Star Trek: Madagascar

by Galaxy1001D

The Penguins of Madagascar television series and the movies Madagascar and Madagascar 2: Escape to Africa are the properties of Nickelodeon and Dreamworks Animation, Viacom, CBS and a bunch of other guys. Additional material owned by 20th Century Fox. Star Trek is owned by Paramount, who is also owned by CBS. This story has been written for the purpose of entertainment only. No attempt has been made to use this document for profit.

Chapter Four: Four to Beam Down

"Skipper's Log, Stardate 2009.4. The team and I are still on Lemuria, still attempting to open negotiations with the Lemur king, Julian the thirteenth. So far, no dice. Apparently the lower mammal is too ignorant to see the benefits the United Federation of Planets can give to this mudball."

The grizzled sergeant stopped recording and turned to his corporal. "Kowalski, think! There must be some benefit we can bring to this primitive and backwards planet."

"Erm, I'm afraid I can't think of anything, Skipper," Kowalski admitted hesitantly. "I've been conferring with Marlene and so far we can't find anything that we can bring to Lemuria with the exception of contaminating their culture."

"Contaminating their culture?" Skipper repeated in disbelief. "Marlene is this true? This planet can't be that great, can it?"

"I'm afraid it can," the Otter admitted shamefully. "Their world provides for all of their needs. Without scarcity, the Lemurs have successfully eliminated war, greed, famine, disease, social injustice, bigotry, and crime. Socially, this society qualifies on every level for full membership in the Federation. Why else do you think that we are willing to waive the waiting period that everybody has to go through to get in? This time it's the Federation that can benefit from this planet, not the other way around."

"Preposterous!" Skipper scoffed. "I haven't seen any machine more sophisticated than the garbage can around here!"

"That's because they don't need anything more sophisticated than the trash can," Marlene informed him. "They don't really need a trash can either. All of their refuse is biodegradable, and the insects and animal life pretty much take care of that with no fuss."

"But surely without a natural enemy like disease to control their numbers their population would put a strain even on Lemuria's resources," Kowalski offered. "Wouldn't overpopulation bring the Lemurs the same problems that other cultures have had to face?"

"Not this time," Marlene replied. "Without war or violence to put their excess energy to, the Lemurs are huge fans of risk taking. Hang gliding and bungee jumping are two of the most popular sports. Nearly every Lemur of every age does some stupid and suicidal act every day."

"Surely you must be joking," the private gasped in horror. He turned to an underage golden Lemur who was assigned to be their valet while they were visiting. "Mort, if someone told you to jump off the balcony, would you?"

The little Lemur blinked his eyes cheerfully. "Jump off the edge?" he asked in a high squeaky voice. "Okay!" Before the private could stop him he turned and dashed out of the treehouse the Lemurs had provided the Penguins during their stay.

The private waddled after the little Lemur as fast as his feet could carry him. "Wait! Mort! I didn't mean..!"

It was too late. Before young Penguin's horrified eyes, Mort jumped over the rope railing and plunged into the green canopy below. "Yeeeeee….!" The Lemur screamed, but out of fear or excitement was unknown. The private flinched as he heard a sickening impact below, but was relieved to hear Mort's voice call out: "I'm okay…!"

Rico, who was standing with his flippers on the railing, looked down and laughed cruelly.

Back inside, the conversation continued as if the private hadn't asked a Lemur to kill himself.

"This is ridiculous!" Skipper huffed in frustration. "We can at least teach these people not to foolishly risk their lives can't we?"

"I'm afraid not," Marlene shook her head. "Not without violating the Prime Directive."

"The Prime Directive?" Skipper's eyes bulged in confusion. "'Never swim alone'? What does that have to do with anything?"

"No!" Marlene stomped her foot. "That's not the Prime Directive!"

"'Never cover yourself in barbeque sauce when swimming next to a hungry sea lion'?" Kowalski offered.

"Wrong again," Marlene frowned. "For crying out loud, when I joined the Diplomatic Corps, I swore an oath. I'm assuming that you did too. It's the same oath that all branches of the government and Starfleet have to adhere to! Didn't you promise to uphold the Prime Directive too?"

"But of course!" Skipper stood proudly at attention. "Of course I did. We all did. But that was back in boot camp. It's been a while since then."

"Come on!" Marlene's eyes bulged in disbelief. "Don't you have a copy of the Federation Credo displayed in your briefing room?"

"Yes…" Kowalski squinted and looked at the ceiling as he tried to recall it. He had dim memories of a government document tacked to the bulletin board that had photographs of Rico and a smiling blonde female human at the beach pinned over it.

"Okay then what is the Prime Directive?" Marlene put her hands on her hips. "Recite it to me if you know it so well."

"I, Thomas M. Skipper, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United Federation of Planets against all enemies foreign and domestic…" the sergeant recited.

"To explore strange new worlds," Kowalski added.

"…that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same…" Skipper continued.

"To seek out new life and new civilizations…" Kowalski annouced proudly.

"…and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United Federation of Planets and the orders of the officers appointed over me…" Skipper chanted.

"To boldly go where no man has gone before!" Kowalski cheered.

"…according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Starfleet Military Justice. So help me God," Skipper finished. He put the tips of his flippers on his hips and glared at the female Otter. "There. You happy now?"

"Uh no, that wasn't even close to the Federation Credo," Marlene crossed her arms in disgust. "You're not even close. I can't believe you guys forgot the Prime Directive! It's the principle the Federation was founded on!"

"We didn't forget…" Skipper said uneasily as he thought quickly. "We just wanted to see if you know what the Prime Directive is."

"Huh?" Marlene raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You know, to make sure that you really are who you say you are and not the agent of a foreign power trying to sabotage our mission," Skipper smirked in triumph. "If you really belong to the Federation Diplomatic Corps you should be able to recite it from memory."

"Ha-ha," she said flatly. "Nice try, you guys, but it's not gonna work. You jarheads don't even know the basic principles you're supposed to give your lives to defend do you?"

"Yes we do," Skipper insisted. "We're just testing you."

"Then tell me what it is," Marlene retorted.

Kowalski flipped through his notebook while Skipper bought him some time.

"Marlene, every marine has the Prime Directive drilled into him so he never forgets," Skipper announced confidently. "Even the lowliest private could tell you what it is, am I right, Private?"

"What?" the private had just reentered the room and had missed the entire conversation.

"Private, tell this ignorant mammal the definition of the Prime Directive," Skipper ordered.

"But of course, Skippah," the young Penguin seemed nervous to be put on the spot. "Everybody in the service knows. The Prime Directive our most sacred law. It's the noninterference code forbidding us to influence or contaminate a culture that is either not ready for us or doesn't want us to."

"See Marlene, I told you that we knew," Skipper flashed a devil-may-care grin. Then he did a double take. "What? We aren't allowed to affect a foreign culture?"

"No, Skippah, of course not," the private said in a worried voice. "If we did that the entire Federation would fall apart. Our own member worlds wouldn't trust us."

"He's got a point there, Skipper," Kowalski chimed in sadly.

"Every member of the military is expected to lay down their life if doing so will prevent a culture from being affected by our presence," the private explained. "They drilled that into us in boot camp. I thought you knew that, Skippah."

"Uh… yeah!" the sergeant stammered. "Yeah! Of course I knew! Everybody knows that!"

"Oh yes, of course," Kowalski nodded a bit too quickly.

"Uh-huh, right," Marlene muttered sarcastically. "Anywho, as you can see, our hands are tied. The only way we can interfere with this culture is if they ask us to. Otherwise we can't do anything."

"This is getting harder than I thought," Skipper exclaimed.

Meanwhile, hundreds of light-years away, the starship Madagascar orbited the desolate colony world of LV-426.

"Okay," Alex the lion said as he stepped onto the transporter pad. "Alice prepare to beam us down."

Behind the transporter was a stout female human with red hair tied back in a severe bun. She wasn't dressed in sexy uniform with a miniskirt the way the female officers usually did. Instead she was in a utilitarian worksuit and a baseball cap that emphasized her rather dumpy form. "Sorry, commander, that's a no go. Can't get a lock down there. Is this thing on?"

"Are you sure an enlisted person should be manning the transporter?" Melman the giraffe muttered into Marty's ear. "I mean, she doesn't look very capable to me."

"C'mon Melman she's the transporter chief," the zebra assured him. "I'm sure she knows what she's doing."

"They've got a restroom down there, right?" Gloria the hippo asked from her transporter pad. "'Cause I'm not gonna go on the ground like some zoo animal!" When the lion, the zebra and the giraffe turned their heads to stare at her she added: "What? What did I say?"

"Here's your problem," Alice said in her rather snippy voice. "It looks like the colony was built over a deposit of Kelbonite. Can't beam you down closer than two miles to that place."

"Kelbonite?" Alex repeated. "What the heck is 'Kelbonite'?"

"It's some kind of metal that interferes with transporters," Marty explained. "Did any of you guys see Star Trek: Insurrection?"

"Was that the one with the Borg in it?" Melman asked.

"Nope," the zebra shook his head.

"Uh, okay then, no," the giraffe shrugged.

"You sure watch a lot of TV, Marty," Gloria teased.

"Man, I gotta get a life," Marty grumbled.

"Okay, fine, we'll take a shuttle," Alex decided. "Happy?"

"Not particularly," Melman grumbled. "We're still going down into a danger zone! We're talking certain death here!"

"Come on, guys!" Alex insisted. "Phil and Mason are counting on us! It's our fault that they're down there in the first place; we've got to rescue them!"

"Okay, we're coming Alex," Marty sighed. "Don't get all hyper, sheesh."

"Shouldn't we bring some redshirts?" Melman asked as they walked off the transporter platform and strode to the exit. "Before we go, we should calculate every possible way some one could die and then bring that number of redshirts just to be safe. Whad'ayah say?"

"Melman, Phil and Mason have an entire landing party with them," the lion explained as they left the room. "They have whole bunch of redshirts with them. Don't worry about it."

After they left, Alice rolled her eyes and grunted in disgust. "Officers!"

Back on the tropical paradise of Lemuria Two, Skipper was getting frustrated. "You mean we can't do anything? Teach them how to defend themselves or at least wear a helmet when doing something stupid?"

"Nope," Marlene shook her head. "Unless they specifically ask, we can't even offer it."

"If these people are so technologically primitive, why are we even allowed on this planet?" Kowalski asked her.

"We detected a warp signature and came to investigate," Marlene explained. "We rescued two of their astronauts from certain doom, when their spaceship malfunctioned. The problem was, our cultural team was down here for three months before we found out that their scientists just found that spacecraft."

"Those Grays never did learn how to drive," Skipper chuckled.

"To make a long story short, the Lemurs were so sophisticated socially and their planet offered us so many opportunities that we decided to go ahead with the cultural assessment anyway," Marlene continued. "They passed with flying colors. The problem is, the quality of life on this planet is so good that they have no reason to deal with us."

"Cheese and crackers!" Skipper swore. "I've been trained for situations where the local area's gone to heck in a handbasket; I've never been trained for a situation where nothing's wrong before!"

"Ugh!" Rico nodded.

"Skippah?" Private frowned and tilted his head. "What's that noise?"

"It's some kind of engine!" Kowalski exclaimed.

"Let's go outside, boys," Skipper smiled grimly. "I've got my freak on for recon!"

Outside they saw a metal craft that looked like an upside down tulip land in the middle of the largest wooden platform that wasn't covered with treehouses. A door opened and number of tiny rodent-like bipeds scurried out and brandished weapons. Each were wearing a gray uniform that not only matched the color of their fur but also resembled the style of uniform worn by German soldiers during the second World War. Following them was a three meter tall ratlike humanoid with broad shoulders and bulging muscles wearing the uniform of an officer.

"Residents of this primitive and puny planet!" the giant rat bellowed in a rough voice. "As of this moment this planet and all of its resources have been annexed by the Space Rat Empire!"

Next: Rats