Nutshell: It's a promising beginning, but there's naturally room for improvement. Bajor and DS9 are extremely fascinating places with interesting grey-area situations. But the science fiction content so far has been less than compelling.

After much self-debate, I finally decided it was time to go back and review the first and second seasons of DS9. The final result of that decision for season one is below. These are not full-length reviews like the weekly ones I've been doing for the last few years. Quite frankly, I wasn't willing to commit myself to spending that much time. However, the capsule reviews below contain a few sentences of crucial synopsis in addition to my overall opinions on the most important aspects of each show. The capsules are similar in structure to my other season recap reviews, although they are a tad longer. Following the capsules is a brief comment on the season as a whole. With that said...

Part 1: Capsule Reviews

To see the rankings and 10-scale ratings for this season's episodes, click here.

Emissary -- Air date: 1/4/1993. Teleplay by Michael Piller. Story by Rick Berman & Michael Piller. Directed by David Carson.

And so the trek begins. The highly ambitious two-hour pilot for Deep Space Nine brings a discontented Commander Benjamin Sisko to a post of diplomacy where he must prepare a damaged Bajor for entry into the Federation. The drama of all the various characters' introductions is superbly handled, introducing many of their motives, beliefs, problems, and internal conflicts with skill and depth. The premise is interesting and large in canvas, promising to show the long-term consequences of a static setting facing sweeping change, as the Bajorans' rebuild their Cardassian-destroyed world. The differing agendas between Starfleet and Bajor open many possibilities for conflicts of interests between Sisko and Kira, demonstrated here by their fiery opening dialog. The technical credits are impressive, including a gripping opening sequence depicting the Borg attack on Wolf 359, and an impressive array of sets for the Cardassian space station. The second half of the pilot, which documents Sisko and Dax's discovery of the wormhole--and Sisko's communication with the wormhole inhabitants--grows a bit repetitive, but it remains both intriguing and cerebral, making vivid points about the nature of existence. Meanwhile, Kira shows respectable strength and leadership in fending off a group of threatening Cardassians at the station with limited resources. Bookended by scenes between Sisko and Picard, the drama goes full circle as Sisko finally comes to terms with his past and prepares for the future as a builder and also as the Emissary within Bajoran mythology. As the foundation for the series to follow, "Emissary" is excellent drama, promising more sophisticated themes than The Next Generation.

Rating:

Past Prologue -- Air date: 1/11/1993. Written by Kathryn Powers. Directed by Winrich Kolbe.

When Tahna (Jeffrey Nordling), a former member of a Bajoran terrorist group, seeks asylum from Sisko after a narrow escape from Cardassians who have labeled him a criminal, he begins carrying out a new plan that involves gaining the trust of his old acquaintance, Major Kira. The most interesting aspect of "Past Prologue" is that it introduces the many shades of grey that define some of the strongest aspects of the series. The heated arguments between Sisko and Kira highlight how much of an asset that conflict between regular characters can be on DS9. Meanwhile, the episode introduces "plain, simple Garak" with an amusing, unforgettable opening sequence between him and Doctor Bashir--and continues to develop Bashir's energetic kid-like naivete. Kira and Odo show an interesting understanding in a standout scene that reveals Kira's problem of being torn between her loyalties to the "old" Bajor and her loyalties to the ever-evolving provisional government that has made its alliance with the Federation. Plot angles involving Tahna, Garak, the Cardassians, and even the Duras sisters tie together with surprising plausibility, leading to an episode that goes a long way toward defining characters and relationships while being quite entertaining all the same. Only the lack of development in Tahna as a character holds this one back.

Rating:

A Man Alone -- Air date: 1/18/1993. Teleplay by Michael Piller. Story by Gerald Sanford & Michael Piller. Directed by Paul Lynch.

The murder of a man named Ibundan (Stephen James Carver) who Odo had sent to prison several years earlier leads a number of Bajoran citizens to suspect Odo himself killed the man. Led by Zayra (Edward Laurence Albert) and their own prejudices, the suspicious Bajorans take on a personal mission against Odo. A substantial step down from the pilot and "Past Prologue," there are some big problems with "A Man Alone." The "murder mystery" is a rather uninspired plot device to be using on only the second regular episode, and the investigation proceedings are not very adeptly written. The idea of Odo being a suspect is handled reasonably at first (particularly in an unsettling display of Odo attitude when Sisko temporarily relieves him of duty), but the ultimate result of the Bajorans forming a mob outside his office and screaming shapeshifter epithets is a misguided and excessive approach to highlight the issue. It's staged poorly and feels forced. You'd think that considering Odo has been on board the station four years the Bajorans would be used to the idea of his presence. The technobabble-heavy solution that reveals Ibundan cloned himself so he could kill the clone and frame Odo for the murder is far-fetched at best. As compensation for the murder plot, there are number of small, relevant character threads, including Keiko O'Brien feeling the burden of uselessness aboard a station she isn't happy living on, and her solution to create a school for the station. The Dax/Sisko/Bashir interaction is also somewhat refreshing. But the episode wanders too much.

Rating:

Babel -- Air date: 1/25/1993. Teleplay by Michael McGreevey and Naren Shankar. Story by Sally Caves and Ira Steven Behr. Directed by Paul Lynch.

A virus designed by the Bajorans 18 years earlier to infect the Cardassians is inadvertently released into DS9's food replicators and atmosphere, eventually infecting everybody on board the station. Once Bashir diagnoses it, the episode becomes a race against the clock to find a cure before the incubation period expires and the virus begins killing people. The "race against the clock" is not a particularly effective part of this story, because we all know DS9 is not about to become a floating morgue. The ending, where an antidote is all-too-easily and quickly created (and then administered between scenes with a cut to the exterior of the station) goes a long way toward destroying any remaining sense of danger. On the other hand, a lot of the character details within the plot work nicely. Kira's tracking down the Bajoran experts on the virus is plausibly handled and interesting (as is the way she kidnaps the man who may be able to find the cure). Odo and Quark continue to display their camaraderie-in-code. Sisko and Jake are believable as father and son, with scenes that resonate. And Colm Meaney's O'Brien is terrific in the opening acts, faced with a broken-down nightmare of a space station where nothing works right. But what's most interesting is the virus itself, which has an inspired, aphasic side effect that causes a breakdown in verbal communication, reducing everyone to babbling incoherence.

Rating:

Captive Pursuit -- Air date: 2/1/1993. Teleplay by Jill Sherman Donner and Michael Piller. Story by Jill Sherman Donner. Directed by Corey Allen.

When the first visitor from the Gamma Quadrant comes through the wormhole, O'Brien befriends the mysterious alien (Scott MacDonald), known only as Tosk. Some of the crew suspects Tosk's unclear motives, especially when Odo catches him trying to access the weapons locker. But when another ship comes looking for Tosk, it's revealed that he is the prey in a highly honored cultural hunt--much to the ire of Commander Sisko, but presented as an issue that's treated fairly by the script. While the episode has its origins in the action-adventure genre, much of what makes it a winner is the infectious friendship evident in the scenes between Tosk and O'Brien. MacDonald's portrayal of Tosk, while not the best in line delivery, exhibits body language that conveys his sense of wonder at the Alpha Quadrant. Colm Meaney turns in an amiable performance in his first vehicle on DS9. The alien hunters, unfortunately, aren't very compelling (and their costumes are quite hokey), but Tosk is a success because of the good makeup design and, more important, his appropriate interaction with his situation. O'Brien's decision to ignore Sisko and the Prime Directive in order to "change the rules" of the hunt and help Tosk escape is a noble act that rings true. Sisko's way of letting O'Brien help Tosk--and then calling O'Brien in for a chew-out as the job demands after the fact--is also quite gratifying. Overall, it's not an inspired concept, but it's nicely conveyed and characterized.

Rating:

Q-Less -- Air date: 2/8/1993. Teleplay by Robert Hewitt Wolfe. Story by Hannah Louise Shearer. Directed by Paul Lynch.

When a Runabout crew finds Q's former traveling companion Vash (Jennifer Hetrick) in the Gamma Quadrant, Q (John de Lancie) comes to the station in an attempt to convince her to rejoin him. In a related subplot, Vash and Quark plan an auction for rare Gamma Quadrant artifacts Vash has collected during her two years on the other side of the wormhole. In a less than interesting plot turn, one of the artifacts turns out to be an embryonic lifeform trying to return to the Gamma Quadrant, placing the station in some rather uninspired danger. There's very little meat here. Most of the story exists as an excuse to hang the Q dialog scenes on. The rest of it is mired in that evil stuff known as Trekkian technobabble, used to explain why the station is catapulting to its doom. It's unfortunate to use Q in a show featuring such banality, considering he's the embodiment of omnipotence. Then again, Q has usually been the source of comedy rather than insight in most cases ("Q Who?" notwithstanding), and the show's comic attempts are fairly successful. Quark and Vash make an engaging scheming pair, Bashir's inept attempts at womanizing are fittingly annoying, and Q's acerbic lines poking fun at the DS9 crew are amusing. At one point he actually says "Picard and his lackeys would've solved all this technobabble hours ago." The show features superficial fun and a good performance from de Lancie, but don't look for much depth in the plot.

Rating:

Dax -- Air date: 2/15/1993. Teleplay by D. C. Fontana and Peter Allan Fields. Story by Peter Allan Fields. Directed by David Carson.

Jadzia Dax is charged with the murder of a military hero from a non-Federation world that her symbiont's previous host Curzon allegedly committed 30 years ago. Now an extradition hearing may decide whether Jadzia can be held responsible for the actions of a previous life. "Dax" is a captivating drama that successfully accomplishes a great number of things. First is the Trill background, as the episode poses and answers numerous questions involving the intriguing implications of a joined species. Then there's the emotionally probing exploration of the relationship between Sisko and "Old Man" Dax--highlighting a bond shared between Curzon and Sisko that both characters hope will survive the change in the host. Curzon's colorful backstory ("not the model Trill citizen") is also of interest. Then there are the courtroom scenes, written with finely-tuned dialog and plausible arguments. Anne Haney as the 100-year-old no-nonsense extradition arbiter is a priceless gem. Odo's investigation proves almost as fascinating, as he locates the widow of the military hero and observes her problems and her concealed role in the matter. The plot unfolds on realistic terms that make plenty of character sense, highlighting personal regrets and sentiments. Every performance is praiseworthy, and the way the courtroom and character issues fit together with the intrigue-like plot is successful without ever colliding in discord. An exemplary effort overall.

Rating:

The Passenger -- Air date: 2/22/1993. Teleplay Morgan Gendel and Robert Hewitt Wolfe & Michael Piller. Story by Morgan Gendel. Directed by Paul Lynch.

In a fairly routine plot-based mystery, Bashir's attempts to resuscitate the critically injured criminal Vantika fail, and the man dies. Kajada (Caitlin Brown), the security officer escorting the convicted killer to prison, however, is convinced that Vantika's consciousness still exists and may be plotting to hijack a supply of diridium en route to the station. "The Passenger" provides a workable plot, with few unexpected twists, so the whole thing pretty much rides on the execution. In a word, this execution is "okay." Not much jumps out here, neither favorably nor unfavorably. The script's setup of the "possession" idea is reasonably done, though straining the bounds of typical, established plausibility. The show throws up a decent smokescreen as it hints that Vantika may have transferred his consciousness into Kajada's brain; but it really turns out to be Bashir, who walks around for the first four acts without knowing he's the villain. Once Vantika takes over Bashir, however, the story doesn't deliver the stellar last act it could've. Siddig El Fadil's performance as Vantika is a bit off-kilter, with bizarre line delivery (that is reported to have been over-dubbed in post-production). The technobabble-heavy solution to overpowering Vantika's personality is unconvincing and dramatically unsatisfying. But most interesting in the show (and in tune with the series' nature of interpersonal conflict) is Odo's friction with Starfleet security officer Primmin (James Lashly), which shows that change never comes easy. One of the best scenes is one between Odo and Sisko, that highlights the commander's calm ability to diffuse tough situations with diplomacy.

Rating:

Move Along Home -- Air date: 3/15/1993. Teleplay by Frederick Rappaport and Lisa Rich & Jeanne Carrigan-Fauci. Story by Michael Piller. Directed by David Carson.

Quark cheats the first visitors from the Gamma Quadrant in a game of Dabo, so the aliens decide to give Quark a lesson in fair play with a game that places Sisko, Kira, Dax, and Bashir in the middle of a surreal fantasy situation as the players. In order to see the DS9 officers to safety, Quark must play the game through--gambling with lives instead of money. There is one big problem with "Move Along Home," and it's that the premise is very, very far-fetched. It just doesn't make much sense. The technology--something that allows the senior officers to become players in a game that Quark and the aliens are able to manipulate on a playing board--is never explained (which might be a good thing considering the alternative of technobabble). And it seems awfully convenient that the four players in this game would happen to be the senior officers. The alien "game" sets are impressive, and Carson's overhead camera angles and surreal imagery earn full marks for atmospherics. Rene Auberjonois turns in another strong performance as an urgent Odo, and some scenes early on between Sisko and his son work well. But Quark's overwrought "groveling scene" falls flat, as does the constant repetition by alien game master Falow (Joel Brooks), who says "Choose their path" and "Move along home!" way too many times in the course of the episode. The motivation for placing the four main characters in such apparent peril strains credulity, assuming it exists at all. A very handsomely produced and often entertaining show, but it bears little scrutiny.

Rating:

The Nagus -- Air date: 3/20/1993. Teleplay by Ira Steven Behr. Story by David Livingston. Directed by David Livingston.

Grand Nagus Zek (Wallace Shawn), the leader of Ferengi commerce, holds a Ferengi meeting to plan business expansion of Ferengi culture into the Gamma Quadrant. But first he chooses a successor to fill his shoes when he retires: Quark. The first of what has since become a long-standing tradition of unfortunate annual Ferengi outings proves surprisingly entertaining. It's goofy and lightweight, and it knows that without shoving the fact down our throats. As a result, the episode finds the right tone of comedy and, consequently, finds some laughs. As an establishment of the greed that has typified the Ferengi on the series, this show works. One amusing scene features a roomful of cackling Ferengi sitting around a table. I don't believe we've seen so many Ferengi at once, and this time more is merrier. Once Quark is (temporarily) labeled the new Nagus, the show becomes a comic take on organized crime, as Quark slowly realizes that dodging assassination attempts comes with the territory. The idea of Rom conspiring to kill his own brother wryly utilizes Ferengi greed and treachery (though watching Quark grovel for the second episode in a row might've been pushing it). The show begins to lose its comic zip near the end, but Zek's unexpected reappearance is one of the show's highlights; particularly Wallace Shawn's hilarious delivery of the line, "You failed. Miserably!" Keeping in tone with the series' evaluation of the Federation's affairs with other cultures, there's a relevant B-story featuring Jake and Nog and each of their parents' concerns about the cross-cultural friendship. The heavy-on-optimism ending to this subplot is a bit schmaltzy, but also quite respectable.

Rating:

Vortex -- Air date: 4/19/1993. Written by Sam Rolfe. Directed by Winrich Kolbe.

In what is perhaps the best episode since the pilot, a wanted man from the Gamma Quadrant named Croden (Cliff DeYoung) kills a Miradorn in self defense following a botched theft attempt. Odo throws Croden in a cell and prepares to release him to the authorities of his home world. "Vortex" is the first episode to deeply examine the unknowns of Odo's mysterious origins, and the result is a powerful character episode that successfully gets into the crux of the constable's loneliness and his quest for people like him. Croden capitalizes on Odo's loneliness by telling him a number of "Changeling tales" that may or may not be part of his web of dissembling lies--hoping to take advantage of the constable's Achilles heel. Cliff DeYoung effectively forces our perception of the situation to remain in stagnant neutrality between Croden and Odo. DeYoung brings a sense of ineptitude to his character's criminal activities that makes his motives seem as sincere as they later turn out to be--but without totally winning our trust in the meantime. What also works, surprisingly enough, is an action subplot involving the dead Miradorn's vengeful twin brother Ah-Kel (Randy Oglesby) chasing after Croden and Odo's Runabout to kill his brother's murderer. Most of this works because of the extremely high quality of the production. The special effects are outstanding, as Odo and Croden attempt to elude Ah-Kel by traveling through a dangerous, volatile vortex that looks really neat. The conclusion, which uncovers all the reasons behind Croden's lies and deceit--his need to retrieve his hidden daughter from a planet in the vortex--is a touching sentiment. When all is said and done "Vortex" is an episode that works wonders on many levels. There are interesting suppositions about Odo's origin with engrossing character impacts, a good action plot, terrific production values, interesting performances, and affecting drama. Highly recommended.

Rating:

Battle Lines -- Air date: 4/26/1993. Teleplay by Richard Danus and Evan Carlos Somers. Story by Hilary Bader. Directed by Paul Lynch.

Sisko, Kira, and Bashir take Kai Opaka (Camille Saviola) through the wormhole for a brief excursion, but their Runabout is shot down by an automated satellite system when investigating a nearby planet. Opaka is killed in the crash in a surprising, tragic twist of fate. Meanwhile, the survivors find themselves in the middle of two warring factions of a penal colony. The twist: no one on this colony dies; their cells have been re-engineered to keep them fighting a futile battle with no possible victory for either side. Once you accept the implausibility of immortality in this sort of warfare (couldn't you sever your enemy's head to kill him?), this story's premise is intriguing. Ambitious production design stands out, as do some above-average fight scenes. The episode's relevant theme is the prisoners' error of continuing the pointless violence; neither faction can put aside their hate and think their situation through. When the same condition that gives the prisoners their immortality brings Opaka back from the dead, the episode wisely uses her character as a symbol of non-violence. The most interesting character aspect is the focus on Kira's violent past and how, with the Kai's help, she comes to realize this internal conflict and decides to begin the journey of leaving her violent impulses behind. Opaka's subsequent decision to remain among the prisoners with the hope of helping them end their conflict and beginning their healing uses the foreshadowed idea of "destiny" rather well. It shows a character who has a new mission ahead of her, and it also promises to bring about sweeping changes on Bajor as a result of the important figure's absence. Running alongside the Kira storyline, this makes a lot of sense. The final line of dialog hints that we may see a follow-up to the storyline, which I definitely would welcome (even if it turns out to be five years down the road).

Rating:

The Storyteller -- Air date: 5/3/1993. Teleplay by Kurt Michael Bensmiller and Ira Steven Behr. Story by Kurt Michael Bensmiller. Directed by David Livingston.

"The Storyteller" is one of those lightweight shows that shouldn't really work as well as it does, but it manages to get past the part of your brain looking for probing drama and simply leaves you with a silly grin on your face. The two plot lines are fairly mundane, in which (a) O'Brien and Bashir travel to a Bajoran village to aid a dying leader, only to get caught up in a Bajoran ritual; and (b) Sisko moderates a negotiation for two feuding Bajoran areas on the brink of a civil war, only to find out that the leader of one of the sides is a young girl named Varis (Gina Philips) who looks to be about 15 years old. The familiar A/B-story structure is nothing compelling, and the plot is hardly one of the season's more important. Yet this show works very well, because it's so well characterized, and it knows better than to take its plots too seriously. On one hand we have O'Brien and Bashir, who, paired for the first time, promise to be one of the series' most reliable comic combinations. Bashir is young, naive, and annoying, whereas O'Brien is an experienced, serious personality who isn't big on wasting time. Dropping O'Brien unwittingly and unwillingly into the middle of a Bajoran ritual situation is successfully milked for all the low-key comedy it's worth. Meaney plays the role straight--flabbergasted over being mistaken as the successor to the village's dying Sirah--which proves to be one of the show's best ideas. What doesn't quite work here is the idea of the Dal'Rok, a fantasy-like cloud of darkness that feeds off negative emotions to threaten the village--an idea rooted in Bajoran mysticism that really strains the boundaries of believability. Meanwhile, the B-story, involving Jake and Nog's adolescent mayhem and the way they come to know Varis, is surprisingly palatable and very entertaining. One amusing scene features the three of them breaking into Odo's office to steal his bucket--a humorously appropriate notion. There's not much depth in this episode, but the execution definitely makes it good for some genuine smiles.

Rating:

Progress -- Air date: 5/10/1993. Written by Peter Allan Fields. Directed by Les Landau.

In an return to the core of the series' outlook, Kira is ordered to see to the evacuation of an elderly Bajoran farmer named Mullibok (Brian Keith) from a Bajoran moon that is set to be used in a power extraction project in the coming months. The problem is Mullibok has no intentions of leaving; he's convinced that he is destined to die where he has lived his whole life. "Progress" is a wonderful sleeper episode that gets to the heart of larger issues using small-scaled human drama. Like "Past Prologue," this episode excels by placing Kira in the middle of tough problems with shades of grey. The interesting issue here is how the provisional government assigns Kira to a job she really doesn't feel she can carry out without betraying part of herself. Kira can identify with Mullibok's plight: a loner facing impossible odds--similar to the odds of the Bajorans freeing themselves from the Cardassian oppression. Keith's Mullibok is an engaging screen presence; he and Nana Visitor work well together. What really stands out here is a poignant scene between Sisko and Kira that simultaneously highlights the show's intriguing theme (that of Kira now being on "the other side" of an issue she sympathizes with) while also bringing the two characters closer together--with what may be a pivotal moment of understanding in their relationship. The lightweight B-story involving Jake and Nog's attempts to capitalize on a business opportunity is agreeable but hardly relevant--and coming off the heels of the Jake/Nog storyline in "Storyteller," this feels a little too pervasive. B-story aside, this show is a winner, indicating the direction DS9 seems to be heading in.

Rating:

If Wishes Were Horses -- Air date: 5/17/1993. Teleplay by Nell McCue Crawford & William L. Crawford and Michael Piller. Story by Nell McCue Crawford & William L. Crawford. Directed by Robert Legato.

In a rather silly "sci-fi" premise, the station is rocked by troubles arising from the station inhabitants' own imaginations. The mystery conjures three fantasy characters out of thin air, and supplies them with a few light comic moments before revealing them as alien creatures with unknown motives or intentions. The three fantasy characters: (1) Buck Bokai (Keone Young), a baseball player from the 21^st century who follows Jake home from a holosuite simulation; (2) Rumpelstiltskin (Michael John Anderson), who terrorizes Chief O'Brien; and (3) Julian's fantasy version of Dax, who drools all over the young doctor. This episode seemingly hopes to earn points for being weird (including a scene featuring a snow storm on the promenade), but the weirdness falls flat under the routine execution. No one seems genuinely concerned about the strange happenings on the station, not even when they escalate to the point of impending apocalypse in the form of a spatial anomaly which threatens to destroy DS9 and the entire Bajoran system along with it. Boy am I tired of spatial anomalies. The entire final act drowns in a staggering quantity of forgettable technobabble, and the boring jeopardy premise is solved far too quickly when Sisko realizes the threat can be eradicated if the crew can simply control its collective imagination. A few redeeming laughs and a final dialog scene between Sisko and the Bokai alien save some face. But it's still the weakest episode of DS9's freshman season.

Rating:

The Forsaken -- Air date: 5/22/1993. Teleplay by Don Carlos Dunaway and Michael Piller. Story by Jim Trombetta. Directed by Les Landau.

"The Forsaken," much like "The Storyteller" and "The Passenger," highlights how DS9 can deliver with character insight and development almost every time, even when the plotline fails to be remotely compelling. In this case, a computerized "entity" invades the computer system and causes problems throughout the station. Included in these problems is Odo and Lwaxana Troi being stuck in a turbolift--an unlikely character combination that provides a surprising amount of well-realized characterization. Lwaxana's lusting after the understandably frightened Odo is initially annoying, but it slowly mellows into reasonable dialog that's unexpectedly affecting. The episode opens the door to some of Odo's mysterious backstory, and shows the constable in a moment of weakened personal pride. Lwaxana's reaction to the situation is nicely handled. Also entertaining is the always-reliable Meaney as an O'Brien frustrated with a hopeless computer system, as well the notion of Sisko passing off the duty of entertaining visiting ambassadors to an unfortunate Doctor Bashir. What doesn't work here is the completely routine computer-induced mania and its predictable wrap-up, and the unnecessary imperilment of Bashir and the ambassadors in the lackluster finale. The characters work, but the story lacks originality.

Rating:

Dramatis Personae -- Air date: 5/31/1993. Written by Joe Menosky. Directed by Cliff Bole.

A Klingon ship returns from the Gamma Quadrant, virtually destroyed by an internal mutiny. When the DS9 crew beams aboard the only survivor, they also beam over a "telepathic matrix," which infects the senior staff and causes them to re-enact an alien power struggle. "Dramatis Personae" does not have an inspired premise--the power play has been done before, and using a convenient sci-fi explanation to warrant erratic behavior is hardly conducive for real drama. However, what works to a degree here are some of the subtle details surrounding the concept, which makes it interesting enough to be reasonably entertaining. The way Kira's mutiny grows out of the situation set up at the beginning of the episode--her disagreement with Sisko on allowing suspected Cardassian-aiding smugglers to dock at DS9--smoothly integrates the real plot into the contrived one. Also neat is how the different characters take on distinct personalities of circumstance once the mutiny begins to brew. The uncaring Sisko, the sultrily venomous Kira, the anecdote-spewing Dax, the strategizing O'Brien, and the "neutral" Bashir in the middle--all are characters who convey a weird persona that somehow adds a bizarre spin on the show's tone. Odo's cleverness works decently in the plot, as he plays both sides long enough to resolve the problem. Most of the show's best moments are subtle touches that aren't crucial to the story, but raise the overall level of interest. Sisko's inexplicable clock-building is one welcome bit of strangeness in this 100 percent Joe Menosky concept. Still, the inevitable feeling of pointlessness that ultimately comes out of the forced situation is all but unavoidable.

Rating:

Duet -- Air date: 6/14/1993. Teleplay by Peter Allan Fields. Story by Lisa Rich & Jeanne Carrigan-Fauci. Directed by James L. Conway.

"Duet" is quintessential DS9. It's an issue-oriented episode that is brilliantly characterized, with some absolutely riveting performances. The plot centers around a Cardassian named Marritza (Harris Yulin) who "happens" upon the station as a passenger on a passing ship. Kira promptly arrests him for being a war criminal and throws him in a cell. You see, he has a medical condition that he could only have acquired at a Bajoran labor camp named Gallitep. This labor camp was also the site of horrific Bajoran treatment at the hands of Cardassian atrocities. As far as Kira and the Bajorans are concerned, any Cardassian at Gallitep is guilty. But a mystery arises concerning the Cardassian's identity--with a number of clues that don't add up--and Kira begins a search for the truth. The resulting dialog between Kira and the Cardassian pulls no punches in either content or delivery. Evidence indicates that Marritza is really Gul Darheel, the man who actually ran Gallitep and made it his mission to terrorize "Bajoran scum." Suddenly Kira finds herself face to face with one of the most hated Cardassians Bajor has ever known. Nana Visitor delivers a powerhouse, emotional performance. Even better is Harris Yulin's turn as Darheel, whose absolute tour de force display of acting brings the raving, menacing, downright evil Cardassian frighteningly to life, with such lines as "What you call genocide, I call a day's work." Odo's subsequent investigation of the Cardassian's identity brings Dukat into the plot with a great deal of sensibility. It turns out that Darheel is really Marritza posing as the Cardassian criminal (who has been dead for years), trying to martyr himself so the Cardassian government will be forced to acknowledge its guilt for the Occupation--a moving display of self-sacrifice for the sake of progress on all ends. "Duet" is all substance, completely engrossing in its conveyance, and it also features a tragic ending. It's one of the best moments in the entire series' run.

Rating:

In the Hands of the Prophets -- Air date: 6/21/1993. Written by Robert Hewitt Wolfe. Directed by David Livingston.

And so the first season comes to a close, showing exactly the direction DS9 intends to take where the major issues are concerned: Bajor and its politics and philosophies. "In the Hands of the Prophets" explores what happens when Federation secular teachings and Bajoran religion collide. Bajoran Vedek Winn (Louise Fletcher) publicly denounces the classroom teachings of Keiko O'Brien's school. The result is a sudden rift between the Bajoran and Federation peoples, undermining everything Sisko hopes to accomplish. As with the best philosophy-oriented shows, this season-ender brings a great deal of probing substance to its plotting. Scenes like the one where Sisko fairly explains the meanings and intentions of Winn and her followers to his son are what really makes these events and attitudes believable. This is not simple by any stretch of the imagination, and by not reducing any of the characters to single dimensions, the script does a superb job of handling its premise. Sisko attempts to seek help from another Bajoran religious establishment, introducing the character of Vedek Bareil (Philip Anglim), who cannot immediately offer help. ("It seems the Prophets also teach you politics," Sisko remarks very correctly.) Meanwhile, a subplot involving the mysterious death of one of O'Brien's engineering staff opens up hints of a conspiracy, which ties in beautifully with the main story. The bombing of Keiko's school complicates matters, and is enough to convince Bareil to come to the station to offer his religious perspectives on the matter. There's a lot of plot here, and pretty much all of it works when it comes together, tying Winn in cahoots with O'Brien's Bajoran engineering assistant Neela (Robin Christopher) and revealing their intentions to assassinate Bareil--Winn's opposing candidate. The episode sports standout performances from everybody, but especially from Avery Brooks who plays Sisko with a commendable passion for his mission. The ending displays the understanding that the Bajorans and Federation have come to in the past six months, but it's easy to see there's much more to come in terms of political intrigue next season.

Rating:

Part 2: Brief Season Analysis

The first season of DS9 was surprisingly good. It definitely had its problems, but it also had some very strong episodes. Overall, there's a sense here that the series used its first season as a shakedown run--and used it very effectively. It introduced all the major characters and gave them all adequate screen time, fleshing them out reasonably well. It found its own tone--one of grey-area politics and philosophy analysis--that will separate it from its sibling series, The Next Generation. And it established a few significant plot threads that will definitely be around next season.

This season was solid, but not incredibly focused. It was a tad uneven--although that's to be expected from a series that just came into existence. I'm sure the cast and crew is just beginning to learn itself. Hands down, this season of DS9 is leaps and bounds ahead of where TNG was after its first season. But that was probably to be expected as well; after all, Berman and Piller have had the opportunity to learn from their other series before making this one.

Anyway, this season sort of exhibited a case of split personality. There seemed to be two types of episodes attempted. There was the philosophical/political theme emphasized in the Bajor-oriented shows--which highlighted the season at its best. Many of the most probing stories--"Duet," "In the Hands of the Prophets," "Progress," "Past Prologue," "Battle Lines"--had much to do with Bajoran situations and, more specifically, Major Kira. As the Bajoran who represents the communication between Bajor and the Federation, Kira has proven the most interesting and well-developed character. Under Nana Visitor's gutsy performances, the character has grown and shone this season. Other strong episodes like "Dax" and "Vortex" took some interesting looks at DS9's non-Bajoran characters. "Dax" was a fulfilling courtroom show that got deep into Dax's backstory; "Vortex" was an interesting look at DS9's resident shapeshifter Odo. The heart of "Emissary" was of course Sisko, who was put to brilliant use in the pilot and used well as the station's commander; still, I'd like to see more of what he thinks and feels, and hopes the series gives him a focused agenda in the future.

The other personality of DS9's freshman season was considerably less effective, although the show never really approached anything that was downright bad. This second personality was the "sci-fi" angle of the series, which proved relatively pedestrian overall. "Vortex" and "Captive Pursuit" were good examples of this side of DS9, but other sci-fi episodes didn't fare as well. "If Wishes Were Horses" was the most mediocre episode this season, with some pretty shoddy storytelling a lot of technobabble. The plots of "The Forsaken," "Babel," "The Passenger," "Move Along Home," and "A Man Alone" were also relatively nondescript. Strangely, all were sci-fi types of episodes, whereas the effective shows were mostly political intrigue or character development episodes.

Let me hasten to mention that DS9's shortcomings with the sci-fi angle of things really have nothing to do with the setting being stationary. I have no qualms whatsoever about the setting. It changes very little of what would be dramatically possible on TNG, plus it adds the benefit of forcing the series to present consequences and follow-ups to every action--especially politically.

Based on "In the Hands of the Prophets," the season finale, I would guess we're going to see a lot of episodes next season centering around Bajor and its political intrigue. And I look forward to it. However, I also look forward to improvements in some of the sci-fi plots and a lessening of the technobabble. Star Trek has always been known for its ability to tell wide ranges of stories. Deep Space Nine's setting has that ability more than ever. The series' first season has shown a lot of promise, and next season has every opportunity to follow up on it.

Next: Season 2