“My daughter cut me out of her life,” Faith lamented. Her ex deviously and sociopathically turned their daughter against Faith. He had lied and said that Faith had been having an affair with Jake Knight for their entire marriage, that she had screamed at him how she wished their daughter had been her daughter with Jake Knight. “I want her to know”—Faith choked out the words, staring directly at us—“Ashley, if you watch this, I miss you so much and I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.” She reminisced about their first holiday together after the divorce, that Halloween her daughter had requested to dress up as Commander Dinara Gorun. It wasn’t cool to go as Commander Dinara Gorun anymore, but Faith dug out her forehead and her dusty ray gun from storage. (Now we absolutely do not regret paying so much on an auction site for the bona fide silicone prosthetic forehead worn by Faith Massey in Starship Uprising.) Here, savvy editors at The Alcove displayed a faded and crinkled photo of Faith standing beside the girl Commander Dinara Gorun, one of those photos from a disposable camera once conveniently printed in the pharmacy next to tubes of hemorrhoid cream. “Isn’t she cute?” Faith was syrupy and melodious, the voice of nostalgia—a feeling to which we were not unaccustomed. “That is the best compliment I’ve ever received, her trick-or-treating as me.” We’re not too proud to admit that we shed a tear ourselves when she described smearing purple powder across her daughter’s cheeks and lowering onto her precious upturned face the silicone forehead as though it were a sacred crown. As Faith did her daughter’s makeup, she was overwhelmed with love.

We are overwhelmed with love for Faith Massey. It is interesting how her story compares to the plot of the episode she mentioned on The Alcove that inadvertently caused her dog to get thrown off the deck, the finale of season seven, entitled “The Secrets We Keep.” When Commander Dinara Gorun is telepathically tortured by the Voydals, Chokut Sar himself conducts the interrogation. The Audacity is en route to the headquarters of their empire to rescue her, despite the risks. Besides, the safest place to hide is often in plain sight. In between mind probes, Commander Dinara Gorun bonds with her fellow prisoners. They, too, are hiding in plain sight. The Voydals can’t torture them for information if they don’t know anything, so the rebels have figured out a method to embed critical communications into tumors that are grown inside the bodies of those who volunteer to be runners. Lucky runners who reach their intended destinations will have their tumors painlessly harvested and decrypted. Unlucky runners must make peace with destiny, that either the Voydals or the tumors will kill them—whichever comes first. Their sacrifice has been worth it, as the Voydals have been unable to crack the cancerous code. But the cruel twist is this: After the Audacity arrives, Commander Dinara Gorun refuses to leave with her crew. Chokut Sar possesses some of her memories, and she some of his. Torture acts like a narcotic for both torturer and victim, and it is highly addictive. Such violence can wipe out your body as well as your spirit, is the lesson we learn, like it did to Faith Massey. What’s amazing is how Starship Uprising has stayed topical and relevant to this day, so ahead of its time.