Equals

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Alexander Rozhenko may well be dead, or otherwise missing, by the time of PIC S3 in c/daystrominstitute@startrek.website
[–] Equals@startrek.website 3 points 1 year ago (1 children)

It seems like a particularly glaring oversight to have the season of Picard featuring Picard and Beverly’s long lost son, Geordi’s daughters, memories of Thaddeus Riker’s death, and the first time we’ve seen Worf in a long time not explicitly mention at least once that Worf is also a member of the parent club.

The fact that the oversight is so glaring is what makes me think that we are supposed to read in to the vague line about "sacrifice", and that we are supposed to infer that it's about Alexander. It's subtle and I think it's unsatisfying narratively, but I think that was the intent.

As to why they didn't just make an offhand reference like "Alexander is in command of an entire fleet"... I'm guessing they felt (rightly or wrongly) that it would be weird not to do more with the idea of "Worf as a father", so.... they opted to quietly make him Not A Father (Anymore). Which, to be clear, I'm not saying was a good decision, I'm just trying to do some tea leaves reading here.

Alexander Rozhenko may well be dead, or otherwise missing, by the time of PIC S3 in c/daystrominstitute@startrek.website
[–] Equals@startrek.website 3 points 1 year ago

This is my thinking too -- if we are supposed to infer anything from Worf's apparent omission beyond just "Alexander is somehow gone", my guess is that we are supposed to reach back to "Firstborn" and assume something like the "prophecy" did indeed pan out, but with Alexander taking the fall instead of Worf.

If memory serves, this is how Star Trek: Online took his story... and ah yes, it is indeed: https://memory-beta.fandom.com/wiki/Alexander_Rozhenko?so=search#Star_Trek:_Online

You're not my real dad! in c/daystrominstitute@startrek.website
[–] Equals@startrek.website 1 points 1 year ago

Oh this one is really interesting, and a very compelling case.

I think one thing that we risk losing as the Second Generation series (TNG, DS9, VGR and ENT) pass into memory is an understanding of the cultural context in which they were written. So I think it's really useful that you've explicitly connected this to cultural anxiety around divorce, which I think is still present but doesn't seem like nearly the fixation I remember from 20+ years ago. I wonder, assuming that cultural anxiety fades over time, how the perception of those stories will thereby be impacted.

What follow is probably too freudian an analysis but: I wonder if fan reactions to DIS and PIC S1 and S2 can be read in this framework. Using this framework, DIS is characterized by an evolving roster of parental figures (lack of consistency) and betrayals of leaders (loss of trust), while PIC cuts its teeth on exposing the flaws of the titular father figure. There are lots of ways people have articulated that these series don't "feel" like Star Trek, and I wonder if this subversion of convention plays into that.

Uniform color reflects the fundamental approaches of each department: a grand theory of Starfleet uniform colors in c/daystrominstitute@startrek.website
[–] Equals@startrek.website 2 points 1 year ago

Why Bother With All These Colors?

I suggest two explanations — one for how this all started, and one for why it was maintained.

As for how it got started: in “Tomorrow Is Yesterday,” Kirk has a curious line, when describing the group that built the Enterprise: “We're a combined service, Captain. Our authority is the United Earth Space Probe Agency.” Author Christopher L. Bennett has explored this idea more fully — that Starfleet was formed from the various interstellar agencies of the Founding Planets of the Federation and that the uniform colors and patches reflect this. He discusses this some in his annotations, but you get a good summary from his sketch of his proposed 2160s uniforms. Likewise, I suggest that the colors may have been chosen in the early-to-mid 22nd century as Earth Starfleet was formed from the merger of, say, a United Earth Science Organization, a United Earth Security Organization, and a United Earth Spaceflight Organization — hence the “combined service.”

The maintenance of different department and division colors could be justified by the need to categorize an unknown officer’s problem-solving skill set during a crisis situation. Need something fixed? A (24th century) goldshirt can probably assist. Need to understand a mysterious phenomenon? Call over a blueshirt. Need someone to delegate prioritization and management to during a crisis? Call a redshirt.

Conclusion and Notes

The core of these categorizations sits with the approaches of each division. The storytelling value is understated but profound — to solve problems, you frequently need to have contributions from all of these approaches. You need cerebral researchers, you need pragmatic builders, and you need bold decision makers. Any one of these working on their own has gaps and blindspots. But working together, they are a force to be reckoned with. Put another way — humanity needs all of us to work together, to succeed.

Thus, as a storytelling device, uniform colors reinforce a core tenet — perhaps the core tenet — of Star Trek: infinite diversity in infinite combinations.

Acknowledgements

My original comment on this topic was in a Daystrom reddit thread by NervousEnergy. Additional tips of the hat to rockerfellerswank, iamzeph, Flynn58, and ConservedQuantity.

Uniform color reflects the fundamental approaches of each department: a grand theory of Starfleet uniform colors in c/daystrominstitute@startrek.website
[–] Equals@startrek.website 3 points 1 year ago (1 children)

Phaser Control crews in the 2260s are shown in Command Gold (see below). 24th-century officers of the Judge Advocate General, such as Phillipa Louvois and Rear Admiral Bennett are also in Command Red. Intelligence officers such as Worf and “Rota” are in Command, as is Sloan when he appears to work for Internal Affairs. Worf also brings the role of Strategic Operations into the Command Division. And numerous 24th century administrators, including Ensign Weldon, Commander Hilliard, and then-Commander Benteen, are shown in Command (though see below).

The trend we see developing here is that the Command Division encompasses roles that range from administrative to real-time control — all involving some level of command decisions, all involving complex situations with many variables. As such, I and others suggest that dedicated diplomatic officers would likely also be in this division, along with dedicated shuttle pilots.

In all cases, we see an emphasis on the complex analysis of secondary data sources. A JAG officer must weigh this legal precedent against that, must compare the strength of this counsel's argument with the other's. An administrator (and starship CO and XO) must balance multiple priorities, coordinate multiple efforts, make executive decisions on which project gets which resources. An intelligence officer must read countless briefings and analyses and meta-analyses, and conduct their own constant analysis of the information at hand. A diplomat has to constantly balance various parties' interests at once, all while appearing equanimous. And a pilot (and weapons control officer) must bear in mind the position of nearby objects, the capacity of the ship’s engines, the strategic requirements of the situation, the physics of starship motion, and the relevant impact of stellar and interstellar phenomena, all simultaneously.

Administrators

The 24th-century trend points towards administrators being part of the Command Division (c.f. Weldon, Hilliard, Benteen). This is consistent with the general idea of needing to be able to multitask, pivot from crisis to crisis, and engage in some level of command/control. The 23rd-century trend points toward administrators being part of the Operations Division — for example, almost all of the yeomen aboard the NCC-1701 — Rand, Colt, , etc. – are shown in the Operations color of their era. Likewise, Commodore Stone and Commodore Stocker, who are depicted as more paper-pusher administrators than Sisko ever was, despite their shared positions as base commanders, are shown in Operations. On the other hand, Commodore Mendez is shown in Command.

There is logic to both approaches — one could imagine a starship yeomen’s responsibilities being more clearly defined (and thus a better fit for Operations) while an admiral’s adjutant may be responsible for handling a wider range of unexpected circumstances (and thus a better fit for Command). The shift between 23rd and 24th centuries may represent a change in Starfleet’s approach, or it may be that different administrative positions fall under different divisions, depending on their specific job requirements.

Admirals

A conversation between Sisko and Eddington in “The Adversary” has been taken to mean that only Command Division officers can rise to captain or higher. This would seem to be generally true, but not a hard and fast rule. Montgomery Scott held the rank of captain while still maintaining membership in the Operations Division, and Admiral Toddman did the same while serving with Starfleet Security. In the 23rd century, Commodore Stone and Commodore Stocker both wear Operations Red, which is consistent with the general trend of that era of putting administrators in Operations rather than Command. Though all these examples represent a minority, it’s clear that there is no hard requirement that captains and flag officers be part of the Command Division. More likely is that the available positions for such ranks skew toward the Command Division — i.e. a primary reason for promoting someone to admiral is to have them be responsible for a large number of people, which is usually a job for an administrative or command expert; there are cases where you would prefer to have an engineering or security expert managing a large number of people, but they are rarer.

Tactical and Weapons Officers

During the 2260s, operation of shipboard phasers was at least partially executed by the Phaser Control crew, a measure perhaps introduced following the Control Crisis of 2257 or possibly as an anti-telepresence mechanism; these personnel wore Command Gold, reflecting their close relationship to the Flight Control department. It is likely that there is significant cross-training between the two departments during this era, during a time when shipboard weaponry was mounted in single location as opposed to arrays, thus necessitating close teamwork between the two. (This would also dovetail with Chekov’s eventual transfer from navigator to tactical officer in the 2270s.)

A century later, the role of the solitary tactical officer has once again emerged, apparently replacing Phaser Control crews, and reflecting a general trend back towards automation. Until the 2370s, tactical officers were again in the Operations Division, likely due to closer personnel integration with the Security Department, and with the Engineering Department, as weapons systems become more reliant on the computer. (For a real-life analogue, consider that accountants of 100 years ago required high mathematical aptitude; nowadays, wizardry with Excel is just as important if not more.)

However, by 2379, Worf appears to be serving as tactical officer again on the Enterprise while still wearing Command Red. It is possible that tactical officers once again moved back into the Command Division during the Dominion War, as battle tactics shifted more toward fleet engagements and away from one-on-one dogfights. In that environment, a tactical officer would be more akin to a multitasking commander.

Comparing The Divisions

The three divisions form a spectrum of fundamental approaches: the Science Division works slow and deep; the Command Division must work broadly and often with urgency; and the Operations Division falls in the middle, emphasizing straightforward practicality.

Both starship commanders and flight controllers must make split-second choices; engineers rarely must do this and scientists almost never. Security and tactical officers will sometimes need to make split-second choices, though mainly under the commands of a senior officer, and almost invariably within the specific confines of their discipline; they are drilled in making the kind of split-second decisions they need, almost to the point where it is automatic. It would be unusual for security to multitask, though less so for tactical officers, which is why we see that role bouncing between divisions. While doctors too will need to make split-second decisions, their approach, as described above, is fundamentally different from those in the command division — in essence, only within the command division is it acceptable for officers to be slightly reckless – scientists, engineers, security personnel and most of all doctors must be more conservative.

Of course, these divisions only reflect the fundamental approaches of basic training, the "starting points" for each officer. Starfleet officers of all backgrounds are expected to grow and diversify their skills; just because someone received scientific training at the Academy doesn't mean that they can never pick up the practical approaches used in operations. An engineer certainly should not shy away from the slow, in-depth style of the sciences, nor should a scientist avoid the interdisciplinary approach of the command division.

[continued below]

11
Uniform color reflects the fundamental approaches of each department: a grand theory of Starfleet uniform colors (startrek.website)
 

The history of Starfleet uniforms is long and varied, and reaches back earlier than the dawn of the Federation itself. But despite a wide-ranging colorful history, each era of Starfleet uniforms can be placed into one of two categories: lots of colors (one for each department), or few colors (departments grouped into divisions). The department-specific approach was used for about 80 years, from the mid 2270s (Star Trek: The Motion Picture) through the mid-century mark of the 24th century, giving each department (Command, Helm, Navigation, Engineering, Communications, Security, Services, Sciences, and Medical) a unique color.

For the rest of Starfleet history, a simplified structure has been employed, grouping various departments into what Memory Alpha and others have deemed “divisions,” with a single color per division. Despite many tweaks in the color assignments, the divisions themselves have remained remarkably consistent across 60 years of production history (and some three centuries of in-universe history.)

I propose that uniform color reflects fundamental differences in the basic approaches of each department.

Sciences

The departments in the “Sciences Division” focus on analysis of primary data sources.

The biologist works directly from her data, the doctor works directly from his patient's symptoms and readings. They are inherently skeptical and conservative in their approaches, methodical, with a preference for slower work that dives very deep. They synthesize conclusions based directly on their immediate findings.

Their work is generally fairly focused on a specific area– in theory, complications won't swing in from left field. Doctors have it more complicated– their approach does resemble those used in the command division, to some degree (see below). But the inherent skepticism, as well as the scientific rigor of their work and their historical connection to the sciences keep them within this division.

During the 2150’s, characters such as T’Pol, Sato, Cutler and Jessica Wolff all wore “Sciences Blue” at various points. From the 2230s through the 2250s, science officers on ships like the Shenzhou, Archimedes, and Discovery wore “Sciences Silver”, while their counterparts on Constitution-class vessels such as the Enterprise wore “Sciences Blue”. The Constitution variants were subsequently rolled out fleetwide, in a slightly different shade of blue. Roughly a century later, a variety of characters including physicians, psychologists and scientists all once again wear “Sciences Blue.”

The sole major exception to the color triad occurs during the first half of the 23rd century. Both on the USS Kelvin in 2233, and on the Shenzhou and on the Discovery during the 2250s, medical officers are shown wearing white. It is possible this practice was halted not longer after the Federation-Klingon War, perhaps specifically to avoid giving hostile intruders such obvious targets.

This division include general science officers, physicians, psychologists, astrobiologists, xenoanthropologists, and a range of other scientific disciplines.

Operations

The departments in the “Operations Division” focus on practical application.

They take scientific findings with which they are very familiar and put them to use; they problem-solve, with a low threshold for acceptable results: if it works (safely), then it's good. Engineers use physical scientific principles to problem-solve, while security and tactical officers use social science and strategy principles.

Creative, out-of-the-box solutions are encouraged, and being able to think on your feet and solve the problem in front of you is critical. Their work is also generally fairly localized, allowing them to focus very specifically on the problem at hand, before moving on to the next one.

During the 2150’s, characters such as Tucker and Reed wore “Operations Red”. From the 2230s through the 2250s, engineers on ships like the Shenzhou, Archimedes, and Discovery wore “Operations Copper”, while their counterparts on Constitution-class vessels such as the Enterprise wore “Operations Red”. The Constitution variants were subsequently rolled out fleetwide, with a transitional variant seen in 2265 which adopted the full-color tunic style, but maintained a beige coloring reminiscent of the previous copper (see note). Roughly a century later, engineers, security officers and tactical officers all wear “Operations Gold.”

This division includes engineers, technicians, operations managers, security personnel, communications officers, tactical officers (though see below), and sometimes certain administrative personnel including yeomen.

Command

The departments in the “Command Division” are required to engage in complex analyses and decision making.

They take information from multiple sources simultaneously and rapidly synthesize comprehensive conclusions, while potentially having to pivot their focus on short notice, temporarily leaving one problem unsolved, efficiently multitasking.

During the 2150’s, characters such as Archer and Mayweather wore “Command Gold”. In 2233, command personnel aboard the USS Kelvin wore “Command Blue” in a full-color tunic that resembled the Constitution variants shown some twenty years later. Also in the 2230s, then-Lieutenant Georgiou wears the “blue jumpsuit” variant, which uses a different color triad; given the precedent established in 2257 (and in the 2370s), it is likely that the Kelvin variants coexisted alongside the “blue jumpsuit” variants — perhaps the Kelvin was the Enterprise of its day.

From the 2230s through the 2250s, command personnel on ships like the Shenzhou, Archimedes, and Discovery wore “Command Gold” in the “blue jumpsuit” variant, while their counterparts on Constitution-class vessels such as the Enterprise wore “Command Gold” of various shades in the “full color tunic” variant. The Constitution variants were subsequently rolled out fleetwide, with a green wraparound variant seemingly only available to captains. Roughly a century later, starship captains and space station commanders, executive officers and flight control personnel all wear “Command Red.”

Aboard starships, the members of the Command Division are well-established: captains, first officers and flight control officers. However, as we peek further into Starfleet, we find other departments represented there as well.

[continued below]

The Events of “Dramatis Personae” should have been caused by the Prophets — and maybe they were in c/daystrominstitute@startrek.website
[–] Equals@startrek.website 1 points 1 year ago

Oh huh, that's a really interesting idea about the implications of Machiavellianism for nonlinear beings. I really like the possibilities that affords for the Prophets -- I've long had mixed feelings about interpretations that give the Prophets agency because... like... they don't seem to necessarily making the Best Choices, but maybe it's different if they know how it all works out.

M-5, nominate this comment by @lwaxana_katana for an insightful remark about the implications of nonlinearity on Machiavellianism. Ah wait, we haven't got that set up yet.... well, we'll get to that!

The Events of “Dramatis Personae” should have been caused by the Prophets — and maybe they were in c/daystrominstitute@startrek.website
[–] Equals@startrek.website 1 points 1 year ago (2 children)

A Watsonian Theory

As you can see above, it actually takes very little to suggest (from an in-universe perspective) that the Prophets may have been the agents behind the Valerian Situation.

We know that the Prophets have the ability — both through the Orbs and through direct interaction in the wormhole — to influence people telepathically. The most obvious example of this was when they “de-evolved” Zek in “Profit Motive,” but we also see things like the “Orb Shadow” events, and of course Orb Encounters themselves.

It’s possible that the Prophets themselves created the telepathic energy matrix, set it on the Klingon ship, and then let events carry on through there. (The energy spheres on Saltah’na being implanted memories.) Their objective would have been to indirectly bolster the relationship between Sisko and the Bajorans by allowing them to “get it out of their systems” — inoculating them against further conflict.

Normally I’m pretty wary of theories like this — “xyz happened because the Prophets did it” or “because Q did it”. But the confluence of alien telepathic influence, the presence of the wormhole, and the direct impact on the good of Bajor — which the Prophets take an active and repeated interest in — makes it seem a little bit less arbitrary.

Put In A Different Light

I’ve written before about how the Prophets are underdeveloped as characters, and how there is distinct benefit to retconning things as being caused by them. Previously I had described how the idea of a Prophets-influenced Rom serves to put the Prophets in a bit of a different light, moving them from this ambiguous portrayal wherein they are maybe good “people” (and maybe they aren’t), to a slightly more positive depiction wherein they really do “care”. Tying them into Rom’s story arc gives us more to judge them by.

Tying the Prophets into the Valerian Situation also gives us more to judge them by. In contast, though, this would put them in a more ambiguous light. Yes, the crew of DS9 learned their lesson and made sure to play nice together, ensuring that The Sisko would stay around long enough to do his The Sisko Thing.

But. Um. All those Klingons. Yeah, they died. Lots of stabbing, big boom.

To be honest, I don’t think this is entirely out of character for them. Don’t forget that they also had no problem overwriting Zek’s personality, they had no problem using Akorem Laan to send Sisko a message, they had no problem hijacking Sarah Sisko’s body, they had no problem winking thousands of Dominion soldiers out of existence, and they apparently had no problem with the Occupation of Bajor. These Klingons were among the most innocent bystanders, especially when the severity of their fate is considered, but it wouldn’t be wildly out of character for them.

Am I planning to add this idea to my personal headcanon? Probably not. It paints the Prophets as just a little too Machiavellian for my tastes. But, if some tie-in author ever decided to run with it, I wouldn’t dismiss it as outlandish.

In Conclusion

“Dramatis Personae” is a good example of an early DS9 episode, in that it has lots of really interesting pieces that almost fit nicely into the overall lore of the series, but which just ever so slightly miss. “Past Prologue,” “A Man Alone,” “Captive Pursuit,” “Battle Lines,” and “Second Sight” are other examples of this — we can recognize the common ideas that these early episode share with later, more developed storylines, but they don’t quite sync up.

Which is fine. One thing to say about DS9’s first season: it is, by far, the strongest first season of any of the Berman-era series. It doesn’t have too many great episodes, but basically the entire season is solid. None of the episodes I’ve named are particularly “bad”, just sometimes less interesting. The fact that they don’t “line up” as well as they might with future episodes isn’t really something to complain about — just to note.

I do wonder sometimes — what would DS9 have been like if they had planned things out more? Obviously there are some days (like today) when I say, “Ugh, it would have been so awesome if they had done more to tie in the First Season. Sometimes it feels like the show didn’t even start until Season Three!” And then there are other days when I wonder if maybe the reason it worked as well as it did is precisely because they didn’t plan it out. Maybe that’s the secret.

4
The Events of “Dramatis Personae” should have been caused by the Prophets — and maybe they were (startrek.website)
 

Paths Not Taken

Deep Space Nine is replete with paths not taken, in terms of storylines. What if Jadzia really had died in “Change of Heart”? What if they had gone to Sigma Iotia II for the 30th anniversary episode instead of learning about the troubles with tribbles? What if Ro Laren, Sito Jaxa, or Thomas Riker had returned?

One path that was never really taken (and as far as I can tell, never seriously contemplated) is major political drama between the Starfleet and Bajoran crews on the station. Yes, Season 2 started with the extremely underrated Circle Trilogy, but that conflict was Far Away on Bajor (and inflamed by Cardassian influence). Beyond a few differences of opinion here and there, Kira and Sisko never seriously clash, which is a little odd, especially given how much grey area they were working in — a Bajoran-owned space station run by Starfleet officers? “We’re just here to administrate”? What does that even mean?

But there is one exception: “Dramatis Personae”.

Sorta.

The Valerian Situation May Have Been A Vaccine

See, “Dramatis Personae” shows this exact conflict of Starfleet vs Bajoran playing out… but under alien telepathic influence, dramatizing through lived experience the conflict that destroyed a civilization. It’s an interesting blend of real-world details being repurposed into the aliens’ script — the dynamics are the same, even though the particulars are different.

And so we do get a bit of a preview of what this conflict might look like — especially from Odo and Quark, who are unaffected. But, in all honesty, it does feel like a bit of a cheat, since it becomes clear at the end that no one was in control of themselves, whatsoever.

Now, I think this episode actually can be used to explain why we don’t see a real conflict break out on the station. After being released from the alien influence, Sisko and Kira (to say nothing of O’Brien, Jadzia, and Bashir) no doubt reviewed the logs, reports, and Odo’s account of what happened. They would have seen how quickly the situation unraveled. It would be a vivid reminder to them that they are holding this situation together purely by their goodwill and willingness to cooperate.

Rather than exacerbate existing tensions, the events of “Dramatis Personae” may have allowed the Starfleet and Bajoran crews to reap the benefits of the conflict without suffering the consequences. Thereafter, when minor conflicts would arise, they’d be seen in the light of the Valerian Situation, and addressed with that much more urgency to keep things from totally unraveling.

In this way, the Valerian Situation may have been a vaccine that inoculated the crew against destructive division going forward.

A Doylist Commentary

Though (in)famous among the Star Trek lore for its heavy serialization, DS9 should perhaps be equally (in)famous for its lack of planning around its serialization. There was no long-term arc, no long-term vision for the series. Except for a bit in the seventh season, there is no intentional foreshadowing — only post hoc foreshadowing that arises out of a choice to follow up on previous stories. The Dominion War was only planned to last six episodes — right up until it wasn’t. Julian Bashir’s genetic code was utterly normal — right up until it wasn’t. Jed Bartlet didn’t have a chronic illness, right up until Sorkin had the idea for Charlie and the President to be stuck in the residence watching daytime TV — oops, wrong franchise!

Likewise, in the late first season, the Prophets were probably not on the writers’ minds. Even on the (relatively rare) occasion that they decide to tell stories about the Bajorans during the first two seasons, the Prophets are very much a background fixture — a piece of cultural heritage, not active players in the drama. (Contrast that with later seasons when the Prophets begin to have an active influence — everything from “Accession” to “Prophet Motive” to “Sacrifice of Angels” and so on.)

But in hindsight, as I will lay out below, the events of “Dramatis Personae” could easily have been caused by the Prophets, rather than by some one-off alien species from the Gamma Quadrant.

Now, to be frank, I don’t think the writers had decided (at that point) what they wanted to do with the Prophets. It’s only in the context of the series overall that it might seem “in character” for the Prophets to do something like this. At the time, only 17 episodes in, the Prophets were still pretty uncharacterized, and what we had seen of them so far pointed more toward a hands-off approach.

But if they had decided earlier on that the Prophets were going to be active players in the drama of the series, this episode — with only a few minor modifications — could have been used to lay the groundwork for that.

Being so early in the series, they probably would have opted for something a bit more mysterious, a bit more Twilight Zone. Something like this:

An Alternate Story

The Klingon ship returns from the Gamma Quadrant, with everyone aboard comatose from personal combat injuries, save one, who beams to Ops before promptly collapsing into a coma himself. O’Brien detects that the ship is about to explode, but manages to beam out the warp core just in time for it to spectacularly explode, some distance away from the station. The episode continues on unaltered from there.

Then, instead of finding the energy spheres on a distant world that they identify as the former homeworld of the Saltah’na, the Klingons find the energy spheres on Idran, near the far mouth of the wormhole. They aren’t able to identify the civilization of origin, but Odo’s ear perk up when he hears them describe the spheres as being “hour-glass-shaped”. Cut to a scene of Odo standing in the Bajoran temple, contemplating an Orb. He shares this revelation with no one.

The rest of the episode continues unchanged, until the last scene. Kira has her heart-to-heart apology with Sisko, and Sisko teases her about letting the mutiny slide “this time”. She mentions that the Klingons have all recovered and are on their way home to recuperate, and then heads back out to Ops as Odo enters. He is very unneasy and explains that he has something he needs to share with Sisko, something very delicate and potentially inflammatory. Sisko gently tells him to go on.

ODO: “Sir, in reviewing the Klingons’ logs, I discovered an… alarming coincidence. As you know, the Klingons discovered the telepathic energy matrix on an abandoned planet on the other side of the wormhole.”
SISKO: “Yes, in the Idran system.”
ODO: “That is correct. What I did not put in my official report… is that the Klingon science officer described the devices they discovered as being ‘hour-glass-shaped.’”
camera on Sisko’s face as he reacts
ODO: “As you have experienced first hand, Bajoran orbs do have telepathic capabilities…”
SISKO: “And Idran is not much farther away from the wormhole than Bajor is. Which means, it’s possible that this entire affair was somehow caused by the aliens who live in the wormhole.”
ODO: “You can see why I said this was potentially inflammatory. The Orbs may be instruments of alien influence, used for nefarious purposes.”
SISKO: turns to look off into the distance, maybe out the window “I’m not so sure about that. Bajoran history is replete with personal accounts of Orb encounters that were revelatory, life-changing, and overwhelmingly for the better.” turns to look back at Odo, looking him in the eye “And my own experience with an Orb suggested nothing nefarious.”
ODO: still skeptical “But you don’t deny that the Orbs may be influencing people and events.”
SISKO: starts to speak, but pauses. He comes around to the other side of the desk, to stand next to Odo, and look out at Ops — at Kira specifically. “Maybe. But in this case, perhaps they helped us out.”
Odo looks out at Kira as well, and then they both look at the Starfleet and Bajoran crews working together — O’Brien with his Bajoran technicians, Kira planning duty rosters with Dax… every team in Ops integrated with Starfleeters and Bajorans alike.
Sisko and Odo share a look as we fade out.

If they had done this, it would have laid the groundwork for any number of other stories throughout the series. It would have heightened Sisko’s arc as a skeptic disbeliever turned Emissary. And, combined with “Duet” and “In The Hands Of The Prophets”, would have made for an informal “three-part season finale” that recapitulates the main ideas of the First Season, which I think would be pretty awesome.

[continued below]

What would Star Trek shows look like if the senior staff didn't go on all the away missions? in c/daystrominstitute@startrek.website
[–] Equals@startrek.website 0 points 1 year ago (1 children)

I'd argue that, in some ways, Deep Space Nine is the answer to your question. For the most part, DS9 did not utilize the "away team" concept much at all. Now, if you are asking more broadly about the effect of putting our characters "in danger", than I suppose you could argue that all of DS9 was an "away mission", but I think the dynamic was significantly different.

With respect to TNG, I suspect showing a wider diversity of crew on away missions would have heightened the feeling of the Enterprise-D as a "university town", with a range of experts in different fields, but where the senior staff are seen -- not as less expendable -- but rather as generalists, or perhaps even more like "philosophers" (in an old-fashioned sense of the term), who must take in information from a much wider range of sources and figure out what to do with it.

Dramatically, however, I think this would have made TNG even more "talky" than it already was. Without the senior staff going planetside and seeing the strange new world for themselves, I think we would have that much less emotional involvement with the "extra of the week" doing the exploring instead. Could it have worked with, as you suggest, a subcast of "away team" characters? Perhaps, but I think you would have needed to remove some of the existing cast, or reimagine them significantly -- I don't think TNG could accommodate too many more regulars. (A rebooted TNG where Geordi, Worf, and Tasha are the "landing party" crew could be interesting, but would be very different from what we originally had.)

That all being said... I've long felt that Star Trek was at its best when it told stories that could be told as stageplays (or could be easily reimagined as stageplays). A TNG without away teams would work very well as a stageplay, and could serve as a way to focus the writing: the story has to be compelling through the dialogue and acting alone, and can't lean on the tropes of the "dangerous away mission" or the "mystifying abandoned alien planet".

8
Hyperferengity, or, The Pathos of Quark, Son of Keldar (startrek.website)
 

In recent years, I have been surprised to find one part of DS9 that keeps on getting better with age: the Ferengi. As vehicle of social commentary, they go where Trek never went before.

Today, I want to focus on Ferengi society being used as an indictment of what we might call "patriarchal masculinity" (as in, expectations that a patriarchal society has about what masculinity is and how its men should embody it), specifically, by contrasting how Quark and Rom react to their father’s perceived shortcomings.

What do we know about Keldar?

Quark idolizes him as the traditional head of the household. He recalls Keldar’s exasperation and gloom with respect to his wife, Ishka — “Quark, I don’t know what I’m going to do about that female!” Quark acknowledges that Keldar was successful enough in business, but feels that he could have been much more so, if not for Ishka’s troublesome behavior. In short, he recognizes his father’s shortcomings, but blames his mother for them.

Rom, in contrast, sees their father in more mundane terms. Unlike Quark, who left home right away, Rom stayed for years and, as an adult, perceived Keldar’s lack of business acumen. “He couldn’t hold on to latinum if you sewed it into his pants!”

Ishka speaks lovingly of her deceased husband, but does little to hide her belief that he did not have the “lobes” for business. If memory serves, she once privately remarked to Quark that Rom had inherited his father’s lobes, referring to his poor business skills (though I may be recalling that incorrectly).

So, it appears that Keldar was lacking in terms of that which makes someone a “real Ferengi.”

Let’s consider his sons.

Rom follows in his father’s footsteps, trying to be a successful businessman, for many years, with apparently just as little success. It’s only after watching his son join Starfleet and forming the union (at O’Brien’s encouragement) that he changes, seeking his own path outside of Ferengi culture and its expectations.

Rom witnesses his father’s suffering and himself suffers for decades for not living up to Ferengi standards and eventually responds to that suffering by leaving the game altogether (until he comes back to reform it— a story for another time).

Quark, in contrast, witnesses his father’s suffering, and beyond being ashamed of it, does everything he can to avoid it— both by leaving home as quickly as possible, and by cultivating what we might call “hyperferengity” in himself— an unparalleled focus on being a “true Ferengi”, beyond the shadow of anyone’s doubt. He responds to his father’s suffering by doing everything he can to avoid the shortcomings that caused it.

Quark sees an unfair game and responds by obsessing over winning; Rom sees an unfair game and eventually leaves to play something more fair.

Rom’s suffering is obvious in the early seasons of Deep Space Nine. Mocked and despised by a brother who likely sees him as the embodiment of their father’s shame, his own natural talents and interests squelched by a system that has no use for them.

But I think the costs that Quark pays are more subtle. He is presented opportunities for growth— Pel, the union, the post-Zek New Economy— and he either agonizes over accepting them, or dismisses them out of hand. This culminates in his declaration of the bar as the “last outpost of what made Ferenginar great”— a steadfast and unrelenting commitment to an idealized version of the past, with a refusal to engage with the future. (Make Ferenginar great again, anyone?) I might not describe any of this as a “cost,” except that I believe that Quark is doing it all basically as a reaction to his father (or more specifically, his shame for having such a father). He is driven by his own pathos more than anything else. He is not his own man: he is driven by fear— fears that his brother could overcome, but not he.

Now, Ferengi business acumen is often coded as masculinity— “he has the lobes for business”, “you wouldn’t have the lobes to do something so gutsy!”, “he has the tiny lobes of a female!” (not direct quotes, but those are the sentiments). Here, I have coined the term "hyperferengity" in the same vein as "hypermasculinity."

So, take the informal psychoanalysis above, and replace all the references to business acumen with references to masculinity, and we find an allegory for how societal expectations of masculinity can end up hurting everyone— both those who “pass the test” and those who fail— and how the trauma of one generation gets passed down, in manners subtle and gross, on to the next.

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