A question! Since before your sun burned hot in space and before your race was born, I have awaited a question.
They’re called the Borg. Protect yourself, Captain, or they’ll destroy you.
Prophet: Baseball. What is this?
Sisko: I was afraid you’d ask that…
A very interesting game, this poker.
Wesley: I don’t think so. I fold.
Geordi: With three jacks? What, are you kidding?! Wesley, you may get straight A’s in school, but there’s a lot you need to learn about poker.
Oh, look what you got, two jacks. You got a half fizzbin already.
Locutus: I am Locutus of Borg. Resistance is futile. Your life as it has been is over. From this time forward, you will service… us.
Big, dramatic music…
Riker: Mr. Worf… fire.
TO BE CONTINUED
My dad: Nooooooo!
Me (even 20 years later): Brrrr!
Relieve Commodore Decker of command, Spock. That’s a direct order.
Then take your best shot, Locutus, because we are about to intervene.
Sleep.
I’m with Starfleet. We don’t lie.
I am B 4
The troublesome little manchild… Are you prepared for the kind of death you’ve earned, little man?
Mister Kim, we’re Starfleet officers. Weird is part of the job.
(Side note: Just got this very cool miniature ST:TOS USS Enterprise. Diecast metal, well-detailed and painted, and fits in the palm of your hand: http://www.historicaviation.com/USS-Enterprise-NCC-1701-Die-Cast-Model/productinfo/0097657/. A good holiday gift for any Trekker!).
Listen to me! You can’t have a runabout, you cannot get your medical supplies, and I don’t give a DAMN about the colonization schedule! Those colonists can make do with a box of bandages, for all I care!
If I save your butt, your life belongs to me. Isn’t that some kind of Indian custom?
Because I don’t want to end up like my father!
Now we’ve got them right where they want us.
Fortune favors the bold.
Well, what do you know? I finally got the last word!