Here’s the thing, folks: it’s been ages since I’ve read a Star Trek novel worth giving a thumbs up.
Please don’t misunderstand my position on All Things Star Trek: like many across fandom who grew up watching the original Star Trek and Star Trek: The Next Generation amongst the other iterations, I long ago accepted the reality that Trek – as a commodity – had become a dying brand. While this doesn’t mean that its central ideas and cultural prospects were losing steam, it was pretty clear that all of Trek – from the comics to the novels to the JJ Abrams’ films to the Alex Kurtzman TV shows – had been hijacked by creators who didn’t quite have the franchise’s best interests at heart. Gone were the days when heroes boldly went where no one had gone before; and – in its place – we were given a cast of emo-driven wannabes who wouldn’t sit back and allow for their pronouns to be misused. While I shed a tear privately in coming to terms that I’d have to rely on reliving past films in order to be properly satiated, the character of Michael Burnham wouldn’t stop shedding tears at every opportunity despite being the – ahem – strongest and most competent character ever to command a starship.
Ugh. Good grief.
Again, for those who don’t understand my position: I don’t say any of this with any animus. I’ve always (ALWAYS) said that there comes a time in every franchise when there’s a passing of the torch to a new cadre of fans. That sadly is part of the human experience – as we grow up our minds also grow outward in search of other fascinations – so our needs and desires as do our tastes; and what amounts for Trek today is a far cry from what it was a decade ago, two decades ago, three decades ago, and etc. What Kurtzman and crew think entertainment’s responsibilities are just don’t jive with mine; so I’ve turned elsewhere, and that’s ok. While it may not exactly “be dead, Jim,” nuTrek is arguably dead to me; and I’ve made my peace with that.
However, I bring all of this up today because an internet fellow recently encouraged me to pick up a Trek novel and give it a spin, wishing to know my thoughts on it.
From what I’ve learned, Greg Cox’s “Lost To Eternity” was first published in July, 2024; and it’s certainly racked up a great deal of favor amongst readers on Amazon.com. At present, the novel has an impressive 4.5 (out of 5.0) stars with just over 250 different reviews. Having read a few of Cox’s earlier works, I can say that while I wasn’t exactly a fan of his prose he did have an excellent grasp on Trek’s major characters, meaning that I thought he wrote them very well despite what I’d describe as a general looseness to his concepts and narrative structure. But at the recommendation, I picked up a copy from the local Barnes & Noble (I had a gift card), and I wanted to offer up a few thoughts.
It's a bit difficult to summarize the premise of the novel in only a few words, mostly because the plot expands across three different timeframes which are conceptually linked by a central villain. To say too much more on that front would spoil some of the action, so I’m doing my best to tread lightly here, folks. Essentially, Cox has bookended his adventure in the era of the movies chronologically before the events of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country wherein Kirk remains in command of the Starship Enterprise with Spock, Uhura, Chekov, Scotty, McCoy, and Lieutenant Saavik rounding out his command crew. When a mysterious alien species known as the Osori seek to establish relations with the galaxy at large, the Federation – along with representatives of the Romulan and Klingon Empires – agree to a sit-down at Nimbus III (from Star Trek V: The Final Frontier) with hope of establishing diplomatic relations.
As typically happens with novels of this nature, something goes horribly wrong en route to the planned peace meeting; and it’s this catalyst that narratively propels Cox’s story into the past not once but twice … in surprising and actually very fulfilling ways.
Firstly, readers learn of a terrorist act along with what looks like a kidnapping happened during the time period of the Star Trek television series (roughly, I believe, in what would’ve been its third season). Starfleet orders Captain Kirk and company to both investigate and recover the kidnapped geneticist, Dr. Taya Hamparian (an Andorian/Human hybrid), from the clutches of a madman. With the crew of the Enterprise on the case, the audience can rest assured that the good doctor will be found … but whether or not she will turnout to be who she claims she is suddenly comes under suspicion.
Secondly, Cox sets another parallel storyline in 2024: hot on the heels of her first successful audio series, podcaster Melinda Silver begins looking into the mysterious mid-1980’s disappearance of Dr. Gillian Taylor (first brought to life so vividly in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home) who seemingly vanished without a trace after her humpback whales were released from the safe confines of the Cecatean Institute in San Francisco, California. Step by step, Silver contacts anyone who may’ve had any contact with the missing woman; and slowly her investigation evolves to touch upon a few of the related incidents from Golden Gate Park (where Taylor’s truck was found abandoned) and Mercy General Hospital (where she was seen with a few unidentified men).
It's always been my policy to avoid spoiling any major reveals, so I really don’t want to go into any greater detail about the events except to say that, yes, there are a few solid hooks that Cox uses to structure the bulk of the action. While (frankly) the Trek movie era bits remain almost exclusively the prospect of the novel’s set-up and conclusion, an argument could be made that – with some clever editing and rewriting – they could be eliminated entirely, though I’m not suggesting that would make for a better overall story. The point is that, yes, there’s a bit of excess in only that framework, chiefly because even after reading the tale I’m not entirely convinced the Osori’s initial motivation about disclosing themselves to the Federation and others really had much predicate. They’re here – and they are tied into the villain’s premise – but their motivation to come clean with the universe should’ve been more greatly justified.
Otherwise, I’d suggest that this is, by far, one of the better works by Cox I’ve had the good fortune to read. The stuff set in 2024 – while being a bit over-the-top and still a bit simplistic in a few spots – is handled very well; and Silver doesn’t emerge so much as a compelling individual voice as she does a character who inadvertently finds herself swept up in the intrigue. She does occasionally get written as a bit of a girl-boss – sorry, not a fan of such trappings – but it never grows to the point of becoming irritating, nor does anything she does ever hijack the narrative on behalf of some contemporary politicking (that ruins far too many acceptable yarns). While Cox’s dialogue for the various Trek characters is convincing, he still throws in the ill-timed barb that might have long-time fans asking, “Would Kirk really say that?” (Or McCoy. Or Spock.) Thankfully, a good deal of those asides are forgettable; and the momentum keeps moving forward each era’s respective mysteries in entertaining fashion.
I’d certainly stop short of christening Lost To Eternity as a great Star Trek novel.
It’s very, very, very good – maybe even great in a few spots – and that’s good enough.
What’s most admirable about Cox’s work here is that each timeframe he clearly punctuates with ideas and images and dialogue that feels authentic. Some of the franchise’s authors stray a bit into what I’ll dub ‘highbrow material’ hoping to bestow perhaps stronger literary credibility on the books; and – sorry, folks – that just doesn’t interest me. If you want to compete with mainstream Science Fiction authors in that arena of ideas, then more power to you: go and do it. Stop trying to take Star Trek and turn it into, say, hard Science Fiction because that just doesn’t work so well. Unlike so many others, Cox knows his audiences, and he writes both to and for them: that alone deserves an affectionate nod.
Much in the way that some of us old time Trekkers are willing to accept some moments of pure cringe in order to enjoy Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, even the weak passages of Eternity work well enough to be embraced. It’s definitely one of the better ones I’ve read in quite some time, and that bodes well enough to have me looking into other reasonably recent releases in order to keep the classic Trek heart beating for fans who prefer the original.
Recommended.
-- EZ
Please don’t misunderstand my position on All Things Star Trek: like many across fandom who grew up watching the original Star Trek and Star Trek: The Next Generation amongst the other iterations, I long ago accepted the reality that Trek – as a commodity – had become a dying brand. While this doesn’t mean that its central ideas and cultural prospects were losing steam, it was pretty clear that all of Trek – from the comics to the novels to the JJ Abrams’ films to the Alex Kurtzman TV shows – had been hijacked by creators who didn’t quite have the franchise’s best interests at heart. Gone were the days when heroes boldly went where no one had gone before; and – in its place – we were given a cast of emo-driven wannabes who wouldn’t sit back and allow for their pronouns to be misused. While I shed a tear privately in coming to terms that I’d have to rely on reliving past films in order to be properly satiated, the character of Michael Burnham wouldn’t stop shedding tears at every opportunity despite being the – ahem – strongest and most competent character ever to command a starship.
Ugh. Good grief.
Again, for those who don’t understand my position: I don’t say any of this with any animus. I’ve always (ALWAYS) said that there comes a time in every franchise when there’s a passing of the torch to a new cadre of fans. That sadly is part of the human experience – as we grow up our minds also grow outward in search of other fascinations – so our needs and desires as do our tastes; and what amounts for Trek today is a far cry from what it was a decade ago, two decades ago, three decades ago, and etc. What Kurtzman and crew think entertainment’s responsibilities are just don’t jive with mine; so I’ve turned elsewhere, and that’s ok. While it may not exactly “be dead, Jim,” nuTrek is arguably dead to me; and I’ve made my peace with that.
However, I bring all of this up today because an internet fellow recently encouraged me to pick up a Trek novel and give it a spin, wishing to know my thoughts on it.
From what I’ve learned, Greg Cox’s “Lost To Eternity” was first published in July, 2024; and it’s certainly racked up a great deal of favor amongst readers on Amazon.com. At present, the novel has an impressive 4.5 (out of 5.0) stars with just over 250 different reviews. Having read a few of Cox’s earlier works, I can say that while I wasn’t exactly a fan of his prose he did have an excellent grasp on Trek’s major characters, meaning that I thought he wrote them very well despite what I’d describe as a general looseness to his concepts and narrative structure. But at the recommendation, I picked up a copy from the local Barnes & Noble (I had a gift card), and I wanted to offer up a few thoughts.
It's a bit difficult to summarize the premise of the novel in only a few words, mostly because the plot expands across three different timeframes which are conceptually linked by a central villain. To say too much more on that front would spoil some of the action, so I’m doing my best to tread lightly here, folks. Essentially, Cox has bookended his adventure in the era of the movies chronologically before the events of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country wherein Kirk remains in command of the Starship Enterprise with Spock, Uhura, Chekov, Scotty, McCoy, and Lieutenant Saavik rounding out his command crew. When a mysterious alien species known as the Osori seek to establish relations with the galaxy at large, the Federation – along with representatives of the Romulan and Klingon Empires – agree to a sit-down at Nimbus III (from Star Trek V: The Final Frontier) with hope of establishing diplomatic relations.
As typically happens with novels of this nature, something goes horribly wrong en route to the planned peace meeting; and it’s this catalyst that narratively propels Cox’s story into the past not once but twice … in surprising and actually very fulfilling ways.
Firstly, readers learn of a terrorist act along with what looks like a kidnapping happened during the time period of the Star Trek television series (roughly, I believe, in what would’ve been its third season). Starfleet orders Captain Kirk and company to both investigate and recover the kidnapped geneticist, Dr. Taya Hamparian (an Andorian/Human hybrid), from the clutches of a madman. With the crew of the Enterprise on the case, the audience can rest assured that the good doctor will be found … but whether or not she will turnout to be who she claims she is suddenly comes under suspicion.
Secondly, Cox sets another parallel storyline in 2024: hot on the heels of her first successful audio series, podcaster Melinda Silver begins looking into the mysterious mid-1980’s disappearance of Dr. Gillian Taylor (first brought to life so vividly in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home) who seemingly vanished without a trace after her humpback whales were released from the safe confines of the Cecatean Institute in San Francisco, California. Step by step, Silver contacts anyone who may’ve had any contact with the missing woman; and slowly her investigation evolves to touch upon a few of the related incidents from Golden Gate Park (where Taylor’s truck was found abandoned) and Mercy General Hospital (where she was seen with a few unidentified men).
It's always been my policy to avoid spoiling any major reveals, so I really don’t want to go into any greater detail about the events except to say that, yes, there are a few solid hooks that Cox uses to structure the bulk of the action. While (frankly) the Trek movie era bits remain almost exclusively the prospect of the novel’s set-up and conclusion, an argument could be made that – with some clever editing and rewriting – they could be eliminated entirely, though I’m not suggesting that would make for a better overall story. The point is that, yes, there’s a bit of excess in only that framework, chiefly because even after reading the tale I’m not entirely convinced the Osori’s initial motivation about disclosing themselves to the Federation and others really had much predicate. They’re here – and they are tied into the villain’s premise – but their motivation to come clean with the universe should’ve been more greatly justified.
Otherwise, I’d suggest that this is, by far, one of the better works by Cox I’ve had the good fortune to read. The stuff set in 2024 – while being a bit over-the-top and still a bit simplistic in a few spots – is handled very well; and Silver doesn’t emerge so much as a compelling individual voice as she does a character who inadvertently finds herself swept up in the intrigue. She does occasionally get written as a bit of a girl-boss – sorry, not a fan of such trappings – but it never grows to the point of becoming irritating, nor does anything she does ever hijack the narrative on behalf of some contemporary politicking (that ruins far too many acceptable yarns). While Cox’s dialogue for the various Trek characters is convincing, he still throws in the ill-timed barb that might have long-time fans asking, “Would Kirk really say that?” (Or McCoy. Or Spock.) Thankfully, a good deal of those asides are forgettable; and the momentum keeps moving forward each era’s respective mysteries in entertaining fashion.
I’d certainly stop short of christening Lost To Eternity as a great Star Trek novel.
It’s very, very, very good – maybe even great in a few spots – and that’s good enough.
What’s most admirable about Cox’s work here is that each timeframe he clearly punctuates with ideas and images and dialogue that feels authentic. Some of the franchise’s authors stray a bit into what I’ll dub ‘highbrow material’ hoping to bestow perhaps stronger literary credibility on the books; and – sorry, folks – that just doesn’t interest me. If you want to compete with mainstream Science Fiction authors in that arena of ideas, then more power to you: go and do it. Stop trying to take Star Trek and turn it into, say, hard Science Fiction because that just doesn’t work so well. Unlike so many others, Cox knows his audiences, and he writes both to and for them: that alone deserves an affectionate nod.
Much in the way that some of us old time Trekkers are willing to accept some moments of pure cringe in order to enjoy Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, even the weak passages of Eternity work well enough to be embraced. It’s definitely one of the better ones I’ve read in quite some time, and that bodes well enough to have me looking into other reasonably recent releases in order to keep the classic Trek heart beating for fans who prefer the original.
Recommended.
-- EZ
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