After the playful and light-hearted crossover episode of last week, the pendulum of "Star Trek" swings back with the heaviest episode that "Strange New Worlds" has crafted to date—even surpassing that chilling episode featuring Gorn Babies, which culminated in Hemmer's tragic demise. In many respects, this moment has been a long time brewing. While "The Broken Circle," the season-two opener, was an enjoyable installment filled with allusions to M'Benga and Chapel's shared service in the Klingon War, particularly their tour of duty on J'Gal, it hinted at a darker past. We saw them inject themselves with an unknown substance—whose name we finally learn in this episode—triggering a berserk rage that suggested a grim familiarity. Chapel, whom we know as perpetually cheerful, and M'Benga, who exudes kindness and concern, have clearly witnessed and endured experiences they'd prefer to erase from their memories.
This episode brings it all flooding back, thanks to what Pike dubs "a special visitor." Pike views Rah's visit as a positive development. After all, Ambassador Dak'Rah (Robert Wisdom), affectionately known as "Rah," is tasked with sowing peace throughout the galaxy, most notably in the Prospero system. However, the fact that Dak'Rah is a Klingon complicates matters, despite his apparent ease in charming Pike. As Pike notes, most of the Enterprise crew lacks direct war experience. Those who do, however, perceive Klingons, particularly this Klingon, through a different lens.
This sentiment extends to the bridge, where Rah interrupts Ortegas' debate about the merits of having a Klingon peace ambassador, with Uhura (a staunch supporter of Rah) as their guest. The ever-diplomatic Rah pretends not to hear and attempts to win Ortegas over. He even brushes off his pain when Spock's attempt to prepare a raktajino accidentally burns his hand, leading him to Sick Bay. There, the barely concealed fury on M'Benga's usually serene face instantly highlights the discrepancy between Rah's presented self and the person M'Benga still believes him to be.
But who is Rah, really? Is he a genuine convert to the Federation, or merely donning a convenient façade? We discover that he has lied about at least part of his defection narrative, but does that necessarily mean he is dishonest in all aspects of his life? Moreover, does this even matter when weighed against his good deeds? "Under the Shadow of War" never definitively answers these questions. Instead, it remains ensconced in a moral gray area, culminating in a series of final scenes that blur reality and truth, compelling us to view Chapel and M'Benga through a different lens. The events portrayed here are undoubtedly destined to haunt future episodes.
What fuels M'Benga's (perhaps) murderous fury? The episode delves into this inquiry with clarity through its poignant flashbacks to the Klingon War and the fateful time M'Benga and Chapel spent on J'Gal's Moon, where their paths converged, forging the supportive bond we've borne witness to throughout the series. The onscreen text reveals that this encounter transpired "a few years ago," amidst the tumultuous upheaval of wartime, shortly after Chapel deployed what amounted to a Starfleet MASH unit within the heart of a combat zone.
Upon her arrival, she is welcomed by Commander "Everyone Calls Me Buck" Martinez (played by Clint Howard), the unit's chief medical officer, a man whose malapropisms, such as "Apparently, a watched pot doesn't get the oil," hint at the dire shortage of supplies, specifically the lack of an internal-organ regenerator—a harbinger of dire consequences to come. Buck informs Chapel of her role as head nurse and directs her towards M'Benga, leaving her to navigate her own path as wounded soldiers begin arriving via transport.
As Chapel triages the injured, she confronts the gravity of the situation when faced with the decision of what to do with a critically wounded soldier desperately in need of an internal-organ regenerator. M'Benga, recognizing the urgency, proposes a temporary, albeit sketchy, solution: storing the soldier's pattern in the transport's buffer (a foreshadowing of his later actions with his daughter). It's a questionable makeshift fix, but it offers a glimmer of hope amidst despair.
Later, the bond between Chapel and M'Benga strengthens as they frantically attempt to revive a patient whose heart has ceased beating, adopting the team's makeshift motto: "We got this."
Switching to the present, Pike pays M'Benga a visit, ostensibly to borrow some Deltan parsley—a delicacy in moderation but lethal in excess. M'Benga sees through Pike's pretext and even accepts it calmly when Pike reveals his orders to make Rah, a Klingon War veteran, feel welcomed. To this end, Pike is hosting a dinner for Rah (complete with jambalaya) and invites M'Benga and Chapel to attend. It's not mandatory, but its significance is undeniable.
This directive is questionable, and it seems unlikely that Pike, as fond as he is of hosting his crew, would attempt to implement it without explicit orders. The dinner quickly reveals its folly. "There's a chance General… Ambassador Rah has genuinely changed," M'Benga remarks to Ortegas before they enter. "Sometimes, pretending long enough can make something the truth." They agree to don "the Starfleet face" and endure the evening. But it proves easier said than done.
While Rah entertains the guests with anecdotes of his diplomatic escapades, Chapel struggles to conceal her discomfort. She doesn't even seek solace in conversation with Spock.
Spock devises a clever distraction by delving into a comparative analysis between Sun Tzu's "The Art of War" and Klingon philosophies on warfare, cleverly creating an opportunity for Chapel and M’Benga to discreetly withdraw, thereby triggering yet another poignant flashback. In this vivid recollections, an Orion operative attempts to enlist M’Benga, who harbors an undisclosed past in covert operations, for an assassination mission targeting Rah, a notoriously cruel Klingon leader.
Back at the dinner table, the veneer of civility shatters when Rah broaches the subject of J’Gal. "My ideals have undergone a transformation," he asserts, a statement that highlights a growing disdain for Klingon traditions since boarding the Enterprise. Ortegas remains unconvinced, her suspicions aroused further when Rah attempts to toast to J’Gal, only to be met with the Klingon battle cry of "Remain Klingon." Disgusted, she exits, followed by Chapel. Observing Rah's visible distress, Pike takes note, and shortly thereafter, M’Benga also leaves, though not before Rah extends an invitation to engage in some Klingon martial arts—a proposition he might have reconsidered had he known of M’Benga's background.
The atmosphere is thick with tension as Rah proposes an alliance, viewing it as a powerful statement. In response, M’Benga inquiries whether Rah truly slaughtered his own men to escape and defect. But the truth is, M’Benga already knows the answer.
His time aboard J’Gal pushed him to his breaking point. The harrowing experience of erasing the pattern of a gravely injured soldier from the transporter buffer, witnessing the soldier he and Chapel had saved marching off to war only to return as a corpse, coupled with the death of the Orion agent, impels M’Benga to confront Rah personally. Rah earned the moniker "The Butcher of J’Gal" for eliminating his own men, but it was M’Benga who actually pulled the trigger, and he would have terminated Rah too, had the chance arisen.
When Rah and M’Benga reconvene in Sick Bay, M’Benga’s genuine sentiments are impossible to conceal. Rah persists in his entreaty for M’Benga to join his peace mission, even as M’Benga confronts him with the stark reality that it was Rah who issued the orders for J’Gal's worst atrocities. "I've been striving with all my might to atone for my sins," Rah laments, just before M’Benga unmasks himself as the genuine Butcher of J’Gal. The conversation then takes a decided turn for the dire.
M’Benga unveils a container holding the very weapon he wielded to slay Klingons under Rah’s command. Despite this revelation, Rah continues to advocate for peace. A scuffle ensues, culminating in Rah being stabbed to death. Yet, the exact sequence of events remains shrouded in mystery, both to us and to Chapel, who bears witness to the altercation through a wall of frosted glass. She later testifies that Rah was the aggressor, seizing the knife and forcing M’Benga into self-defense—a narrative she cannot substantiate with certainty, yet she testifies to it nonetheless. Whether she knows the truth or merely wishes to believe it remains a question mark.
Pike, visibly shaken, nonetheless appears to accept Chapel’s account, bolstered by DNA evidence linking the knife to the Butcher of J’Gal—an accurate association, albeit with the wrong individual. Pike, far from gullible, speaks to M’Benga, saying, "I trust that if you did provoke the altercation with Rah, and it spun out of control, you would confide in me. I would stand by your side and help sort it out." M’Benga insists otherwise, and Pike must take him at his word. M’Benga then poses a hypothetical: what if he had indeed slain Rah, but Rah was an exceptionally wicked person? Would that mitigate anything? Pike, a steadfast optimist, cannot endorse such a hypothetical. "You haven't walked in my shoes," M’Benga responds. "You have the luxury of believing in the best in people." When M’Benga confesses his relief at Rah’s demise, all Pike can do is nod somberly and depart.
Did M’Benga initiate the conflict? The truth remains elusive, intentionally so, with scant evidence pointing to Rah losing his composure and becoming combative. Whether he was feigning his love for peace or genuinely believed in it, his message remained steadfast throughout the episode. (And even if he were feigning, that does not detract from his achievements as an ambassador.) Yet, it is challenging not to empathize with M’Benga’s perspective. He survived unspeakable horrors, and here stood the individual most directly responsible for the worst he had witnessed and endured. Posing ethical dilemmas is a frequent staple of Star Trek, but rarely does it leave them so unresolved, much less hint at the possibility that a major and deeply sympathetic character might have crossed a threshold from which there is no return. The malfunctioning, flickering biobed that M’Benga perceives as a metaphor for his own shattered state hints at the episode’s conclusion, yet the story lingers, unresolved.
