the show.

criteria analysis:

>franchise - General fans should be able to use it as a springboard.

>series - Longtime fans will be able to appreciate it.

>character - Characterization is thin.

>essential - It is not.

Star Trek Arcs II: Khan

The second Star Trek arc is probably the most famous arc of the whole franchise: Khan Noonien Singh. 

Khan comes from our own lifetime, a genetic superman who rose to power in the 1990s as part of the Eugenics Wars, which other than this biographical detail have never been explored except in books. (Slightly more examined but still sketchy: WWIII.) Anyway, Khan loses power, is exiled into space in a sleeper ship called the Botany Bay, there to linger for hundreds of years until stumbled upon by Kirk and company near the end of the first season of the original series in “Space Seed” (which, for those keeping score, is of course before Chekov joins the cast).

And Khan immediately attempts his old shenanigans again, and once more finds himself in exile for his efforts, this time on a planet called Ceti Alpha V.

And then, in the second film of the franchise, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, he returns once more. Fans still claim this particular adventure is the high water mark of at least the films, and were none too pleased when Star Trek Into Darkness revisited it. Like the other Kelvin films it essentially exists in its own timeline, so it doesn’t technically connect with the rest of the arc, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t more to the story.

Enterprise provides that. Remember how Data’s creator was named Noonian Soong? Well, we meet his ancestor, Arik, whose work begins with other “augments” from Khan’s heyday, similarly revived for additional mayhem, in the trilogy of episodes “Borderland,” “Cold Station 12,” and “The Augments,” before he decides to switch to robotics (the evolution of which itself carries into the first season of Picard).

That’s still not the end of the story!

The augments, during the course of their misbegotten adventures, crossed paths with the Klingons, and in “Affliction” and “Divergence” we learn the canonical explanation for the lack of ridges in the original series: they attempted an experiment to create augments of their own, and mostly the results were cosmetic (mostly so they didn’t accidentally annihilate themselves!).

A side note: Deep Space Nine revisits the idea of genetic engineering in “Doctor Bashir, I Presume?,” in which we learn that Bashir, naturally enough, is controversially entangled in it, thanks to his parents, and that the Federation still finds it otherwise as much a taboo as the Genesis Planet Khan helped create.

Deep Space Nine Forgot About: The Jem’Hadar

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine did just about everything right. It certainly helped set up modern Star Trek as it exists in Discovery and Picard, and even before that it was used as the definitive example of everything Voyager and Enterprise didn’t do well enough. In short, it was a series of immense depth, not just in terms of serialization or an arc that could be traced from first to last episode, but giving every element as thorough a spotlight as possible. 

And every element had some kind of resolution. Even if Armin Shimerman was a little disappointed that Quark was still merely a bartender at a space station at the edge of the final frontier, despite everything he experienced across seven seasons, exactly where he’d begun, there was no longer any real doubt about whether or not he was a good guy (even if Odo wouldn’t admit it). You can pick anything at all from the series and trace the course of its evolution, or illumination.

Anything but the Jem’Hadar.

The Jem’Hadar were introduced as being of considerable importance, in the final episode of the second season. The episode’s name is even “The Jem’Hadar.” They were the face of the Dominion we were allowed to see as such right from the start, its fierce foot soldiers whose battleships could take out the same class of Starfleet ship as Picard’s Enterprise. In the episode, of course, is a Vorta, subsequently revealed as representing the voice of the Dominion and later embodied quite ably by a series of Weyoun clones (who of course are given their own moment, too, in “Treachery, Faith and the Great River”).

It isn’t until the third season that the Jem’Hadar are individualized, “The Anandoned,” the first of a small collection of Jem’Hadar we get to meet and...and never see again. We meet others in “Hippocratic Oath,” “To the Deathl (both in the fourth season), and “Rocks in Shoals” (part of the opening war suite of the sixth season), which is the last time the series makes a real effort with them. Technically there’s also “One Little Ship” (later that season), but you would have to be pretty generous to include it.

And nothing in the final, seventh season.

Now, I get that there was a lot to accomplish that season, being, again, the final one. The final ten episode war suite makes room for a second set of anonymous antagonists, the Breen (often referenced previously, never seen, turn out to be fully encased in armor), who of course also don’t receive a single distinct representative.

In their significant appearances, the Jem’Hadar were consistently presented as inherently capable of so much more, that they weren’t just strung-out junkies genetically modified to be the grunts of the Founders. And teased, every time, to be more than ready to be so. 

To put this in perspective, the series also famously featured the Ferengi, who even in Deep Space Nine were considered a joke, despite every effort the series made to change this perception, so that every spotlight was “a Ferengi episode” (an insult). By the end, the Ferengi had made considerable strides to move past their misogynistic and greedy ways, with Quark’s brother Rom rejecting every traditional notion and somehow becoming Grand Nagus (leader) in the process.

There’s no equivalent arc for the Jem’Hadar. There isn’t an arc at all. Each individual spotlight effectively restates the same thing, that they’re not as bad as they seem, and that given a real chance they could be so much more.

And they were simply never given that chance. That’s six out of seven seasons where they were part of the storytelling, and it never happened.

That’s possibly the most glaring oversight and shortcoming of the whole series.

It’s like “Balance of Terror” somehow concluding the Romulan commander was just a villain after all.

When people debate whether Deep Space Nine followed the basic tenets of the franchise, they are actively choosing to either support or ignore what anyone who actually watched it would be able to tell you, that it absolutely did. And in fact, probably did better than any Star Trek series or film before or since.

Which makes this exception all the more glaring. This was a series that went out of its way to make its point, to hit its spots, which got away with it in large part because the studio heads weren’t really paying attention, being far more concerned about how Next Generation ended (and entered the world of film) and Voyager began. That left the writers with a tremendous amount of leeway. Even when the studio strongly suggested to make the proceedings look more familiar (add Worf, the Klingons in general, in the fourth season), the writers used it as an opportunity to restate how dire the Dominion threat really was.

Which, again, included the Jem’Hadar. Theoretically. Or just keep them as muscle. Never let them get their victory. Even at the end of the series, the characters are more concerned about what the Breen might get if the Dominion wins than if the Jem’Hadar stay loyal. Because, well, losing them would absolutely cripple the Dominion. The Breen were opportunists. The Cardassians were clearly only after their own interests. And the Vorta were no fighters. Take away the Jem’Hadar?

Strangely, in another series this would have been a no-brainer. Picard realizes, in Next Generation’s “I, Borg,” that if you separate a drone from the hive mind, you have potential for considerable mischief, at the very least, among the collective itself. In Enterprise, Archer works furiously to turn Xindi scientist Degra into an ally during its third season (“Stratagem”). And of course “Balance of Terror” itself. Even Voyager knew this during the midst of its Kazon arc when Chakotay befriends a young warrior in “Initiations.”

And nowhere were the stakes higher or fraught with greater potential than Deep Space Nine and the Jem’Hadar.

Well, I guess they couldn’t win them all.

DS9's 2019 Losses...

2019 was a bad year for Deep Space Nine! 

First, Aron Eisenberg passed away September 21st.  Eisenberg ended up becoming the most successful of DS9's much-celebrated recurring guest stars when he was featured in his own episode during the final season, "It's Only a Paper Moon," in which Nog, Quark's nephew, grapples with PTSD with the help of holosuite lounge singer Vic Fontaine.  Having debuted as a naive youth, best friend of Jake Sisko, Eisenberg helped revolutionize the portrayal of Ferengi perhaps more than even Quark, rejecting his people's ideals even more radically than his father Rom, joining Starfleet and enjoying great success in his new career.  The What We Left Behind documentary, which I watched not long before Eisenberg's death, captures a bittersweet moment when the show's writers reunite to break an imaginary new episode, in which Nog is quickly killed off, with a quick cut to a distraught Eisenberg.  We would have mourned Nog, and we mourn Eisenberg himself greatly.

Then Rene Auberjonois!  The actor behind the CGI shapeshifting and rubber mask of Odo passed away December 8th.  Auberjonois had a number of distinguished roles during his career, including portraying father Mulcahy in the original film version of MASH, a supporting role in the long-running TV series Benson, and the chef in The Little Mermaid.  Star Trek fans also saw him in Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country and an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise, and Batman fans caught him in Batman Forever.  My favorite memory of him outside of Star Trek was The Patriot, which sees his dramatic death include a thrilling hand-off of a musket to Mel Gibson.  It's really hard to imagine the legacy of the Star Trek franchise without him.  DS9 itself would be infinitely poorer without Odo, and without Auberjonois brilliantly portraying him.  Not even considering Odo's specific relationships with Kira or Quark, his role in the series is still unique within the franchise, the kind of gruff even Bones could never approach, but the kind of gruff you want to have around, certainly for station's chief of security (Cardassian or Starfleet).

(It should be noted that the imagined new episode of the series mentioned above had two roles not specifically needed in the plot, and they were both played by these actors.  A curse!)

They will be greatly missed.

What We Left Behind: A Look at the Documentary about Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Released on home recently, What We Left Behind is a retrospective documentary celebrating Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, the third live action series in the franchise that ran from 1993 to 1999 (making this twenty years since it ended).  I didn't participate in the crowdfunding for it, but I loved that DS9 showrunner Ira Steven Behr helped put it together.

I've been a member of the cult-within-a-cult since the back half of the second season, when I started watching (not incoincidentally, perhaps, also when Next Generation was ending), perhaps with a rerun of "Necessary Evil" from earlier that season (which at any rate is my earliest solid memory of the series).  As What We Left Behind makes clear, lots of fans dismissed DS9 as too dark, too far from the spirit of the franchise.  Later, internet observers sort of convinced themselves it was Voyager or Enterprise that led to the end of that era, but it was really DS9's lack of popularity that began the downward spiral.  They had to add Worf in the fourth season to even begin to convince fans it was worth watching.  The third season remains my favorite, when everything started coming together to create the memories the internet fans have of the richly-woven tapestry that helped usher in the modern era of serialized storytelling in TV shows.

So to call it a "cult-within-a-cult" is to acknowledge that although What We Left Behind dwells on the unpopularity, there has long been a subset of fans who argue that DS9 is the best Star Trek has ever been, a phenomenon that probably helped make the documentary itself exist.

What the documentary is, then, is perhaps as much a love letter for initiated fans as for those just becoming aware of its remarkable achievements a quarter century after it began.  There's some of the actors reprising their crooning honed from years on the convention circuit, peppered about, and most of the cast getting a chance to revisit their time making the show.  In a lot of ways, it's an opportunity to officially welcome Terry Farrell back into the fold, after she somewhat abruptly left the series just before its final season after becoming convinced she was ultimately unappreciated by the studio. 

One of the more surprising things I learned was how Marc Alaimo views himself.  He, too, apparently felt unappreciated, needing validation that went beyond being repeatedly brought back to reprise the increasingly pivotal role of Gul Dukat (somewhat amusingly, Nana Visitor seems to cringe at the thought of Alaimo's crush on her).  It was also great hearing more about how Avery Brooks presented himself, and how he was viewed by castmates.

And, CBS All Access, after you've done Star Trek: Picard, take a cue from the reunited writers room brainstorming.  Do an update of DS9, too! 

Anyway, as a longtime fan, What We Left Behind was absolutely a rewarding experience.  I don't know how it plays if you're not already committed to DS9 (a lot of commentators are doing the default social media thing), but hopefully it's a good way to discover just a little of what the series contributed to the franchise.  Even the extended deleted scenes don't cover everything else!  But there's a good sense of humor involved.  Just wait until Behr and Visitor give us the best scene of the series in the credits!

He Was a Particularly Troubled Romulan: Star Trek Post-9/11

"He was a particularly troubled Romulan."

That's what Spock says of Nero in Star Trek (2009).  The line always stuck out for me, but I never quite understood why until recently.  Spock, of course, is Vulcan, and Nero is Romulan, an offshoot of the Vulcans.  Further characterizing the Romulans was always a little difficult.  In the original TV series, they were presented as another Cold War analogy, like the Klingons, who had fought the Federation in the past but had retreated into reclusiveness.  In fact, the fact that Romulans descended from Vulcans wasn't even generally known until they emerged again, and they went back into isolation until The Next Generation, where they became a recurring threat, until the events of Star Trek Nemesis, in which a clone of Picard named Shinzon attempted another full-scale war against the Federation, but ended up suffering the loss of their home planet in the backstory of Star Trek. 

Characterizing Nero as "particularly troubled" is a telling detail.  Nero's response to the destruction of Romulus is to blame Spock, the older one still alive in Picard's day, and all of the Federation, and to once again declare open war.  He sets about a plan to what is in his mind equitable retaliatory action, affecting the destruction of the Vulcan home world and then the rest of the leading Federation worlds, starting with Earth.

And it made me wonder what exactly Nero represented.  Longtime fans tend to look down on the new films, claiming they lack the spirit of the franchise by putting too much focus on flashy special effects.  But that's simply not the case.

Since 9/11, Star Trek has had terrorism on the brain.  Star Trek: Enterprise famously launched within weeks of 9/11.  By the end of its second season, Enterprise launched a major story arc in direct response, an act of terrorism against Earth that led to a preventive mission against the aliens responsible. 

As you read above, the franchise was responsive to its times from the very beginning.  The Klingons and the Romulans were both reflective of the Soviet Union, an idea that culminated in Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country with its breakup.  The Next Generation continued the tradition; the Troubles in Ireland were often reflected in its storytelling.  Deep Space Nine echoed the collapse of the imperial age with the end of the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor, reflecting back to the days of WWII but often evoking present times, if not the Troubles then the ongoing conflict in Israel.

Which brings us back to Star Trek.  What if Nero was a Palestinian analogy?  Or Islamic terrorists such as those who struck on 9/11?  I find it likely.  And then Star Trek Into Darkness doubled down on the idea. 
                                                                                                                                                                          

 

You'll recall the above promotional poster, meant to evoke Khan's early terrorism in the movie.  Khan himself might as well have depicted the perception that America's response to 9/11 ended up being excessive or misguided, to put it mildly.

 

Things worth considering.



Deep Space Nine 1x20 "In the Hands of the Prophets"

****

As a season finale, "In the Hands of the Prophets" is a little unconventional.  In a lot of ways, it's a regular episode that's another sign that Deep Space Nine was finally finding its legs, and that in itself is something to cheer, but every other finale in the series had something more dramatic to say, at least more obvious.  Then again, perhaps the episode does exactly what it's supposed to.  Well, let's have a closer look.

Keiko O'Brien, stalwart wife of Chief O'Brien, is finally starting to feel like she's not completely out of place on the station, having opened a school on the Promenade and accepted any student who wishes to attend.  Earlier in the season it was a struggle just to get Nog, Jake Sisko's Ferengi friend, to take regular classes.  Now she's got Bajoran kids in the classroom.  This is a problem, because Keiko has to navigate certain beliefs, such as what exactly the wormhole aliens are.  To Bajorans, they're the Prophets, the central tenet of their religion.  To Starfleet, they're simply noncorporeal beings.

Okay, so this becomes a sticking issue for ambitious Bajoran politicians, especially Vedek (later Kai) Winn, who makes her first appearance in the episode, as does Vedek Bareil, the more moderate voice who becomes a recurring love interest for Kira.  Winn escalates the situation into a whole fiasco, forcing everyone to the mat, including Sisko, whose posting at the station is supposed to help smooth Bajor's transition into stability and readiness to enter the Federation.  It is quickly proving to be exactly the opposite.

Considering that the first three episodes of the second season are an extended Bajoran crisis, "In the Hands of the Prophets" has a great deal more significance than it can sometimes seem.  This may be due to the fact that most fans found Bajoran problems to be exceedingly tedious.  In later seasons, Bajoran affairs practically become invisible, and not just because Dominion concerns lead to an extended war arc.  The first season finale is perhaps the statement of a series that would undergo a somewhat radical transition, and so any ongoing perception of its impact may become malleable, when the truth is at the time of its original airing, "Prophets" could not have been more important, both to that moment in the series and for the series in general.

Deep Space Nine was meant to accomplish a lot of things, and one of them was to explore the original intentions of Star Trek in a dynamic and new way.  This is one of those episodes that provides that potential any number of unexpected benefits.  The theme of faith and science did not ultimately receive a lot of traction, so this is in that sense an experience that still stands out as unique, even though there are many other elements floating about so that you don't have to think of "Prophets" strictly as a morality play.

Coming off the heels of "Duet," "Prophets" will always seem like something of a letdown, but in its own way, it's just as noteworthy, and just as enduring an episode for anyone looking to examine the long-term development of the series.

So yes, one of the things you begin to realize about Deep Space Nine is that you can learn something important about the series in every episode, if it's done right.  Finally we're at the point where the show itself seems to have learned that.  If nothing else, that's a fine note to end a season on.

franchise * series * essential * character

Notable guest-stars:
Louise Fletcher (Winn)
Philip Anglim (Bareil)
Rosalind Chao (Keiko)

Memory Alpha summary.

Deep Space Nine 1x19 "Duet"

****

One of the most justifiably, universally praised episodes in the entire franchise, "Duet" is a fascinating exploration of the limits of moral responsibility.

Kira becomes involved in the case of a Cardassian accused of being one of the worst war criminals of the Occupation.  Being a lifetime member of the Resistance, she can easily be identified as someone with a vested interest in seeing Cardassians get what's coming to them.  She was a terrorist, freedom fighter, and patriot all rolled into one.

Except life on the station and in the aftermath of Bajorans regaining control of their own lives has complicated her worldview.  The old Kira probably would have assumed the Cardassian was guilty and never given it a second thought, condemned him on the spot.  Yet a man who is doing everything to accept his fate forces Kira to reexamine everything she's assumed, not just in his case but throughout her entire life.  Something just isn't right.

I don't want to spoil "Duet" for you if you've never seen it, but suffice to say it's one of the most complex episodes of any Star Trek.  There have been numerous other, very similar efforts, from Next Generation's "The Defector" to Voyager's "Jetrel," and perhaps even Enterprise's "Stratagem," but "Duet" still holds the high-water mark for piercing ambiguity.  Kira's journey during it is not only a defining one for her, but for the entire series.  In short, this is the one episode that finally cracks the formula of what Deep Space Nine was supposed to be like from the start.

Maybe you want to think of "Duet" in that big sense, and maybe that's a little much, and may actually explain why so few Star Trek fans have rallied around the series.  Despite the fact that those who love it really love it, Deep Space Nine still has the same amount of overall approval as the two later series that most fans will only admit to hating.  With the original series, and certainly for its time (even as sci-fi television was perhaps best defined by The Twilight Zone, a series Deep Space Nine might be said to be patterned after), good was good and evil was evil, and it was unusual to blur the lines of these distinctions.  Next Generation kept that model for the most part (hence the signature, faceless foe known as the Borg), but right from the start, Deep Space Nine took a different tack, and "Duet" is the moment where everything came together.

For a young series, it's an incredibly mature episode.  It's arguably the moment Kira stopped being a surrogate for the character she was created to replace (Ro) and instead came into her own.  Yes, it's another moment in the first season where she's forced to question her assumptions, but it's the first time she's doing it with a Cardassian, looking at an issue and suddenly finding a whole new perspective.  That's what most of the characters in the series struggled to find, and "Duet" is the first time one of them is successful.

Whatever reason you yourself will find, "Duet" will leave an impression on you.  It's Deep Space Nine in a nutshell.

franchise * series * essential * character

Notable guest-stars:
Marc Alaimo

Memory Alpha summary.

Deep Space Nine 1x18 "Dramatis Personae"

*

This is probably the best of the random plots from the first season.  Still, the same idea was done better by Voyager in "Worst Case Scenario."

Basically, "Dramatis Personae" artificially creates a situation where all the main characters are pushed into their most extreme behaviors, forcing the underlying tensions the series has built at least a part of its premise around to rise to the surface.  In Voyager, that meant finally seeing a dramatic confrontation between the Starfleet and Maquis members of the crew via a holodeck program booby-trapped by the one Maquis who actually did exploit what some fans always assumed was inevitable (Seska).  Here, it's pretty much the same, with tensions between Starfleet and Bajoran personnel bubbling to crisis.

Now, some of this might seem a little strange to fans who aren't too familiar with the early development of Deep Space Nine.  They might be surprised to learn how hostile Kira was to Starfleet's presence.  Outside of this episode, it was really only apparent in the pilot; otherwise, other than the difference in uniform she became such a loyal collaborator with Starfleet that she might as well have been a member.  This is not a criticism of the series, but rather a way to explain what exactly this episode is supposed to accomplish.

In short, "Dramatis Personae" was almost an anachronism from its original airdate.  In a way, this is exactly the kind of episode that would have driven fans crazy in a different Star Trek, or pointed out things they wished had been happening all along.  Heck, this one may actually be the reason Deep Space Nine was the first of the franchise black sheep.

Anyway, a couple things worth pointing out.  Odo is at the center of this story, being the typical individual unaffected by the weird things going on (which could also make this a fine episode to watch if you like that kind of Star Trek adventure), though I have no particularly strong memories of this being significant to the character one way or another.  Also, one of the quirks Sisko develops leads him to building an intricate clock, which can still be seen in his office well past this episode, and it foreshadows his ability and interest, even while not under the influence, to build a Bajoran solar ship in "Explorers" two seasons later.  So there are a couple of ways to view this episode as more significant than it really is, but I don't want to exaggerate its worth.

Have a look at it and judge for yourself.

franchise * series * essential * character

Memory Alpha summary.

Deep Space Nine 1x17 "The Forsaken"

****

One of the key episodes of the first season was also another one to revisit a familiar Next Generation face.  Unlike what might have seemed somewhat gratuitous in other instances, however, "The Forsaken" marks another of Deep Space Nine's maturing points in its formative development.

Now, stop me if you've heard this one: Lwaxana Troi stops by and makes things uncomfortable.  The thing is, it's almost as if she's a completely different character.  The difference, as Q demonstrated previously, is that she really is in a different series.  Where Picard (and others, including her own daughter) only ever got around to tolerating her, Lwaxana finds an unexpected match in Odo, the shapeshifter noted for keeping his own company, a self-imposed alienation.  As it turns out, that's something Lwaxana knows a thing or two about, and their budding relationship in this episode alone is a revelation, and a delightful wonder.

The episode's ability to take a commodity as familiar as Lwaxana and fully envelope her in the show's emerging mentality is its most intriguing element, but the rest of it also allows everyone else to relax into what would become a more regular and steady interpretation of what life on a space station could be like.  Sure, computer malfunctions caused by rogue sentience and unruly ambassadors had been in Star Trek before, but "The Forsaken" helps make them feel natural in a new and entirely befitting setting.  In short, this is an early episode that finally helped things coalesce.

Of course, what truly makes it memorable is Lwaxana and Odo, and if you only watch it for these scenes, you're in for quite a treat.  Mrs. Troi makes two additional appearances in the series, and as enjoyable as they are, they still have a hard time living up to "The Forsaken."  For a season that struggled a great deal to find a steady tone, that's quite a mark of distinction.

franchise * series * essential * character

Notable guest-stars:
Majel Barrett

Memory Alpha summary

Deep Space Nine 1x16 "If Wishes Were Horses"

**

I suppose in some alternate version of Deep Space Nine, perhaps one that only lasted three seasons, like the original series, "If Wishes Were Horses" might be more significant.  It's perhaps more like an original series episode than just about any other Star Trek.

The problem in the long run is that it's not like a Deep Space Nine episode, at least not in comparison to the vast majority of the show's seven seasons.

You could call it "Shore Leave" and some of the more casual fans won't be able to tell the difference.  The one element that more committed fans will still care about is the appearance of Buck Bokai, who was an early manifestation of Sisko's love for baseball, supposedly the last great player the game ever saw.  Bokai's significance ends with his appearance here (Sisko's girlfriend and eventual wife, Kassidy Yates, has a brother who still plays baseball, the whole crew played it in the seventh season, and of course there's the ball that's always on Sisko's desk, all things that ultimately mean more than Buck Bokai), but his presence was a rare instance of Star Trek trying to build something of a history for its own future without worrying about world wars and warp drives.  Making an appearance in one of the more naive episodes in the most naive season of the series is not a way to be remembered by anyone but the most dedicated viewers.  Still, you might consider Bokai to be the forerunner to Vic Fontaine, the holosuite lounge singer who became such a significant feature of the final two seasons.

All considered, though, you can skip this episode except as another odd tribute to a version of Star Trek that Deep Space Nine was never supposed to be.  There's a lot of sweet character moments, including the always charming Molly O'Brien, and a truly embarrassing moment or two for Bashir that only serves to further emphasize how much he needs to grow, but you wish that the series didn't have to find them in a premise like this.

franchise * series * essential * character

Memory Alpha summary.