Introduction to the First Edition
We all live in the shadow of the Klingon Cold War. As much as we in our golden age of exploration wish to pretend otherwise, the longstanding effects of nearly 40 years of hostility cannot be ignored. It reshaped our institutions, our politics, our society and our culture. It turned an expansive, brittle confederation into a truly interstellar superpower – and a weak feudal empire into an efficient autocracy. We tend to take these self-evident truths of the 24th century for granted, without asking the important questions of how they became self-evident in the first place. How do you make interstellar democracy work for everyone? How does that mass democracy prepare itself to take up arms against a would-be oppressor? How does it square its principles of liberty and autonomy with the immense efforts needed to defend them? And how does it survive when internal opponents try to destroy those principles from within?
Then, of course, there is the other side of that coin: how do you build peace – any kind of peace – in a society that has convinced itself that the only way to survive is through war? How do you build a modern interstellar state in a political system that values political assassination over cooperation? How do you maintain an Empire when your neighbour’s way of life seems entirely designed to undermine yours?
The Edge of Midnight is an attempt to answer these questions and more. Most crucially, it asks how exactly this clash of ideologies, Empires and societies did not result in the destruction of both states. The natural answer, of course, is to thank (or curse) the Organians, the non-corporeal beings who prevented the Four Day War from lasting for years. But that seems reductive. The confrontation between Federation and Empire that lasted 38 years – if not longer – produced enough political upheavals, rebellions, conspiracies, and coup d’états to topple both governments several times over. The Federation was marred by political division, military plots, secessionist movements and even civil war for most of the late 23rd century. The Klingon Empire veered from martial theocracy to military dictatorship to kleptocratic autocracy at a dangerous speed. If they had not annihilated each other, they had a very good chance of annihilating themselves in the process. And yet, they didn’t. Even once the Organians had disappeared from the galaxy, interspace war was avoided. The Federation’s democratic society survived – as did the Klingon’s honour-based system.
Even as the Khitomer Treaty was signed and the military fleets disbanded, we have never really stopped to ask ourselves why we survived. We have, as a society, patted ourselves on our backs and thanked our deities that we did not need to fight the Klingons or occupy their worlds. We moved on quickly, first to face the rising challenge of the Romulans, but then to step into a new golden age of exploration deep into the Alpha Quadrant. We left our Klingon friends behind. There have been a few great histories of the period, but these have tended to focus on one side of another and have failed to draw the important links between the central governments of both sides and the frontiers.
Those links are an important part of The Edge of Midnight. Access to Klingon and Orion archives has allowed me for the first time to interlink the stories of the Great Powers properly. By looking at the relationship between the Federation and Klingon Frontier – as well as the neutral powers that existed alongside both – we can understand how both sides were destined for confrontation; not just on astrographic terms, but ideological ones as well. That frontier divide is also crucial for understanding the joint crises of the 2260s in both the UFP and the Empire, as both states attempted to reassert central control over their colonial groupings. Internal politics – often side-lined into half-paragraphs and allusions in conversations around Astropolitics – cannot be ignored when it comes to the Klingon Cold War. Without L’Rell and Sturka’s savage reconstruction of the Klingon Empire, there would have been no dramatic escalation of tensions in the 2260s. On the other side, without the political instability of the 2260s and 70s, the Federation arguably would not have felt the need to resort to such confrontational reactions to Klingon expansionism.
One important difference between this book and others is the decision to start with the 2256-67 war, and not earlier. Standard periodisation suggests an earlier beginning to this era, with Qualac bav Vec’s The Cold War settling on the generally accepted date of 2225 as the beginning of the conflict. There are merits to this choice, especially in terms of analysing the place of the 2241-45 escalation between the battles of Axanar and Donatu V. So why have I chosen not to follow suit? Bav Vec’s periodisation is ideal for an analysis of Starfleet’s cold war experience but suffers when one attempts to include that of the Federation government – and, more importantly, the experience of the Klingon Empire. In both these cases, 2257 marks a more important inflexion point. For the Federation, it marks the beginning of a period of serious political instability that would forge the modern council and presidency. For the Klingons, the rise of L’Rell and Sturka marks the end of the disparate, insular martial theocracy of the 22nd century, and the birth of the military autocracy of the 23rd century, built on the warped legacy of T’Kuvma.
By starting there, with the massive shifts in political, governmental and social norms, I hoped to convey that these levers were key to the development of the cold war, and the escalation that led to Organia. They also help understand why the Organian Peace Treaty did not lead to an immediate détente, and in fact, helped to maintain hostile relations for the 25 years afterwards. Starfleet’s actions on the frontier are properly defined by the decisions made by Barreuco, Wescott and others in Paris, the same way the Klingon Imperial Navy’s decisions were defined by the arguments of Sturka, Kesh and others. This is, of course, not an attack on the agency of those on the ground; but a counterargument against the idea that Starfleet and the Imperial Navy were the central actors in the cold war. Within this book, they have equal parts alongside the governments of both powers, as well as private citizens, soldiers, merchants and others.
One key aspect of this book is my intense focus on the personal account or recollection as a key source. These have come to me from several sources – personal interviews with Peter Toussaint, Ivy Knightwick and Kor, Son of Rynar, along with other recorded interviews with James T. Kirk, Harry Morrow, and others. The memoirs of some of the other figures – Ken Wescott, TK Rogers, Schinn T’Gai Sarek to name a few – have been vital to filling in the gaps for these “great people of history”. It is perhaps unfashionable in this third decade of the 24th century to focus on the primary account as a tool of history – the influence of multitronic psychohistory on our subject is a debate for another book – but I still place immense value on the recollections of those who were there at the time. The importance of the letters of Matthew Decker and N’Garriez of Rigel II cannot be understated. The latters’ diaries have been especially important to the writing of these books, and in highlighting the importance of individual agents within the “Great Game” of galactic politics.
Edge of Midnight is about these people. It is a book of high interstellar drama; of battles in distant nebulas; of generals, admirals, chancellors and presidents; but it is at heart a book about people and their place in history. These are not the people of destiny, but individuals; chief engineers on starships, merchants, Marine Corps sergeants, actors on this stage but also observers to the events that shaped our galaxy. Within the mission statement of this book, they also serve to remind us of how they saw the galaxy they lived in and the challenges they faced. It is easy for us to pretend that the post-Khitomer friendship we enjoy was inevitable, but through their eyes, we will understand how distant that appeared in 2257.
There are many, many subjects that will be passed over in this book. The scope of history is vast, and even a focused study on Astropolitics will need to ignore certain aspects. I hope that by providing an overview of Federation–Klingon relations – alongside the place of other powers within that conflict – I can do the complexity of the 23rd century some justice. It was a time of heroes and villains; of cowboy diplomacy and revolutionary radicals; when the hopes of and dreams of billions across the Beta Quadrant hung in the balance. I hope I have done them justice.
Seamus Devenish, August 2320
Then, of course, there is the other side of that coin: how do you build peace – any kind of peace – in a society that has convinced itself that the only way to survive is through war? How do you build a modern interstellar state in a political system that values political assassination over cooperation? How do you maintain an Empire when your neighbour’s way of life seems entirely designed to undermine yours?
The Edge of Midnight is an attempt to answer these questions and more. Most crucially, it asks how exactly this clash of ideologies, Empires and societies did not result in the destruction of both states. The natural answer, of course, is to thank (or curse) the Organians, the non-corporeal beings who prevented the Four Day War from lasting for years. But that seems reductive. The confrontation between Federation and Empire that lasted 38 years – if not longer – produced enough political upheavals, rebellions, conspiracies, and coup d’états to topple both governments several times over. The Federation was marred by political division, military plots, secessionist movements and even civil war for most of the late 23rd century. The Klingon Empire veered from martial theocracy to military dictatorship to kleptocratic autocracy at a dangerous speed. If they had not annihilated each other, they had a very good chance of annihilating themselves in the process. And yet, they didn’t. Even once the Organians had disappeared from the galaxy, interspace war was avoided. The Federation’s democratic society survived – as did the Klingon’s honour-based system.
Even as the Khitomer Treaty was signed and the military fleets disbanded, we have never really stopped to ask ourselves why we survived. We have, as a society, patted ourselves on our backs and thanked our deities that we did not need to fight the Klingons or occupy their worlds. We moved on quickly, first to face the rising challenge of the Romulans, but then to step into a new golden age of exploration deep into the Alpha Quadrant. We left our Klingon friends behind. There have been a few great histories of the period, but these have tended to focus on one side of another and have failed to draw the important links between the central governments of both sides and the frontiers.
Those links are an important part of The Edge of Midnight. Access to Klingon and Orion archives has allowed me for the first time to interlink the stories of the Great Powers properly. By looking at the relationship between the Federation and Klingon Frontier – as well as the neutral powers that existed alongside both – we can understand how both sides were destined for confrontation; not just on astrographic terms, but ideological ones as well. That frontier divide is also crucial for understanding the joint crises of the 2260s in both the UFP and the Empire, as both states attempted to reassert central control over their colonial groupings. Internal politics – often side-lined into half-paragraphs and allusions in conversations around Astropolitics – cannot be ignored when it comes to the Klingon Cold War. Without L’Rell and Sturka’s savage reconstruction of the Klingon Empire, there would have been no dramatic escalation of tensions in the 2260s. On the other side, without the political instability of the 2260s and 70s, the Federation arguably would not have felt the need to resort to such confrontational reactions to Klingon expansionism.
One important difference between this book and others is the decision to start with the 2256-67 war, and not earlier. Standard periodisation suggests an earlier beginning to this era, with Qualac bav Vec’s The Cold War settling on the generally accepted date of 2225 as the beginning of the conflict. There are merits to this choice, especially in terms of analysing the place of the 2241-45 escalation between the battles of Axanar and Donatu V. So why have I chosen not to follow suit? Bav Vec’s periodisation is ideal for an analysis of Starfleet’s cold war experience but suffers when one attempts to include that of the Federation government – and, more importantly, the experience of the Klingon Empire. In both these cases, 2257 marks a more important inflexion point. For the Federation, it marks the beginning of a period of serious political instability that would forge the modern council and presidency. For the Klingons, the rise of L’Rell and Sturka marks the end of the disparate, insular martial theocracy of the 22nd century, and the birth of the military autocracy of the 23rd century, built on the warped legacy of T’Kuvma.
By starting there, with the massive shifts in political, governmental and social norms, I hoped to convey that these levers were key to the development of the cold war, and the escalation that led to Organia. They also help understand why the Organian Peace Treaty did not lead to an immediate détente, and in fact, helped to maintain hostile relations for the 25 years afterwards. Starfleet’s actions on the frontier are properly defined by the decisions made by Barreuco, Wescott and others in Paris, the same way the Klingon Imperial Navy’s decisions were defined by the arguments of Sturka, Kesh and others. This is, of course, not an attack on the agency of those on the ground; but a counterargument against the idea that Starfleet and the Imperial Navy were the central actors in the cold war. Within this book, they have equal parts alongside the governments of both powers, as well as private citizens, soldiers, merchants and others.
One key aspect of this book is my intense focus on the personal account or recollection as a key source. These have come to me from several sources – personal interviews with Peter Toussaint, Ivy Knightwick and Kor, Son of Rynar, along with other recorded interviews with James T. Kirk, Harry Morrow, and others. The memoirs of some of the other figures – Ken Wescott, TK Rogers, Schinn T’Gai Sarek to name a few – have been vital to filling in the gaps for these “great people of history”. It is perhaps unfashionable in this third decade of the 24th century to focus on the primary account as a tool of history – the influence of multitronic psychohistory on our subject is a debate for another book – but I still place immense value on the recollections of those who were there at the time. The importance of the letters of Matthew Decker and N’Garriez of Rigel II cannot be understated. The latters’ diaries have been especially important to the writing of these books, and in highlighting the importance of individual agents within the “Great Game” of galactic politics.
Edge of Midnight is about these people. It is a book of high interstellar drama; of battles in distant nebulas; of generals, admirals, chancellors and presidents; but it is at heart a book about people and their place in history. These are not the people of destiny, but individuals; chief engineers on starships, merchants, Marine Corps sergeants, actors on this stage but also observers to the events that shaped our galaxy. Within the mission statement of this book, they also serve to remind us of how they saw the galaxy they lived in and the challenges they faced. It is easy for us to pretend that the post-Khitomer friendship we enjoy was inevitable, but through their eyes, we will understand how distant that appeared in 2257.
There are many, many subjects that will be passed over in this book. The scope of history is vast, and even a focused study on Astropolitics will need to ignore certain aspects. I hope that by providing an overview of Federation–Klingon relations – alongside the place of other powers within that conflict – I can do the complexity of the 23rd century some justice. It was a time of heroes and villains; of cowboy diplomacy and revolutionary radicals; when the hopes of and dreams of billions across the Beta Quadrant hung in the balance. I hope I have done them justice.
Seamus Devenish, August 2320
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