I began my acknowledgments in the first book of this trilogy with my editor, Marco Palmieri, and I have every reason to do so again here. For one thing, without Marco, Crucible would not have seen the light of day. Not only did he envision these books as a means of helping to celebrate the fortieth anniversary of Star Trek, but he gamely shepherded them through to publication. I always enjoy working with Marco because of the professionalism, skill, and creativity he constantly brings to his craft.
I would also like to thank Keith R.A. DeCandido for his timely and good-natured assistance. In this case, I wanted some details about the president of the Federation, and knowing that Keith had penned a deeply political Trek novel, Articles of the Federation, I suspected that he would be a good source for that information. Good call.
Thanks also to Mark and Bev Gemello, a lovely couple and great friends. Mark and I have shared much over the years, from playing baseball that first year at Tempe Diablo Stadium (and in so many other places thereafter), to the surprise party he threw for me in Sunnyvale, to our long and memorable trip through the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, to his standing beside me at my wedding, to the special trip he and Bev made last year for another very important surprise party. All this time later, if I’m managing a team, I know I can count on having the G-Man playing shortstop and batting third. I also know I can count on him and Bev for so much more than that.
Thanks also to Barb, Matty, and Faith Hahn for their wonderful friendship. They are an oasis in the desert, and I am so happy and privileged to have them in my life. Barb and Matty sang—beautifully!—at my wedding, and that’s only where the talent in their family begins. Pay attention to the name Faith Hahn because you’re going to hear it a lot in the coming years; she’s going to be a star.
Of course, I can never think about acknowledging the people who help me without including Anita Smith, Jennifer George, and Patricia Walenista. They are all unique and magnificent women, and I count on them often and for many things. They could not be more loving and supportive, and my life is vastly better for having them in it.
Finally, there is Karen Ann Ragan-George. There are never enough words to adequately describe all that Karen means to me and all that she is, but I keep trying. Two of the words that work for me are those of her name. Karen descends from Greek and traditionally means “pure,” and Ann arises from Hebrew with the meaning “grace.” So Karen Ann is pure grace, a fine and apt description of a pure and graceful woman. (Incidentally, I believe Ragan-George is an old Deltan name that means “my sweet, sweet baby.”)