“This is not your parents’ Star Trek.” That has been said before. It was a part of the official advertising campaign for Abrams Trek. A friend-of-a-friend once used it to describe Discovery. I do not usually respond positively to that formulation. I like my parents’ Star Trek, both literally, in that I still have a soft spot for the Original Series (though, admittedly, every time I have watched an episode since my 30th birthday, I have come away feeling… uncomfortable), and figuratively, in that I have taken “not your parents’ Star Trek” to mean “not a staid affair,” and I like it when Star Trek is a staid affair. I need a Starfleet captain to scold me every now and again. If I want laser guns and explosions, I will watch Star Wars. If I want a cosmic fungus providing the foundation for all space and time, I will watch Doctor Who. If I want a series of empty plot twists played exclusively for shock value, I will seriously reevaluate my life choices.
Star Trek: Picard is not your parents’ Star Trek in the sense that it has abandoned the central theme of Gene Roddenberry’s “wagon train to the stars.” This is not a hopeful depiction of a utopic future in which humans and aliens have come together to forge a more perfect union. This wagon train, like its historical counterpart, is carrying the vanguard of a decadent society that has decided to give slave labor a shot. On the frontier they have met a population of refugees representing all that remains of a lost power principally organized around a seemingly endless series of nested secret police forces. There is no hope here. Even our titular hero is resigned to the coming of an unnamed neurodegenerative disease (let’s be honest: it’s Irumodic Syndrome).
We start this week’s episode with a flashback to the burning of Mars. It is First Contact Day 2385 (so…. 14 years ago relative to the series). A group of construction workers at Utopia Planitia shipyards are lamenting the fact that they are the only ones not allowed to take the day off. Not quite. Their ample work force of synthetic life forms are also forced to work, when they’re not being forced to “sleep” in a cargo container between shifts, or serve as the butt-end jokes meant to illustrate the primacy of organic life forms. In other words, that thing that Guinan said would happen in the season two “Next Generation” episode “the Measure of a Man” — the mass-production of androids as slave labor for the Federation — actually did happen. Of course, Guinan projected this outcome if Data lost the court case to decide his rights. He actually won that case. Slavery came anyway. Fortunately, First Contact Day 2385 is the day that the synthetics have officially had enough. A synthetic named F-8 (that sound you hear is my best friend screaming at the screen that “ROBOTS CAN HAVE REAL NAMES, TOO!”), after watching his human overseers demonstrate their superior faculties by ordering the equivalent of a Tyson’s TV dinner from a machine that can make any food in recorded history, uses his workstation computer to deactivate Mars’ planetary shield just as a squadron of unmarked triangular starships arrives to begin bombarding the planet. There are also satellites with space lasers. F-8 takes, I’m going to call it a “plasma torch,” and murders his co-workers before blowing his own head off. Roll the title credits.
Back in 2399, Jean-Luc’s Romulan companions (whom I will call Irish Romulan and Her Husband until I can bother to learn their names; I guess I should confirm that they’re married; I get the impression that they are married), who are apparently and openly ex-Tal Shi’ar, are helping him try to puzzle out what happend to Dahj back at Starfleet Command (I should be more careful; she was killed at the Starfleet Archives; we’re going to visit Starfleet Command shortly). Irish Romulan tells Jean-Luc an interesting story about a Romulan police force worse than the Tal Shi’ar, the Jat Vazh (sp?), whose job it is to keep a Terrible Secret: Romulans hate artificial life forms and no one knows why. “Have you ever noticed,” she asks, “that our computers are limited to basic numerical functions? We do not research artificial intelligence.” She thinks that the Jat Vazh killed Dahj because… it’s not clear, but they hate artificial life forms.
Which is weird, because, in the third season “Next Generation” episode “the Defector,” Romulan Admiral Jarok looks Data straight in the eye and tells Data that he knows dozens of Romulan cyberneticists who would kill to be in the same room as Data. I love Star Trek. Really, I do. Its showrunners wouldn’t know continuity if it hit them with a Klingon pain stick. I guess Jean-Luc’s Romulan friends could be lying…?
Through ex-Tal Shi’ar jiggery-pokery, we are able to learn that Dahj was in contact with her twin sister Soji (I can’t tell you why, but I definitely walked out of the last episode under the impression that Dahj did not know she had a twin sister; she certainly didn’t *mention* one, which seems like an odd omission when trying to refute a kindly Starfleet Admiral’s assertion that you are an android) and that Soji is not on Earth. Recall that Soji is in the “Romulan Reclamation Center.” I now know what that is. Sort of. It is a Borg cube turned research facility run by the Free Romulan State where they are researching how to de-assimilate dormant Borg drones. A sign on the wall proudly proclaims that “This workplace has gone 5843 days without any assimilations.” Soji has started sleeping with that almost-but-not-quite-entirely-unattractive Romulan. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
Jean-Luc goes to Starfleet command to visit this series’ entrant in the “worst admiral ever” competition. I don’t think Cornwell has much to worry about. Don’t get me wrong: this admiral is terrible but there is no indication that she is a) sleeping with her subordinates or b) toying with the idea of casual genocide as a warfighting tactic. Jean-Luc wants his commission reinstated so that he can go to space and save Soji from the Jat Vazh. Unfortunately, Admiral Can’t’Act (this is the one way in which she might make the podium in the Bad Admiral Olympics) saw the part on space CNN where Jean-Luc shamed Starfleet for turning its back on androids and Romulans, and impolitely tells him to go… away (that’s not actually what she says). The conversation is pretty boilerplate for things that happen in a Starfleet Admiral’s office, except for the notable exchange where Admiral Can’t’Act informs Jean-Luc that, if Starfleet hadn’t pulled its support for the Romulan rescue operation (an apparent side-effect of the synthetic revolt on Mars; I guess Jean-Luc just saved the Romulans himself? With space pirates?), “14 species would have left the Federation.”
“Starfleet doesn’t get to decide which species live and die,” says Jean-Luc.
“Yes we do.”
So…. yeah.
At some point after this, Admiral Can’t’Act puts in a call to her good friend, Commodore Oh, a Vulcan who appears to be in charge of Starfleet Intelligence and/or Section 31, informing her that “the hermit of La Barre” (I actually love this) is afoot with conspiracy theories about Romulan covert ops taking place on Earth. Commodore Oh promises to look into it. “Looking into it” means chiding her subordinate, Lieutenant Rizzo, for making such a mess of the attempt to capture Dahj at the Archives and promising that she herself will “take care of Picard” if things get out of hand.
It gets weirder when Lieutnant Rizzo, apparently a human, holographically visits Romulan McDreamy-Ears at the reclamation center to tell him to speed up his “work” on Soji (“Have you managed to learn where its nest is?”). The cute Romulan remarks denigratingly on Lieutenant Rizzo’s surgically rounded ears and assures his older sister that he has the situation under control. It is left ambiguous whether or not Commodore Oh knows she is being played by… that Tal Shi’ar? The Jat Vazh? Am I spelling any of these words correctly?
In the final act of the episode, Jean-Luc specifically goes out of his way to crush all of our most fan service-saturated dreams by informing Irish Romulan’s Husband that he doesn’t want to ask Riker, Worf, or Geordi for help, because they might get themselves killed out of loyalty to him, and he “can’t go through that again,” not after Data (poor Jack Crusher). Instead, Jean-Luc goes to visit a trailer in a desert where I swear Captain Kirk once fought the Gorn and wherein now lives someone we’ve never met, who immediately pulls a phaser rifle and tells Jean-Luc to turn around and go home. As he’s leaving, Jean-Luc mutters under his breath about “Romulan covert assassins operating on Earth.”
“Is that the ’83?” his new old friend, Raffi, asks of the wine bottle casually dangling from Jean-Luc’s upraised hand.
Jean-Luc nods and walks back towards the trailer. Think Arnold and Carl Wethers’ first meeting in “Predator.”
This episode was mostly exposition and connective tissue. In our post-Abrams Trek, post-Discovery world, that is high praise. I will gladly accept any Star Trek that feels confident enough to go more than seven minutes between explosions without fear of its audience getting bored. We clearly have not gotten beyond the over racialization that Star Trek has leaned on so heavily over the past 50 years of its world building. All Ferengi are venture capitalists. All Klingons love “Fight Club.” All Cardassians are mid-level bureaucrats. All Romulans are spies. My eyes rolled more than a little when I first learned that there was something worse and more secretive than the Tal Shi’ar. Maybe that is the point, though. If I am allowed to be that guy who read a book once and is convinced that only that book matters: in “Origins of Totalitarianism,” Arendt posits that one of the methods by which Nazi social control functioned was by creating redundant bureaucracies with nominally overlapping responsibilities whose real responsibility was to spy on each other and prevent anyone from knowing where power actually lies. My first year college debate partner once posited to me that, in the same way that the Klingons are an allegory for the Soviets, the Romulans are an allegory for the Nazis (this sentence makes more sense in the context of the Original Series and its movie spin-offs than in literally any other Star Trek; there is very little about modern Klingons that is Soviet). If he was correct, then we should expect there to be at least a half-dozen more secret police forces on top of, beneath, and adjacent to the Tal Shi’ar and the Jat Vazh. Every Romulan is a spy, just on each other, rather than the Federation (though they all do seem to be spying on the Federation, too).
Abrams Trek (am I really about to say something positive about Abrams Trek?) gave Star Trek the opportunity to talk about what the 24th century looks like as things start falling part. Romulus and Remus were destroyed and the galaxy has been saddled with an enormous population of refugees who have never not lived in a totalitarian society. This is the limit of the ideal that we, and Jean-Luc Picard, thought that the Federation represented. Does the primacy of diplomacy, empathy, and attempted mutual understanding extend to space Nazis? Starfleet Command does not believe that it does. Jean-Luc Picard disagrees. What do the space Nazis think? It is not a good sign that their government appears very keen on dissecting a Borg cube.
Meanwhile, it appears that the Federation has also found ways to undermine the stories it tells about itself, without the need to refer to anyone else at all. I’ve already mentioned their dalliance with the idea of utilizing slave labor. I would like to dwell for a minute on the Tyson’s TV dinner that came out of that replicator minutes before F-8 freed Mars. It really did look that disgusting, and if you listen closely, you can hear the organic workforce complaining about “the amino acid matrix” use to supply the Utopia Planitia replicators. For the past 50 years, we have been presented the Federation as an exemplar of a post scarcity society, perfectly blending liberal values and Marxist concern with human welfare. There is no money. There is no need for money. No one has a job they don’t want. In the season 1 “Next Generation” finale, Captain Picard explains to an early 21st century American that Data accidentally brought out of hibernation that every citizen of the Federation is free to devote herself to “personal betterment” and the pursuit of passions. Mars is never more than 2.5 AU from the capital of the Federation. I don’t think I expected it to be fully terraformed. I did not expect it to be modeled after a 20th century industrial park, complete with lousy work-life balance and sub-standard food. Maybe this is a betrayal of Gene Roddenberry’s original vision of the future. Maybe that original vision has only ever been presented to us through the eyes of characters who have a vested interest in The Way Things Are. I hate to give credence to those who claim that DS9 is the best Star Trek, but Lieutenant Commander Eddington’s rant to Sisko about the arrogance of the Federation at the end of “For the Cause” is one of my favorite moments in all of Star Trek. “You’re worse than the Borg,” Eddingon says. “You assimilate people, and they don’t even know it.” After the assimiliation comes the exploitation. This is not our parents’ Star Trek. I’m starting to think that it is the Star Trek we deserve, though. Especially this week. The Federation is awful.
PS I have, to this point, completely ignored the question of whether or not the Irish Romulan and Her Husband are evil. The case is less strong that it was last week. If they were evil, I would expect the “Jat Vash” to be a cleverly constructed lie meant to distract Jean-Luc from whatever the Tal Shi’ar is up to, and I think I have managed to convince myself that it is reasonable for the Romulans to have at least two secret police forces. That being said, when Commodore Oh is dressing down Rizzo the Romulan, she goes out of her way to say “Admiral Can’t’Act just told me that Jean-Luc Picard paid her a visit and spoke the name of the Jat Vash openly, except that she didn’t say that last part, but I know it.” Commodore Oh does not divulge her sources, and, as far as I know, only Admiral Can’t’Act, the Irish Romulan, and Her Husband know that Jean-Luc is thinking about the Jat Vash. Granted, electronic surveillance is a thing. Irish Romulan and Her Husband turning out to be evil is probably a red line for me. Yes, every Romulan is a spy, but that can’t literally be true. *Every* human is not a plucky community builder. I am, at least, grateful that this is the only “shadowy figure” deception we are currently dealing with. Within ten minutes of introducing them, the writers showed us that Commodore Oh and Lieutenant Rizzo are not to be trusted (and did we ever really trust Romulan Commander Hot Pants?). Clearly, the showrunners learned something from the disaster that was Lieutenant Ash “Mom told me I don’t have to do the Klingon stuff” Tyler (See? I’ve clearly lost my touch). Here’s hoping that the “lie within a lie leading to a trap” doesn’t go too deep.
Star Trek: Picard is not your parents’ Star Trek in the sense that it has abandoned the central theme of Gene Roddenberry’s “wagon train to the stars.” This is not a hopeful depiction of a utopic future in which humans and aliens have come together to forge a more perfect union. This wagon train, like its historical counterpart, is carrying the vanguard of a decadent society that has decided to give slave labor a shot. On the frontier they have met a population of refugees representing all that remains of a lost power principally organized around a seemingly endless series of nested secret police forces. There is no hope here. Even our titular hero is resigned to the coming of an unnamed neurodegenerative disease (let’s be honest: it’s Irumodic Syndrome).
We start this week’s episode with a flashback to the burning of Mars. It is First Contact Day 2385 (so…. 14 years ago relative to the series). A group of construction workers at Utopia Planitia shipyards are lamenting the fact that they are the only ones not allowed to take the day off. Not quite. Their ample work force of synthetic life forms are also forced to work, when they’re not being forced to “sleep” in a cargo container between shifts, or serve as the butt-end jokes meant to illustrate the primacy of organic life forms. In other words, that thing that Guinan said would happen in the season two “Next Generation” episode “the Measure of a Man” — the mass-production of androids as slave labor for the Federation — actually did happen. Of course, Guinan projected this outcome if Data lost the court case to decide his rights. He actually won that case. Slavery came anyway. Fortunately, First Contact Day 2385 is the day that the synthetics have officially had enough. A synthetic named F-8 (that sound you hear is my best friend screaming at the screen that “ROBOTS CAN HAVE REAL NAMES, TOO!”), after watching his human overseers demonstrate their superior faculties by ordering the equivalent of a Tyson’s TV dinner from a machine that can make any food in recorded history, uses his workstation computer to deactivate Mars’ planetary shield just as a squadron of unmarked triangular starships arrives to begin bombarding the planet. There are also satellites with space lasers. F-8 takes, I’m going to call it a “plasma torch,” and murders his co-workers before blowing his own head off. Roll the title credits.
Back in 2399, Jean-Luc’s Romulan companions (whom I will call Irish Romulan and Her Husband until I can bother to learn their names; I guess I should confirm that they’re married; I get the impression that they are married), who are apparently and openly ex-Tal Shi’ar, are helping him try to puzzle out what happend to Dahj back at Starfleet Command (I should be more careful; she was killed at the Starfleet Archives; we’re going to visit Starfleet Command shortly). Irish Romulan tells Jean-Luc an interesting story about a Romulan police force worse than the Tal Shi’ar, the Jat Vazh (sp?), whose job it is to keep a Terrible Secret: Romulans hate artificial life forms and no one knows why. “Have you ever noticed,” she asks, “that our computers are limited to basic numerical functions? We do not research artificial intelligence.” She thinks that the Jat Vazh killed Dahj because… it’s not clear, but they hate artificial life forms.
Which is weird, because, in the third season “Next Generation” episode “the Defector,” Romulan Admiral Jarok looks Data straight in the eye and tells Data that he knows dozens of Romulan cyberneticists who would kill to be in the same room as Data. I love Star Trek. Really, I do. Its showrunners wouldn’t know continuity if it hit them with a Klingon pain stick. I guess Jean-Luc’s Romulan friends could be lying…?
Through ex-Tal Shi’ar jiggery-pokery, we are able to learn that Dahj was in contact with her twin sister Soji (I can’t tell you why, but I definitely walked out of the last episode under the impression that Dahj did not know she had a twin sister; she certainly didn’t *mention* one, which seems like an odd omission when trying to refute a kindly Starfleet Admiral’s assertion that you are an android) and that Soji is not on Earth. Recall that Soji is in the “Romulan Reclamation Center.” I now know what that is. Sort of. It is a Borg cube turned research facility run by the Free Romulan State where they are researching how to de-assimilate dormant Borg drones. A sign on the wall proudly proclaims that “This workplace has gone 5843 days without any assimilations.” Soji has started sleeping with that almost-but-not-quite-entirely-unattractive Romulan. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
Jean-Luc goes to Starfleet command to visit this series’ entrant in the “worst admiral ever” competition. I don’t think Cornwell has much to worry about. Don’t get me wrong: this admiral is terrible but there is no indication that she is a) sleeping with her subordinates or b) toying with the idea of casual genocide as a warfighting tactic. Jean-Luc wants his commission reinstated so that he can go to space and save Soji from the Jat Vazh. Unfortunately, Admiral Can’t’Act (this is the one way in which she might make the podium in the Bad Admiral Olympics) saw the part on space CNN where Jean-Luc shamed Starfleet for turning its back on androids and Romulans, and impolitely tells him to go… away (that’s not actually what she says). The conversation is pretty boilerplate for things that happen in a Starfleet Admiral’s office, except for the notable exchange where Admiral Can’t’Act informs Jean-Luc that, if Starfleet hadn’t pulled its support for the Romulan rescue operation (an apparent side-effect of the synthetic revolt on Mars; I guess Jean-Luc just saved the Romulans himself? With space pirates?), “14 species would have left the Federation.”
“Starfleet doesn’t get to decide which species live and die,” says Jean-Luc.
“Yes we do.”
So…. yeah.
At some point after this, Admiral Can’t’Act puts in a call to her good friend, Commodore Oh, a Vulcan who appears to be in charge of Starfleet Intelligence and/or Section 31, informing her that “the hermit of La Barre” (I actually love this) is afoot with conspiracy theories about Romulan covert ops taking place on Earth. Commodore Oh promises to look into it. “Looking into it” means chiding her subordinate, Lieutenant Rizzo, for making such a mess of the attempt to capture Dahj at the Archives and promising that she herself will “take care of Picard” if things get out of hand.
It gets weirder when Lieutnant Rizzo, apparently a human, holographically visits Romulan McDreamy-Ears at the reclamation center to tell him to speed up his “work” on Soji (“Have you managed to learn where its nest is?”). The cute Romulan remarks denigratingly on Lieutenant Rizzo’s surgically rounded ears and assures his older sister that he has the situation under control. It is left ambiguous whether or not Commodore Oh knows she is being played by… that Tal Shi’ar? The Jat Vazh? Am I spelling any of these words correctly?
In the final act of the episode, Jean-Luc specifically goes out of his way to crush all of our most fan service-saturated dreams by informing Irish Romulan’s Husband that he doesn’t want to ask Riker, Worf, or Geordi for help, because they might get themselves killed out of loyalty to him, and he “can’t go through that again,” not after Data (poor Jack Crusher). Instead, Jean-Luc goes to visit a trailer in a desert where I swear Captain Kirk once fought the Gorn and wherein now lives someone we’ve never met, who immediately pulls a phaser rifle and tells Jean-Luc to turn around and go home. As he’s leaving, Jean-Luc mutters under his breath about “Romulan covert assassins operating on Earth.”
“Is that the ’83?” his new old friend, Raffi, asks of the wine bottle casually dangling from Jean-Luc’s upraised hand.
Jean-Luc nods and walks back towards the trailer. Think Arnold and Carl Wethers’ first meeting in “Predator.”
This episode was mostly exposition and connective tissue. In our post-Abrams Trek, post-Discovery world, that is high praise. I will gladly accept any Star Trek that feels confident enough to go more than seven minutes between explosions without fear of its audience getting bored. We clearly have not gotten beyond the over racialization that Star Trek has leaned on so heavily over the past 50 years of its world building. All Ferengi are venture capitalists. All Klingons love “Fight Club.” All Cardassians are mid-level bureaucrats. All Romulans are spies. My eyes rolled more than a little when I first learned that there was something worse and more secretive than the Tal Shi’ar. Maybe that is the point, though. If I am allowed to be that guy who read a book once and is convinced that only that book matters: in “Origins of Totalitarianism,” Arendt posits that one of the methods by which Nazi social control functioned was by creating redundant bureaucracies with nominally overlapping responsibilities whose real responsibility was to spy on each other and prevent anyone from knowing where power actually lies. My first year college debate partner once posited to me that, in the same way that the Klingons are an allegory for the Soviets, the Romulans are an allegory for the Nazis (this sentence makes more sense in the context of the Original Series and its movie spin-offs than in literally any other Star Trek; there is very little about modern Klingons that is Soviet). If he was correct, then we should expect there to be at least a half-dozen more secret police forces on top of, beneath, and adjacent to the Tal Shi’ar and the Jat Vazh. Every Romulan is a spy, just on each other, rather than the Federation (though they all do seem to be spying on the Federation, too).
Abrams Trek (am I really about to say something positive about Abrams Trek?) gave Star Trek the opportunity to talk about what the 24th century looks like as things start falling part. Romulus and Remus were destroyed and the galaxy has been saddled with an enormous population of refugees who have never not lived in a totalitarian society. This is the limit of the ideal that we, and Jean-Luc Picard, thought that the Federation represented. Does the primacy of diplomacy, empathy, and attempted mutual understanding extend to space Nazis? Starfleet Command does not believe that it does. Jean-Luc Picard disagrees. What do the space Nazis think? It is not a good sign that their government appears very keen on dissecting a Borg cube.
Meanwhile, it appears that the Federation has also found ways to undermine the stories it tells about itself, without the need to refer to anyone else at all. I’ve already mentioned their dalliance with the idea of utilizing slave labor. I would like to dwell for a minute on the Tyson’s TV dinner that came out of that replicator minutes before F-8 freed Mars. It really did look that disgusting, and if you listen closely, you can hear the organic workforce complaining about “the amino acid matrix” use to supply the Utopia Planitia replicators. For the past 50 years, we have been presented the Federation as an exemplar of a post scarcity society, perfectly blending liberal values and Marxist concern with human welfare. There is no money. There is no need for money. No one has a job they don’t want. In the season 1 “Next Generation” finale, Captain Picard explains to an early 21st century American that Data accidentally brought out of hibernation that every citizen of the Federation is free to devote herself to “personal betterment” and the pursuit of passions. Mars is never more than 2.5 AU from the capital of the Federation. I don’t think I expected it to be fully terraformed. I did not expect it to be modeled after a 20th century industrial park, complete with lousy work-life balance and sub-standard food. Maybe this is a betrayal of Gene Roddenberry’s original vision of the future. Maybe that original vision has only ever been presented to us through the eyes of characters who have a vested interest in The Way Things Are. I hate to give credence to those who claim that DS9 is the best Star Trek, but Lieutenant Commander Eddington’s rant to Sisko about the arrogance of the Federation at the end of “For the Cause” is one of my favorite moments in all of Star Trek. “You’re worse than the Borg,” Eddingon says. “You assimilate people, and they don’t even know it.” After the assimiliation comes the exploitation. This is not our parents’ Star Trek. I’m starting to think that it is the Star Trek we deserve, though. Especially this week. The Federation is awful.
PS I have, to this point, completely ignored the question of whether or not the Irish Romulan and Her Husband are evil. The case is less strong that it was last week. If they were evil, I would expect the “Jat Vash” to be a cleverly constructed lie meant to distract Jean-Luc from whatever the Tal Shi’ar is up to, and I think I have managed to convince myself that it is reasonable for the Romulans to have at least two secret police forces. That being said, when Commodore Oh is dressing down Rizzo the Romulan, she goes out of her way to say “Admiral Can’t’Act just told me that Jean-Luc Picard paid her a visit and spoke the name of the Jat Vash openly, except that she didn’t say that last part, but I know it.” Commodore Oh does not divulge her sources, and, as far as I know, only Admiral Can’t’Act, the Irish Romulan, and Her Husband know that Jean-Luc is thinking about the Jat Vash. Granted, electronic surveillance is a thing. Irish Romulan and Her Husband turning out to be evil is probably a red line for me. Yes, every Romulan is a spy, but that can’t literally be true. *Every* human is not a plucky community builder. I am, at least, grateful that this is the only “shadowy figure” deception we are currently dealing with. Within ten minutes of introducing them, the writers showed us that Commodore Oh and Lieutenant Rizzo are not to be trusted (and did we ever really trust Romulan Commander Hot Pants?). Clearly, the showrunners learned something from the disaster that was Lieutenant Ash “Mom told me I don’t have to do the Klingon stuff” Tyler (See? I’ve clearly lost my touch). Here’s hoping that the “lie within a lie leading to a trap” doesn’t go too deep.
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