In today’s episode, two storylines get equal custody of the book. In one, Picard and Crusher investigate a nasty bird flu, but the way their hosts treat them won’t fly if they don’t want to wind up with an empty nest. In the other, Riker and Troi run damage control on a rogue observer whose shabby treatment of the Prime Directive demonstrates exactly why they have it in the first place. Can you get addicted to phaser stuns? Will Barclay ever find a completely healthy way to unwind? And how do you know if you’re a main character or an NPC? All this and more in The Death of Princes, the book with hands across the water, hands across the sky.

The Death of Princes
Author: John Peel
Pages: 2761As these books are now starting to have previews of forthcoming ones at the end, it should be noted that page counts will not include these previews.
Published: January 1997
Timeline: Late season 6, before “Timescape” (6×25)
Prerequisites: None
Not to be confused with: The death of Prince, a tragic event that, even nearly six years on, the music world still has not fully recovered from

The Enterprise is summoned to Buran, a planet suffering from a disease with an eye-popping fatality rate. Buran recently joined the Federation, but public opinion on the move was split nearly down the middle, and with early signs pointing to Andorian traders bringing the sickness with them, many of them feel validated in their misgivings toward offworlders and membership in the Federation. It’s only thanks to the eminently reasonable Prince J’Kara that they’re able to get a foot in the door, but with so many of the Burani not wanting the Enterprise around, it looks like it’s going to be tough to make meaningful progress.

They’re not the only ones who need the Enterprise’s help though. Over on Iomides, a world on the cusp of checking off all the prerequisites for first contact, Federation observer Maria Wallace has decided it’s one of those times when the Prime Directive needs to be broken for the greater good. First Citizen Farra Chal has a solid shot at unifying the Iomedians under a single government, but others of his kind don’t want that, and word has it that there could be an assassination attempt against him brewing. Wallace fears that if successful, such an event could set the development Iomides back several centuries, and so she takes it upon herself to do something about it under the civilian guise she uses outside the base. Starn, the Vulcan commander of the hidden observation base, asks for some assistance in retrieving Wallace before she can do any permanent damage, and although Picard can’t spare the whole ship, he is able to break off a little bit of help for them, sending Riker, Troi, and a few others to see to the mess.

From there, the story proceeds to jump back and forth between the two plots at nearly clockwork intervals. Except for the saintly Prince J’Kara, the Burani aren’t very friendly or forthcoming with medical data that could help Dr. Crusher work on a cure, and by the looks of it, they’ve got about two months to change their tune before their entire race dies out. In addition, the disease’s near 100 percent fatality rate doesn’t pass Beverly’s sniff test—generally you expect at least a few people to develop immunity to such an epidemic, not no one—leading her to suspect a less natural origin. As for Iomides, a team infiltrates the hidden Federation observation base before Riker’s team can get there and abducts Commander Starn. A human getting in trouble is one thing, but learning about Vulcans would blow Iomedian minds too hard too fast, so Riker and company need to get in and execute a fast and flawless cleanup mission before Iomedian society gets prematurely rocked by the knowledge of the existence of people from other worlds.

If you’re worried that two stories sharing one book will dilute one or both, you’re right to be, because it kind of does. Both plots could have adequately serviced a full novel on their own; I don’t have a satisfactory explanation for why they’re hitched together like this. Instead, because we have both, twice the normal time has to be spent on setup, and as a result, several key figures don’t get introduced until over halfway through, leaving little time to develop more than a single dimension. Brace yourself for hammy villains who deliver such scintillating dialogue as “It must be all his doing, don’t you see?” and “You’re about to witness my ultimate rise to power on this planet ” with straight faces.

That said, the final product turns out relatively okay on balance, because Peel manages to touch on a lot of Big Ideas that are worth chewing on long after the final turn of the page. One that radiates from both arcs is the tug-of-war between incrementalism and sudden change, and which is better for a society on the verge of a breakthrough. It’s a question that remains likely to resonate with today’s progressive thinker, and just as in real life, there’s no easy answer. There are also some intriguing things going on with gender inequity on Iomides. Riker cleverly tries to leverage this against the antagonists at one point to exploit a chink in their armor, and the resulting interplay is indeed fascinating. (It’s also worth noting how Deanna and her redshirt partner pull off their part of the mission flawlessly, while Riker and his coterie of dudes get captured in fairly short order.)

I admit I was a little concerned about one half being a Prime Directive cautionary tale, but to Peel’s credit, he demonstrates a much better grasp of it than some recent instances we’ve seen. Of particular note is Maria Wallace’s rationalization for breaking it:

But she knew her history: Many starship captains had made judgment calls and deliberately ignored or subverted the Prime Directive when the occasion called for it. […] Who hadn’t heard of Kirk, Sulu, T’Shaar, Belak, or Gardner? They had made judgment calls and defied the Prime Directive when they knew in their hearts that [it] was the right thing to do. (pp. 5, 6)

Where Wallace loses the thread is that she is nowhere close to being a Kirk or a Sulu, or even those other three. Seeing the consequences of this line of thinking play out is devastating, and I think it’s because even when we know it’s not going to end well, something about it appeals to our ego. Everyone styles themselves the main character of their own lives, but our perspectives about where we fit into the bigger picture aren’t always so clear-headed. Some of us move and shake enough to sustain entire seasons, series, and films; others of us amount to a one-episode appearance or even just a walk-on part on the stage of life. Although Maria Wallace loses sight of which one she is, it’s easy to understand and even sympathize with her logic, even as it ends in senseless tragedy for her.

Even though it gave me plenty of brain food to snack on, I still wish The Death of Princes had gone with one story idea or the other. If I had my pick, I’d probably have taken the bird plague, since there’s a lot in there about pushing against the current of older generations’ selfishness and entitlement that, as a millennial, I find poignant and extremely relatable. Either would have produced a solid story on its own, though. Unfortunately, they’re both poorly served by having to shack up together, and though they both start to pick up as they approach their respective climaxes, it’s a teensy bit too little, too late.

Ten Forward Toast

Neither Starn nor Maria Wallace makes it through the book, but it’s a little shocking how cruelly the Iomedian villains treat them. Starn gets tortured to death between his capture and the next time we hear of him, and since he’s a Vulcan, you know he had to endure a lot for it to kill him. And Maria Wallace gets plugged so abruptly, you barely have time to pick your jaw up off the floor. See, kids? See what happens when you break the Prime Directive?

MVP & LVP

• This week’s MVP goes to Prince J’Kara. When I described him as “saintly” earlier, I wasn’t overstating it. Unlike his fellow Burani, he is never anything less than friendly, measured, accommodating, and perfectly reasonable—practically Christ-like. He’s a cut above his garbage dad in every conceivable way, and he easily walks away with the award.
• The LVP this time around is Geordi. It’s one of the “doesn’t get anything to do here” variety; he shows up exactly once that I can recall, for about a page, helping Data narrow the scan for plague agents. Peel has previously shown a soft spot for Barclay, though aside from that, there’s not really any compelling reason for why Riker chooses him for the away team and not Geordi.

Stray Bits

• The admiral of the week is Admiral Halsey, a name I’d lay good money on being a sly nod to the Paul McCartney song of (half) the same name. There’s always some rando admiral issuing new assignments, and it’s a wonder more of them don’t have referencey names like this.
• When Picard assigns Riker to the Iomedian case, Riker says he doesn’t think he would have been much good in a plague situation anyway. And you know what? I kind of agree with him. It’s good to have that kind of self-awareness.
• Starn suggests to Wallace that she reread The Prime Directive in Action, written by someone named Morgan. This doesn’t appear to be a reference to anything or anyone, though if Morgan is a captain, they shouldn’t be confused with Captain Morgen. (p. 3)
• When Riker goes to hand Barclay his mission assignment, he finds him on the holodeck rocking out with a noise band called Ebenezer Todd & the Sky Monkeys. Not the worst band name I’ve ever heard, but close, I’d wager. Anyway, I’m not sure such an activity is doing Barclay’s hearing any favors, but he’s not reimagining his crewmates as musketeers and goddesses of empathy, so I’ll give it a pass. (p. 37)
• Deanna and her undercover partner Kessler use some handy-dandy drug-filled “knockout patches” in their half of the Maria Wallace recovery effort. For a brief moment, this made me wonder if a phaser stun could be tuned to produce the same sort of euphoric effect, though I just as quickly dismissed it. Before long, you’d have people turning phasers on themselves just to get some chill vibes. All well and good until, of course, someone accidentally puts it on the wrong setting. (p. 163)
• Barclay gets a few genuine laugh lines toward the end, but this one was my favorite: “‘I’m completely impervious to pain,’ [Barclay] said unconvincingly. / ‘Really?’ / ‘Well, not my own, of course,’ [he] admitted.” (p. 212)

Final Assessment

Decidedly average in execution, though it does have enough interesting ideas to make it worth your while should you decide to take the plunge. Because there are two stories crammed into one book, however, it takes a while to set the pieces up, which delays all but the most superficial character development and leaves us with pulpy, one-dimensional antagonists. It does pick up eventually, though not in time to fully recover from its slow start. Not bad though, all told.

NEXT TIME: Batten down the pylons for The Tempest