by Sierra Fox and Nicholas Perry
It was the Star Trek program that wasn’t Star Trek: The Next Generation. The space station centered tv show that wasn’t Babylon 5. (Now, it’s the show Ron Moore worked on before Battlestar Galactica.) Despite never quite getting out of the shadows, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine was one of the big three sci-fi shows of the ’90s (Babylon 5 and The X-Files filling out the trio.)
A spin-off of Star Trek: The Next Generation, DS9 represented a significant departure from the established formula. Where Next Gen had an episodic structure with almost all problems solved within the episode, DS9 was increasingly arc-based and focused on consequences. Where Next Gen‘s main cast was all but forbidden to argue with each other, DS9‘s was designed for interpersonal conflict. Plot threads (and characters) were carried over from Next Gen and refashioned into a new, complicated picture of the Star Trek universe.
The series starts shortly after the end of the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor (depicted as something of a cross between the Holocaust, European colonialism, and the Japanese occupation of China in World War II). When the provisional Bajoran government reluctantly turns to the Federation for protection against further attacks by the Cardassian Empire, the Federation agrees to send personnel to help staff and upgrade the abandoned Cardassian space station Empok Nor, newly christened Deep Space Nine. After a stable traversable wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant is unexpectedly discovered near Bajor, Deep Space Nine and its crew is placed at the center of a series of geopolitical conflicts that eventually threaten the entire Alpha Quadrant.
{Note from the writers: Nick watched Next Gen and started watching DS9 from its beginning. Sierra started watching with “The Way of the Warrior,” the opening two-parter of season 4, which functions as something of a second pilot. Either approach works, but it does affect our view of things. We’ll mention those effects as we go on.}
Led by Commander (later Captain) Benjamin Sisko (Avery Brooks) and his second in command, Bajoran liaison officer Major Kira Nerys (Nana Visitor), the main cast also includes Starfleet officers Lt. Jadzia Dax (Terry Farrell), Chief Miles O’Brien (Colm Meaney, reprising his Next Gen character), Dr. Julian Bashir (Alexander Siddig), the shapeshifting Constable Odo (Rene Auberjonois), Ferengi bartender Quark (Armin Shimerman), and Sisko’s teenage son, Jake (Cirroc Lofton). They are eventually joined by Lt. Cmdr. Worf (Michael Dorn, also reprising his Next Gen role) in season 4, and Counselor Ezri Dax (Nicole de Boer, replacing Terry Farrell) in season 7.
When DS9 excelled, it excelled because of its attention to character and the relationships between those characters. Just watch Kira, the ex-terrorist (the show never shied away from the word or what it meant), talking to a Cardassian about the Occupation. Any Cardassian. Any episode. Or look at the interplay between Sisko, Quark, and Odo in “The Emissary,” as newly arrived Commander Sisko blackmails the Ferengi businessman Quark into helping rebuild while Constable Odo looks on with clear amusement. In a single scene, the writers manage to establish Sisko’s guile and occasional ruthlessness, Quark and Odo’s quasi-antagonistic relationship, and Quark’s love for his family, all points that will be built on later.
Because of its stationary setting, DS9 was able to make extensive use of a large cast of recurring friends and foes. For instance, Andrew Robinson’s first appearance as exiled Cardassian tailor Garak is in the second episode, his last appearance is in the series finale, and he appears in every season. Not surprisingly, many of them were developed to the point where it can be hard to tell them apart from the main characters. (Good luck trying to guess if Garak or O’Brien is main cast in season 7 without looking at the credits.) Some of the best parts of the show feature the recurring cast. Garak in particular gets all the best lines (or should that be lies?), and subtle character work. Quark’s brother, Rom (Max Grodenchik), gets away with starting a union in a Ferengi-run business – and almost more impressively, with quoting Karl Marx on primetime US television. And of course, there’s General Martok (J.G. Hertzler), who perfectly counterbalances the usual representation of Klingons as eternal warriors with the frustrated observation, “War is much more fun when you’re winning!”
The villains are frankly exceptional: Marc Alaimo portrays the disturbingly charismatic Gul Dukat, a man who oversaw the Cardassian Occupation, sells out the Alpha Quadrant for power, and lies continuously to avoid admitting his own guilt. (“Waltz,” essentially a two-man show featuring Dukat and Sisko, is one of the best episodes of the show, precisely because of the seasons of character work behind it.) The always excellent Louise Fletcher plays the power-hungry religious leader of Bajor, Kai Winn, whose faith falters when faced with a choice between her beliefs and the actual will of her gods. Jeffrey Coombs as the smarmy, strangely naive face of the Dominion, Weyoun, offering a friendly smile over setbacks, poisoning attempts, and atrocities alike. (Coombs’ performance was so notable that after his character was killed, the writers immediately realized their mistake and created a series of clones, allowing him to play a series of variations on the character.) Even William Sadler as Sloan, an agent of a clandestine Federation spy agency (which we both tend to regard as an entirely ridiculous Villain Sue) was convincing as a man who believed he was a patriot making the necessary hard choices, even as he eroded the Federation’s core values.
There are a few missteps, of course. As science officer in a series that largely focused on politics and the personal, Jadzia doesn’t have enough to do, and ends up largely relegated to love interest by the end. O’Brien worked in Next Gen largely because he was different – a working class war vet with lingering prejudices. Here, he fades into the woodwork, and gets few chances to shine. Ezri suffers from overexposure and poor character writing at the worst possible moment. Given more time and a bit more thought, the character probably would have worked. And why bring Dukat back after the character received an excellent conclusion and send-off in “Waltz”?
{Writers’ Note: And here’s where the differences start to come in. Worf’s characterization in DS9 basically worked for Sierra, although he wasn’t a favorite character, while Nick felt like they were retreading ground covered better in Next Gen. The Odo/Kira romance also worked better for Sierra, who enjoyed “His Way,” while Nick was bored with the will they-won’t they by that point and wished the writers had moved on.}
The opening credits, with the camera sweeping across the exterior of the station as the majestic and hopeful theme plays, is updated as the series goes on, showing the degree to which the station has gone from a stripped down outpost to a thriving community and important port city through increased ship traffic and visible work crews. Inside, a lot of small details add up to give the setting the feel of a place where people live. People’s quarters are frequently messy with occasional dirty dishes left to pile up. Every once in awhile a character in Quark’s bar or the Replimat will find the condiment container on their table is empty and go grab one from a nearby table.
The deep, well developed characters provided a vehicle for exploring areas of the Star Trek universe that had been previously relegated to onenote “planet of hats” territory. It is because of DS9 that the Cardassians are more than “those guys who tortured Picard in Next Gen.” The show did this, not by ignoring the previous characterization, but by taking a closer look at the implications of the bare bones they’d already been given to work with, and using everything from set design to costuming to music to flesh out the world.
Through the Cardassians, we explore what a fascist society looks like from multiple angles, inside and out. The Cardassian station design conveys both alien menace and artistic flair. The station commander’s office is raised so that everyone will have to look up to him, as O’Brien notes in the pilot. The sleek dark shells of Cardassian uniform armor contrast with the thick woven fabrics of Cardassian civilian clothes (perfect for a race that gets cold easily).
Through the Ferengi, we get a glimpse of how you hold together a society where literally everyone is trying to claw their way to the top of the corporate ladder. Quark’s bar, the main watering hole of the station, is full of gaudy gold-tones and dramatic shadows (perfect for a secret deal). Garish embroidered tailcoats and a gold-handled walking stick for the leader suggest the profit and status focused Ferengi are a futuristic twist on nineteenth century robber barons.
The handmade look of Bajoran civilian wear is a subtle reminder that we’re looking at a people who’ve just come off a brutal occupation. The degree to which faith and religion play a part in the Bajoran people’s lives can be seen with some unexpectedly expressive clerical garb. The humble and well meaning Kai Opaka dresses in a distinctly nunnish habit (in blue and purple, colors associated with the Prophets), while the faithless and power hungry Kai Winn dresses in a gold embroidered robe and tall hat, calling to mind the less well-regarded popes.
Faith and religion become major themes of the series. Bajor shows us a people stripped of their resources, families, and traditions, who’ve clung to their faith as the only thing their oppressors cannot take away from them. The fact that the Prophets the Bajorans worship are confirmed to be a race of aliens living in the wormhole, so alien in mindset they need Sisko (as the Emissary of the Prophets) to explain the concept of linear time to them, does nothing to curb the reverence the Bajorans hold for them. Kira is a believer and never treated as wrongheaded or naive for that position. Meanwhile, the faith of the Ferengi (as interpreted by Quark) and the Dominion (as interpreted by Weyoun) offer slightly different interpretations of religion’s role in people’s lives, for good or ill.
It isn’t just the alien cultures that get explored. The utopian future that Earth and the Federation have been presented as throughout much of Star Trek is called into question, with outside observers judging the Federation. One of the major decisions Bajor needs to make is to decide whether to become a part of the Federation, and the Bajorans never lose sight of the fact that for all the benefits that come with membership, it would mean giving things up as well. No longer the straw men of Next Gen, the Ferengi perspective, as presented by Quark, shines a spotlight on humanity’s violent history and questions how little it might take for them to backslide if they weren’t living in their utopia. Ironically, the most flattering perspective ends up coming from the Dominion as expressed by Weyoun, who views Earth and the Federation as worthy opponents who will fight to the end and will require a near total genocide to stomp out their deeply held ideals.
The updates made to the Starfleet uniforms help sell the idea of a Starfleet moving towards a more practical way of operating after a period of complacency, and later, a more militaristic one. DS9 also gives us some of our first glimpses at life in the Federation outside of Starfleet. We meet Sisco’s elderly father, Joseph, who runs a Creole restaurant in the French Quarter of New Orleans on Earth. Jake runs the risk of disappointing his father by looking forward to a career outside Starfleet as a writer, eventually becoming a published journalist for the Federation News Service. There’s an attempt (not well executed) to introduce internal politics with a conservative faction that leads a protest on the pleasure planet Risa. DS9 also introduces the Federation anthem for the first time – it’s played at a baseball game (on the holosuite, naturally).
{Writers’ Note: As for the rest of the music . . . James Darren as 60’s lounge singer Vic Fontaine will basically work for you to the degree that 60’s era lounge music works for you. Sierra likes it, and was fine, Nick does not, and got sick of his character very quickly.}
When the series began, it continued the episodic format of Star Trek and Next Gen, although characters and plot points returned frequently. Gradually, longer arcs began to appear: a three-part story about Bajoran politics here, slowly dropped hints about an unseen threat in the Gamma Quadrant there. In a time when long running story arcs were uncertain territory for prime time television, the writers and producers found themselves at odds in terms of which direction the show would go. The Dominion War arc had a number of episodes written under a mandate to resolve the situation, tie up plot threads, and return to the status quo, with the writers constantly finding new ways to prolong the conflict. Although not a deliberate stylistic choice, the result is a sense of historical contingency – that the course of the war was not beholden to dramatic narrative convention, with seemingly important goals proving ultimately irrelevant, and small actions – conversations over lunch, or hiring someone without an formal education – sometimes proving incredibly important.
{Writers’ Note: Nick had a hard time reconciling the Dominion War with the rest of the shared Star Trek universe. A good line or two from Quark notwithstanding, the Siege of AR 559 was where the World War II movie tropes and the overemphasized “war is hell” messaging reached the point of parody, especially in a universe where orbital bombardment and weapons of mass destruction were established as the standard means of waging war. The Dominion War arc worked slightly better for Sierra, although the war itself rarely held her interest.}
While the final season of DS9 had plenty of flaws, one of the bright spots was the Cardassia Arc. Not only had the writers grown more comfortable with the use of long running arcs by this point, but this arc, featuring Garak, Odo, and Kira on Cardassia aiding a rebellion against the Dominion, got the chance to show off what DS9 was best at. The arc properly begins with a fantastic, wordless scene. The provisional leader of Cardassia, Damar (Casey Biggs), has just realized how little the Dominion think of him and his people. As he turns to drown his regret in alcohol, he catches sight of himself in a mirror. The camera stays focused on the mirror, as the glass of alcohol hits it. We then cut to Damar switching sides in a dramatic rescue. The rest of the arc features Kira lending her expertise in resistance movements to Cardassia, without shying away from the fact that she’d learned everything all fighting against the very people she was now trying to help. Back on Deep Space Nine, Dr. Bashir realizes how far the Federation is prepared to go to win, having become convinced complete genocide against the Dominion’s Founders is the only answer. Meanwhile, the audience is kept from losing all sympathy with Cardassia and the Dominion by Garak and Odo’s emotional and physical ties.
Like Next Gen before it, DS9 carried part of the legacy of the original series of Star Trek. Like Star Trek, DS9 predicted the future. Star Trek had put a black woman and later, a Russian, on the bridge. DS9 looked to the future and saw something darker . . . the politics of fear.
Airing before 9/11 or the “War on Terror,” DS9 drew on global and historical references for something that often feels startlingly prescient. In the aftermath of the Dominion’s relatively minor terrorist attack on Earth, the first successful attack on Earth in recent memory, the Federation grants Starfleet Security more powers, powers which rapidly became the center of a contentious public debate. Later, in response to the threat of infiltrators who could look like everyone else, the Federation and Klingons implement blood tests that never successfully identify a changeling as a form of security theater to make people feel better, rather than do the work to create a real method to solve the infiltration problem. The Klingon Empire decides to invade Cardassia, based on a specious connection to the Dominion threat, almost certainly in the hopes of bolstering the current Chancellor’s popularity with a quick, easy victory over an unpopular old opponent.
Unlike many shows that aired later, DS9 was able to explore the politics of fear from a remove that allowed for far more scepticism and caution. Terrorism and assassination are not solely the act of villains. Both sides participate in terrorism throughout the series, and joining a terror cell is portrayed as necessary and morally justified in multiple places. Kira refers to herself as a terrorist on multiple occasions, and even justifies killing civilians during the Occupation (“The Darkness and the Light”). Sisko, at one point, orders a chemical attack on a planet and participates in the assassination of a foreign representative and ensuing cover-up in order to gain a needed ally. On the other hand, an Admiral who calls for an end to civil liberties in the name of safety or the Klingon Chancellor calling for a preemptive attack are explicitly depicted as ultimately playing into the villain’s hands. And Sloan’s contention that genocide is necessary to defeat the Founders is proven false in the series finale, and nearly leads to disaster, only narrowly averted by Dr. Bashir and Odo.
The characters might live through difficult and traumatic events, but they also move on and continue living their lives. In the final reckoning, Deep Space 9 touched on dark subjects, without itself becoming dark. For that, if nothing else, it deserves recognition.
{Writers’ Note: If you haven’t seen the series, and want a taste, we’d recommend “The Emissary, Part I and II,” “Way of the Warrior, Part I and II,” and “Our Man Bashir” if you want a good look at the ensemble. “Duet” is probably the best of the “Kira talks to a Cardassian” episodes and “Civil Defense” was the best of the “station breaks down” episodes. “Treachery, Faith, and the Great River” showcases DS9’s handling of religion. We also liked “Improbable Cause/The Die is Cast,” and “By Inferno’s Light/In Purgatory’s Shadow,” a pair of connected two-parters.}
