This week, when the Enterprise checks out a warp signature a few light years off course, they find a people huddling in a galactic corner waiting for the end. But when it turns out they’ve arrived ahead of the expected company, Picard’s mediation skills will be stretched to their limits. Does a Star Trek novel need an “entr’acte”? Should Tamarian reference-speak be Starfleet SOP in dangerous situations? And are y’all ready to talk some poop-beaming theory? All this and more in The Last Stand, the book that dares to ungrow the beard.
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This week, when Neelix advises avoiding the bad neighborhood, Janeway makes a beeline for the bad neighborhood. But when she gets Voyager pulled into the middle of a centuries-old conflict, the Prime Directive and her dignity compete to see which one will come out less battered. What is that weird orb at the center of the battlefield? Is the Caretaker’s companion inside it? And does anyone besides Janeway think any of this is a good idea? All this and more in Ragnarok, the book that taught me what the cube-square law is!
This week, Shatner Claus delivers us a gift in the form of his first Trek novel. Right as Kirk feels the zest draining from his life, an alluring young woman comes along and brings his pocket rocket back up to maximum warp. But his friends are concerned that his dowsing rod might lead him into some murky waters. Who or what are the Children of Heaven? Is Kirk being used? And has Sulu become a company man? All this and more in The Ashes of Eden, the book where he says the thing!
This week, getting the Klingons and a race they waged war against for seventy years to get along turns out to be exactly as frustrating as it sounds. But the negotiations go from bad to worse when Riker and Deanna go missing, Geordi goes for-real blind, and the Fox News Kool-Aid impairs Data’s command judgment. Which officer does the most puff-piece interviews? Does the Federation provide adequate phaser training for civilians? And can you really work a combadge with a spoon? All this and more in Foreign Foes, or, Blame It on the Grain.