|
John: |
What have we got today?
|
T’pol: |
A jerral super nova remnant, approximately three light years off our course.
|
John: |
That’s interesting. What else?
|
T’pol: |
A cluster of three neutron stars, very unusual. |
Trip: |
How about that? Three stone cold stars. Pretty exciting, huh?
|
|
John: |
Do you see that? Just off the coast.
|
Hoshi: |
I’ve got it.
|
Trip: |
Looks like an old clipper ship.
|
John: |
It’s almost like traveling back in time.
|
Trip: |
I cannot wait to get down there.
|
T’pol: |
I’d advise against that. It’s standard protocol to wait ‘till a society develops warp drive before initiating first contact.
|
John: |
Those are Vulcan protocols, not human.
|
T’pol: |
Starfleet would be wise to adopt them.
|
|
John: |
Is there a problem?
|
T’pol: |
I’m detecting neutrino emit ions from a city on the eastern continent.
|
John: |
What’s causing it?
|
T’pol: |
Possibly an antimatter reactor.
|
Trip: |
Those people don’t even have indoor plumbing.
|
Hoshi: |
Maybe of them are more advanced than others.
|
T'pol: |
Or maybe we’re not the first visitors.
|
|
John: |
Seventy-eight light years to get here and our first act is breaking and entering.
|
Trip: |
Maybe you don’t have to mention this part in your log.
|
|
T’pol: |
::Shoots Riann::
|
John: |
Was that necessary?
|
T’pol: |
She was armed.
|
John: |
Let’s try not to shoot anyone else while we’re here, ok?
|
T’pol: |
I’ll try.
|
|
Garos: |
This is the pride of my entire collection.
|
Trip: |
Who’s it supposed to be?
|
Garos: |
Draylin, the mythical ruler of the afterworld.
|
Trip: |
Oh.
|
Garos: |
You’re not from this province are you?
|
John: |
No, and neither are you. Your DNA doesn’t match any other life form on this planet.
|
Garos: |
Nor does yours.
|
|
Riann: |
You two are from the same province?
|
John: |
Exactly.
|
Riann: |
Must be difficult to make friends when you keep so much to yourself.
|
John: |
I’m sorry I don’t mean to be evasive.
|
Riann: |
Yes, you do.
|
|
John: |
Did you say something?
|
Riann: |
Sorry, I mutter when I’m writing. Sometimes. It’s an old habit.
|
John: |
I have a similar one. I talk to my dog.
|
|
Riann: |
Have you ever seen anything like that?
|
John: |
Actually, I have.
|
|
John: |
I can’t use my phase pistol. I’d be risk blowing up half the city.
|
Trip: |
Captain, let me come down there and take a crack at it.
|
|
T’pol: |
Prepare to leave orbit on my order.
|
Trip: |
Belay that. Keep this ship right where it is.
|
T’pol: |
I don’t have to reinterate that I outrank you Mister Tucker. Ensign.
|
Billy: |
Engineering.
|
Trip: |
Billy, stand by to vent the nacels, on my order.
|
Billy: |
Yes, Sir.
|
Trip: |
we’re not going anywhere.
|
T’pol: |
I didn’t say leave orbit. I said prepare to leave orbit. I have no intention of leaving the captain. Dead or alive.
|
