Have I ever mentioned you play a very irritating game of chess, Mr. Spock?
Shuttle’s seen better days.
Analysis, Mister Worf: what the hell is going on?
The first Klingon to step aboard this ship will be the last Klingon. Full Security Alert, Mr. Spock.
“He played his hand well.”
“He played me, all right. And what’s my excuse? Is he a Changeling? No! Is he a being with seven lifetimes of experience? No! Is he a wormhole alien? No! He’s just a man! Like me! And he beat me!”
“I am in the grip of forces you do not understand.”
How does this sound?: The Weird Planet Where Time Moved Very Fast and So Did the People Who Lived There, by Naomi Wildman.
Four and a half Vulcans to beam down.
If you’re bored, Mr. Paris, I’m sure I can find something else for you to do. The warp plasma filters are due for a thorough cleaning.
So if everything were back to the way it was supposed to be, what do you think you’d be doing right now?
And where can I reach you?
Your sense of humor’s returned.
But, in seconds, it will completely dissolve that uniform. Personally, I’d be delighted to see you go around naked…
Better safe than sorry.
I will feed him.
You can’t handle a haymaker.
I am a KLINGON! If you doubt it, a demonstration CAN be arranged!
It’s French.
Well, it doesn’t matter; it isn’t true anyway.
The sheer fucking hubris.