While I might trust the doctor to remove a splinter or lance a boil, I do not believe he has the knowledge to restore a brain.
Consider the first time a run-through: a rehearsal, to shake out the flaws.
“So? Speak.”
“Great power… to control. Dominate.”
“Speak.”
“Impressive. They can make planets!”
“Oh yes, new cities, homes in the country, woman at your side, children playing at your feet… and overhead, fluttering in the breeze, the flag of the Federation! Charming. Station!”
“Yes, my lord.”
Ten Forward is the hub of the ship’s social activity. Everyone on board comes here.
We’ve got to get out of here, now!
“Perhaps we can refrain from any unnecessary head-chopping.”
“Oh. That’s disappointing.”
“Contact with the entity is… unpleasant. I felt as if my brain were being squeezed through my nose.”
“I did that to a man once.”
This is not an act of war, but of love! I want Lieutenant Yar to become my First One!
“Once again, the magic of science prevails!”
Two minutes.
No, there are five. Are you quite sure?
Coffee. Jamaican blend. Double-strong, double-sweet. “You’re drinking too much of this, O’Brien.” “Anything to stay sharp, O’Brien.”
I have a notorious weakness for hard luck cases. That’s why I work with whales.
No kill I!
When they find us, I will be dead — killed by your weapon!
Note the sinister eyes and the malformed ears. Definitely an inferior race.
Kind of like Victor Borge?
“Ny’al’s got some speed for being a big ol’ hunk of ham steak.”
“He is aesthetically pleasing.”
We’re pirate-adjacent.
In a pig’s eye.