Phasers on stun.
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
Space. The final frontier.
But what have we seen instead? You worrying about Commander Riker’s career, listening to Counsellor Troi’s pedantic psychobabble, indulging Data in his witless exploration of humanity…
We have a flop.
There are creatures in the universe who would consider you the ultimate achievement, android. No feelings, no emotions, no pain. And yet you covet those qualities of humanity. Believe me, you’re missing nothing. But if it means anything to you, you’re a better human than I.
Despite the seeming contradictions, all is as it appears to be: I am Abraham Lincoln.
And I am the Czar of all the Russias.
Blind! Truly blind! Captain Kirk is your commanding officer, and you are his subordinate; that is all.
“I have no wish to quarrel with you, Worf.”
“Nor I, with you. The House of Martok is an honored one, with a proud tradition, but-- I must know why you are here.”
Captain, suppose we discover that in order to set things straight again, Edith Keeler must die?
Like Fermat’s theorem, it’s a puzzle we may never solve.
I am your wife. I am a Klingon.
“Put this on.”
“What for?”
“Because if you do not, I will kill you.”
“Lieutenant, you are looking at the only Starfleet cadet who ever beat the no-win scenario.“
You know, there was a time when I wouldn’t hurt a fly.
You cheated!
Well, we found a whole world of minds that work just like yours — logical, unemotional, completely pragmatic — and we poor, irrational humans whipped them in a fair fight.
Here it comes.
Feels smooth and cool, like glass.