In part an
unlikely sequel to the 1990 TNG
episode “Suddenly Human”, Christopher L Bennett’s novella sees the Enterprise visit Talar, where Jono –
the young man raised by the Talarians following the death of his human parents –
has grown into a diplomat of some note, and is now assisting his adoptive
father, Endar, to negotiate an alliance with the Federation that it is hoped
will strengthen both in the face of mounting Typhon Pact antagonism. However,
through they mirror the traditional veiling customs of the Middle East more
closely than they do, say, calculatedly oppressive Ferengi practices, Talarian attitudes
towards females don’t sit well with Federation ideology. A group of militant freedom
fighters decide to take advantage of this, as well as the Federation’s famous
championing of freedom of expression, by using the Enterprise’s visit to mount an attack Talar’s patriarchy under the cover of a peaceful demonstration, kidnapping Dr
Crusher in the process and leaving her husband and captain in the conflicted
position of having to weigh the mother of his son’s life and the Federation’s
desperate need of an ally against not only his strong views on Starfleet’s
deep-rooted non-interference doctrine, but also his personal sympathy for the
women of Talar’s cause, if not their methods. Meanwhile, T’Ryssa Chen and
Jasminder Choudhury, the next generation of Next
Generation bridge officers, are recruited by Starfleet Intelligence to go
undercover on Kinshaya. There they are to pose as Romulan members of Spock’s Unification
movement who are visiting the world to show their support for the under-heel
Kinshayan masses, with a view to helping them to foment rebellion, and perhaps
even bring about a regime change that could tip the delicate balance of power within
the Pact in favour of those less aggressive towards the Federation.
The Enterprise half of the story is an
impressive and intricate tapestry of both welcome fan service and clever,
careful storytelling. Its “Suddenly Human” heritage is something of a red
herring for readers as, save for Jono’s unique pedigree playing a hand in the
conclusive events of the story, the events on Talar could easily have unfolded
on any non-aligned planet. The real meat of its drama turns upon how Picard
balances his duties as captain – essentially his duty to his conscience –
against his personal responsibilities as a husband and father. Ever the remote
bachelor on television, Captain Picard’s never had to struggle against his feelings
in the way that he does here, and he can’t even rely upon his first officer’s counsel
to help shape his decision as the otherwise-redoubtable Commander Worf has a solitary
black mark on his own service record, earned through his deliberate dereliction of
duty when trying to save his own wife’s life whilst posted to Deep Space Nine
during the Dominion War. It’s an enthralling read in every respect, and, like Paths of Disharmony before it, both bold
and surprising in its resolution.
Bennett also
uses the Talar storyline to finally take a more detailed look at the elusive
Tzenkethi, further fleshing out the basics of their form and examining the
history of their species as it is understood by other races. A species of
matchless ethereal beauty, the once-fragile Tzenkethi were long exploited as “novelties
and slaves”, eventually driving them to turn inwards, closing their borders and
even going so far as to edit their own genomes to instil an innate loathing of
offworlders – their newfound Typhon Pact friends included, towards whom they
feel little but paranoia and a fanatical need to control. Unfortunately the
nature of the Tzenkethi involvement in the plot and the brevity of the piece
conspire to keep them in the wings here, but it’s nonetheless a testament to
Bennett’s skill that he’s able to convey more through one well-written character
appearing in just a few fleeting chapters than had been done across the whole
media spectrum previously. The Kinshaya, conversely, are explored in immense
detail by the author, who seems to share T’Ryssa’s enthusiasm for the race. As
the Enterprise’s unconventional
contact officer so succinctly sums up, “They’re basically griffins… xenophobic,
isolationist religious fanatics, but still, griffins!”
“I know, I know. It’s like they teach us
in Prime Directive 101: A cultural change doesn’t really take hold unless it
comes from within.”
Jasminder
smiled. “Nor does a personal one.”
In his
acknowledgements, Bennett tellingly dedicates The Struggle Within to “the courageous resistance movement in
Egypt, whose members provided that nonviolent action can achieve what violence
cannot,” and these sentiments are keenly felt in the Kinshayan limb of his
narrative, which serves as inspiring counterbalance to the women of Talar’s violent deeds. But the mission to Kinshaya is as much a sabbatical for Jasminder
as it is an intelligence operation, as the once-serene Denevan looks to put the
destruction of her world and the comfort that she’s since found in aggression –
and, by extension, the arms of Worf – behind her. But shaving her head and
adorning it with Romulan mourning tattoos, á la Eric Bana’s Nero, isn’t nearly enough to
help her bury the past and find her centre again – for that, she needs the
company of the Enterprise-E’s
loveable and exuberant half-human, half-Vulcan Spock antithesis, who has to
suffer like she has never done before her commanding officer and friend can
find herself anew.
But the most
wonderful thing about this book isn’t its deft handling of action,
intrigue, or even character. It’s most outstanding quality is that it feels exactly like an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation – or, at
least, an episode of Star Trek: The Next
Generation’s Next Generation. The limited word count of the piece instils
the sort of pace that the television series used to deliver on a weekly basis,
even mirroring the two-thread narrative structure invariably found in most
stories. The only things that set The Struggle
Within apart from a bona fide TV episode
are its heavily-featured non-humanoid contingent (that even TNG’s budget probably wouldn’t have
convincingly stretched to realising on screen), and its heavy grounding in post-Nemesis
arcs, both of which I feel add to rather than detract from the piece in any
event. If you’ve a TNG itch that
needs scratching, but find that time or funds are in short supply, then you
could do a hell of a lot worse than throw a few pounds at The Struggle Within – without a doubt Star Trek: Typhon Pact’s finest hour.
The Struggle Within is currently available only as an e-book (£4.41 from Amazon’s KindleStore or £4.49 from iTunes).
