Sisko and his crew are stranded on a planet with no communications and few supplies, and outnumbered by a group of Jem'Hadar. But these Jem'Hadar are in an equally dire situation: they too are marooned, their Vorta is critically injured, and their supply of ketracel-white is dangerously low. There is a way out... but not for everyone on both sides. Meanwhile, aboard Terok Nor, Kira is snapped from her new routine when a Vedek makes her realize that she has become a collaborator with an evil occupying force.
The Dominion War was a chance for Deep Space Nine to present Star Trek's take on some of the classic stories of the war movie genre. This episode is the "victory that doesn't feel like victory," and packs the biggest emotional punch of the story arc. For this to work, we have to feel the needless sacrifice of the Jem'Hadar soldiers at the climax of the episode. And so the episode devotes a lot of time to these enemy soldiers: it builds Remata'Klan up as a soldier of unwavering honor, introduces the deceit of the Vorta Keevan well before he meets any of our heroes, and shows the effects of white withdraw on the Jem'Hadar.
But of course, we spend plenty of time with our main characters too. We see the gallows humor they use to get through hard times -- O'Brien complaining of his ripped pants, and Sisko and Dax talking about her injury as though it's a stay in a fancy hotel. There's other lived history between the characters too, particularly involving Nog, who swaps curses with O'Brien (acceptable 90s television curses, anyway), and tells Garak he doesn't trust him after recent events.
It's when these two separate groups collide that the real dramatic sparks fly. Keevan, in a wonderfully smarmy performance by actor Christopher Shea, is eager to sell out his troops to save his own life. Sisko is loathe to work with such a snake, but he will do whatever he can to protect his people. Still, he tries every angle to try to convince Remata'Klan, played with perfect nobility and loyalty by Phil Morris, to give up the fight. In the end, no one but Keevan is happy with the way things end... but everyone being who they are to a fault, it's the only way things could end.
Extensive filming on location enhances the impact of the episode. There are occasional visual effects (the stolen Jem'Hadar ship sinking in the ocean, Jem'Hadar looking over a treacherous cliff at raging water below), but it's mostly all natural, and shot in uncommon ways for Star Trek: a long telephoto lens for the fire fights and the hostage exchange, "dirty singles" (closeups in which part of another character is visible) just before the final confrontation, and more.
Getting this footage proved to be a real challenge for the production. This episode was actually filmed after the one that aired next, to accommodate going on location -- but then the timing turned out to be terrible. After a week of mild weather before the filming, there were record temperatures peaking at 128° during parts of the shoot. Jem'Hadar makeup was melting into actors' eyes (you can see the redness in some shots), and heavy costumes put actors in constant danger of heat stroke. Filming slowed so much that an intended final scene, with Worf coming to the rescue after O'Brien sends a distress signal, was never shot. The producers were reportedly quite upset -- until director Michael Vejar and editor Steve Tucker insisted that ending the episode on an exchange of looks between Keevan and Sisko was stronger anyway. (And they were surely right.)
All that already makes for one of the most impactful episodes of Deep Space Nine in some time. But then it's paired with an even more potent story aboard the station. Kira realizing that she's become the very thing she hated all her life, a collaborator, would be a strong story regardless. But the way it's told makes it stronger still, the most impactful moments playing out with little or no dialogue. We see two versions of Kira's daily routine, one in which she's blind to what she's come to accept as normal, and a second in which she's disgusted by every moment of it. And between these, the suicide protest of Vedek Yassim also plays without dialogue, and using another rare filming technique for Star Trek: slow motion.
When there is dialogue in this story line, though, it's quite effective. In one scene, Jake is the probing reporter with difficult questions that Kira doesn't want to answer. In another, Yassim (played memorably by Lilyan Chauvin) paints the Dominion in stark terms, and is in disbelief that Kira doesn't see it the same way. At the end of the story, when Kira stands in the spot where Yassim killed herself, Nana Visitor delivers a powerful monologue revealing the depths of her character's self-loathing. We've seen Visitor cry and rage before to convey a depth of feeling; this moment is yet another gear, chilling in its restraint.
Other observations:
- Dax is injured in the episode's teaser (in a flashy stunt), but goes on to have an important role in the story despite being sidelined in a sick bed. The plot was constructed this way to accommodate for Terry Ferrell's extreme sensitivity to sunlight, which had been a problem for location filming in the previous season. (And with the temperatures being what they were, it's a good thing!)
- This really is Ronald D. Moore's finest script for the series. I've praised the plot and many key scenes, but there's plenty of sharp dialogue and character even in the little moments: the Jem'Hadar wanting to see a Vorta cut open, Keevan's wry joke about Starfleet engineers who can "turn rocks into replicators," and Garak's observation that only humans shackle their conduct with "rules in war."
- Actor Phil Morris (perhaps best known as lawyer Jackie Chiles on Seinfeld), had previously played a Klingon on Deep Space Nine. He had a great take on the difference in playing a Jem'Hadar here. Klingons are "macho. They talk about how bad they are. But the Jem'Hadar are the baddest boys in the bar, so they don't need to talk about it."
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