I stand hesitantly, slowly leaving my chair with a nervous glance in all directions. I cannot meet the eyes of the motley group of oddballs, geeks, and misfits parked in the shrinking circle of seats around me. I’m vaguely aware that the collective IQ in this room easily surpasses that of all the politicians on Capital Hill combined, but it’s also painfully obvious that this assembly has all the social skills of the stale air in the empty room down the hall. Still, this is home. It’s were I belong. Together, alongside those who can give you the prefix code to the starship Reliant’s command console more easily than they can offer you their own phone number. In the company of those who can name the bridge crew of the Enterprise C as effortlessly as they can name their own best friends or dismissively tender the name of Miles O’Brien’s son as if he were expected over for dinner later that evening. I know I’m not the only one in this room who has a large framed portrait of Leonard Nimoy hanging proudly on his bedroom wall above my wife and I as we sleep- yes, believe it or not, we marry, too.
“My name is John,” I say as I hastily sneak a glance at my shuffling feet, “And I’m a Trekkie.”
There are those who say that Star Trek is dead or dying. Talking heads circle like vultures over the carcass of the single greatest science fiction enterprise in the history of mankind. Ironically, and given the nature of their affliction, perhaps not unexpectedly, many of the franchise’s harshest critics, many of its most vocal naysayers, rank among its most ardent fans. The two most common condemnations seem to gravitate toward two poles. One, the show has lost its creativity. After more than six hundred and fifty episodes, the storytelling well has simply run dry. Two, somewhere along the way, those rowing the boat have inexplicably lost their compass. The vision is gone. The direction is unclear.
Perhaps the critics are at least partially right. Trek does seem headed for hibernation of an indeterminate length in the near future. Mainstream popularity has undeniably plummeted. But those who think that Rodenberry’s dream will go the way of the dodo have no grasp of either its origins or the deep roots that it’s planted into the collective psyche of pop-culture.
Many dismissed Captain Kirk and the original series some three and a half decades past, but the show proved ageless and eventually drew a cult following that shook the entire entertainment world with a prosperous life in syndication.
With that in mind, don’t be surprised in the coming years if another great awakening transpires in the grassroots of trekdom. Because, the franchise’s truest gem, trek’s greatest stories, its most endearing characters, went largely unseen by the mainstream public.
Deep Space Nine is Star Trek at its finest.
Deep Space Nine premiered on January 3, 1993, in the middle of The Next Generation’s season six and ran the course of its first two seasons alongside the finale for Picard and the Enterprise D, long after TNG had become the most popular show in syndication history and helped catapult the franchise to the peak of its mainstream popularity. With its exciting season two conclusion airing less than three weeks after TNG’s last hoorah, “All Good Things,” to the average viewer, DS9 was like the awkward, scrawny runt with the squeaky changing voice next to his senior class president and quarterback of the football team big brother. Barely out from under the shadow of TNG, about a dozen episodes of DS9’s season three followed in the fall of 1994, but the powers that be were undoubtedly worried about messing with a proven formula, and the mainstream media was already abuzz about the new third trek series set in the twenty-fourth century, Voyager, and its return to a more familiar premise.
It could certainly be argued that DS9’s two biggest chances to claim the kind of mass appeal that followed TNG were with its season one debut, when it dangerously did something different opposite a show in full stride at its zenith, and during season three, after TNG was moving to the big screen. But the studio was already pushing the safer more formulaic Voyager, and less hardcore fans of the show, the coveted bulk of TNG’s audience, simply jumped from Picard and Enterprise to Janeway and Voyager. Little brother was lost in the shuffle. By the time Voyager’s storylines eventually grew stale and alienated much of the mainstream masses, DS9, in all its richly rewarding glory, was quietly nearing its seven-year conclusion, and a show that had always demanded more attention and familiarity from its audience with its wide array of diversified characters and its deeply rooted and interweaving story arcs never really had a chance.
What a shame.
Deep Space Nine was a show swimming in controversy and confrontation, a place peopled by a crew that often didn't get along, even clashed routinely, became IMO the richest backdrop ever seen in Star Trek's long history. Vistor found a heart for Kira as the episodes unfolded, becoming deliciously multi-facted, making her, in the end, easily my favorite female character in all of Star Trek. Odo, so intially shallow, became, with his endearing, evolving relationship with Kira, his jabbing interaction with Quark, and even his connection with Garak and others, one of Trek's most intriguing characters, as apealing in his search for "humanity" as either Spock or Data. The masterful Shimmerman made the annoying Ferengi into a delightful statement on mankind's darker side and, in so doing, brought a comedic depth unseen since TOS. Robinson's Garak gave the show a kind of sinister appeal not seen before or after. Alaimo's Dukat, with his many evils laced with humanity, ultimately gave Trek IMO it's most dynamic and interesting villain. The Defiant gave the show another dimension, and The Dominion gave Trek it's most interesting and dangerous adversary.
No other Star Trek series captured the depth of characterization from top to bottom, with every role a significant one, critically interconnecting with the others. Odo/Kira, Sisko/Dax, Odo/Quark, Bashir/O'Brien, Worf/Dax, Bashir/Garak, Sisko/Jake, Jake/Nog, Sisko/Dukat...The ties were intriguing and provoking. Even the secondary storyline in the vast majority of episodes was very often as intriguing as the primary one, lending relationships like Rom/Quark, Rom/Nog, and Leeta/Rom a wonderful appeal.
DS9 was the first time Star Trek broke the mold and dared to let its main characters develop bonds with each other centered around the stuff that makes the richest stories of all, love. It was the first and last to truly serialize episodes, boldly adding a depth and connectivity unseen in the history of Trek. Often, even the smallest nuance mentioned in one episode had an impact on another later one. You really *cared* about the characters and, instead of, for the most part, isolating the unfolding plot from one 45-minute episode to the next, you always wondered how one episode would effect the next and later installments. Rather than a collection of stories, in DS9, the collection itself became the story and allowed the talented writers to draw together all parts of Trek and weave the most diversified, exciting, interesting, satisfying, and endearing tale ever seen in the history of the franchise.
Trekkies know. Yes. Deep Space Nine has a cult following and may well be the most popular of all the series amongst the hardcore, that audience that tunes in weekly, no matter what. But you still see pictures of Star Trek’s illustrious Captains without DS9’s Benjamin Sisko. Scant months after the show ended its seven-year run it was next to impossible to find reruns on your local programming. After all these years, DS9 is still little brother, still the afterthought.
But little brother has grown up. He stands head and shoulders above the rest of the family. And if that family is to endure, little brother must come home and remind the rest of the world just how good Star Trek can be and what direction the future must travel…
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