The Star Trek universe welcomes a new television show this year, simply yet unexpectedly titled Picard. To the glee of Trekkies everywhere, Patrick Stewart’s Jean-Luc Picard was announced to return to the screen after a twenty-six-year absence; having originally starred in Star Trek: The Next Generation from 1987 to 1994, and last seen in 2002’s Star Trek: Nemesis, the beloved Starfleet captain (later admiral) is back for at least another two seasons.

STARBURST had the pleasure of sitting down with Picard’s executive producers and creators, Alex Kurtzman, Akiva Goldsman, Michael Chabon, and Kirsten Beyer; Star Trek alumni Jeri Ryan and Jonathan Del Arco, reprising their respective roles as Seven of Nine and Hugh the Borg; newcomers and stars Isa Briones, Michelle Hurd, Evan Evagora and Harry Treadaway; and of course, the man of the hour himself, the legendary Sir Patrick Stewart.

“Next Generation has its own fanbase, which almost goes deeper than the broader franchise,” says Akiva Goldsman, “and Jean-Luc Picard is a huge and iconic part of that. So, if one is revisiting Star Trek, one is likely to have a fantasy about it. And in truth, it was little more than a fantasy at first! We were chatting about making a Short Trek, and the pitch was that maybe a young man could be revealed to be a young Picard. And then Alex [Kurtzman] has this tendency to always push you and ask, ‘Why stop there?’.”

And so, the prospective showrunners approached Stewart, hoping he would reprise his role as the iconic Starfleet captain. “For many years, any suggestion that I might revive this role in different formats and contexts, I passed on immediately – straight away and without hesitation,” explains Patrick Stewart. “And not because I wasn’t proud of what we did on Next Generation. I was, and I loved all the people that I worked with very, very much. But I thought I had said and done everything that could be said and done about Jean-Luc, and the Enterprise, and his relationship with the crew and so forth.

“But I found myself sitting in front of the producers one day, and they began to talk about the new series in a way that was unexpected. And all I did was listen… And then, I gave a bit of a long speech as to why I was going to turn them down,” he laughs. “That took them a little by surprise. But then they talked some more and went into more detail about the storyline. And when the meeting was over, I asked my agent to contact them, and ask if they could put in writing everything they’d said. Two days later, I got a 35-page pitch. It was undeniably interesting, and it was not going to be like what I had experienced previously. It would be different, a very different world… which appealed to me, because the real world too has changed in the last 19 years.”

Though Picard follows on from the deeply divisive Nemesis, executive producer Kirsten Beyer asserts that this is not course-correction. “It’s not the motivation. Sometimes in the wider universe, the books and all the things like that, stories exist just for that purpose, to work on something that we were uncomfortable with and maybe try to fix it. In this case though, it’s all driven from the character of Picard and elements of his story that still resonate,” like dealing with the aftermath of Data’s (Brent Spiner) death. Interestingly, Picard also appears to follow the canon established by J.J. Abrams’ rebooted film series, in which the planet of Romulus was destroyed.

In the time since passed, these events have led to a dramatic rift between Picard and the Federation, but Michael Chabon is keen to emphasise that the Federation has not become the ‘bad guy’ of the show. “I think that, in spite of the fact that Picard says he can no longer stand behind the Federation, he means something very specific by that. And what has gone wrong with the Federation is exactly the same thing that has gone wrong with Picard: they both made promises which terrible – almost impossible – circumstances forced them to break. It’s a tragic thing. It’s a painful thing. It is something that a governmental entity like the Federation is bound to encounter many times in the course of its history, just like the United States have. Picard will come to reckon with the effects of his having failed to keep the promise that he made.”

The new world in which Picard is set draws parallels with the current political climate, says Stewart. “I thought that they were addressing not only a science fiction story, but the world in its current condition – because it’s bad. It’s really bad. And so, if we can give little nudges to what we all believe about what’s going on…” he trails off. “What I liked about the proposal that Alex and the team made was that the world that we had inhabited, and the world of the Federation had changed. It was no longer the secure, trustworthy, reliable place that it had been. And that was one of the major things that convinced me that I should look seriously at reviving this, and I’m very glad that I did.”

The Federation is not the only thing to have dramatically changed, however. The man we reunite with is not the Picard of old. As Isa Briones, who stars as Dahj explains, “something I notice is that, in past iterations of Star Trek and in many sci-fi or superhero genres, we find ourselves looking at this wonderful leader, someone who is perfect. And of course, we do have a wonderful leader in Picard, but I think we’re done seeing stories of that perfect person who can solve everything. We want to see heroes as people, we want to see them be humans and make mistakes. And I think that is what we are bringing into this show. We are seeing the almighty Picard, but he’s retired and he’s unhappy.”

“When we first meet Jean-Luc, he is in poor shape,” says Stewart, but that does not mean that the character we know and love is gone. “Even over the space of the first episode, he undergoes change because of his encounter with Isa’s character. And as the story goes on, we see more of the spirited believer in him, and the transformation that come from being socially conscious and aware of other people.”

Also returning to a well-loved role is Jeri Ryan as Voyager’s Seven of Nine. Similarly to her co-star’s initial reaction, Ryan thought her character’s story was done. “The most interesting part of her, I thought, was her exploration of becoming human again,” states the actress,“and we did that. So I hadn’t given the idea of returning a lot of thought… But when the idea was first broached with me two years ago, once they started explaining where they saw her being twenty years on, I was very intrigued! It was all too interesting to pass up, because she’s been through a lot; she’s seen a lot of really dark, bad stuff over the last two decades, and she’s kind of hardened, she’s a bit more cynical. She’s been working with an independent law and order group, trying to keep some semblance of order in a galaxy that has gone to hell in a handbasket, something for which she holds Starfleet and the Federation very much responsible, and Picard as an extension of that.”

Picard will also reunite with another Borg alum, Hugh (Jonathan Del Arco). Del Arco hints that these last twenty years have not been easy for his character either and that Hugh “has had to make some difficult choices. He’s doing the best he can under the circumstances to keep his people safe and alive. But with that comes some really hard compromises for him that eat at him. He’s in a tough position, trying to figure out how to balance doing the most good at the worst time.”

Alongside Star Trek old-timers comes a slate of new characters, bringing new life and youthful optimism to the somewhat jaded returning characters. As mentioned, Isa Briones plays Dahj, “a really cool young woman who is wonderfully empathetic and caring for other people. She’s starting a new chapter in her life and everything is going great for her, until a tragic incident occurs. And suddenly, she has no idea who she can trust or even if she can trust herself.”

Fans will also meet Elnor, “a young Romulan boy who’s an expert in hand to hand combat,” says Evan Evagora. “He’s pretty good with the sword as well, and he was raised in an all-female sect of warrior nuns.” Harry Treadaway plays another Romulan, though one “from a very, very wealthy family, who is now living on the Borg cube and conducting research there. All is not what it seems,” Treadaway warns, cautious not to let slip too much. Though Star Trek has in the past been accused of embracing a monoculture approach to different species, this is far from the case with these two very different Romulans. “I think trying to apply normality and reality to a show which is intergalactic and bends time and space is a really important thing to do,” Treadaway muses. “Otherwise you lose all anchors. And so everyone’s character, no matter which species they come from, their lives are their own.”

Rounding off the cast of newcomers is Michelle Hurd, who plays Raffi. “She’s a security analyst and a hacking genius. She has a very complicated relationship with the Federation and she worked with Picard back in the day, after Next Gen, and they had a bit of a falling out. She’s haunted by decisions that she’s made in the past and has crutches and vices that she leans on to get through the day.”

Picard’s cast was not short on praise for leading man Patrick Stewart, expressing that although joining such an influential franchise was intimidating, Stewart had made them all feel instantly welcome. Del Arco recalls that Stewart and Whoopi Goldberg (who has been invited to return to her role in Season 2) were “like Mum and Dad on the set of Next Gen. They could not have been lovelier, kinder, more gracious or more supportive. Patrick is still that to the cast today. We’re very, very lucky.”

“I would say that when you’re on any kind of production,” says Hurd, “number one basically sets the tone for the entire set. And that man, Patrick Stewart, is just like Picard when he walks on set. He is our leader, and he is a fearless leader. He’s a brave leader. He’s a kind leader. He’s a generous one. He is obsessed and focused on ensemble, he’s playful and self-deprecating, and cheeky and sassy. And sexy, I’m just gonna say it,” she laughs.

If Jean-Luc Picard is still sexy, surely Star Trek: Picard cannot be a complete tonal break from what came before? Some fans have expressed concern that Picard, in reflecting the current socio-political context, will succumb to cynicism and abandon the optimism that defined earlier series. Jeri Ryan reassures that “Star Trek has always reflected the society of its time. This series is continuing in a fine tradition.” Evagora echoes this, stating that “it’s always been Gene Roddenberry’s vision to hold a mirror up to our society through every iteration of Star Trek. That’s what it’s always been, and we just continue that legacy.”

“We can’t help but be influenced by what’s happening in our present day, from paintings to dance, to music and acting,” Hurd explains. “So we are absolutely tackling the discord and divisiveness, and the discomfort that we all feel in our respective countries right now. It’s incredible that it’s ever-present, that it’s happening to all of us. What I love about our writers is that we’re not preaching it; it’s not like sitting down and getting a lesson, but you absolutely are going to see a mirror being held up. And what’s great about our story is that we’re seeking a solution. We’re trying to inject hope, optimism, and emphasising the sanctity, the vulnerability and the preciousness of life and love, and humanity.”

At the end of the day, all anyone appears to want is to preserve Star Trek’s legacy. As co-creator and executive producer Alex Kurtzman puts it, “What I learned from making the first film (Star Trek, 2009) is that the voices of the fans are essential to being a writer on Star Trek, and that processing and metabolising the information that they’re giving us is critical. It’s often uncomfortable, but I think the price of that is worth it. At the end of the day, the fans have kept this show alive for fifty-four years. It doesn’t really belong to anyone except for the fans – and Gene Roddenberry.

“And of course, it’s hard sometimes. But I also think that in equal measure, there’s so much love for it and so much joy and so much ‘thank you for doing this’. I will get letters from people, or people come up to me and they will say ‘Star Trek literally saved my life. This thing that you did saved my life. I was alone. I didn’t have anybody, and I happened to turn on the TV on the one night that I was thinking of killing myself. And it saved my life.’ And when you know that that’s also happening, that any flack you get is really irrelevant because the legacy of the show goes so far beyond me! I’m just a piece of it along the way. This show not only changed people’s lives for the better, but it’s changed history itself. I’ve met astronauts who became astronauts because they love Star Trek, and artists and scientists and writers. This is so much bigger than any one of us. It’s so much bigger. I think we all feel that our job is to protect it to the best of our ability.”

STAR TREK: PICARD airs from January 23rd in the UK on Amazon Prime Video, and CBS All Access in the States. For our review of episodes 1 – 3, read HERE.

As one of the UK’s foremost writers and authorities on magic and the occult, Nathaniel J. Harris’s life has run the gauntlet of the ‘80s Goth explosion, goblins, creepy clowns, vengeful poltergeists and dodgy hippy festivals – an extraordinary existence that led to him being mythologised in the pages of 2000 AD comic. As he publishes Accidental Antichrist, the first volume of his controversial autobiography, we dabbed ourselves in holy water, entered his chamber and dared ask him a few prudent questions…

STARBURST: Why have you decided to tell your own story now?

Nathaniel Harris: I wrote Accidental Antichrist to reclaim my past after losing my family to an abusive mind control cult. As the process continued, it grew to become a book. Like its author, it was conceived by accident and acquired purpose as it went along. Plus, I heard it is almost impossible not to love someone if you know their life story, so it seemed like a good tactic.

Why is it subtitled ‘A Survivor’s Grimoire’?

I think the grimoire is an under explored literary art. If you make a study of the classics, like The Testament of Solomon, or The Black Raven, they read as much like dramatic novels as books of rituals. I’ve written a few theoretical and instructional works, but they’re kind of abstract if taken out of context. For myself, magic was something I grew up with, coming from an old Essex witchcraft family and living in a place so rich in history and folklore. It wasn’t a game, or something to be disrespected. If you wanted to learn the practice, and you didn’t come from a hereditary lineage, you’d have to join a coven or an order. There weren’t all the occult bookshops, workshops, and online courses there are today, and it wasn’t something the middle classes took up as an interesting hobby. It was also my survival strategy. Many of those who come to me are also survivors, and we work together to reclaim identity and a sense of agency. The best healers often have to heal themselves first.

How did you come to know the writer Pat Mills and end up as a character in 2000 AD comic?

I met Pat’s daughters in the street and they took me and my gang of teen punk friends round to meet him. This was in 1986. You can find us in Book Four of Nemesis – brothers Nathaniel, Ivan, Owain, and John, the renegade terminators. Pat was also in the early stages of creating Slaine, whose appearance was inspired by our spiked hair and tartan trousers. Our friendship has continued since then.

How has science fiction and fantasy influenced your writing?

Science fiction and fantasy deal with archetypes, at least when done well, and so does magic. Plus of course magic is allowed in science fiction and fantasy. They provide a space where the possibility can be discussed without anyone having to worry about whether they believe in it. The relationship between them often produces surprising hybrids, too. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu mythos, for example, inspired Kenneth Grant, and many other magicians.

Chaos Magic was massively popularised in 2000 AD comic during the 1980s – 1990s, which I am perhaps partly responsible for. Nemesis the Warlock made many references to it, and it was my idea to put Deadlock in charge of the ABC Warriors. I have appeared in it as a character quite a few times. I stopped buying it for a while, to my shame, and when I found it in my local newsagents, I was amazed to see the archangel Nathaniel, wearing armour stolen from Dr Dee, flying over East Anglia in Defoe, so got back in touch and haven’t missed a Prog since. Alan Moore and Grant Morrison were also writing for 2000 AD in those early days, and both now openly admit to practising magic. Plus, my biological father, who you meet briefly in Accidental Antichrist, was a set designer and special effects man who worked on Superman the Movie [1978], The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy [BBC 1981], and Knightmare [ITV 1987-94].

So, science fiction and fantasy has influenced me a lot, and been a big part of my life. My book The Neuronomicon deals with neuromancy, a term borrowed from William Gibson, although my theories draw from neurology, quantum physics, and noetic science, as well as traditional occultism. To some people it probably reads like Gibson’s crossed with Lovecraft, with elements of Wilson and Shea’s Illuminatus!, but while my style may be whimsical, I’m confident it’s a genuine advance in the technology of magic, perhaps the first in 100 years.

Was revisiting your ‘70s and ‘80s childhood for this book, while living in 2019, a Dr Manhattan-like experience?

It definitely gave me a sense of being outside the circles of time. The places I write about are all kind of timeless, too. Rural Essex, the town of Colchester where Old King Cole and Humpty Dumpty come from, and the wilds of the Pyrenees mountains, these are places where past and present are simultaneously present, and I was writing in the present about my past. And, of course, it made a kind of psychic call to the people I had grown up with, many of whom I’d lost contact with over the years. It was amazing how many of them came back into my life. Getting involved with international occult conspiracies, alleged Illuminati orders, coven networks, and the voodoo underground, it can uproot your sense of self. But that’s all for the follow up books, some of it I’ve written about already although not so descriptively.

You’ve had more than your fair share of run-ins this with black magic cults, what have they got against you?

I used to run a London-based temple of the Illuminates of Thanateros. I resigned in 2001 because I found Chaos Magic to be a cul-de-sac, which embarrassed them, considering my previous status. They’ve spread the worst kind of libel and tried to write me out of their history, but it hasn’t worked. Chaos Magic’s nihilistic ultra-relativist pseudo-philosophy seemed cutting edge in the ‘80s, but in my honest opinion, it was all over long before it got popular with nerds, and long before the IOT’s leadership brought it to such shame. If one wishes to become one thousand, one merely has to attract enough zeroes.

After resigning, I wrote Witcha: A Book of Cunning, which I self-published in a hand-bound leather volume. This was before the craze for luxury occult books. And just before Owen Davies’s Cunning Folk came out, the first academic study of the Britain’s genuine magical tradition. This got me into a squabble with Andrew Chumbley, who was trying to pass himself off as the Magus of East Anglia. There were all kinds of rumours when he tragically died, which didn’t help my reputation. I like to think that if he had lived, we would have gotten over our differences.

Shortly after I published the first edition of Witcha, Kenneth Grant encouraged a Pythoness of his Typhonian Order into attempting to seduce me to join. She was an author, and wrote an erotic novel with a character in it she said was based on me, and who ends up being horribly killed. I also have a flattering deconstruction of my name by gematria included in a letter Grant sent to her, which she cheekily photocopied for me. It didn’t work, as I found the whole situation manipulative and sleazy. I mean, why not just write to me with an invitation?

Then there are the Satanists, with their big campaign to point the finger at anyone but themselves, so they don’t like that I wrote about ritual abuse in The Neuronomicon. We’ve had a serious problem right here in this city where I live. That’s not to say all Satanists are involved in brainwashing child sex slaves, but the case has similarities with others here and abroad that to my mind don’t seem to have been investigated properly. I’m not up for defending anyone’s image if it means covering up that kind of thing. And despite the protestations, it is well known that Jimmy Savile thought he was some kind of Satanist. It might sound like conspiracy theory, but it was right there in the paper and there is nothing the Temple of Satan can do to make this publicly available evidence go away. It doesn’t make me popular when I point these things out. If I was the Devil, I’d be embarrassed by these people and would refuse to turn up to their rituals, so it’s no wonder they’re atheists.

So most practitioners of ‘real’ magic are just charlatans of one kind or another?

These days, most of what masquerades as magic, with or without a ‘k’, is just sleazy sex cults, or an excuse to abuse drugs and make believe you’re some kind of shaman, or both. The same goes with witchcraft. The popular ‘occult scene’ here in the UK is riddled with dangerous charlatans and worse. As far as I can tell it’s the same in America. It’s only those in denial of such uncomfortable truths that have any problem with me, plus the guilty few. Dupes, basically, like back when the Catholic Church could still deny its shameful side. Plus, there is money to be made. Call me arrogant, narcissistic, whatever, but that’s been my experience. The sheep may be black but they bleat all the same.

So, I have a long history in magic, and have rubbed a lot of people up the wrong way, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s been for all the right reasons, even if my books are no longer in the major outlets. So thanks for asking. It’s good to get all that off my chest.

Death stalks your story, with many participants dying or disappearing in mysterious circumstances. Would you consider yourself dangerous to know?

I hope not. I’d like to think I’m safe to know, and that I help to keep others safe. But not everyone I knew survived to the end of the book, not everyone I write about survived to see the 21st century, and one dear friend in the book read the manuscript but died before it was published. Life can be cruel, and death can be arbitrary…

Some readers may scoff at your tales of magical happenings. Others will read about your vengeful curses on people and fancy themselves to do likewise…

Yes, there is a lot of magical cursing in Accidental Antichrist. There were a lot of bullies in my childhood and curses were my way of dealing with them. I’m open-minded in my account, rather than making any definite claims, though. I was just a kid, and it was perhaps an immature reaction to my situation. And if any kind of magic might backfire, curses are it. I don’t recommend anybody starts there. Moving forward with your life and doing well despite what others might wish on you, that’s the best revenge, if revenge is needed. Why can’t we all just get along? Which isn’t to say that justice against transgressions should ever be denied or avoided. Justice means preventing further transgressions, not satisfying our bruised ego by committing further transgressions. More recently, I’ve been accused of cursing reviewers who don’t give me five stars, but none of that is true. Promise.

A key figure throughout your early years was your violently abusive stepfather. How does any kid cope with that?

I had to. Psychologists might conclude my tough childhood explains my involvement in sorcery, assuming it is an overcompensation. Perhaps it was at the start, but as a survival strategy, it worked. I can’t pretend I wasn’t damaged, though, even if many people refused to believe my stepfather was anything but an easy-going hippy. Abuse during formative years hampers a person’s whole life, but there are plenty of kids who have to survive much worse.

You quote Alan Garner who said “if you think where you live isn’t interesting enough to write a book about, take another look”. You have certainly taken another look at Colchester.

Every place has a history, and every person a story. It is often more about how the story is told than how important or famous a person or place is. Bukowski wrote a novel about being sacked from the post-office, a fairly normal story but told with style. With Garner, it was the way he explored the folkloric, magical elements of place that enchanted me as a child, and I hope I have managed something similar with Colchester. Garner and Bukowski were masters, I’m not comparing my style or skill to theirs but they are an inspiration. Colchester, the folklore of witchcraft and Black Shuck, the weirdness that went on, and the people who lived there in the time I write about, all deserve to be remembered and celebrated.

What’s up next for you?

I’m currently teaching a course in sorcery, 21st Century Urban Voodoo. I’m also working on a treatise of the Yi-King, relating it to Obi and Ifa, all at least 5,000-year-old binary codes, which I hope to have ready some time in 2020. It’s a follow on from the Neuronomicon, essentially, but will also stand alone as a device of divination, capable of answering almost any question, like some kind of extradimensional Artificial Intelligence.

At the same time, I’m working on Book Two of Accidental Antichrist, but I’m taking that slowly. I have to wait for certain people to be prosecuted or to die, whichever happens first, before I can tell the whole story…

Accidental Antichrist: A Survivor’s Grimoire is out now