Today’s Star Trek is rated TV-MA for blood, gore, violence, language, self-performed face surgery, nudity, sexual situations, and Jellico.

Reader discretion is advised.

House of Cards
Author: Peter David
Pages: 168
Published: July 1997
Timeline: 2373 is the present day of the story, and in terms of proximity to another show, the first four New Frontier books are closest to the end of season 5 of DS9, between “Blaze of Glory” (5×23) and “Empok Nor” (5×24)
Prerequisites: Though not official word of God, per se, many people consider Quintin Stone from A Rock and a Hard Place (TNG #10) to be a sort of “dry run”/prototype of the Mackenzie Calhoun character, and in any event, that’s one one hardly needs an excuse to reread. The Excalibur appeared in Peter David’s Vendetta, captained by Morgan Korsmo (now deceased). Soleta is a returning character from, of all things, David’s Starfleet Academy YA trilogy (and she won’t be the only one), though so far nothing of that experience factors into this story. Admirals Alynna Nechayev and (then-Captain) Edward Jellico first appeared in the “Chain of Command” two-parter (TNG 6×10+11), with the former returning for subsequent appearances in TNG and DS9.

As long as Star Trek novels have existed, they have not been considered canon by Gene Roddenberry or by Paramount.1Except for the novelization of The Motion Picture. But that’s the nice part about being the big boss man. The most restrictive limitation caused by this declaration was that the books could never have any meaningful impact on continuity, whether that meant affecting mainline events or having their own. For a while, this wasn’t a problem, since serialization wasn’t a priority. But first The Next Generation dipped a toe in the waters, then Deep Space Nine did a full-on cannonball, and the allure could no longer be denied. Everyone had tasted and seen that the Lord was good; authors and editors of a certain bent were no longer going to be content with an apartment in Oneoffsville when they had incontrovertible proof of what was possible.

Authors and editors like Peter David and John Ordover.

Enter New Frontier, the first line of Star Trek books to not be anchored by existing top-of-the-credits characters. The stated reason for its existence is to get back to the exploratory aspect of TOS and TNG while updating the tone for the grittier, realer 90s—to shepherd Star Trek into its Attitude Era, so to speak. It’s a little distressing to hear an actual Pocket Books editor trot out the hoary old “dS9 iSnT tReK cUz ThEy DoNt Go AnYwHeRe!!!” chestnut, but it just goes to show how intense the desire for Trek to primarily specialize in monster-of-the-week adventure was even then. Ordover compared the tonal shift to that from Hill Street Blues to NYPD Blue: serious enough in its original incarnation, yet greater depths remained to be plumbed.2Apropos of nothing, I just need a space to say I love NYPD Blue. I started watching it when I was in high school, which was near the end of its run, because it was a reliable source of naked butts and my little softcore-preferring self was definitely into that—but then a funny thing happened and I started actually liking the show. The linked scene is extremely fascinating to me, because it’s from the cold open of the first episode, and “pissy” and “bitch” were words you simply did not hear on network primetime in September 1993, much less within spitting distance of each other. I can imagine some of the adults in my life at the time being absolutely apoplectic over the series premiere; it’s also got a sex scene between David Caruso and Amy Brenneman that is only dated by the saxophone music and Brenneman’s absurdly high-cut panties and still makes me cross my legs almost 30 years after its first airing. The tone Ordover is talking about is specifically a stylistic one. That might seem like an odd clarification, but it’s an important one. Stylistic tone is a thing to shoot for, sure, but on its own it isn’t really a justification for starting a whole new series. Rather, what one comes to realize even before the end of this first quarter is that the real underlying reason for New Frontier‘s existence is to return to a certain thematic tone.

It’s obvious that what John Ordover and Peter David really wanted to do, but for some reason did not own up to in any source I checked out, was to bring the cowboy diplomacy of TOS into the look and vibe of TNG. Admiral Jellico even uses the exact word “cowboy”, spitting it out like he just took a spoonful of motor oil, to describe Mackenzie Calhoun, the onetime Xenexian revolutionary Captain Picard recommends to head up the mission to patrol Sector 221-G, a region of space torn asunder by the  downfall of the body that ruled over many of its worlds, the Thallonian Empire. In this case, “cowboy” doesn’t mean John Wayne so much as Sam Peckinpah. But I love The Wild Bunch, so that’s a fine enough starting point for me. Whether it will go one way or the other will depend, as it always does with Peter David books, on how well he manages to execute his uneven brand of idiosyncratic choices, which are arguably among the most YMMV in all of Trek lit.

Of course, that may very likely have been another reason New Frontier became a thing: to give a fan favorite like Peter David a Peter David–exclusive sandbox to do Peter David things, which, as you’ll know if you’ve read his previous Trek outings (or my writings about them), include a level of violence a few MPAA ratings north of a typical episode, a heaping dose of sex and nudity, and permadeath. On all these fronts, he delivers. A few baddies die in a grisly fashion at the hands of Calhoun, and he admits to Picard that he enjoys doing it. Despite clocking in at a mere 168 pages, there are no fewer than four naked people in this book (three of them female, two of them recognizable characters)3The identity of one isn’t revealed, but armed with even the most basic details of who comprises the Excalibur crew, it’s pretty obvious who it is., and in one memorable scene, Calhoun cauterizes the deep wound the Danteri military leader put in his face with a laser welder before passing out, as if lighting up a big neon sign saying “This ain’t yer daddy’s TNG!!”

Anyhow, this first installment, House of Cards delves into the pasts of three of the refit Excalibur’s crew—Mackenzie Calhoun, Vulcan/Romulan Saavik stand-in Soleta, and full Vulcan doctor Selar—before capturing every moment of the negotiations that lead up to the present-day mission.

Twenty years ago, the Danteri had steamrolled every planet they’d ever laid the eye of empire upon—until, that is, they got to Xenex and met Mackenzie Calhoun (or rather, M’k’n’zy of Calhoun, a stylization I will decline to use further). The rebellion is already mostly over by the time the story starts, and Calhoun has lured the remaining handful of Danteri troops into the Pit, a volatile zone of clashing biomes and erratic weather patterns that may or may not also bend time in some vague Nexus-like way. He takes most of them out with a rock slide booby trap, then barely bests the military leader in single combat. But when he tries to leave the Pit, his poor condition and delusional state get him lost, and in his wandering he has several visions, including one of Captain Picard, which is pretty impressive considering he’s never met him before.

That doesn’t remain true for long, however. After being rescued by a search party led by his brother D’ndai and spending a week recuperating, he wakes up to see Picard (captain of the Stargazer at this time) negotiating a truce between the Danteri and the Xenexians in his own house. Calhoun wants no part of a compromise and tells Picard, in so many words, to f___ off. But Picard sees a natural-born leader in Calhoun and leaves him with some captainly advice that plants the first seeds of thinking about what his life has in store for him beyond his victory on Xenex.

Meanwhile, Soleta’s story finds her getting busted while doing unauthorized research on the Thallonian homeworld and subsequently getting bailed out twice: first by Spock, who by now seems pathologically incapable of engaging in diplomacy that doesn’t have a signficant danger quotient, and later by a Thallonian noble named Si Cwan, seemingly in a fit of pique brought on by the joy her impudence toward the chancellor brought his little sister. Soleta repays Si Cwan by telling him that according to her readings, the Thallonian Empire has about twenty years left tops before it crumbles, giving him some rather distasteful food for thought. And Selar’s is a tale of pon farr, about which her initial skepticism starts to fade as things get hot and heavy—until her betrothed decides to reenact the beginning of Gerald’s Game. In the ensuing uncertainty over whether to perform her duties as a doctor or as a Vulcan, he loses both his life and his katra. Selar copes with this tragedy by renouncing all emotion for the rest of her life effective immediately, which I’m sure will probably work out just fine on an extremely horny Peter David–written starship.

All of these individual tales were really enjoyable, so I’m on board so far. If there’s one thing I’m a little less sold on than the rest, it’s the sex and nudity, because in some ways it feels like watching some lines on a questionably stained teenage wish-fulfillment list get crossed off, where you can imagine David watching TNG, seeing a character, and writing her down thinking, “Oop, she’s hot. Might wanna figure out a way to get her nekkid in a book someday.” That said, I did think that of the three lore chapters, Selar’s was the most unique, and the one I enjoyed the most, despite it being the shortest. So maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about. (Would be far from the first time.) Longtime readers know I’m harder on David than the general Trek fan consensus, and I’ve got my reasons for that, but based on this first taste, I’m looking forward to more.

MVP & LVP

• My MVP for this book is Picard, largely on the strength of how well I think he handles Calhoun, as opposed to other people, especially those whose names rhyme with “Smellico” and are sent into sputtering paroxysms by a reading of his bad-boy résumé. It’s funny how far we’ve come, where Picard was once such a stuffed shirt who did things by the book to a fault, and now with the clarity of experience and age is able to see how Calhoun is the right person to lead this unique mission.
• The LVP of this book is Jellico. There are impassioned defenses of the infamous four-shift–loving captain out there, but it doesn’t seem like David is such a fan. Jellico is embarrassingly out of the loop on major secrets for someone in his position, and almost every time he thinks he gotcha’d someone, it blows up in his face. As written by David, he’s the epitome of “you really thought you did something.”

Stray Bits

• “Picard felt, ever so slightly, a chill in the base of his spine. Morbidly, he wondered … if the Borg ever assimilated the Vulcans, would anyone be able to tell?” Yes! Yes, they would! Picard of all people should know better than to entertain such a thought. (p. 107)

Final Assessment

Good. At long last, the Deep Space Spines project reaches stories with some semblance of continuity. Of course, this is not a complete story, but all of the contents contained within the volume were enjoyable and have me wanting more. I’m looking forward to seeing where this series goes.

NEXT TIME: Into the Void once more, dear friends