2x19 Blood Oath

[8.2/10] One of the central questions in moral philosophy is “What do we owe each other?” But there’s an important, subsidiary question there -- what do we owe ourselves, or the people who we used to be? Few of us go through the sort of transformations Dax has. But all of us are different people now than we were a decade, or a quarter-century, or in the case of our forehead-ridged friends, a hundred years ago. How we honor commitments made over that span of years, how we weigh our present values versus the ones we used to hold dear, is a lifelong quandary.

As usual, Deep Space Nine finds a moving, science fiction-y way to explore it. Jadzia finds herself in the company of three old Klingon buddies of Curzon. They’re not here for a social visit. They arrive on the station ready to avenge the deaths of their sons, under the aegis of a blood oath they took to hunt down the perpetrator and devour his bloody heart in glorious battle. Curzon joined them in that oath. He was the godfather to one of those shamefully poisoned children. And now Dax must weigh her former identity with her present one, and the morals Jadzia carries as a young Starfleet officer against the mores of Klingon justice Curzon committed himself to.

There’s such power in those notions. The stellar and stalwart DS9 scribe, Peter Allan Fields, sets up the motivations and conflicts here beautifully. This isn’t just a foolhardy commitment to join in some bit of bloody revelry. It was a promise Curzon made to the father of a child who was named for him. Jadzia didn’t make that promise, and is released from it by her warrior brethren to boot, but feels the obligation to the child, and to her cantankerous but hallowed predecessor.

The central question here is whether this is still her fight. The truth is, I don’t know the answer to the question. Kang and Kira note a very practical Trill philosophy that a joined host is not bound to the debts, literal or spiritual, of prior hosts, because they’d never be able to crawl out from under them otherwise. And yet, there is meaning in Jadzia not being bound by law or code, but instead choosing to honor Curzon, to honor her friends, to honor a lost child, and join them in living up to the bargain another Dax once made.

Of course, keeping that promise has extra resonance when it’s one made to the three most prominent Klingons who preceded Worf in the franchise. (Give or take Commander Kruge; I see you Search for Spock fans.) Kor, who tangled with Kirk on Organia; Koloth, who dealt with the infamous replicating fuzz balls not once, but twice; and Kang, who experienced both rage and peace under an alien influence aboard the original Enterprise, make their welcome returns to the franchise in “Blood Oath”.

Their presence serves the dual purposes of the episode. They don’t look as they did in episodes like “Errand of Mercy”, “The Trouble with Tribbles”, and “Day of the Dove”. Gone is the shoe polish and scruff facial appliance. In their place is the more modern ridged look that began with the Klingons in Star Trek: The Motion Picture. They don’t even act particularly similarly to the characters as we saw them in the 1960s, with styles and personalities that befit the passage of time in-universe and in the real world.

And yet, we accept them all the same. John Colicos, William Campbell (who also played Trelane), and Michael Ansara reprise their roles. The differences are acceptable, both because we’d all carry different attitudes and appearances across nearly a century’s worth of time, but because Fields and the writers’ room gives them each character and personality to latch onto in their here and now.

Kor is a rowdy drunk. Koloth is a stoic “ice man.” And Kang is a resigned fading lion, hoping to carry out his futile crusade and attain his honor. There’s no mention made of their past skirmishes with the likes of Spock or Scotty. Nevertheless, the three men carry the mantle of the past with them, in word and in deed, which makes Dax resolving to join this all-star team of Kirk-era Klingons all the more resonant. It’s a way for Deep Space Nine to honor commitments Star Trek made to these characters, to the world they came from, even though they and it are very different from when the grease-smudged brutes first arrived in 1967.

But it requires Jadzia to seek out the chance to deal death, something she’s not sure she’s comfortable with. In truth, “Blood Oath” doesn’t fully resolve the issue. It features a gripping conversation between her and Kira about what taking a life takes from you. It adds a layer to the relationship between Dax and Sisko over whether a Starfleet officer can take a leave of absence to go on an honor killing and just be welcomed back into the fold. (Shades of Worf vs. Duras!) Despite that, once she’s done the deed and returns as though nothing’s happened, all she gets is a stern look from Sisko and one of understanding from Kira. I honestly appreciate some of the underplaying and nuance there, but there’s a lack of consequences to her choice which is a little disappointing.

Before she can resolve to go out and take lives in the name of righteousness though, she has to convince the trio of Klingons that she’s still the person they remember. I’m not qualified to speak to how well that captures the experience of transgender indivdiuals via the metaphor that so often applies to Dax, but I can say from my vantage point, it makes for strong character dynamics.

Kor nigh instantly accepts Jadzia, in a warm embrace of the heart. He is the hidden highlight of the hour, gregariously in his revelry with a soft undercurrent of regret at how far he’s fallen. His instant embrace of his old friend in a new guise is endearing from the jump. Unsentimental Koloth is more resistant and must go against Jadzia in battle before he accepts her as Dax. While the choreography is a little silly, the spirit of the scene prevails, and his ultimate, hard-won invitation to join their quest and the affirmation that comes with it is wholesome.

But it’s Kang, the wistful old general, who’s the most striking new arrival. He had the closest relationship with Curzon, despite a frosty start, and it seems his dispensation of the oath for Jadzia and unwillingness to bring her along are a product of his close-mindedness toward her. The truth, though, is that he knows their quest is a suicide mission, and it spurs him to push Jadzia aside, through some combination of not wanting his old friend to die on his account and not wanting a young woman to die on account of an old man’s promises.

What makes the difference here, though, to both Kang and for the storytelling, is that Dax has agency. She chooses to join this fight of her own accord. She reminds Kor of the history he now so gleefully relives and teaches. She persuades Koloth through her prowess in battle. And she appeals to Kang’s sense of honor, appealing to their shared history and convictions and the closeness shared by Dax. This is, for all its efforts to bring back old foes from thirty years ago, Jadzia’s story, and it’s all for the best.

Granted, Terry Farrell isn’t necessarily up for all of this. One of her fellow actors described DS9 as Farrell’s graduate school, and it shows in episodes like this that look to her to carry much of the weight. She’s never bad in “Blood Oath”. But it’s a tall order for any actor to carry and communicate the complex ethical and personal weight of a lost godson, a pledge made in a past life, and a moral dilemma of which part of yourself and your history to honor. Farrell is always solid, but not always able to meet that considerable challenge in every scene.

Despite that, she does yeoman’s work, and the episode puts its focus in the right places. Most of the goings-on here focus on Dax’s journey and her relationships with this triumvirate of Klingon warriors, with only the last act showing the actual battle they’ve spoken about so much. It makes this one about character and personality, not just fury and fisticuffs.

To the point, it’s Jadzia who turns Kang’s heart, persuading him that it may be a good day to die, but it’s better to live. The reveal that he’s made a deal with “The Albino”, his son’s killer, to die gloriously in a quasi-staged battle, feels like a resignation. Dax, spurred with more Klingon spirit than her counterpart, engages him to strive to win and succeed, rather than fight nobly in a doomed effort.

Frankly, the results are a little muddled. It’s cool to see the TOS era Klingons in action again. But they mostly fight knockoff Starship Troopers who go down with the slightest tap of a feather duster and their tactics are some combination of convenient and opaque. It also undermines Dax’s arc regarding killing when she hesitates to take out “The Albino”, but beats up and potentially kills his army of mooks.

Nevertheless, it is poignant when our heroes successfully avenge their sons with her help. Losing Koloth in the fight gives it stakes. Kang perishing as well, slaying his son’s killer in his dying moments, is poignant, even if his choice saves Dax from having to decide whether she’s ready to extinguish a life in the name of Curzon’s pledge. Kor singing the battle songs of his people, in memory of his honorably fallen friends, is melancholy and stirring. “Blood Oath” earns the force of these moments.

And it earns Dax returning to DS9 changed by these experiences. The series was still fairly episodic at this point, but suffice it to say, Jadzia would face life and death decisions again. Hers is a unique ethical conundrum to unravel, how to measure the morals she embraced in another life versus the ones she lives every day in this one.

Yet, to some degree, we all do the same. Thankfully, for most of us, it’s not about whether or not to kill someone. And maybe just as thankfully, the sense of honoring who we were in a past life is figurative rather than literal. But if we’re lucky, each of us grows up. Each of us changes. Each of us finds us confronting beliefs we held, dreams we had, promises we made that took place before the seismic shifts of age and maturity and loss that alter us over the rush of years. “Blood Oath” and Dax recognizes that, and tries to reckon with it.

Star Trek is a part of my past life. I watched shows like Deep Space Nine when I was a child who couldn’t recognize the significance of these themes and ideas, but was drawn to them nonetheless. My values, though informed by the ethical bent of a franchise long-concerned with doing what’s right, have evolved and, I’d like to think, matured since then. My faculties have, I hope, sharpened since then. And yet, going through these series now is, in a way fulfilling a promise to that young man who I no longer am. I owe it to him, to return to these stories, to see how my feelings about them have changed, and to mark the places where they still pierce me just as deeply.

(Spoilers for later episodes of Deep Space Nine: In hindsight, it’s interesting how Jadzia’s bond with Kor, Koloth, and Kang here presages her relationship with Worf.)

(Spoilers for the first season of Star Trek: Discovery: It’s also interesting, in hindsight, to see another albino Klingon besides Voq.)