Imagine, if you will, that you're the Earl of Grantham. You live in Downton Abbey. Before you lived there, your father, the Earl of Grantham, lived there. And before he lived there his father, the Earl of Grantham, lived there. In fact for as long as people have been writing down who lives where, your family has been living in that house. That's not to say your family hasn't changed, of course. Time has progressed, and so have the Earls of Grantham. You're far more progressive than your forefathers, and you're certainly not afraid of Welshmen like they were.
One morning you get up late feeling Early. You pop into one of the house's many bathrooms but before you can take position on your throne the sink vanishes, and where it stood there is now a man chewing on a leek who introduces himself as Mr Rhys Jones.
You ought to say "Hullo!" because that's what old upper-class people say when surprised. You ought also to say "Would you like a cup of tea?" because this fellow has seemingly travelled all the way from Wales to appear in your bathroom. But all you can manage is a strangled groan of horror. Did you think you weren't afraid of Welshmen anymore? Did you think Cymrophobia was a silly old superstition? Oh, what a nincompoop you are.
While you stand there quaking in your exceedingly comfortable slippers, the Welshman reaches into his pocket and whips out a photograph. The photo is old, very old. So old, in fact, that it predates the invention of the camera, and thus the picture quality is rather poor. It seems to show someone who can only be Mr Jones' great-great-great-great grandparents stood in front of Downton Abbey, but it's hard to be sure. Mr Jones, however, is sure. He explains that his ancestors lived in this house before being ruthlessly evicted and forced to live on the barren, hellish streets of Hull. Since that time his family has been searching for a way back to its true home, and now he's here to claim what is rightfully his.
It's a moral quandary, right? Mr Jones thinks the Earl of Grantham is the descendant of whoever evicted his ancestors. The Earl knows that's not the case. Jones wants his old house back, but as far as the Earl is concerned the house has always been and always will be the Earl of Grantham's. Maybe Jones could have the spare room. But as far as the Welshman is concerned, the Earl should be the one taking the spare room. Or even better, he should take the room o' death as punishment for evicting his family so long ago.
The above is literally the plot of the Invasion! series of books. And when I saw literally I mean figuratively. And when I say figuratively I mean vaguely. The first book in the tetralogy certainly follows this précis. An alien alliance appears in the Alpha Quadrant and claims it used to live there, but was ousted five thousand years ago by an evil race. They believe that the Federation et al. are those ousters, but the Federation knows that can't be the case. Both sides attempt to find a peaceful solution to the problem, but both sides ultimately make mistakes that lead to the issue being solved in the same way that issues have been solved since prehistory: with photon torpedoes.
First Strike, the first story, is not particularly well written nor that interesting. But the ethical issues that underpin it do elevate it from a naff science fiction story to a mediocre one. Unfortunately things go downhill from there. The other three stories in the series ignore the moral ambiguities of the plot. In the second story, to use the above terminology, Mr Jones' friends return to Downton Abbey, but now they have a fancy new weapon. Any philosophising is tossed aside: now they're the bad guys, the Enterprise's crew are the good guys, and that's all there is to it. The story is exceedingly short and it's made clear early on that someone will have to sacrifice himself to save the day. If only there was a hitherto unknown character present who we could get attached to only for him to sacrifice himself and save the day. (Spoiler: there's totally such a character.)
The third story is perhaps the best of the four. It deals with the Jones family's evictors rather than the Jones themselves. As such it doesn't get to rely on the ethical conundrum as a crutch, but instead needs to support itself as a decent story in its own right. It manages this better than the other three tales, but it's still dragged down by patchy writing, and some confusing aspects to the plot. It also seems to run counter to several major plot points already established in the preceding stories.
The fourth and final part of the series heads to Hull (in the language established above, I mean). Ethical questions resound once more. This time the major question is: if you knew the entire Jones family was going to come to your house in order to reclaim it, are you within your rights to massacre them—women, children, pets, and all—in order to save your home? There's a somewhat cringeworthy chapter where this question is considered, or rather asked a bunch of times, and then summarily answered. It's about as unsatisfying as not having tea with your afternoon crumpets. As is the ad hoc third act, which seems to be designed to suck all dramatic tension from the story by variously claiming that the current obstacle will be easy to overcome or else impossible to overcome. Obstacles are interesting when they are difficult, and characters grow when they overcome these difficult obstacles. Simply saying "This is impossible!" and then having characters do it anyway makes me lose respect for the author, not gain respect for the characters.
So the individual stories in the series aren't that smashing. Worse: the series as a whole doesn't hang together that well. Contradictions abound between the four tales. It reads as though the authors were given the overarching idea of the series, and some vague points to weave in, and then left to it. If anything it reminded me of the Space Odyssey series by Arthur C. Clarke: four stories that are thematically linked and feature recurring characters, but that are accepted to take place in four different Universes, if only so the internal contradictions don't ruin the story. Alas, it's hard to use the same excuse in the Star Trek universe.
Given the poor showing this year, if I do my annual spurt of Star Trek reading next Christmas I think I'll have to delve into some crossovers. Maybe Star Trek: Downton Abbey. And if that doesn't exist then dammit, I'll just have to write it myself.