bungakertas | An Exercise In Futility: Chapter Three

Everyone on the bridge of Voyager hung on every word of “Major Samantha Carter,” who told them that the satellite was apparently built by the Ancients, the race of people who built the stargates, and that the planet they were currently orbiting might have an Ancient outpost, if they were fortunate enough to detect it. Since none of them had any idea what the stargates were or why the race that built them would be important, this explanation was far more confusing than it was helpful, but it was nevertheless very interesting.

Out of curiosity, Chakotay punched up the information on the universal translator, to see if the language that was actually being spoken to them was one they had heard of. He discovered, to his shock, that Major Carter didn’t just sound like she was speaking English, she actually was.

He referred this information to Janeway without speaking, who blinked in surprise when she read it. For all the claims about “United States Air Force” and “Earth,” he hadn’t been able to bring himself to believe it until just now.

When the Major finished speaking, Janeway said, “Thank you, Major. I’d like a moment to confer with my officers, Colonel Pendergast. We will contact you again in a few moments.”

“Acknowledged. Prometheus out,” the colonel said. He sounded a bit grateful for the opportunity to do the same thing.

Harry killed the transmission and Janeway stood up. “All right, apparently those claims of being from Earth were not entirely fictional. Commander Chakotay observed, the universal translator was not in use during that transmission. Our friends really do speak English. They may actually be members of the United States Air Force. Unfortunately, that would mean…” Janeway trailed off unhappily.

“We may have traveled through time,” Tuvok said dispassionately.

Perhaps it was just Chakotay’s human emotionalism, but he had a feeling that Tuvok was actually a little depressed at stating that, however dispassionate he sounded.

“But then how did they build that ship?” Paris asked in wonderment, looking out of the viewscreen at their new companions. “Look at it. It’s only a little smaller than Voyager.”

“Under manned, though,” Harry observed from his station. “The sensors show only fifty-one life-signs on board. All human with four exceptions, and three of those are…odd.”

“Odd, how?” Tuvok asked, managing to sound irritated and displeased without sounding emotional at all.

“They’re layered right on top of three human life-signs. It’s a bit like the readings you would get from a pregnant woman. Or maybe a joined trill, since there are two different species represented there,” Harry said.

“Whoever they are, I don’t think they’re of the shoot first and ask questions later variety,” Chakotay put in. “They had that…Doctor Jackson with them. He didn’t give a rank. He might not be military at all.”

“Their weapons are projectile based, rather than plasma, as Voyager uses,” Seven observed. “I find it unusual that a society capable of building that ship has not developed energy weapons.”

“Their weapons being projectiles did not diminish their effectiveness,” Tuvok replied mildly. “We should not underestimate their capabilities.”

Seven raised a brow and appeared to be mulling that over.

Chakotay felt it was time to interject. “While I’m very interested in who they are, I think we need to focus more on finding out where we are, and where that Borg ship has gotten off to. Wherever they went, they won’t stay quiet for long. And if our navigational computer is correct, then we’re just outside of charted space in…what?…the far side of the Gamma Quadrant, now.”

“Then this area of space should be under Dominion control,” Tuvok observed, “even if we have traveled back in time by several hundred years.”

Chakotay exchanged a puzzled glance with Janeway. As one, the two of them turned their attention to Seven and Harry.

Harry shook his head. “Sensors show no activity of any kind suggesting Dominion control of this area.” Seven nodded in agreement.

There was a deep silence as everyone digested this.

“Okay,” said Paris, stating what they were all thinking, “now I’m really confused.”

“Indeed. Most puzzling,” Tuvok said.

“Prometheus is moving towards the planet,” Harry reported.

Chakotay watched as Janeway appeared to think a few things over and finally said, “Hail them, Mister Kim.”

“Hailing frequencies open, Captain,” Harry replied.

“Prometheus, this is Janeway. I’d like some our crews to meet in person, if that’s all right. Can you suggest a good place to do so?” she asked.

“We’re going to attempt to effect repairs to the dialing device in order to contact our world. You’re welcome to meet with us there,” Colonel Pendergast replied.

Harry looked up. “They just cut the…oh. Data coming in, Captain. It’s a location on the planet. They’ve given us a rendezvous location.”

Janeway nodded. “All right. Chakotay, I want you to take the landing party down. Find out what these people are like, and if we can trust them. You were right that the Borg won’t stay quiet for long, and if they are going to start trouble, we may need some help putting a stop to it. Take whoever you need.”

Chakotay nodded. “Tuvok, Seven, Paris, you’re with me. Assemble in transporter room two in five minutes.”

Starfleet had protocols for everything, which the Maquis rebel in Chakotay still occasionally wanted to argue with, but in this case, it was hard to argue with not needing to wonder what to bring to this meeting. For potential First Contact situations, a tricorder. A phaser, for an unknown alien world. For repair and diagnostics on an unknown device, a general-purpose repair kit. Predictable and dull it might be, but it was also useful. After collecting his things, he strode to the transporter room, where the rest of the away team awaited.

The transporter officer touched a key, there was a moment where his senses all completely fled—something he’d never entirely stopped disliking a bit—and then they had materialized on the planet below in a large field.

The air smelled fresh and clean, and what looked like a cross between a lizard and a butterfly was flitting here and there, eating the petals off of wildflowers. Prometheus rested a short distance away with some of her crew milling around. Nearer to them was an enormous metal ring set up on a platform, with steps leading down to a small podium, covered in buttons. Away in the distance was a green forest. Chakotay was reminded of some of the pictures of Earth he'd seen.

Four people in military uniforms were striding across the clearing, two of them carrying a plastic trunk, accompanied by one older man in a brown tunic.

“Look,” one of the men carrying the trunk said, “this is heavy. Daniel, go do your archaeology thing for our new friends there.”

One of the men in the military uniforms, who was wearing a bandana on his head, adopted a pained expression. Chakotay then noticed the glasses and the lack of rank insignia on his uniform.

“Doctor Daniel Jackson?” he guessed, as the away team neared the small squad.

“Yes,” the man said, stepping up so that they were properly conversing, rather than standing at a distance to one another. “The rude man carrying the trunk is Colonel Jack O’Neill, and his partner, who is not rude, is Teal’c.”

Chakotay took in the “rude” Colonel O’Neill and Teal’c, a tall, dark-skinned man with a golden tattoo on his forehead.

“Major Samantha Carter is there,” Jackson continued, pointing out a blond woman. “The four of us are called SG-1, we’re a team from Earth.” He indicated the man in the brown tunic. “And this is Jacob Carter, Sam’s dad, who…consults with us from time to time.”

Chakotay noted the pause with a little amusment. Clearly they weren’t being told something. Good enough. Chakotay had no intention of telling them everything, either. “I’m Commander Chakotay, First Officer on Voyager. This is Lieutenant-Commander Tuvok, Ensign Tom Paris, and Seven of Nine.”

Jackson’s eyes flew up at that. “I’m sorry. Seven of Nine?”

“I am a former Borg drone. Seven of Nine was my designation,” she responded flatly.

Jackson blinked. “That’s very interesting. It must be unusual being on a ship that is fighting the Borg now.”

“It is…a new experience,” she answered.

Chakotay wasn’t quite sure what to make of this unexpectedly benign reaction from Dr. Jackson, especially given that Prometheus had been recently attacked by a Borg ship.

“You are not made uneasy by my presence?” Seven asked, apparently noticing the same thing.

Jackson smiled. Then he looked thoughtful. “Let’s just say, you aren’t the first person I’ve met who left their people for something else.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what are your plans at the moment?” Chakotay said.

“Sam’s going to try and get the stargate working so that we can give our report to Stargate Command. Then, depending on what the SGC has to say about things, we’ll probably try and track down that ship and see what they’re after,” Jackson said. “But, at the moment, we were thinking of having lunch, if you’d care to join us.” He made a face. “It’s not exactly the height of Earth cuisine, but it’s what we’ve got, so…”

“That will be fine,” Chakotay said.

They followed Doctor Jackson across the meadow, all walking with the half-stomp of someone treading through grass half-way up to their knees. As they went, Tuvok said, “It would seem, Commander, that they are from a pre-warp civilization. Any further interaction with them would be a violation of the Prime Directive.”

“That isn’t a very logical conclusion,” Paris said. “There’s no way that ship was built by a pre-warp anything.”

“You failed to note the communication devices on their jackets: old style military radios. And the weapons they carry are those of the designation ‘P-90,’ used by the United States military over three centuries ago, although their side-arms are of unknown origin. I think we must conclude that we are dealing with a small group of persons who possess advanced technology, but are from a world that—in general—does not.”

“If that is the case, are we breaking the prime directive to interact with these people specifically? They obviously do possess advanced technology,” Paris said.

“Yes,” Chakotay replied sharply, not entirely willing to believe he had just heard what he did. “This isn’t an issue we can compromise on. We do not have the right to interfere with the natural development of another world. Even if we don’t directly impact the lives of anyone who does not have access to this advanced technology, their lives will impact those people. We can not undertake these actions in a vacuum, Ensign.”

To his credit, Paris looked a little repentant.

“Then I believe the wisest course of action would be to remain only as long as is polite and then excuse ourselves on the grounds of needing to report back to Captain Janeway,” Tuvok suggested.

Chakotay nodded. “Learn what you can, and then we’ll return.”

It was actually Paris, possibly in an effort to recover lost territory, who enabled them to learn the most. When presented with packages labeled “MRE,” Paris managed to convince the crew of Prometheus that their tricorders would take several minutes to thoroughly scan the contents, and had casually turned his on and was pointing it at virtually everything in sight while he said it.

Chakotay quickly followed suit. While the contents of some of the MRE alarmed him, he discovered that the toxic elements were used to heat the food quickly and not meant to be eaten. He also discovered that there was a metal that seemed to be rather prevalent around these people, and which seemed to feature heavily in the construction of that ring-and-button-podium assembly.

The conversation over lunch was also illuminating. Apparently Doctor Jackson was not a member of the military, and was a human scientist of some sort. Cultural anthropology, or something of that nature. But, unusually, given Chakotay’s studies of soldiers of this era, the military personnel appeared to respect him and think his opinions were valuable.

On the other hand, there were two other people, a man and a woman, who wore similarly drab clothing to Jacob Carter’s that sat quietly during the meal. The tricorders revealed them to be two of the “double life-signs” Harry had mentioned. Beyond that, however, their names were not given, and they never spoke except in voices that did not carry to any of Voyager’s crew.

They were about to take their leave and beam up to the ship, when an odd sort of whine sounded from the other side of the clearing.

Chakotay turned just in time to see several gallons of water all pouring out of that enormous metal ring on the dais. But rather than soaking Major Carter and her father, who were working with the platform there, it then seemed to be sucked back into the ring. And then it settled into a flat, vertical—unbelievably, impossibly, but undeniably vertical—surface of water standing within the ring, giving off its own glow.

“Whoa,” Paris mused quietly.

“You haven’t seen a stargate in action before?” Jackson asked.

“We have not,” Tuvok said quietly.

“Huh.”

“Why is this surprising?” Seven asked.

“With a ship like yours I figured you would have worked out the gate system a while back,” Jackson said.

Chakotay frowned thoughtfully, not sure what to say to that.

Colonel O’Neill was over at the device, speaking into his radio.

Jackson turned to Tuvok and said, “Forgive me if this is a rude question, but…you aren’t human, are you?”

“I am Vulcan,” Tuvok replied. “And no offense is taken.”

“Then, if it’s all right, where is your homeworld?” Jackson asked.

Tuvok glanced to Chakotay. After thinking it over, Chakotay nodded.

“Vulcan is a planet that orbits the star you know as 40 Eridani A,” Tuvok answered Jackson.

To Chakotay’s bewilderment, Jackson looked surprised at this answer and said, “That’s very interesting. I’ve never been to that world. What is it like?”

“It is very dry, and largely desert, with a few exceptions. If I may ask, to how many worlds have you traveled?” Tuvok replied. Not subtle, perhaps, but it did redirect the conversation.

Jackson frowned and thought this over. “A…lot. More than fifty,” he finally said. It didn't sound like a dodge. Instead, Chakotay suspected, Jackson had been to a good deal more than fifty worlds but he had simply never bothered to keep count.

Tuvok’s eyebrows went up. “Then you are familiar with the function of this…star gate?”

Jackson looked amused. “Only in general terms. The specifics are Sam’s department.”

“My ears are burning,” said Major Carter as she joined them. She sat down and took one of the MREs. “Aside from me, what are we talking about?”

“I found out what the Ancient satellite does,” Jackson said.

Chakotay had a sinking feeling. The sort that you get when you see a chain of events that will shortly lead to a shuttle crash and realize that there is nothing that you can do to change it. Whatever Jackson was about to say, he couldn’t stop it. But somehow, he felt it would be better if he could. He opened his mouth, but Carter didn’t notice.

“What?” she asked, obviously very interested.

“I think it’s like the Quantum Mirror, only more specific,” Jackson replied.

Carter dropped her MRE. Chakotay looked at Jackson, trying to ask him silently not to say anything else.

“How could you possibly know that?” she asked, sounding shocked.

“Because my friend, Mister Tuvok here,” Jackson said, and Chakotay realized that the questions to Tuvok had not been idle curiosity. Somewhere along the line, between the ridiculous field rations and the mild-mannered bandana-wearing, he had seriously underestimated Jackson’s intelligence.

“Mister Tuvok here,” Jackson was blithely continuing, “claims to come from a planet in orbit around 40 Eridani A. And I believe he’s telling the truth, since he had to ask permission to say so.”

“But, Daniel,” Carter protested, “there is no inhabited planetary system around 40 Eridani A. There’s no planetary system there at all. That system is close to Earth. We would know if there were people there.”

“I know,” he answered.

Chakotay looked at Tuvok in dismay. So much for the Prime Directive, he mentally sighed. Tuvok looked as emotionless as ever, but Chakotay noticed his fingertips were growing slightly pale as he pressed them together. It was the only sign the cool Vulcan ever gave to his mental state.

Carter was staring at them in cheerful fascination. “Is that how you got here? Another one of those satellite things? Or did we activate it somehow and get you by mistake?” She sounded less happy at this second option.

“I don’t think it would’ve been built like that,” Jackson said slowly. “Look. We know the Ancients were explorers, like us. We know they created the Quantum Mirror. Who’s to say that they didn’t eventually refine the process of traveling to other realities to the point of being able to build this satellite?”

Chakotay did some thinking and finally came to a decision. “There was another satellite on our end.”

Jackson and Carter looked up. He smiled at their hungry expressions. Scientists were the same all over, it seemed.

“Is this wise, Commander?” Tuvok asked quietly.

“Probably not,” Chakotay sighed. “We were studying it because it gave off an energy output similar to Borg technology. The Borg ship arrived and powered weapons.”

“The device does scan for a particular energy signal,” Carter said. “Perhaps the combination of Borg weaponry with some other energy in the area…” She trailed off, looking very thoughtful. “I have to go report this.” She got up and headed for the stargate.

“And…we have to get you back,” Jackson said, looking at Chakotay.

Chakotay blinked.

“I’m sorry, it’s not that you don’t seem like nice people, but staying too long in the wrong reality can be dangerous. And I’m sure you all want to get home eventually,” Jackson added in a rush.

Chakotay exchanged a glance with Paris and Tuvok.

“That would be nice at some point,” Paris finally said.

*~*~*

Author's Notes: Chakotay’s little rant about the importance of honoring the Prime Directive, while it is espousing a view I think is absolute bunk, is commensurate with the way I believe a society that held that sort of a view would think of things.

[Rant incoming. Brace yourselves.]

The Federation’s belief is that each society has an innate right to develop in their own way without interference, and that interference by the Federation in such development constitutes a violation of that right. While it is, of course, a noble goal to try and self-police tendencies toward colonialism, this view is seriously problematic on several levels, the most important (in a logical sense) being that it self-destructs. Any interaction of one culture with another is going to affect both cultures in some way or other, thus making the Federation itself a violation of the Prime Directive.

However, I think the UFP would see things this way: as an innate right. A fundamental right of a culture and people. Thus, Tom’s suggestion that the Voyager crew hang out with the SG crew, Prime Directive or not, is not simply a desire to get around an annoying rule, but is—in the eyes of the other Starfleet people—a cavalier attitude toward the basic rights of a people group weaker than himself. Thus the sharp retort, and the abashed result.