In today’s episode, Chancellor Gowron leads a conference to figure out how to give the galaxy a crash course in Klingons. But when the official talks start to melt like an unattended jumja stick, his stories at the lunch table might provide another path to victory. Can you even get a salad from a star system with no planets? How good an ace up your sleeve is the video game for Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? And what one thing will secure its place in blessed Trek memory? All this and more in Star Trek: Klingon, the book that can get you two of some things.
In today’s episode, a quiet cowboy with a loud gun helps Chief O’Brien pull off an important operation. But when the Dominion scores a huge W by disabling the minefield that’s defending the wormhole, Sisko goes in singing “I Need a Miracle”. Is it a good idea to mute the holodeck? Would Gul Dukat use the R-word? And how does a language just not change? All this and more in …Sacrifice of Angels, the much-anticipated finale to the show’s 24th season.
In today’s episode, a rare double replicator malfunction forces Picard to bend the knee to some dollar-store Ferengi knockoffs. Meanwhile, Riker sets aside his boner to help a starbase commander with a more important matter of the heart. Is there time for hugs in the middle of war? Is Ro Laren looking for a Canuck-buddy? And is it possible to want to spend more time in a part of a book you also wanted to spend less time in? All this and more in Tunnel Through the Stars, the book that makes Jack a dull boy.
Today’s episode is actually three episodes! The Federation manages to steal a Jem’Hadar ship in one episode, only for it to get shot down the next, and all the while, the surprise appearances of multiple teenagers make several people uncomfortable. When can you start to see the Diane Carey traces? If we believe hard enough in art, will it do something? And how can I minimize my Fandom exposure levels? All this and more in A Call to Arms, the book that’s here to kick ass and chew toothpicks.
Peter David, a writer beloved for his literary takes on dozens of popular franchise characters across a variety of media, died on May 24, 2025. He suffered a number of health issues in the final decade-plus of his life, including, in 2022 alone, multiple strokes, kidney failure, and a heart attack. He was 68 years old.
David was extremely prolific in the world of Star Trek novels, writing almost fifty between 1989 and 2011, nearly half of which belonged to the New Frontier series, his biggest and most ambitious footprint on the franchise, a sandbox all his own that successfully melded the cowboy sensibilities of the original series with the more strait-laced bureaucracy of the 90s shows and allowed him to indulge some of the more risqué and dangerous elements that were considered anathema by some of the less adventurous stewards of the TV arm of the franchise. Under the command of Mackenzie Calhoun, who was once the young leader of a revolution on his home world of Xenex and is still unpacking a lot of the trauma from those years, the Ambassador-class starship Excalibur holds it down in the Beta Quadrant while the Dominion War rages on elsewhere, its crew standing up to adversity with an ample supply of David’s trademark humor and humanity at every turn.
Some of David’s other Trek novels, like Q-in-Law, Imzadi, and I, Q (which I’m personally looking very forward to getting to as we approach the books of 1999), remain fan-favorite takes on their main characters to this day.
He was also a big name in comics, being lauded by fans for his similarly pensive takes on Aquaman and the Hulk in the 1990s.
David didn’t always hit the mark—his earlier Trek works were sometimes derailed by gratuitous puerility—but he always wrote with an inimitable style and could never be accused of merely taking the paycheck. He had a knack for naturalistic dialogue that many writers spend their whole lives reaching for and never get close to grasping. His own voice was a rare one in the world of Trek, one that strove to bring a different, more modern sense of humor to the franchise while still aspiring to its original ideals—and, more often than not, succeeded. He will be dearly missed.
