In today’s episode, when a colony world’s sun is about to go nova, Picard is stuck holding a plate at a buffet of Sophie’s choices. But if Data can walk as big a golf game as he talks, they might not have to make any of them. How many people have a personal connection to this planet? Is the solution somewhere out in the ocean? And hasn’t anyone ever told Picard that “Cs get degrees”? All this and more in A Fury Scorned, the book that skims a little off the top.
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This week, the Furies are back, and they’ve traded scaring the hell out of people for scaring it into them. But the Enterprise crew has to find a way in through the out door if they ever want to see snowy Idaho again. Can the Furies really be negotiated with? Are they truly as afraid of the Alpha Quadrant as the A.Q. is of them? And why aren’t they more baffled by Data? All this and more in The Soldiers of Fear, the book that reminds us why we don’t get attached to redshirts.
This week, ignoring the tachyon field emanating from a starship graveyard proves much easier said than done. But when a malevolent concierge assures Voyager that there’s no way to check out, it might be up to the weirdest loner on the ship to save them all. Is three-dimensional chess still in vogue in the 24th century? Is the computer monitoring the crew’s calls for quality assurance? And why is Star Trek so bad at handling characters who behave even slightly un-Starfleetly? All this and more in Cybersong, the book that takes the cookies to sickbay.
This week, the Enterprise can’t turn around: it’s in Lovecraft country. But when a ship emerges from a nebula that things more commonly go into, its crew claims the Starfleet of its time is in the pocket of Big Microchip—and one of Kirk’s crew is the CEO. So who’s the sellout? What are the real dangers to watch out for in space? And is “redshirt” actually a term used by Starfleet officers? All this and more in Crossroad, the book where Nemo is the last thing you want to find.
This week, we’re taking Probe from the top, once more, with feeling. The same peace conferences, the same song decoding, the same stories about alien whales, but now we march to the beat of a different drummer—a beat that adds a boatload of useless secondary characters and gives everyone dumber names. Is Sulu the worst spy of all time? Is there anything a single pill can’t cure in the future? And why won’t everyone just leave Scotty alone about his weight? All this and more in Music of the Spheres, the book where nothing matters but the music.