An appreciated albeit underwhelming addition to the Alien series. The Cold Forge follows the formula established by the original Alien, and which has been wonderfully recaptured in the prior novels Out of the Shadows, Sea of Sorrow, and River of Pain, and offers a fresh new story that can be read on its own without any prior knowledge of the series to enjoy.
This is a Horror book, not an action book as found with the Aliens series of novels/media. That plural means a lot; if you want "Hoo-huh!" and lots of guns and explosives, then the plural Aliens is where to go; for horror and intensity, it's the Alien series.
Again, this story maintains the formula of the original Alien. You have a space-station laboratory owned and maintained by the nefarious Weyland-Yutani corporation, and on-board are a bunch of relatively decent people who are increasing levels of shady working on generally evil stuff like killer computer viruses and commiting experiments on monstrous alien creatures which are always, time after time, too dangerous to contain, and who eventually become murdered by same experiments an creatures. The formula requires that at least one person goes crazy, that an android is present, and that you get at least one scene of a facehugger ramming a tentacle down someone's throat and a chestburster living up to its name, then as many other scenic kills by the titular Alien/Xenomorph (or, in this case, Snatcher--- which is a stupid name, sorry!) as possible.
It's a series, so--- I mean, if you don't like predictability at all, ever, then this series probably isn't for you. If you're a fan of cheap sci-fi and like a reliable, swift horror book for bedtime, then this is a great series of comfortable books to get involved with.
And this book is reliable; it sticks to formula 95%, but---
Probably the largest problem I have with this book is the extreme pandering to the Identity-Politics demographic, for the simple reason that such things have never existed in the Alien universe (as far as I'm aware) and it feels completely out of place. The lead character of this story is the ultimate in Minority points, a black lesbian cripple with gender dysphoria whose main enemy is a straight white man (Oh noes!), and the main problem here is that she's a shitty person, nearly as shitty as the chief antagonist, but we're supposed to sympathize with her for no reason. Or, more likely, we're supposed to sympathize because she's a black lesbian cripple with gender dysphoria whose main enemy is a straight white man, and ignore that she's a thief, endangers others, morally inconsistent, grossly self-centered, and is generally unlikable.
I honestly could not figure out the purpose of this character, repeatedly thought (and reallllly hoped) that she was a red-herring before the actual Hero/Heroine appeared, but every time I thought that the author was going to make a radical move towards her and address her awfulness in a meaningful way he backs off and it doesn't pay out, especially when it comes to this series.
The Alien series is utterly formulaic; there's Good (generally a morally consistent woman who utilizes intelligence to outwit murderous creatures and psychopathic men/robots) and there's Evil (the aliens, the corporate Male (sometimes female) figure from Weyland-Yutani, and corporations themselves (this is a series that began when everyone thought Japanese corporations were going to take over the world after all)). But that isn't the case here, and while it's easy to go "Yeah wow! Breaking up the formula!" that's not actually what happens; it's still an Alien story through and through, which is why this book is still enjoyable because it sticks to formula. What sucks here is the main character, who is utterly lousy and thoroughly unlikable, and there's no real justification for this other than the fact that the author believed too much that Victim-politics would make up for her weak characterization, which it does not--- at all.
Call me obnoxious, but the big draw of what made the Alien series so damn cool (and what continues to make it refreshing in its formula) was that the original protagonist was a woman who not only overcame her own short-comings but was also an immaculately constructed figure of sympathy for her earnest morality and the depths she will explore to maintain her vision of right and wrong. She could be black, asian, whatever; what's important is what she did. And that isn't the case here with this book, and so having a majorly fractured component in the formula, the Heroine herself, is a big problem.
So although it's an enjoyable book that largely sticks to formula, it deviates where it should not have. If you're going to take on writing for a series whose audience depend on consistency, then you need to write to that audience, and not to some Gender-Studies barista who filled you up with hocus pablum one time.