Our beryllium sphere is… is wire with plaster around it. And our digital conveyor is… it’s Christmas tree lights. It’s a decoration. It’s all fake. Just like me.
“Hydrogen. Helium,” she started obediently. Keep them in their proper atomic order. What next. She knew it. Yes. “Lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine.”
Scotty, you promised me an estimate on the dilithium crystals.
Dilithium chamber at maximum, Captain.
Doctor, you’ve got twenty seconds, maximum!
Uh, uh… negative, negative. We had a reactor leak here now. Give us a few minutes to lock it down. Large leak, very dangerous.
You’re a man with a long and dangerous past.
The real unforgivable acts are committed by calm men in beautiful green silk rooms, who deal death wholesale, by the shipload, without lust, without anger, or desire, or any redeeming emotion to excuse them but cold fear of some pretended future.
Do keep out of my way in the future and the past.
Humans have a phrase, ‘What is past is prologue’.
Yes, Mr. Spock, that was the past. I’m concerned with the present.
Tonight I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past.
Is that one of your triplets?
They’re cute as a litter of collie pups. Some of them are going to make soldiers.
I feel the truly noteworthy portion of his career began at his court-martial.
As the right of each sentient species to live in accordance with its normal cultural evolution is considered sacred, no Star Fleet personnel may interfere with the normal and healthy development of alien life and culture. Such interference includes introducing superior knowledge, strength, or technology to a world whose society is incapable of handling such advantages wisely. Star Fleet personnel may not violate this Prime Directive, even to save their lives and/or their ship, unless they are acting to right an earlier violation or an accidental contamination of said culture. This directive takes precedence over any and all other considerations, and carries with it the highest moral obligation.
Kirk: Well, why didn’t somebody tell me?
“Surely you realize by now,” Immu said, “everything we do is aimed at weakening you. We approach cultures as they start into space; we offer them technology and flawed but plausible scientific models that completely bypass certain discoveries those races would otherwise make on their own.” The cloud above Immu’s head split into two hemispheres with a slight gap between left and right. “We create a discontinuity in a species’ scientific progress,” she said. “We give them devices they can’t understand and won’t understand, because they’ve been deflected from developing the necessary scientific background.”
That’s deep! You’re SO obviously influenced by McKuen.
“Tell you my plan? I can’t tell you my plan. My plan is so complex, your brain doesn’t have the capacity to comprehend it. This entire universe doesn’t have the capacity to comprehend my plan - there aren’t enough quarks to encode the simplest overview. I’ve got fifty-five million backup universes grinding away at figuring out what I have to do next, and that’s just the underlying logic, not the user interface. No way can I tell you my plan.”
“In other words,” I said, “you do not have a plan.”
“Well, I’ve got a few rough ideas. My greatest strength is improvising.”
Plan? There ain’t no plan!