Recommendation: Flint Town

Just a small recommendation for now as I’m working on other projects.

Today:  the new documentary series on Flint. Focusing mostly on the police’s interaction with the community. If I had to sum up the idea behind the series it would probably be empathy in the face of a really dark, disruptive chapter in American communal life that, as a foreigner, I really can’t understand, and probably still can’t. But this went a long way in showing me at least some of the issues.

Much like with the previous series Dirty Money the lack of a narrator and mostly letting the people speak does wonders for the entire endeavor. Highly recommended.




Infiltration at Camelot – A Pariah Company Sequel (Part 3)

When Catelin awoke, nightfall had already come. Her head pounded, her chest and arms ached. Or was it the other way around? It didn’t help that the moment she tried to get up she was jerked back by the two handkerchiefs tying her to one of the tentpoles. At least someone had put a couple of blankets underneath her. The ground beneath was icy cold. She shifted her eyes to those of a cat, immediately being rewarded with a clearer, brighter vision. The tent was empty, the front flap tied shut from within to maintain privacy. A general hexagonal shape with an opening for air at the top showed the clear night sky. The stars were off though, not those visible from Central Europe at any case.

“Almost like we’re in a different dimension,” she mused out loud, feeling her bruises. That had been thoroughly humiliating. She had fought sorceresses, warlords, demons, but never gotten her ass kicked by a random kid. Though at least she now knew that Ahmed was anything but normal. Her hunch had been right. Right but painful. She shimmied out of her restraints by distributing mass from her arms to the feet. She tried once to turn into a mouse or snake, but the had to maintain her natural mass. Her sister, the sorceress and altogether royal smart person of the group, had once babbled about ‘conservation of mass’ and ‘thermodynamics’. Nonsense words that were probably yiddish or something, Catelin had always figured, but the point stood nonetheless: once you turn yourself so small, the rest of you had to go somewhere. Alberic had carried her pieces around in a bucket for more than three weeks until Guinevere had gathered the energy for a reconstitution spell. Good times.

Once on her feet, she rubbed her worn hands, then took stock. There wasn’t much here. Ahmed wasn’t here either. There was a cut in the fabric of the tent though. Had he snuck out? In one corner she found something altogether strange: a bundle of fabric with straps and metal. She opened the flap and heard the two halves come apart with a rip. She moved it in the other direction, closing it back up. Curious. She opened it once more, finding Ahmed’s robes and beard.

Before she could dig any deeper, the cut in the tent opened and a figure stepped in, dressed in black. Catelin twirled around and, trying a different approach, crossed her arms and cleared her dry throat. “Hello, ‘Ahmed’.”

The figure that was Ahmed turned, bringing up a pistol of thoughts and – brightness! Broad daylight, concentrated into a beam, shone in Catelin’s face. She quickly turned her eyes back normal, raising her hands for good measure to block the agonizing beam. That hurt. “Slow and steady now,” said not-Ahmed. Not in the effeminate, cracking voice of a youth but the actual feminine voice of a woman. The beam of flight was averted and Catelin could now see the real person. Standing there, only a few feet away, was an athletic woman, looking 20 but saying 30 with her posture and eyes. She wore black and green, yes, but it was as strange has her rucksack. Shouldering a robe, she had the same metal strips and noise reattachable sticky fabric on it as the rucksack, while also wearing a vest with a good amount of pickets and strange devices poking out. She rolled her eyes. Not again.

“Time traveler?” Catelin sighed before she even knew the answer, lowering her arms. She sat on the ground, crossing her legs.

Not-Ahmed raised an eyebrow and for the first time Catelin could see him, her, for real: black hair, the same dark skin obviously, grey eyes. Attractive, but too muscular and thin for her customers. “You know about time travel?” She lowered her weapon, but did not holster the strange contraption. That made her smarter than most men who had Catelin on the defensive.

“You’d be surprised,” Catelin said, shrugging her shoulders, “ what we’ve seen before. What century?”

“About five-hundred years into the future. Plus or minus a decade. I think,” she answered. “The late 21st century.”

“The earliest yet,” Catelin mused, remembering the golem – what was the world again? Robot? – from a few years ago that had come to this dimension to become a real human. Why one wanted that when one could crush steel with one hand was anyone’s guess. Maybe the sex. “Let’s try this again: ‘Hello, I’m Catelin and not a backstabbing, manipulative bitch. And you are…’.”

She hesitated for a moment, then holstered her weapon. It retracted and shifted into itself till it was tiny and clicked to her belt without any straps. Magnetic? Marvelous, but Catelin tried to look aloof and not terrified as fuck. It always impressed this lot when the primitives didn’t care. “My name is Soraya. Soraya McTavish.”

Catelin wordlessly asked for her to join her on the ground, holding pallaver. “When did you get here, Soraya?”

The young woman shrugged. “A few months ago. I think. I was in Australia for a UN peacekeeping mission…” She trailed off.

“You’re a soldier?” Catelin had to pull herself together not to ask what ‘Australia’ was.

“Archeologist,” Soraya said, looking down at her gear, then remembering that Catelin didn’t know that word, “You know what a historian is? Basically that but I work for a living.”

“Are they also mercenaries?” Catelin chuckled at Soraya’s gear.

The girl smiled, returning the chuckle. She started to let her guard down. “Austria went down the drain during the Resource Wars. After FIrst Contact, well, point is I went down there with a group from my university to salvage some priceless artifacts before the Australian Evangelical Front blew them up. Long story short: I was caught in one of those dimension portals and ended up here in your dimension. Time. Took me the better part of a year to use my survival gear to get to Africa, from there I went to the Persians, then the Byzantines, then here.”

“Huh,” Catelin said, nodding, “and those Arabs chasing you? That costume?” Continue reading “Infiltration at Camelot – A Pariah Company Sequel (Part 3)”


Review: Mute (2018) – Flawed But Still Amazing

It’s been 9 years since Duncan Jones hit it out of the park with his debut film Moon. Since then his output has been… worrisome. But now he’s back with a force.

Duncan Jones manages to turn the grimy, ugly Berlin into something visually stunning and so believably futuristic that it serves as a terrific counterpoint to the dark story line. This is one where world-building is everything. Alexander Skarsgard, Paul Rudd, and Justin Theroux give a tour de force of performances.

The supporting cast is great too, the city of future Berlin very much included. At first you wonder if the film really needed to be near-future (cyberpunk) science fiction, and while the story could easily be told in a mundane present day setting, the themes of the story very much necessitate the futuristic elements. Much like its spiritual successor Moon, the film very much deals with isolation, compassion, and always acknowledges a baseline of humanity. I found it amazing how even the smallest of side characters gets a humanizing moment. It sells the depravity of the underworld even more, and creates a baseline of realism that often lacks in these types of films.  Continue reading “Review: Mute (2018) – Flawed But Still Amazing”


Infiltration at Camelot – A Pariah Company Sequel (Part 2)

Onto part 2 of Le Reject.

The camp at the foot of Camelot was much more permanent in design and intent than the one with the trolls and magical creatures they had passed on the way here. Catelin was leading the group through the dozens of followers, smiths, merchants, foot soldiers, a few actual hedge knights. That much was clear enough from what they had seen with the kid in Paderborn – Knight Johann or something? She had already forgotten. Apparently people were lining up to join Sigurd and his warrior princess bride. No wonder Voigt had thought it necessary to reactivate Pariah Company. Necessary and foolish, she thought, smiling.

Catelin looked behind her covertly, angry that she couldn’t just grow another pair of eyes. Achilleos and Ahmed were following her like nothing had changed. No, Ahmed eyed her suspiciously. He was going to be a problem sooner or later if she didn’t do anything about it just now. Nothing else mattered till then. Giving up Charles had bought her some time, with the Princess giving her word about the safety of her daughter extending it again, but she still needed to get out of here as soon as possible. And that, ironically, meant going in quickly, gaining Sigurd’s trust, and asking for her daughter back.

Sigurd’s lieutenant in charge of selecting the most worthy knights to join the – appropriately named – inner circle in the inner circle of the castle wasn’t hard to spot. Getting there had been more of an issue. Catelin hadn’t seen this much armor and steel in one place for a good hundred years. Not since muskets had proven as equally good weapons against knights and magical creatures, with the added benefit of allowing the meat shields that were the peasantry to carry the main burden of combat.

“It’s funny,” she said aloud, trying to make conversation, “when I first came to this world everyone was wearing chainmail to protect against swords. Full plate came around because of the musket, then went away because of its ineffectiveness against magicals. And now plate is back for some reason. Curious, curious…”

“If you say so, effendi,” Ahmed said. It was the same tone as usual, just off in the slightest intonational difference. “I am no expert in your lands and its history.”

“No, no you’re not,” Catelin replied, keeping her suspicion down. “But will you participate in the contest?”

Ahmed shrugged, but halfway through stopped, pausing. Catelin was seeing cracks in the performance. This ‘Arab’ was about as common as the rug he carried. But what way to catch him? Maybe… He pointed towards the sanded field a few meters away where the knights and soldiers competed. “Pray tell, what is Achilleos doing?”

Catelin turned quickly. Achilleos had moved past them while they had danced their dance, walking tall and wide towards this Sir Thomas. “Good sir, my friends and I wish to participate in your contest to join your Round Table.”

The knight looked him over, unimpressed like he saw two meter tall slabs of meat every day, even ones flanked by a fairy and an ‘Arab’. Catelin wondered if that might actually be the case, judging by the panopticon of magicals and knights running around. The knight, polished and clean shaved like the kid in Paderborn had been, yet a bit older and slightly less dumb, nodded and gazed at the sparing ground. “My name is Sir Thomas. Prince Sigurd has entrusted me with choosing the best warriors to join him. He is a gracious man, willing to show favor to the best and purest of heart. It is not just a contest of strength, but one of chivalry too. If you wish to participate you must be pure of heart.” He looked at them, smug satisfaction lining his lips from edge to edge. “Are you pure of heart?”

“Always,” Catelin said without a hint of irony, while trying to not laugh at the idea of ‘chivalry’. These fools hadn’t been around in the high times of ‘chivalry’. Honor in knights only applied to your enemies’ foul deeds while you did everything in your power to win. Rules are for losers. But she was able to play it straight, considering what she had only just done to Charles. She nodded to Ahmed. “Him first.”

The Arab glared at her, understanding her meaning. Catelin cared more about the knight’s reaction. The nobleman looked surprised, even through a face that could only be be charitably be described as ‘well bred’ if nothing else came to mind. He cleared his throat. “The contest is not to the death. Even if you cannot join the inner circle, Prince Sigurd still has need of you and your abilities. Nor will the first fight decide. I will decided by your performance once nightfall comes on the day My Liege returns,” Sir Thomas said. Catelin wasn’t sure why he was trying to speak so archaic like he had swallowed a copy of Chaucer. Then again, the last century or so were pretty much a linguistic nail in the coffin for ye olden days. The magic was to blame: too modern, too universal, influencing humanity subtle when when not throwing fireballs at their houses.

“Oh,” Catelin said with a smile, “I’m sure some will certainly get in. Maybe two,” she said cheekily, smiling at Ahmed. Getting rid of him might be easier than she thought without revealing her true motifs.

“In that case face your friend,” Sir Thomas said, instructing his master-at-arms to bring swords. Real ones too.

Catelin rolled her eyes. Served her right for not keeping her big mouth shut. She accepted the first longsword, weighing it in her hand, trying to find out if they were properly balanced. They were. Quality blacksmiths were at hand then. Ahmed also got a sword, but he carried it like a butcher might a knife. The kid was clearly out of his element, clumsy. Was she wrong about suspecting him of plotting against her? Was he just out of his element in a foreign land, did she just project her annoyance with Charles on the kid who had clearly taken a shine to him? Whatever it may be, now it was too late.

“The contest is over once the opponent yields or is incapacitated for five seconds,” Sir Thomas cried. “Begin!”

“Show me what you got,” Catelin said with a smile, gripping the sword properly and positioning her feet in an aggressive stand, ready to lunge. Just because she preferred a good gladius or pistol didn’t mean a sword was either foreign or less-than-lethal in her hands.  

Ahmed raised his sword, his feet moving slowly, deliberately. It betrayed the image of the naive youth he had oozed until then. The sword may be foreign to him, yet he knew the combat stances. It betrayed Catelin’s dulled senses, she had to admit. Too much time laying low, too much time running what amounted to a charity for desperate whores. The kid made eye contact. “Like you showed yourself when you betrayed Alberic?” He lunged, striking from above. Catelin parried, deflecting the blade easily enough, leaving Ahmed open for a killing blow. Her own blade went back to the defensive stance Frederick had taught her a good twenty – thirty? – years ago, protecting shoulder and chest perfectly while she could strike with the pummel. Ahmed recovered quickly, getting his blade up. Out of his depth he was, that much was certain, but clearly not a virgin.

“I didn’t betray him,” Catelin said truthfully, “that would imply it wasn’t the idea from the very beginning.” She struck quickly three times, pirouetting. Left shoulder, faint, center of mass. All of which Ahmed was able to parry. Barely. There were windows open everywhere that would have gotten him killed in a real battle or wounded in a training unit with Frederick. They paced around each other again. “I could offer you to join me, but I take it you imprinted on him already.” One more strike, quickly twirling around the blade to each the pummel and flinging it in a perfect arc in the air, embedding itself in the ground not far away, disarming Ahmed. “But why? I saw you first?” Continue reading “Infiltration at Camelot – A Pariah Company Sequel (Part 2)”


Tales from the Bin: Infiltration at Camelot – A Pariah Company Rejected Sequel (Part 1)

As promised, I’ll resolve the cliffhanger to Pariah Company Le Reject Version. This one is about 20-25 pages and I’ll post what would have been the conclusion.

If you enjoyed this, please check out my writing on Amazon with books like Historian’s Crusade and Disalienation. Pariah Company and the League of Mandarins, stories inspired heavily by the reject Pariah Company, will release during Q3 2018 and Q2019.

One Infiltration and A Betrayal –  A Pariah Company Story


The Multiverse ( Earth 7538) – The Year 1581 A.D.

The heavy iron door hinges squeaked as it swung open. It set the mood quite well. Two pairs of leather boots dragged him into the cell entrance. His feet barely touched the ground. Then they pushed him in. Stumbling, he landed on his face. His good side too, sadly. It was okay though. The cold, moist stone floor broke his fall. His eyes couldn’t adjust to the dimness immediately. There was darkness ahead, a bright sliver of light behind.

“Ouch,” he said slowly. Having seen the inside of many a dungeon it was a well-kept secret that your jailors expected something, anything, in terms of a reaction after this old ritual. Otherwise they’d hurt you some more. Taking pride in one’s work he could appreciate and so he obliged. Now they laughed sardonically and closed the door loudly. The locks went back into place.

A body stirred in a corner. It smelled like damp straw. “Anyone there?” It was a nice, female soprano. The most lovely voice on the face of the Earth in fact. Maybe he was biased though.

“Just an old warhorse with aching bones, thinning hair, and some other ailments,” Charles Alberic said, dusting himself off.

The voice giggled in the most delightfully girlish way that warmed the old mercenaries’ heart. “Hello to you too, father.”

Alberic finished putting himself back together. Now that his eyes were getting used to the darkness, it didn’t seem quite that bad. Yet a cell was a cell. His daughter had made herself comfortable on the straw though. She even had a blanket. Almost a luxury dungeon, he remarked to himself. He let himself fall back down next to her, gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She hugged him back. “What did I tell you again about keeping the wrong sort of company?”

“Protecting the Princess of Greater Brandenburg isn’t exactly keeping bad company, father,” Philippa Stahlhand replied, her tone similar to her mother’s in moments like this.

“You’re still imprisoned though.”

“As are you,” she countered, then paused. “Why are you here?”

He shrugged his shoulders. Body language was hard in pitch black dungeons. “Saving you.”

“Be honest now, dada. You never lied to me,” she paused, remembering that time her pet imp ‘Mr Impy’ died after she forgot to feed it the souls of damned mice and Alberic had told her he had gone back to the 6th circle of hell. Good times, he remembered.

“True,” Alberic said with a slight smile, “Alright. I was hired to retrieve the bratty Princess. But I only took it because you were here. If you wrote me sometime I’d have found out sooner.” He was not bitter that his only child didn’t write more than once a year in the age of the express pigeon. Not one bit at all. “That was when we still thought she was kidnapped, not working with the Dragonheart.”

“‘We’,” Philippa said curiously. She took the ‘throne in the dungeon’ experience extremely well, immediately picking up on a well-established routine, well too liberal for polite society, with her father. Then again at 28 years of age, the half-fairy had been there from the very beginning. Pariah Company’s little baby shapeshifter. Born during the rise, raised during the height, coming of age during the fall.

Alberic shrugged again, mostly though to get his shoulders uncorded from the harsh treatment of the guards. “Brought a couple of fresh recruits. Also your mother.”

“Aw,” she said mockingly. Clearly an influence of her mother’s lack of respect for man’s society. It was all the trickster fairy blood. Having been raised by social outcasts couldn’t have helped much though. “You stopped hating each other to rescue little old me?” She smiled, mockingly touched. “How is mother?”

“At this moment probably enjoying herself way too much,” Alberic stated disgruntled.


Continue reading “Tales from the Bin: Infiltration at Camelot – A Pariah Company Rejected Sequel (Part 1)”


Review: “Reader Player One” by Earnest Cline

It’s Not Me. It’s You.

Ready Player One… I didn’t like this one. At all. The plot?

In the year whatever, people live in not-World of Warcraft by way of the not-Matrix called the Oasis. It is a strange and dark time in which your pop cultural knowledge actually impacts the real world. So well follow this one couch potato play a video game not through a good plot or intriguing character development but pop culture references.

I was deeply disappointed by Ready Player One when I first read it over Christmas. It had been recommended to me several times over the years, be it by real people I happen to associate with, or our corporate overlords at Amazon. It had been pitched to me as the ultimate love letter to nerds and geekdom. Maybe that was once the case when the book came out in 2011. But now it’s 2018.

There are a lot of faults to this novel. The characters are unlikable, the main character especially being incredibly creepy and one-note. He is painfully designed to be exactly perfect for the world he is set in and clearly a stand-in for many a real-life nerd who wants to be validated that his encyclopedic knowledge of the original Battlestar Galactica, 8-bit video games, and general 80s and 90s cheese totally has an impact on the world as we know it.  Continue reading “Review: “Reader Player One” by Earnest Cline”


Star Trek Discovery Season 1 Retrospective

A Series of Essays by Daniel Young, Christopher Fewell, and Jessica Stone

Star Trek Discovery’s first season was a big surprise for all of us. To pass review, here are three pieces by friends/acquaintances/cellmates of mine.

Daniel Young: Serialization and You – A Guide

I am of the personal opinion that an entire season of Ash Tyler gambling across Qo’nos would be both the most entertaining thing to come across in the franchise and the type of levity the world needs right now.

For the non-trek follower, let us get a few things straight. You do not need a lifetime of nerd baggage to approach this. You can follow this, and appreciate the story happening. To the Trekkies, if you care more about fitting this into a perfect concept of canon than simply letting the story unfold you will probably find fault here. To everyone, if Michael Burnham grates on you as a character from the get go, this series is not going to give up on her, and you may do best to wait for the Tarantino film to jump back on to the franchise.

That tangent aside this season finale did exactly what was set out to do from a narrative perspective. It was a bookend that required our dear Michael to perform a mutiny one more time for the sake of federation principles over survival showing the full breadth of her arc. As an entire season it sells it was sold as the full Klingon Federation war before the cold war that would develop during TOS era and ultimately end in Undiscovered Country, but as a war season it kept the POV incredibly tight. Among the 15 episodes, 4 focused on the Mirror Universe Arc and 2 were bottle episodes that avoided the Klingon plot almost entirely. If I were any other type of nerd, I would complain about this 40% distraction from the main plot, but Discovery is much less about the threat of the Klingons but the path of redemption one must find. Discovery is at its best a character study, and for the fandom that can become grating for when some come to watch excuses to see prop departments drop a few thousand dollars on cgi-explosions each episode. Science fiction at its core is a window dressing for fiction, and Discovery used its time to focus on broken people. Instead of a just a series of one hurt person rediscovering their destiny in life like DS9, we have a minimum of four named characters all battling personal trauma from introduction to various points across the timeline with Ash Tyler being the one who never reaches a natural conclusion for how he deals with it, but in all due fairness his is a complex conglomeration of identity, trans-speciesism, racism, torture, abuse, and general the-world-hates-Voqism.

I would title Season 1 of Discovery “Self.” This is the core focus of the show as it explores self-discovery for every character that gets more than two lines per episode. Season 2 is the promise of a different type of Discovery, and they made that abundantly clear with how they chose to cliff hang this season.  And thus to Discovery, I challenge you: Go Boldly.

Christopher Fewell: The Adorkable Cadet

“Been my experience that what I lack in athletic ability, I more than make up for in intelligence, and personality. We may want to focus on those attributes.”

The standout element of Discovery for me was Cadet Sylvia Tilly by a country mile.

Played by Mary Wiseman, the redheaded Tilly immediately makes an impression on the viewer within mere moments, nervously but chirpily introducing herself to the sullen Michael Burnham, words falling out of her mouth very much at warp speed.

Her social awkwardness is well evident from the start, which if anything makes us love her even more. No matter what the scene or mood Tilly always makes me smile in some way. Most of her interactions are with her new roommate Burham, the two of them coming out of their shells and forming a very sisterly bond over the course of the season. Burnham takes Tilly under her wing, helping her train to hopefully get into the command program, while the cadet does her level best to keep up with the punishing training, and always fights Michael’s corner, never failing to show faith in her friend and giving her that little push whenever needed.

Working alongside Stamets on the revolutionary spore drive, Tilly’s skill at her job is very high indeed, having been fast-tracked through Starfleet Academy, and confidently rating herself as the best theoretical engineer there. She also has the most amusing honour of dropping the first onscreen F-bomb in Star Trek history when she says in regards to getting the spore drive working: “You guys this is so fucking cool!”

Despite her occasional shyness or lack of confidence, Tilly shows she can still party like the best of them, readily informing Burnham about her “Thing for soldiers” or  “Guys in bands”, and being the one who initially steers Michael toward a possible relationship with Lieutenant Ash Tyler.

There are no shortage of serious moments for the young cadet though, in particular when she is placed under pressure to keep the secret of Stamets deteriorating condition from spore drive operation unknown to the rest of the crew. Upon entry into the mirror universe, she has to put herself front and centre to impersonate her counterpart, known throughout the empire as the brutal and sadistic conqueror ‘Captain Killy’. Tilly is terrified at the nature of her other self, describing her as “A twisted version of everything I aspire to be”, and struggles to embrace the cruelty and confidence required to masquerade as her to the Terrans.

Alas we do not get to see the real Captain Tilly in the show, as she and the I.S.S. Discovery are destroyed offscreen in a battle with the Klingons shortly after entering the prime universe. Somewhat of a shame as it would have been most rewarding indeed to see the two very different women confront each other.

Despite never thinking she would see all the death the Federation/Klingon war brings, Tilly always manages to step up to the plate and perform her duty to the very best of her abilities, showing the the key to beating her fears is being afraid, but doing what she has to do anyway.

As the first season comes to a close and the war ends, Tilly receives a well-earned promotion to Ensign thanks to her many impressive accomplishments during her tenure aboard Discovery, bringing Stamets out of his coma being a particular highlight for me.

Bright, brilliant, perky, and always doing her best to look on the bright side in any situation (Yes I do proudly have a crush on her), Sylvia Tilly is the very definition of adorkable, and a wonderful addition to the Star Trek franchise.

So fucking cool indeed.


Jessica Stone: Wishes for the Future

I went into Discovery expecting to not like it. There had been so much news about behind the scenes drama, and I wasn’t thrilled that CBS shoved it behind a paywall. The opening two-parter, on of which aired on television and one of which most people saw under a free trial on CBS All-Access, was a fine episode but didn’t make me feel like the show was worth paying a separate subscription service for. Thankfully, when the season premiered, I was visiting my mom and didn’t have great Internet access so I didn’t start my trial until a week later and got to see “Context is for Kings,” and I decided to keep the subscription for a month. I’m so glad I did.

I really enjoyed the season, even though I can’t help but feel it failed to stick the landing and lost steam I the last three episodes. But as I was reminded this weekend at a gymnastics tournament, sticking the landing is the hardest part. I have some nerdy reservations about things like the difficulties lining things up with TOS – probably my biggest issue being the fact that Michael is Spock’s heretofore unmentioned foster sister. But this, despite all the whining about Gene’s Vision™ being violated, this is Star Trek through and through. We meet Michael after she makes the worst mistake of her life, and she spends the rest of the season trying to atone for it. The characters, save Lorca who turns out to be from the Mirror Universe, are principled, ingenuitive, and courageous. The mycelial network is a fascinating if improbable sci-fi concept, the Mirror Universe is finally put to good use, and the war with the Klingons is ended in the Trekkiest way possible. It had a wonderful exploration of redemption, the importance of holding to ideals, and, of course, what it means to be human. It also had fun references to other series, especially TOS – but I’m still mad that Lorca’s tribble never paid off.

Many people don’t like the characters and … to each their own but this kind of baffles me. Yes they’re flawed, but all good characters are. Stamets is a lovable curmudgeon, Michael is amazing and Tilly … I will actually fight you if you say anything bad about Tilly. She started out as a character I was really worried would be annoying, but she grew on me so quickly. And yes, the fact that they are diverse is a plus for me. Star Trek has always been diverse, I have no idea what the haters are whining about, and I think that’s good. A little black girl has as much right to see someone who looks like herself be a hero as a young white boy does, and I can’t imagine how much a positive, non-stereotypical autistic character must mean to the autistic community who usually just sees the same tired, harmful stereotype over and over. And Star Trek was wildly, wildly overdue for its first major gay characters. It’s not diversity for diversity’s sake as many claim – it’s characters who are diverse, but also great characters.

It’s not perfect, but this show has made me so happy. I made a routine of getting back from Choir practice, making hot chocolate, and sitting down to watch the show. It’s not lighthearted and doesn’t have simple morality, but that’s not what we need from every show. Sometimes we need more complexity, both emotionally and intellectually. Life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, and I don’t think it’s a bad thing if our media isn’t either, and I reject the notion that only perfectly light-hearted goofy works can be escapist. Sometimes we need something grim but ultimately optimistic, as this show is, to remind us that things can get better, that we can overcome the darkness.

I’m looking forward to next season. I wonder who their new captain is – Prime Lorca? Who knows. What did that spore that landed on Tilly mean? I don’t know, and without more evidence I don’t really want to speculate. Anthony Rapp indicates that we may see Culber again – Stamets isn’t going to give up on finding Culber again if there’s any chance at all. And that cliffhanger … I don’t know how they’re going to handle the classic characters, but I’m excited to find out, and hearing the TOS theme was such a nostalgia rush.

My big hope is not only that season 2 will be as good, but that we’ll get more Trek series. If they’re smart, the creators will make shows that have a wide variety of tones, content, and texture – but still up to this level of quality. It would be nice to have a more family friendly show running alongside Discovery – I definitely don’t mind DSC being for mature audiences, but it would be nice if there was also something contemporary to introduce Trek to a new generation. I am still holding out hope for a sequel series while most of the actors are still alive to reprise roles or cameo, though I’m not sure what they’ll do to make it accessible to newcomers given the large amount of continuity built up by DS9 and Voyager to a lesser extent. But I have sincere hope for that, for the first time in a while. Even if I never get a sequel series though, I’m happy to just enjoy the ride with DSC.