By David Mack

Pocket Books, out now

The previously untold tale of Seven of Nine’s life after Voyager’s return.

On the face of it, David Mack’s Firewall may be just the latest in a long line of rip-roaring adventures set in the Star Trek universe we all know and love … but it’s also a lot more than that. Firewall isn’t just a good Star Trek novel – it’s a masterful exploration of the dynamics of self-discovery, deconstruction, reinvention, growth, found family, and queer love that even many non-Trekkers will find immensely satisfying.

Mack calls Firewall a “coming-of-age story” for Seven of Nine, the former Borg drone liberated from the Collective by Captain Janeway and the crew of the Starship Voyager. It’s an apt description, but it really undersells the depth of his prose (which, by the way, is at its peak in this tome – description and dialogue alike are consistently artful and evocative without ever veering into purple territory).

To this reviewer, Firewall reads less like a traditional “coming-of-age” story and more like a peek into the hearts of the many, many people who have in recent years come to recognize toxicities in the way they were brought up and have sought to break those cycles, even as they grapple with their enduring filial love toward those who did them wrong. It’s also a searingly honest reflection of what it’s like to be forced by circumstances beyond your control to completely reinvent yourself as an adult – when you have no choice but to turn your back on a long-held dream and ask yourself, “Now what?”

Then, of course, there’s the queer love story – which I will not spoil here other than to reassure readers that it is beautifully and authentically rendered, and not at all sullied by cheap appeals to the “male gaze.” (A welcome mercy when it comes to Seven of Nine, who was too often inappropriately hypersexualized during Voyager’s run.)

So, let’s get into it.

Fans of Star Trek: Picard will be aware that sometime between her arrival in the Alpha Quadrant with the crew of the Starship Voyager in 2378 and her appearance as a member of the mysterious Fenris Rangers during the events of that show some 23 years later, Seven underwent a significant transformation, evolving from an emotionally repressed, naïve ex-Borg drone with questionable taste in men (sorry, Chakotay!) to a confident, hard-edged vigilante with an affinity for strong, capable women. Firewall tells the story of that evolution.

In the aftermath of Voyager’s triumphant return to Federation space after blowing up the Borg Unicomplex, things have not gone well for Seven. Her only living blood relation refuses to stop calling her by her birth name, Annika Hansen, leaving Seven feeling misunderstood and disrespected in her hard-won identity as an individual. She sought Federation citizenship and a Starfleet commission but was denied both due to her Borg past. Her remaining visible cybernetic implants and the nanoprobes she carries in her bloodstream remain sources of fear and distrust among the war-weary residents of the Federation, prompting her to hide herself away under baggy coats with floppy hoods.

For many months, her mentor Kathryn Janeway – now an Admiral – has fought fiercely and unsuccessfully for appeal. Not wanting to damage Janeway’s career, Seven decides (despite Janeway’s strong objection) it’s time to go – where, she isn’t sure, but there doesn’t appear to be a future for her in Starfleet. So she heads for the outer reaches of Federation space, seeking a place where she can be useful… and that might someday feel like home.

She winds up on a filthy backwater industrial world straight out of Blade Runner or Cyberpunk 2077 – all factories, cramped apartment towers, noisy street vendors, and seedy watering holes. The replicator in her flat is busted and will only produce rotted kimchi with so much spicy red pepper that it makes her vomit. There is a fetid stench coming from her shower drain that no one seems able or willing to fix. By day, she is a cog in the industrial machine, boxing up components coming off an assembly line and routing them on pallets to their next destination – a job so brainless and dead-simple that her boss quips that it would be “a waste of a synth.” By night, she likes to dance.

Right now, Voyager fans are probably remembering Seven’s unfortunate history with dancing – thanks to her Borg strength, she accidentally broke a crewmate’s arm while dancing in the holodeck on a painfully awkward first date (“Someone to Watch Over Me”). So, you’ll be either relieved or alarmed to know that this isn’t salsa dancing or the waltz. No, Seven has found emotional release and a feeling of camaraderie slam-dancing in the mosh pit at a punk bar frequented by the local queer community.

Punk music and its social scene heavily inspired Firewall. I’ll cover that in more depth in an upcoming piece, so I won’t dwell on that in this review. I’ll just say that it is in this bar where we get our first look at the depth of Seven’s longing for connection – emotional, physical, sensual – and how unfulfilled she is in her self-imposed exile.

The adventure kicks off the next morning when, as Seven is nursing a hangover at a local greasy spoon diner, a mysterious stranger claiming to work for the Federation Security Agency sits down at her table and makes her a deal she can’t refuse: Infiltrate the Fenris Rangers and report on their activities to the FSA, and he’ll make sure she gets Federation citizenship and a Starfleet commission. Seven is suspicious at first, but the dangled promise of her dreams fulfilled proves too tempting to pass up, and she flies off to find the Fenris Rangers.

I won’t spoil the fun by telling you what happens after that – go and read the book; you won’t be sorry! What I really want to share in this review is who this book is for, and what you’re going to get out of reading it.

Firewall is for you if:

  • You’ve ever had to unlearn a worldview – toxic or otherwise – and rebuild a new one from scratch. We’ve seen Seven go through this process of deconstruction and reconstruction twice now. First, she unlearned her Borg programming with the help of Captain Janeway and her crew and replaced it with Starfleet’s values. In Firewall, she reaches Federation space and finds that it is far less reflective of those values than she ever expected. She realizes she was sheltered from that reality by her Voyager family and realizes it’s up to her now to examine the Federation for what it really is and decide for herself what her values are going to be.
  • You’ve ever had to reinvent yourself, especially for reasons out of your control. By any rational measure, Seven is eminently qualified to serve in Starfleet, but they stubbornly refuse to accept her. This leaves her resentful, reeling, aimless, and drifting as she sets out to try to find her place in the universe. That’s a scary place to be, as anyone who has ever been through a forced and unwanted career or lifestyle change knows all too well.
  • You identified or embraced your sexuality or gender identity later in life. Seven has some dating experience as of Firewall’s start, but it’s all with men, and her approach to romance has been very much shaped – or confined – by the overwhelming heteronormativity of her Voyager crewmates.  When she realizes she is actually attracted to women, she must learn a whole new language and set of rules (both spoken and unspoken) when it comes to flirting and romance – an intimidating prospect, and one that will no doubt resonate with anyone who has had to re-enter the dating scene as a newly “out” queer adult.
  • You’re neurodivergent. Seven’s Borg background means she sees and processes the world differently than most other sentient beings, and she often feels lost and alone, even – or maybe especially – in an otherwise friendly crowd:

 “Seven felt alone. Cut off. Lonely. … the art of flirting continued to elude her. It was as if everyone around her were speaking a language she had never been taught.” –David Mack’s Firewall, p. 22

  • You value the concept of “found family.” Seven already had one “found family” in the crew of Voyager, but her journey with the Fenris Rangers leads her to even deeper connections with the people she’s learning to trust and rely on. (Bring tissues for at least one scene that will break your heart while simultaneously making it ten times bigger.)
  • You love Star Trek and all it stands for. Firewall may be an epic emotional journey, but it’s also a rollicking good time with some major moments of win for our heroes and plenty of the sharp and witty social commentary that characterizes Trek at its best.

Verdict: Firewall hits a solid Warp 9.9 out of 10 – the maximum enjoyment rating possible without risking salamander babies.

Kirsten Heffron

 Click here to order from Amazon.co.uk