Poor Terry Matalas. It's clear from numerous post-season interviews that, for as elaborate as S3 became by the end (rebuilding the Enterprise-D! Bringing back Ro and Tuvok! Changelings and Borg and Lore!), his original vision was yet more elaborate. Apparently he originally planned to have Janeway and Kim also appear, and to show Ro still alive in the brig with Tuvok at the end of the season. The man clearly was dreaming big.

Given that, it seems slightly implausible that he would omit material purely out of carelessness. And the absence of Alexander seems like a pretty large omission -- especially in a season that was so focused on the parent-child relationship and the idea of "the next generation". Yes, there are all these memes about Worf forgetting Alexander, but that doesn't strike me as the kind of fan service Matalas was going for.

From a storytelling perspective, omitting Alexander seems pretty similar to why Odo was mentioned adoringly as "a man of honor" but not named: there was already a lot of backstory and reference being woven into the story, and throwing out a random name -- or a random concept like, "Oh yeah, Worf has an estranged son" -- would create too much to unpack.

Likewise, it seems like they wanted Worf to have a paternal presence with Raffi, so omitting Alexander simplified that story.

But still: in a season that was all about parents and their children, it seems significant that they couldn't find any way to reference him.

Unless...

Worf has a memorable scene with Raffi where he tells her, "Don't presume to know what I have sacrificed" (or something to that effect). Surprisingly, that line is never followed up on... explicitly.

But I suggest that that is where we learn of Alexander's fate: Worf has lost his son. Whether to death or desertion or deep undercover work, who can say? But we have an open question -- where is Alexander? -- and we have a vague statement that is never otherwise explained -- that Worf has sacrificed a great deal -- and given how much the rest of the season ties itself together, I suspect this was meant to be a subtle nod to explain away Alexander's absence.

Why not make it explicit? Why doesn't Worf tell anyone about Alexander? I argue it's because they wanted to save the "grieving parent" story for Riker + Troi, especially Riker. Explicitly portraying both Riker and Worf as grieving fathers would create an elephant in the room too big to ignore, and would've taken up much more space in the story.

So, instead, poor Alexander is consigned to a mysterious comment from his father -- perhaps fodder for some future tie-in novel, or perhaps someone we might meet in Star Trek: Legacy.

Are there other theories as to where Alexander might be, or why the writers did not mention him?

The history of Starfleet uniforms is long and varied, and reaches back earlier than the dawn of the Federation itself. But despite a wide-ranging colorful history, each era of Starfleet uniforms can be placed into one of two categories: lots of colors (one for each department), or few colors (departments grouped into divisions). The department-specific approach was used for about 80 years, from the mid 2270s (Star Trek: The Motion Picture) through the mid-century mark of the 24th century, giving each department (Command, Helm, Navigation, Engineering, Communications, Security, Services, Sciences, and Medical) a unique color.

For the rest of Starfleet history, a simplified structure has been employed, grouping various departments into what Memory Alpha and others have deemed “divisions,” with a single color per division. Despite many tweaks in the color assignments, the divisions themselves have remained remarkably consistent across 60 years of production history (and some three centuries of in-universe history.)

I propose that uniform color reflects fundamental differences in the basic approaches of each department.

Sciences

The departments in the “Sciences Division” focus on analysis of primary data sources.

The biologist works directly from her data, the doctor works directly from his patient's symptoms and readings. They are inherently skeptical and conservative in their approaches, methodical, with a preference for slower work that dives very deep. They synthesize conclusions based directly on their immediate findings.

Their work is generally fairly focused on a specific area– in theory, complications won't swing in from left field. Doctors have it more complicated– their approach does resemble those used in the command division, to some degree (see below). But the inherent skepticism, as well as the scientific rigor of their work and their historical connection to the sciences keep them within this division.

During the 2150’s, characters such as T’Pol, Sato, Cutler and Jessica Wolff all wore “Sciences Blue” at various points. From the 2230s through the 2250s, science officers on ships like the Shenzhou, Archimedes, and Discovery wore “Sciences Silver”, while their counterparts on Constitution-class vessels such as the Enterprise wore “Sciences Blue”. The Constitution variants were subsequently rolled out fleetwide, in a slightly different shade of blue. Roughly a century later, a variety of characters including physicians, psychologists and scientists all once again wear “Sciences Blue.”

The sole major exception to the color triad occurs during the first half of the 23rd century. Both on the USS Kelvin in 2233, and on the Shenzhou and on the Discovery during the 2250s, medical officers are shown wearing white. It is possible this practice was halted not longer after the Federation-Klingon War, perhaps specifically to avoid giving hostile intruders such obvious targets.

This division include general science officers, physicians, psychologists, astrobiologists, xenoanthropologists, and a range of other scientific disciplines.

Operations

The departments in the “Operations Division” focus on practical application.

They take scientific findings with which they are very familiar and put them to use; they problem-solve, with a low threshold for acceptable results: if it works (safely), then it's good. Engineers use physical scientific principles to problem-solve, while security and tactical officers use social science and strategy principles.

Creative, out-of-the-box solutions are encouraged, and being able to think on your feet and solve the problem in front of you is critical. Their work is also generally fairly localized, allowing them to focus very specifically on the problem at hand, before moving on to the next one.

During the 2150’s, characters such as Tucker and Reed wore “Operations Red”. From the 2230s through the 2250s, engineers on ships like the Shenzhou, Archimedes, and Discovery wore “Operations Copper”, while their counterparts on Constitution-class vessels such as the Enterprise wore “Operations Red”. The Constitution variants were subsequently rolled out fleetwide, with a transitional variant seen in 2265 which adopted the full-color tunic style, but maintained a beige coloring reminiscent of the previous copper (see note). Roughly a century later, engineers, security officers and tactical officers all wear “Operations Gold.”

This division includes engineers, technicians, operations managers, security personnel, communications officers, tactical officers (though see below), and sometimes certain administrative personnel including yeomen.

Command

The departments in the “Command Division” are required to engage in complex analyses and decision making.

They take information from multiple sources simultaneously and rapidly synthesize comprehensive conclusions, while potentially having to pivot their focus on short notice, temporarily leaving one problem unsolved, efficiently multitasking.

During the 2150’s, characters such as Archer and Mayweather wore “Command Gold”. In 2233, command personnel aboard the USS Kelvin wore “Command Blue” in a full-color tunic that resembled the Constitution variants shown some twenty years later. Also in the 2230s, then-Lieutenant Georgiou wears the “blue jumpsuit” variant, which uses a different color triad; given the precedent established in 2257 (and in the 2370s), it is likely that the Kelvin variants coexisted alongside the “blue jumpsuit” variants — perhaps the Kelvin was the Enterprise of its day.

From the 2230s through the 2250s, command personnel on ships like the Shenzhou, Archimedes, and Discovery wore “Command Gold” in the “blue jumpsuit” variant, while their counterparts on Constitution-class vessels such as the Enterprise wore “Command Gold” of various shades in the “full color tunic” variant. The Constitution variants were subsequently rolled out fleetwide, with a green wraparound variant seemingly only available to captains. Roughly a century later, starship captains and space station commanders, executive officers and flight control personnel all wear “Command Red.”

Aboard starships, the members of the Command Division are well-established: captains, first officers and flight control officers. However, as we peek further into Starfleet, we find other departments represented there as well.

[continued below]

Paths Not Taken

Deep Space Nine is replete with paths not taken, in terms of storylines. What if Jadzia really had died in “Change of Heart”? What if they had gone to Sigma Iotia II for the 30th anniversary episode instead of learning about the troubles with tribbles? What if Ro Laren, Sito Jaxa, or Thomas Riker had returned?

One path that was never really taken (and as far as I can tell, never seriously contemplated) is major political drama between the Starfleet and Bajoran crews on the station. Yes, Season 2 started with the extremely underrated Circle Trilogy, but that conflict was Far Away on Bajor (and inflamed by Cardassian influence). Beyond a few differences of opinion here and there, Kira and Sisko never seriously clash, which is a little odd, especially given how much grey area they were working in — a Bajoran-owned space station run by Starfleet officers? “We’re just here to administrate”? What does that even mean?

But there is one exception: “Dramatis Personae”.

Sorta.

The Valerian Situation May Have Been A Vaccine

See, “Dramatis Personae” shows this exact conflict of Starfleet vs Bajoran playing out… but under alien telepathic influence, dramatizing through lived experience the conflict that destroyed a civilization. It’s an interesting blend of real-world details being repurposed into the aliens’ script — the dynamics are the same, even though the particulars are different.

And so we do get a bit of a preview of what this conflict might look like — especially from Odo and Quark, who are unaffected. But, in all honesty, it does feel like a bit of a cheat, since it becomes clear at the end that no one was in control of themselves, whatsoever.

Now, I think this episode actually can be used to explain why we don’t see a real conflict break out on the station. After being released from the alien influence, Sisko and Kira (to say nothing of O’Brien, Jadzia, and Bashir) no doubt reviewed the logs, reports, and Odo’s account of what happened. They would have seen how quickly the situation unraveled. It would be a vivid reminder to them that they are holding this situation together purely by their goodwill and willingness to cooperate.

Rather than exacerbate existing tensions, the events of “Dramatis Personae” may have allowed the Starfleet and Bajoran crews to reap the benefits of the conflict without suffering the consequences. Thereafter, when minor conflicts would arise, they’d be seen in the light of the Valerian Situation, and addressed with that much more urgency to keep things from totally unraveling.

In this way, the Valerian Situation may have been a vaccine that inoculated the crew against destructive division going forward.

A Doylist Commentary

Though (in)famous among the Star Trek lore for its heavy serialization, DS9 should perhaps be equally (in)famous for its lack of planning around its serialization. There was no long-term arc, no long-term vision for the series. Except for a bit in the seventh season, there is no intentional foreshadowing — only post hoc foreshadowing that arises out of a choice to follow up on previous stories. The Dominion War was only planned to last six episodes — right up until it wasn’t. Julian Bashir’s genetic code was utterly normal — right up until it wasn’t. Jed Bartlet didn’t have a chronic illness, right up until Sorkin had the idea for Charlie and the President to be stuck in the residence watching daytime TV — oops, wrong franchise!

Likewise, in the late first season, the Prophets were probably not on the writers’ minds. Even on the (relatively rare) occasion that they decide to tell stories about the Bajorans during the first two seasons, the Prophets are very much a background fixture — a piece of cultural heritage, not active players in the drama. (Contrast that with later seasons when the Prophets begin to have an active influence — everything from “Accession” to “Prophet Motive” to “Sacrifice of Angels” and so on.)

But in hindsight, as I will lay out below, the events of “Dramatis Personae” could easily have been caused by the Prophets, rather than by some one-off alien species from the Gamma Quadrant.

Now, to be frank, I don’t think the writers had decided (at that point) what they wanted to do with the Prophets. It’s only in the context of the series overall that it might seem “in character” for the Prophets to do something like this. At the time, only 17 episodes in, the Prophets were still pretty uncharacterized, and what we had seen of them so far pointed more toward a hands-off approach.

But if they had decided earlier on that the Prophets were going to be active players in the drama of the series, this episode — with only a few minor modifications — could have been used to lay the groundwork for that.

Being so early in the series, they probably would have opted for something a bit more mysterious, a bit more Twilight Zone. Something like this:

An Alternate Story

The Klingon ship returns from the Gamma Quadrant, with everyone aboard comatose from personal combat injuries, save one, who beams to Ops before promptly collapsing into a coma himself. O’Brien detects that the ship is about to explode, but manages to beam out the warp core just in time for it to spectacularly explode, some distance away from the station. The episode continues on unaltered from there.

Then, instead of finding the energy spheres on a distant world that they identify as the former homeworld of the Saltah’na, the Klingons find the energy spheres on Idran, near the far mouth of the wormhole. They aren’t able to identify the civilization of origin, but Odo’s ear perk up when he hears them describe the spheres as being “hour-glass-shaped”. Cut to a scene of Odo standing in the Bajoran temple, contemplating an Orb. He shares this revelation with no one.

The rest of the episode continues unchanged, until the last scene. Kira has her heart-to-heart apology with Sisko, and Sisko teases her about letting the mutiny slide “this time”. She mentions that the Klingons have all recovered and are on their way home to recuperate, and then heads back out to Ops as Odo enters. He is very unneasy and explains that he has something he needs to share with Sisko, something very delicate and potentially inflammatory. Sisko gently tells him to go on.

ODO: “Sir, in reviewing the Klingons’ logs, I discovered an… alarming coincidence. As you know, the Klingons discovered the telepathic energy matrix on an abandoned planet on the other side of the wormhole.”
SISKO: “Yes, in the Idran system.”
ODO: “That is correct. What I did not put in my official report… is that the Klingon science officer described the devices they discovered as being ‘hour-glass-shaped.’”
camera on Sisko’s face as he reacts
ODO: “As you have experienced first hand, Bajoran orbs do have telepathic capabilities…”
SISKO: “And Idran is not much farther away from the wormhole than Bajor is. Which means, it’s possible that this entire affair was somehow caused by the aliens who live in the wormhole.”
ODO: “You can see why I said this was potentially inflammatory. The Orbs may be instruments of alien influence, used for nefarious purposes.”
SISKO: turns to look off into the distance, maybe out the window “I’m not so sure about that. Bajoran history is replete with personal accounts of Orb encounters that were revelatory, life-changing, and overwhelmingly for the better.” turns to look back at Odo, looking him in the eye “And my own experience with an Orb suggested nothing nefarious.”
ODO: still skeptical “But you don’t deny that the Orbs may be influencing people and events.”
SISKO: starts to speak, but pauses. He comes around to the other side of the desk, to stand next to Odo, and look out at Ops — at Kira specifically. “Maybe. But in this case, perhaps they helped us out.”
Odo looks out at Kira as well, and then they both look at the Starfleet and Bajoran crews working together — O’Brien with his Bajoran technicians, Kira planning duty rosters with Dax… every team in Ops integrated with Starfleeters and Bajorans alike.
Sisko and Odo share a look as we fade out.

If they had done this, it would have laid the groundwork for any number of other stories throughout the series. It would have heightened Sisko’s arc as a skeptic disbeliever turned Emissary. And, combined with “Duet” and “In The Hands Of The Prophets”, would have made for an informal “three-part season finale” that recapitulates the main ideas of the First Season, which I think would be pretty awesome.

[continued below]

In recent years, I have been surprised to find one part of DS9 that keeps on getting better with age: the Ferengi. As vehicle of social commentary, they go where Trek never went before.

Today, I want to focus on Ferengi society being used as an indictment of what we might call "patriarchal masculinity" (as in, expectations that a patriarchal society has about what masculinity is and how its men should embody it), specifically, by contrasting how Quark and Rom react to their father’s perceived shortcomings.

What do we know about Keldar?

Quark idolizes him as the traditional head of the household. He recalls Keldar’s exasperation and gloom with respect to his wife, Ishka — “Quark, I don’t know what I’m going to do about that female!” Quark acknowledges that Keldar was successful enough in business, but feels that he could have been much more so, if not for Ishka’s troublesome behavior. In short, he recognizes his father’s shortcomings, but blames his mother for them.

Rom, in contrast, sees their father in more mundane terms. Unlike Quark, who left home right away, Rom stayed for years and, as an adult, perceived Keldar’s lack of business acumen. “He couldn’t hold on to latinum if you sewed it into his pants!”

Ishka speaks lovingly of her deceased husband, but does little to hide her belief that he did not have the “lobes” for business. If memory serves, she once privately remarked to Quark that Rom had inherited his father’s lobes, referring to his poor business skills (though I may be recalling that incorrectly).

So, it appears that Keldar was lacking in terms of that which makes someone a “real Ferengi.”

Let’s consider his sons.

Rom follows in his father’s footsteps, trying to be a successful businessman, for many years, with apparently just as little success. It’s only after watching his son join Starfleet and forming the union (at O’Brien’s encouragement) that he changes, seeking his own path outside of Ferengi culture and its expectations.

Rom witnesses his father’s suffering and himself suffers for decades for not living up to Ferengi standards and eventually responds to that suffering by leaving the game altogether (until he comes back to reform it— a story for another time).

Quark, in contrast, witnesses his father’s suffering, and beyond being ashamed of it, does everything he can to avoid it— both by leaving home as quickly as possible, and by cultivating what we might call “hyperferengity” in himself— an unparalleled focus on being a “true Ferengi”, beyond the shadow of anyone’s doubt. He responds to his father’s suffering by doing everything he can to avoid the shortcomings that caused it.

Quark sees an unfair game and responds by obsessing over winning; Rom sees an unfair game and eventually leaves to play something more fair.

Rom’s suffering is obvious in the early seasons of Deep Space Nine. Mocked and despised by a brother who likely sees him as the embodiment of their father’s shame, his own natural talents and interests squelched by a system that has no use for them.

But I think the costs that Quark pays are more subtle. He is presented opportunities for growth— Pel, the union, the post-Zek New Economy— and he either agonizes over accepting them, or dismisses them out of hand. This culminates in his declaration of the bar as the “last outpost of what made Ferenginar great”— a steadfast and unrelenting commitment to an idealized version of the past, with a refusal to engage with the future. (Make Ferenginar great again, anyone?) I might not describe any of this as a “cost,” except that I believe that Quark is doing it all basically as a reaction to his father (or more specifically, his shame for having such a father). He is driven by his own pathos more than anything else. He is not his own man: he is driven by fear— fears that his brother could overcome, but not he.

Now, Ferengi business acumen is often coded as masculinity— “he has the lobes for business”, “you wouldn’t have the lobes to do something so gutsy!”, “he has the tiny lobes of a female!” (not direct quotes, but those are the sentiments). Here, I have coined the term "hyperferengity" in the same vein as "hypermasculinity."

So, take the informal psychoanalysis above, and replace all the references to business acumen with references to masculinity, and we find an allegory for how societal expectations of masculinity can end up hurting everyone— both those who “pass the test” and those who fail— and how the trauma of one generation gets passed down, in manners subtle and gross, on to the next.