Jeffrey Rewrites Voyager: The Cloud

Normally I am all in favor of character development episodes. I think there needs to be more character development in most television series, especially action and/or sci-fi series. So by all rights I should love this episode, which has the flimsiest of plots stringing together a series of vignettes that develop the character of the main cast.

The problem is, this needs to be good character development. And oh boy, is it not.

So as Voyager plunges headlong into the "It's actually a life-form!" plot that should be enjoyable, but somehow isn't, let's try to rewrite these terrible characters into something better.

Especially Chakotay. For Gene's sake, writers, what were you thinking?

As always this rewrite will be thematic, rather than chronological, so if you don't remember the plot you can review it over at the Memory Alpha Wiki.

Pictured: A typical Trek episode.

Almost everyone gets some character development in this story, which I criticized in my rewrite of Time and Again. In that episode, however, the time spent on character development was competing with the plot. That is not a problem here. Indeed, the plot is so straightforward it is pretty forgettable. Which is actually a problem. I know Trek likes its technobabble, but that's all this plot is.

Step 1: Technobabble your way into the nebula.
Step 2: Suffer a technobabble problem.
Step 3: Technobabble your way out of the nebula.
Step 4: Oh noes! It's a life form and we hurt it!
Step 5: Technobabble your way into the nebula.
Step 6: Suffer an even larger technobabble problem.
Step 7: Technobabble your way into healing the nebula alien.
Step 8: Technobabble your way out of the nebula.

The only thing I care about is Step 4. And that is no good. Let's fix that.

That barrier looks remarkably opaque. Wouldn't they have
detected it before-hand?

They go into the nebula and blast their way out, just as happens in the episode. Then we get the character bits, and they discover the nebula is a life form.

Now we get an explanation. A real explanation. There are two phenomena that caused difficulty in their first trip: Some kind of cosmic dust, and things that attached to the hull and drained their energy. Let's make this even more of a Fantastic Voyage sort of show, and give them names. The dust is like a blood clot, trying to plug the wound and allow the nebula to regenerate itself. The globules in the nebula are, of course, like white blood cells, protecting the nebula from foreign intruders. This allows an explanation that makes more sense to the audience.

In the trip back in they run into a new sort of "white blood cell", and it is this cell that causes the energy discharges that begin to assault the ship. This leaves them helpless as the globules build up around them, and draw them deeper into the nebula. They fire the probe to convince the globules to chase something else, which gives them some mobility, but any energy output will bring the cells back.

That is when they find the "circulatory system", like in the episode. They can use it to drift back to the wound. They can output the same frequency of energy from Voyager to mask their presence, making the antibodies treat them like they belong there, but it will drain Voyager's energy reserves.

Why yes, I intend to keep making Stone Mountain Laser
Show jokes where appropriate. Deal with it, Non-Georgians.

Then they get to the wound, and use the suture method the Doctor suggests. They escape, but the energy expenditure has almost crippled the ship. Then the nebula outgasses the energy particles they were looking for toward them, allowing them to scoop them up and replenish reserves... almost. They still lost energy through the exchange, but no longer at such crippling levels. And the crew of the Voyager are left to wonder, was it just a natural outgassing? Or is the nebula creature intelligent enough to know that Voyager risked itself to help it?

That makes the plot far more satisfying. It takes a little more time, but we can make that up by trimming, not cutting, but trimming a few bits of character development here and there.

Also, as an aside, during the plot it is mentioned that Voyager only has 39 photon torpedos, which cannot be replaced. To my knowledge, they never bother replacing them throughout the show, but they never run out either. Bad continuity department! Bad! Instead, talk about them being "difficult to manufacture here in the Delta Quadrant, assuming we can find the materials," which still makes them a valuable resource, but does not put an absolute limit on them.

Now let's talk about that character development.

As frequently happens, Harry and Tom have my favorite bits. Harry's insightful comments that Janeway must feel isolated as Captain, and his reaching out to her at the end of the episode, is especially good.

The development of the dynamic duo also introduces Chez Sandrine, once again showing off Tom's affection for pre-Federation Earth. That said, there are some parts that don't quite make sense. Why would the 24th century have a pool hall with no modern amenities? It's easily explainable. It's intentionally retro. In Marseilles, France, there is a section of the city that intentionally kept things as it was in the 20th century, the heyday of pre-Federation Earth. That explains Tom's comment about the pickpockets who just do it "for the tourists", and why Chez Sandrine exists.

To be fair, I imagine lots of holodeck programs involve
threesomes. But not public ones, Tom, come on.

However, there seems to be a strong implication that Tom programs all his holodeck characters to be his sexual playthings. I don't mind Tom being somewhat libertine in outlook, I actually rather like it as an edge to his character (and it gives him something to develop towards as he eventually enters a relationship with B'Elanna.) But he seems obsessed with it. Give him his girlfriend that he programs into all his holodeck programs, because that is hilarious and fun. But get rid of the cattiness between her and Madame Sandrine. Instead, she's the sort of gregarious, flirtatious, Bon Vivant owner that fits into the stereotypical representation of a Paris pool hall.

Nor do I mind that Sandrine's is stereotypical. My rewrite has Tom as an idealistic aficionado of pre-Federation Earth, and it makes sense that he would favor a nostalgic, stereotypical pool hall.

As Sandrine flirts with Harry, he seems very uncomfortable, but Paris can dismiss his concerns, pointing out that she's only a hologram. This is a great chance for Voyager to make one of those controversial predictions that Gene Roddenberry did so well in the original series and Next Generation. Have Harry admit that he was raised by a very conservative household, that he knows there's nothing wrong with romancing a hologram, but that it just makes him uncomfortable.

How is it that 90s Trek got less daring and uninhibited?

That's right. Casual sex between people and holograms is fine in the 24th century, because holograms aren't sentient, so as long as it's in the privacy of a holodeck no one has a problem with it. They've hinted at such things before on Star Trek, but they've never stated it explicitly, and indeed this episode suggests that it is Tom who is the odd one for creating holographic fantasies for himself. Which might be in line with 1990s (and even modern-day) morality, but it lacks that futuristic looking-forward that Star Trek does so well.

Remember when The Next Generation suggested that eating real meat in an age of replicators was unethical and simply not done? They later retconned that, but it was still a daring statement. Star Trek needs more daring statements, even if they are controversial. Especially if they are controversial.

On to Neelix and Kes. Their best scene starts out with Neelix saying something that anyone who watched Voyager would be screaming by the end of the show.

I wiggle my silly floppy chef's hat in disgust!

"I'm smart enough to go around nebulas when I encounter them!"

Nebulas are always bad. There is never a time in Voyager history where they enter a nebula and it turns out well. They're all death traps, or time-space distortions, or giant living alien monsters who try to digest them.

Neelix and Kes are good throughout this episode. Neelix begins by trying to convince a very grumpy Janeway to adopt Delta Quadrant alternatives to her usual staples like coffee. He's a pragmatist, and it shows in this episode. Why risk the ship to get more energy for luxuries? Why not just subsist on natural Delta Quadrant foods? They might not be the best, but they'll let the crew survive.

It is Kes who (rightfully) points out that this is not just about luxury, it's about exploration. Her poetic cry to Neelix's more adventurous, romantic side is effective and touching. In my re-write she would also mention that they came along, in part, to help her discover a way to help her people, and that will require exploration, and possibly even danger.

Neelix is swayed for the moment, but when he hears that they are returning to heal the nebula creature he goes to confront Janeway. That scene is terrible, but for reasons I will cover when I talk about Janeway. Neelix himself is fine, his cautious pragmatism and independence flying in the face of Starfleet hierarchy. In my rewrite Janeway is a far more effective speaker, and Neelix leaves realizing he can no longer consider himself an independent operator... but he is still not part of Starfleet.

Talaxians have been known to produce four-course
meals while being assimilated by the Borg in the
middle of a supernova. This is nothing.

This is shown when he appoints himself morale officer at the end of the episode. This is a great development for him, as it gives him a direct reason to be involved with the crew. Janeway's startled look and acquiescence is also good, because it shows her acknowledgment that Starfleet hierarchy would have to be looser in the Delta Quadrant (a lesson I wish she would take to heart).

Tuvok, unfortunately, is reduced to two quips of acerbic Vulcan non-humor. He really needs some love soon.

The Doctor, too, presents a problem. There is no new character development for him, just continued rehashing of him being left out of the loop, and the indignities he suffers by not being turned off. He does have one rather hilarious moment where he suggests that if he were to program himself, he might give himself either a family, or an army. He later does both these things (if you consider holographic daydreams of being in command of Voyager "giving himself an army", which is close enough).

There are some continuity bits which play out later on, like the first reference to his creator, Lewis Zimmerman, the first mention of Jupiter Station, and the reference that Zimmerman looks like the Doctor. But while these plant some seeds, they do not really develop the Doctor's character.

I do like that the Doctor is more involved in the solution to the problem, but he almost seems over-involved. He talks down to B'Elanna, despite the fact that she is a brilliant engineer in her own right. I know they are trying to show him as being acerbic and annoyed at being pushed beyond his standard capabilities, but he just comes across as needlessly mean. He should be used more sparingly in this one. He confirms B'Elanna's suspicions that the nebula is alive, and recommends the process of a suture (and I do love how no one except the Doctor knows what a suture is). Rather than some technobabble about nucleogenic nonsense, instead the suture is more straightforward. Fore and aft tractor beams pulling the wound closed so it can bond with itself and heal. Like an actual suture.

At least give Tom a chance to say, "He was really like
that! I'm just being historically accurate!"

Let B'Elanna come up with the radiation needed to stimulate the wound's regeneration by herself, because she is an engineering genius. Her point that she could reprogram the Doctor is good too. I like her reaction to the sexist pool shark in Chez Sandrine at the end of the show, but if I might suggest my own joke... have her actually open up a panel, fiddle with some buttons, and reprogram the pool shark's personality to be more feminist-friendly. Especially after she asks Tom if he programmed the shark. That would show her barely-disguised contempt for Tom, and show off her engineering prowess all at once.

So that leaves us with the two big problems in this episode: Janeway and Chakotay.

Oh boy. Where do I even begin. I suppose I'll begin with Janeway.

I have no problem with her command decisions in this episode. She's the Captain, when it's crunch time she has to take charge. Nor do I have a problem with her desire to connect to her crew, and the difficulties she suffers. Nor do I have a problem with the basic idea of her latching onto Chakotay's vision quest idea, as this gives her friendship and companionship with Chakotay that she is not experiencing with anyone else.

This found its way to my Facebook News Feed.
I thought it appropriate.

But there are problems too. Like Janeway's drug addiction.

This episode is fueled by Janeway's unnatural need for coffee. She is unimpressed with Neelix's coffee substitute, but Voyager's energy crisis means replicating coffee would be a waste of energy. She goes into the nebula in the first place because "there's coffee in that nebula", or rather the energy the ship needs so she can justify using the replicator on luxuries like coffee.

Now we can be charitable, and surmise that she is thinking that they have a long journey ahead of them, and giving the crew luxuries will be necessary to increase morale. We can also surmise that Voyager's energy problems are just going to get worse, and that it is better to deal with the problem now rather than wait until levels get critical.

But we have to surmise that, because the episode never tells us. Janeway is all "COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE" and any other possible motivations are up to our speculation.

In fact, it looks like Janeway is willing to derail their trip home and thrust the crew into danger just to satisfy her coffee addiction. And that makes her a very bad Captain.

Captain, I think you have a problem.

Luckily, this has an easy fix. When Neelix tells Janeway that she has to set an example for the crew by not drinking coffee, she can say something like: "But it's not just about coffee, don't you see? It's about the little things. The little things we have to give up. It's the little things, the luxuries, that affect morale. I could give up coffee if I really needed to. And each member of this crew could give up their luxuries. But we have a long journey, and I need morale to remain high. I want my crew to have their creature comforts. Just like I want mine. I applaud you for what you're doing in the kitchen, but Delta Quadrant cuisine goes down easier when followed by an ice cream sundae, or an old fashioned bowl of tomato soup, or a cup of coffee. We need to find a source of energy that will let us use our replicators more freely."

That's all it would take, and suddenly she becomes less of a Star Tyrant, and more of someone trying to keep morale up. It also gives Neelix a reason to appoint himself Morale Officer later.

And speaking of Neelix, there is Janeway's speech to him, which is her worst moment in the episode. Neelix is not Starfleet. And he has already gone above and beyond to take care of the crew. So where does Janeway get off treating him like a freeloader and speaking so harshly to him?

Just like Time and Again, Janeway opts to pull rank rather than explain herself, which makes it seem like she has no reason for what she does. Even worse, this time Neelix is not someone in Starfleet's hierarchy, so her pulling rank seems even more tyrannical.

Janeway should actually explain it. She should explain that they went into the nebula because if energy reserves are depleted, then Voyager cannot get back home. She should explain that they have an ethical duty to repair the wound they caused, and try to undo the damage.

This is a joke about moral complexity.
Please don't flame me!

This allows Neelix to point out that, as far as they know, the being is not even sentient, not even intelligent. And Janeway can say that they have no way of knowing that. But even if the creature is not intelligent, it might be able to feel pain. She can talk about dogs, and how they may not be sentient, but they can feel pain, and joy, and love. This would also feed in to her excellent exchange with Tom later on, where they compare the nebula creature to healing a wounded dog without letting it bite.

Since the conversation is no longer adversarial, Neelix can muse, rather than demand, that perhaps it would be better to put he and Kes off the ship. Then Janeway can say that they do not have the crew available to prep his ship for launch, and that if he is to be part of Voyager's crew that means going into danger with Voyager as well. If he decides he cannot do that, she will let he and Kes off after the current crisis is resolved.

That makes Janeway seem like a captain rather than a tyrant.

And then there's Chakotay. Ugh.

Okay, so in this episode Chakotay does Indian stuff because he's an Indian. On the one hand, it's not so bad. This is really the only episode of the first season that messes with that. But really, the one character who still follows an ancient mode of spirituality is the Indian? There's no Christian crewmembers, no Muslim crewmembers, no Buddhists, no Hindus, but the Indian, oh, he's going to go on vision quests and consult with spirit guides and have a medicine bundle and... ugh.

Pictured: The guy from Journey's End. Or possibly
the guy who cries over litter. One of those two.

The Next Generation already did this with "Journey's End". And it was terrible. If you want to make Klingons or Vulcans a stereotypical "Planet Of Hats" type thing, that's fine, because they are not real. But when you do it with an actual culture, with an actual history, and especially when that history tends to be full of overprivileged white guys lying about you to make you seem like stereotypical Noble Savages...

No, Voyager. Just no.

But to make things even worse, this is only the first of several "Hi, I'm Chakotay, and the only interesting thing about me is that I'm a magical Indian" moments throughout the series, and never can the writers seem to keep straight what sort of Indian he is. Because apparently the writers think all Indians are exactly the same.

"Tattoo" eventually places him in the Central American rainforest, which probably means Mayan. Now, I happen to know a bit about the Mayans, learned by researching a role playing game sourcebook I wrote. I'm no expert, but I did some basic research. Mayan sacred bundles are very different from Plains Tribe medicine bundles, they did not use peyote, and their vision quests were more about dream interpretation than finding animal guides.

I'm tempted to justify this as saying that, at the time of writing this episode, the authors clearly had no idea what kind of Indian Chakotay was. But that only makes it worse!

For those of you who do not know much about Indians, this would be akin to having a generic white person who wore a kilt, spoke Spanish, had a traditional family meal of schnitzel, recited the Viking lineage of the dead, and belonged to the Romanian Orthodox Church, who was later revealed to be Irish. Not impossible, perhaps, but definitely deserving of a better explanation than "I'm a White Guy."

Defenestration is such a great word.

In the very first character planning meeting where they said, "Let's make Chakotay an Indian from the Maquis," the next question should have been, "Great, what tribe and tradition?" And then the first guy to say "Does it matter? Indians are all the same," should be defenestrated.

So they end up making him a Mayan. But you know what? The non-drug vision quest inducer is actually pretty cool. So you know what we could do? Add some dialog like this:

"There were many Native American traditionalists that left Earth, seeking a new life on the frontier. Along the way, many of their traditions mingled. The Hopi taught my people about spirit guides, and we in turn taught them much."

"Do you believe in it?" asks Janeway, fascinated.

"I believe there is potential inside the human subconscious. Maybe the ancient gods of my people are speaking to us. Maybe we are just speaking to ourselves. The Sacred Bundle is something carried by my ancestors. It is a series of things that are meaningful to us, and which represent our gods. Here is my sacred bundle. A calendar wheel, carved with the image of Chac, the rain god of my ancestors. A cob of maize. Obsidian crystals for divining. And an akuna."

"Akuna?"

"The ancient Hopi used psychoactive herbs to assist their vision quests. But their scientists found more modern ways to facilitate the search for spirit guides."

Also, a Mayan sacred bundle would be wrapped in cloth, not hide.

Also, they were less about animal guides, and more about general dream interpretation.

Also, Star Trek Voyager actually had a Native American consultant. How the hell did this happen? Oh wait. Apparently according to actual American Indians, Consultant Jamake Highwater was actually Armenian, faked his ancestry for credibility and federal grant money, and had no idea what he was talking about. Well, that makes sense then. I should note that Highwater denied these charges until his death, but based on how crazy Chakotay is...

I also build dreamcatchers, and hunt caribou, and
wear a Mohawk, and sacrifice prisoners to Tezcatlipoca,
and believe we came from underground, and...

My point is, if you are going to make Chakotay a magic Indian, at least make him illustrative of a unique and interesting culture, and not just a collection of stereotypes and cliches that we have already seen in hundreds of bad movies and TV shows.

For that matter, this would be a great opportunity to point out that few people in the Federation actually follow ancient cultural beliefs, but the Cardassian border is filled with people who specifically went to the frontier to preserve such beliefs, so they are common. He can mention a colony of Orthodox Jews, Sunni Muslims, even traditional Catholics if the writers are feeling particularly daring. It would be an interesting expansion to the Star Trek mythos to note that, while such cultural beliefs are increasingly rare on the main worlds of the Federation, some colonies exist specifically to continue them.

But no, the writers decided to go with the Magic Indian thing instead. Ugh.

There is no ominous thunder. In my head, the lizard just says that.