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Malcolm: |
Any luck with the comm.?
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Trip: |
Dead as a door nail.
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Trip: |
I’d rather realign every microcircuit on this shuttle than try to read through that baby.
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Malcolm: |
British schools have a core curriculum. It serves to provide a well-rounded education. Sometimes I think you North Americans read nothing but comic books and those ridiculous science fiction novels.
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Trip: |
I'll have you know that Superman was laced with metaphor – subtext layered on subtext.
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Trip: |
If we could get close enough for it to pick up our distress beacon and relay the signal back to Starfleet.
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Malcolm: |
I’m afraid the math doesn’t work out, Commander. It’s going to take weeks, maybe months to each Echo 3. By the time Starfleet got a ship out here, we’d be. . We’d be long dead.
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Trip: |
Which way?
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Malcolm: |
Which way to what?
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Trip: |
Echo 3. Which way to Echo 3?
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Malcolm: |
I told you it’s too far!
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Trip: |
Do you know which direction it is or don’t you?
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Malcolm: |
What would you like me to do?
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Trip: |
I don’t know. You cold hold this flashlight, or turn down the heat, whatever you want. I’m just getting a little tired of listening to all your pessimism.
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Malcolm: |
If there’ something you need me to do, I’ll be more than happy to comply, but I’m afraid pessimism is simply not an accurate description of my log entry. I’m just being realistic, Commander.
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Trip: |
What’s that?
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Malcolm: |
The sea bass.
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Trip: |
Any good?
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Malcolm: |
It’s lovely, thank you.
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Trip: |
Mr. And Mrs. Reed, I realize that you just begun a period of mourning, and I’ll never get an answer to this question, but I got to ask it anyway. Was Malcolm always this cynical?
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Malcolm: |
In a few days when the reality of this situation actually begins to sink in, you might very well decide you want to record some logs of your own. You have my word, I will not interrupt you.
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Trip: |
I just need to get some sleep, Malcolm. Is that so hard to understand?
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Malcolm: |
We have less than nine days of oxygen left. It seems a waste to use it up sleeping.
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Trip: |
If I don’t waste some oxygen sleeping, I’m gonna start gettin’ cranky. And you don’t want to spend our last nine days cooped up with me when I’m cranky. So turn that thing off and get some rest!
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T’pol: |
Vulcans can never ignore courage, and this Vulcan will never ignore Lt. Malcolm Reed again.
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Malcolm: |
Well I can’t say I’ve ever ignored you T’pol. Is it all right if I call you T’pol?
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T’pol: |
Yes, may I call you Malcolm?
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Malcolm: |
I suppose so, but if truth be known, I’ve never much cared for the name Malcolm. Always seemed a bit too stuffy.
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T’pol: |
I think it’s a lovely name. Malcolm is the Vu word for serenity.
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Malcolm: |
Well than perhaps I won’t change it. Pity, though, I was rather quite fond of the name Stinky.
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Malcolm: |
What’s that?
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Trip: |
I got the receiver working, but the transmitter’s a lost cause. Who’s Stinky?
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Malcolm: |
I beg your pardon?
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Trip: |
You were talking in your sleep. Kept calling for some guy named Stinky.
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Trip: |
Ah, Ruby, whatever happened to ya?
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Malcolm: |
Ruby? You don’t mean the waitress, Ruby?
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Trip: |
You knew Ruby?
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Malcolm: |
knew her more times than I can remember.
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Trip: |
Ouch.
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Malcolm: |
Seems we have more in common than we thought.
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Trip: |
Wouldn’t it be easier to just record one message and than add the dear whoever afterwards? This is your fifth or sixth identical letter.
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Malcolm: |
That’s not true. There have been subtle differences.
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Malcolm: |
The radio, or is it just the galaxy giggling at us again?
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Trip: |
It can giggle all it wants, but the galaxy’s not getting any of our bourbon.
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Malcolm: |
What do you think of T’pol? Hmm? You think she’s pretty?
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Trip: |
T’pol, are you serious?
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Malcolm: |
Well she’s a woman you know. Think she’s pretty.
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Trip: |
You’ve had too much to drink.
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