Captain's Log: Stardate 2821.5.
On route to Makus 3 with a cargo of medical supplies,
our course leads us past Murasaki 312,
a quasar-like formation,
vague, undefined.
A priceless opportunity for scientific investigation.
On boardis Galactic High Commissioner Ferris,
overseeing the deliver of the medicines to Makus 3.
Captain to shuttlecraft Galileo--
Stand by, Mr. Spock.
{10968}{11016}I remind you, Captain,
I'm entirely opposed to this delay.
Your mission is to get those emergency medical supplies
to Makus 3 in time for their transfer
to the New Paris colonies.
No problem, Commissioner.
And may I remind you...
that I have standing orders to investigate
all quasars and quasar-like phenomena
wherever they may be encountered.
Besides...
it's three days to Makus.
And the rendezvous doesn't take place for five.
I don't like to take chances.
The plague is out of control on New Paris.
We must get those drugs there on time.
No problem.
Captain to Galileo--
All systems cleared for take off.
Power up.
All instruments activated.
All readings normal. All go.
Launch shuttlecraft.
Readings--normal...
Acceleration--normal...
Phase one separation--normal.
Position?
3.7.
Sir, l--
Make up your mind, Mr. Latimer.
This indicator's gone crazy.
That's to be expected, Mr. Spock.
Quasars are extremely disruptive.
Just how much, we don't know.
Considerably, Mr. Boma.
Mr. Spock, radiation is increasing.
Stop forward momentum, Mr. Latimer.
I can't, sir. Nothing happens.
Galileo to Enterprise.
Galileo to Enterprise-- Come in, please.
Ionic interference, Mr. Spock.
We're being drawn right into it.
Galileo to Enterprise.
Galileo to Enterprise.
We are out of control,
being pulled directly into the heart of Murasaki 312.
Being hit by violent radiation on outer hull.
Course, 3.2 by--
Anything at all?
Nothing clear, Captain.
Just a few words about being pulled off course.
Get a fix on the Galileo.
Scanners are blank, Captain.
We're getting a mass of readings I've never seen.
Nothing makes sense.
[Computer] Negative ionic concentration--
1.64x 10 to the 9th power meters,
Radiation wave length-- 370 angstroms,
harmonics--upward along entire spectrum.
What is it, Captain?
That thing out there has ionized this complete sector.
None of our instruments work.
At least four complete solar systems
in the immediate vicinity.
And out there somewhere,
a 24-foot shuttlecraft, off course,
out of control.
Finding a needle in a haystack
would be child's play.
Space...
the final frontier.
These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise.
Its five-year mission--
to explore strange, new worlds...
to seek out new life and new civilizations...
to boldly go where no man has gone before.
Captain's Log: Stardate 2821.7.
The electromagnetic phenomenon known as Murasaki 312
whirls like some angrblight in space.
A depressive reminder tha seven shipmates haven't been heard from.
Equally bad,
the effect has renderedour normal searching systems useless.
Without them, we are blind...
and almost helpless.
I was opposed to this from the beginning!
Our flight to Makus 3 is of the highest priority.
I'm aware of that.
At the same time,
I have certain scientific duties I must perform.
Investigating the Murasaki effect is one.
Yes, but you've lost your crew.
We have two days to find them.
Two days? ln all that?
Two days?
What would you have me do, leave them?
You shouldn't have sent them in the first place.
Captain, there's one planet capable of sustaining human life.
Type M, oxygen/nitrogen,
and it's listed as Taurus 2.
It's unexplored.
As far as we can determine with our equipment malfunction,
it's just about dead-center of the Murasaki effect.
Thank you, Lieutenant.
- Mr. Sulu. - Yes, sir.
- Set course for Taurus 2. - Aye, aye, sir.
You all right?
Yeah.
Scotty?
Boma?
Yeah.
Now, that's what I call a ride.
Yeoman?
Yeah.Just a little bump on the head.
Upsy-daisy.
Thank you.
What happened?
I can't be sure,
but I'd say that...
the magnetic potential of the effect was--
Thank you--
was such that...
as we gathered speed,
it was multiplied geometrically.
And we were simply shot into the center of the effect,
Like a projectile.
I'd say your evaluation is reasonable, Mr. Boma.
What a mess.
Picturesque descriptions will not mend broken circuits, Mr. Scott.
I think you'll find your work is cut out for you.
Galileo to Enterprise-- Come in, please.
You don't expect an answer, do you?
I expect nothing, Mr. Scott.
It is merely logical to try all the alternatives.
Dr. McCoy, a reading on the atmosphere, please.
Partial pressure of oxygen,
70mm of mercury,
nitrogen--1 40.
Breathable, if you're not running in competition.
Just the facts, Doctor.
Traces of argon, neon, krypton.
All in acceptable quantities.
However, I wouldn't recommend this place as a summer resort.
Your opinion will be duly noted.
You're recording this, Yeoman?
Of course, Mr. Spock.
Mr. Scott, if you'll make a survey of damage.
Logical.
I think we should move outside,
make room for Mr. Scott to do his work.
Mr. Latimer, Mr. Gaetano, you'll arm yourselves.
Scout out the area, keeping in visual contact with the ship.
Aye, aye, sir.
What do you think our chances are
of contacting the Enterprise?
Under present conditions, extremely poor.
But they'll be looking for us.
If the ionization effect is as widespread as I believe,
they'll be searching without instrumentation,
by visual contact only.
On those terms,
this is a very large planet.
You don't think they'll find us.
Not while we're grounded.
We may be here for a very long time.
Nothing, Captain.
Mr. Sulu.
Yes, Captain?
Anything on your scanners?
Totally inoperative, sir.
Have you tried tying in to the auxiliary power?
Yes, sir. No change.
Transport room...
this is the captain speaking.
Are the transporters beaming up yet?
Not 100%, Captain.
We beamed down some inert material,
but it came back in a disassociated condition.
We wouldn't dare try with people.
Thank you.
This is the captain speaking.
Flight deck, prepare Columbus for immediate exit...
for a search of the planet surface.
Correlate coordinates with Mr. Sulu.
Thank you.
Anything, Uhura?
All wave lengths dominated by ionization effects, sir.
Transmission is blocked, reception impossible.
Well, Captain?
We have until 2823.8 to continue the search, Commissioner.
You don't really think you'll have any luck, do you?
Look, these people are my friends and my shipmates.
I intend to continue the search for them
until the last possible moment.
Very well, Captain.
But not one second beyond that moment.
Is that clear?
If it isn't,
Iook at book 1 9, section 433, paragraph 1 2.
I'm familiar with the regulations, Commissioner.
I know all about your authority.
Launch shuttlecraft Columbus.
[Tricorder Whines]
I can't say much for the circumstances,
but at least it's your big chance.
My big chance? For what, Doctor?
Command.
Oh, I know you, Mr. Spock.
You've never voiced it,
but you've always thought that logic
was the best basis on which to build command.
I am a logical man, Doctor.
It'll take more than logic to get us out of this.
Perhaps, but I know of no better way to begin.
I realize command does have its fascinations,
even under circumstances such as these.
But I neither enjoy the idea of command,
nor am I frightened of it.
It simply exists.
And I will do whatever logically needs to be done.
Excuse me.
Very bad, Mr. Spock.
In what way?
We've lost a great deal of fuel.
We have no chance to reach escape velocity.
And if we ever hope to make orbit,
we'll have to lighten our load by 500 pounds.
The weight of three grown men.
Aye, you could put it that way.
Or the equivalent in equipment.
Dr. McCoy, with very few exceptions,
we use virtually every piece of equipment in attaining orbit.
There's very little excess weight, except among the passengers.
Three of us must stay behind.
Unless the situation changes radically, yes.
And who's to choose?
As commanding officer,
the choice will be mine.
You wouldn't be interested in drawing lots?
A very quaint idea, Mr. Boma,
but I believe I'm better qualified
to make the selection than random lots.
All right, Mr. Spock.
Who?
My choice will be a logical one,
arrived at through logical means.
Mr. Spock, life and death are seldom logical.
But attaining a desired goal always is, Doctor.
Gentlemen, I suggest we move outside
to examine the hull
in the event we've overlooked any minor damage.
If any minor damage was overlooked,
it was when they put his head together.
Not his head, Mr. Boma,
his heart.
His heart.
[Thrumming]
What is it?
I--I don't know.
It's from up there.
N-No, it's from back there.
It's everywhere.
It's all around us!
Let's get out of here.
Aah!
Come on, Boma.
What was it?
It was something huge, terrible.
U-Up there. I think I hit it.
Did you see what it was?
Vaguely. It was like a giant ape.
Poor Latimer.
At least it was quick for him.
We'll get of fall right.
Nothing there.
I tell you there was.
I don't doubt your word.
There must be something. I swear I hit it!
Folsom Point.
Sir?
This. Remarkable resemblance to the Folsom Point
discovered in 1 925, old world calendar,
near Mexico, North America.
A bit more crude about the shaft, I believe. Not very efficient.
Not very efficient?
Is that all you have to say?
Am I in error, Mr. Boma?
You, err?
Impossible.
Then what, Mr. Boma?
There's a man lying there dead,
and you talk about stone spears.
What about Latimer?
My concern for the dead
will not bring him back to life.
Mr. Spock.
In the interest of efficiency,
I don't think we should leave his body here.
Bringing him back to the ship
should not interfere with our repair efforts.
If you need assistance--
We'll do it.
Give me a hand with Latimer, will you?
Captain's Log.: Stardate 2822.3.
We continue to search...
but I find it more difficult each moment
to ward off a sense of utterfutility...
and great loss.
Captain, the Columbus has returned
from searching quadrant 779X by 534M.
Results--negative.
Proceed to the next quadrant.
Any word from engineering on our sensors?
They're working on them, sir. Still inoperable.
What about the transporters?
They're still reported unsafe.
Thankyou, Lieutenant.
Captain.
Yes, Commissioner?
I don't relish the thought of abandoning your crewmen,
however I must remind you--
I haven't forgotten, Commissioner.
You're running out of time.
I haven't forgotten that.
This is the captain. Try using overload power on the transporters.
- We've got to get them working. - Aye, aye, Captain.
Uhura.
Order the Columbus to open its course
2 degrees on every lap from now on.
Captain, 2 degrees
means they'll be overlooking
more than a dozen terrestrial miles on each search loop.
It also means we have a fighting chance
to cover the majority of the planet's surface.
Mind your helm, Mr. Sulu.
Yes, sir.
24 more hours, Captain.
Perhaps if you channeled the second auxiliary tank
through the primary intake valve.
It's too delicate.
It may not be able to take the pressure as it is.
This should save us at least 50 pounds.
Excellent, Doctor.
We should be able to scrape up another 1 00.
Which would leave us at least 1 50 pounds overweight.
I can't believe you're serious
about leaving someone behind.
Whatever's out there--
It is more rational to sacrifice one life than six.
I'm not talking about rationality.
You might be wise to start.
Mr. Spock. we're ready.
For what?
The services for Latimer.
Mr. Boma, we're working against time.
The man's dead. He deserves a decent burial.
You're the captain. A few words.
Doctor, perhaps you know the correct words for such an occasion.
Mr. Spock, that's your place.
My place is here.
If you please, Doctor.
We may all die here.
At least let us die like men, not machines.
By dealing with first things first,
I hope to increase our chances of staying alive.
Well, Mr. Scott.
If you'll give me a hand with this conduit.
The pressure's dropping.
We're losing everything.
What happened?
One of the lines gave.
The strain of coming through the atmosphere
and the added load when we tried to bypass.
Yeah, that's done it.
We have no fuel.
That would seem to solve the problem of who to leave behind.
Consider the alternatives, Mr. Scott.
We have no fuel! What alternatives?
Mr. Scott, there are always alternatives.
[Bones] Mr. Spock!
Something's happening outside.
[Thrumming]
What do those supersensitive ears of yours make of that?
Wood rubbing on some kind of leather.
They're getting ready. They'll attack.
Not necessarily.
It could be a simple tribal rite,
assuming a tribal culture.
Not a tribal culture.
Their artifacts are too primitive.
More likely a loose association of some sort.
If we knew more--
We know enough!
If they're tribal, they'll have a sense of unity.
We can use that.
How, Mr. Boma?
Give them a bloody nose.
Make them think twice about attacking us.
I agree.
If we do nothing,
we're giving them an invitation
to slaughter us.
I'm frequently appalled
by the low regard you Earthmen have for life.
We're practical about it.
I say we hit them before they hit us.
Mr. Boma?
Absolutely.
Dr. McCoy?
Seems logical to me.
It does, indeed.
It seems logical to me, also.
But to take life indiscriminately...
The majority.
I am not interested in the opinion of the majority.
Components must be weighed--
our dangers to ourselves
as well as our duties to other life forms,
friendly or not.
There's a third course.
That could get us killed.
I think not! Dr. McCoy and Yeoman Mears return to the ship.
Assist Mr. Scott in any way possible. We'll be back shortly.
Gentlemen,
you'll follow my orders to the letter,
firing only when so instructed,
and at my designated targets.
Now you're talking.
You'll fire to frighten, Mr. Gaetano, not to kill.
Oh, for...
You saw what they did to Latimer!
I am in command, Mr. Gaetano.
The orders and the responsibility will be mine.
Follow me.
[Thrumming]
[Rrraarr]
[Rrrarr]
The mists, l...
I can't see them.
I hear them.
They're directly ahead of us.
Several, I believe.
Direct your phasers to 2:00 and 1 0:00.
- I say we hit them dead on. - Yes, I know.
But fortunately, I'm giving the orders.
Take aim, please,
and fire when I give a signal.
Fire.
Cease fire.
They should think twice before bothering us again.
We should have killed them.
It was not necessary.
Fear will do what needs to be done.
Mr. Boma, return with me to the Galileo.
Mr. Gaetano, remain on guard here
keeping contact with the ship.
Did you find them?
Yes, we found them.
They won't bother us again.
I hope not.
Scotty has an idea.
It's dangerous, but it might work.
Go, Mr. Scott.
I can adjust the main reactor
to function with a substitute fuel supply.
That's all very well, but we don't have a substitute supply.
Aye, we do. Our phasers.
I can adapt them and use their energy.
It'll take time, but it's possible.
Trouble is, they happen to be our only defense.
They would also seem to be our only hope.
Aye.
Yeoman,
your phaser.
But what if the creatures attack again?
They won't attack for several hours. By then, with luck, we'll be gone.
If I can get a full load, we should be able to achieve orbit with all hands.
Not that we can maintain it long.
We don't have to maintain it very long.
In less than 24 hours, the Enterprise
will be forced to abandon its search in order to make a rendezvous.
If we can't maintain orbit after that time, it won't make any difference.
If we burn up in a decaying orbit
or die here on the planet's surface,
we shall surely die.
Doctor, your phaser.
Go to work, Mr. Scott.
Aye, aye, sir.
They came back all right, sir.
In my opinion, the transporters are now safe for human transport.
Good. This is the captain.
Landing parties 1 , 2, and 3,
report to transporter room for immediate beaming-down
to the surface of the planet, ordinance condition 1 -A.
Captain, it's a big planet.
It'll be sheer luck to find anything.
I'm depending on luck.
It's almost our only working tool.
[Growling]
Aahh...
[Rrraarr]
Aah!
Take this back to Mr. Scott
for conversion, please, Doctor.
Nobody knows what's happened to Gaetano,
and you hand over his phaser
Iike nothing's happened at all.
And give this to Mr. Scott
in the event I don't return.
Just where are you going?
I have a certain... scientific curiosity
about what's become of Mr. Gaetano.
Return to the ship, please.
I don't know.
He'll risk his neck locating Gaetano.
Then if he finds him,
he's just as liable to order him to stay behind.
You tell me.
Do you really think the ship will ever leave?
Well, it won't unless we get these phasers back.
Well, Mr. Spock, they didn't stay frightened very long,
did they?
Most illogical reaction.
We demonstrated our superior weapons.
They should have fled.
You mean they should have respected us?
Of course.
Mr. Spock, respect is a rational process.
Did it ever occur to you
they might react emotionally, with anger?
Doctor, I am not responsible for their unpredictability.
They were perfectly predictable...
to anyone with feeling.
You might as well admit it, Mr. Spock,
your precious logic brought them down on us.
Why haven't they done anything?
They're studying us, for the moment.
Another prediction, Mr. Spock?
My opinion, Mr. Boma.
[Crash]
Seal the windows!
Studying us, Mr. Spock?
They seem to learn rather quickly.
Spock, you have all the answers. What now?
Your tone is increasingly hostile.
My tone isn't the only thing that's hostile, Mr. Spock!
Curious. Most illogical.
I'm sick and tired of your logic!
We could use a little inspiration.
Strange.
Step by step, I've made
the correct and logical decisions.
And yet, two men have died.
And you've brought our furry friends down on us.
I do seem to have miscalculated regarding them
and inculcated resentment on your parts.
The sum of the parts cannot be greater than the whole.
Less analysis and more action--
That's what we need, Mr. Spock.
How much longer, Mr. Scott?
Another hour, maybe two.
It won't be long enough.
Doctor, a phaser can only drain so fast!
How long do you think those plates will hold out?
We've got to do something!
Well, you've got your hands full.
Captain's Log.: Stardate 2823. 1.
Our landing parties are on the surface of Taurus 2.
We continue to hope.
Instruments are slowly returning to an operable condition
as the ion storm slowly disperses.
On the ship,
we can only wait helplessly.
What word from the sensor section?
At last report--
I want to know now!
Yes, sir.
You have 2 hours and 43 minutes, Captain.
I'm aware of that.
But I shall continue to remind you.
You do that.
Sir, sensor section reporting.
Static interference still creating false images.
Estimates... 80% undependable.
What about radio communication?
Clearing slowly.
Still incapable of transmission or reception.
What do you intend to do?
Do? I intend to continue the search, inch by inch,
by candlelight, if necessary,
until the last possible moment.
If you'd keep your nose off my bridge,
I'd be thankful.
I'm sure the authorities will be pleased by your diligence.
I'm not sure they'll appreciate
the way you address a high commissioner.
I'm in command here, Mr. Ferris.
You are, Captain.
For another 2 hours and 42 minutes.
Mr. Scott, how much power
do we have left in the ship's batteries?
They're in good shape, but they won't launch us.
Will they electrify the ship's exterior?
That they will, Mr. Spock!
Get to the ship's center. Don't touch the plates. Be sure you're insulated.
Stand by.
Are you ready, Scott?
Ready, Mr. Spock.
All right. Go!
Again!
Again!
I daren't use any more
and be sure of ignition.
We've used enough. Drain the phasers.
Aye, aye.
It must've worked.
For the moment.
For the moment?
When they discover they're not seriously hurt, they'll be back.
Meanwhile, please check the aft compartments.
See if there's anything you can unload to lighten the ship.
Mr. Gaetano's body is back there.
It will be left behind.
Not without a burial.
I wouldn't recommend it.
The creatures won't be far away.
Not without a burial.
It would expose the crew to unnecessary peril.
I'll take that chance.
You see, Mr. Spock,
I would insist upon a burial
even if you were back there.
Mr. Boma.
I'm sick and tired of this machine!
That's enough!
Gentlemen.
All right, Mr. Boma,
you'll have your burial,
provided the creatures will permit it.
Captain Kirk, landing party number 2
has been beamed back aboard ship.
They have casualties-- one dead, two injured.
Put Lieutenant Kelowitz on visual.
Kelowitz, Captain.
Report.
We were attacked, Captain.
Huge, furr creatures.
I checked with astral anthropology,
and they're order 480-G, anthropoid,
similarto life forms discoveredon Hansen's Planet,
but much larger.
10... 12 feet in height.
Your casualties?
Ensign O'Nealgot a spear through the body
before we even knew they were around.
Lieutenant lmmamura has a dislocated shoulder and severe lacerations,
but he'll make it.
Captain, the creatures are all over the place.
If the Galileo is down on that planet, I--
Thank you, Lieutenant.
You better report to sick bay yourself.
Aye, aye, Captain.
Captain Kirk...
check your chronometer.
You'll see that it is 2823.8.
Your time is up.
But they're still out there.
So are the plague victims on New Paris.
I'm sorry, Captain. I now assume authority granted me under title 15,
galactic emergency procedures,
and I order you to abandon search.
The Columbus hasn't returned yet.
I have two search parties out.
You're procrastinating, Captain. You have your orders.
Recall your search parties and proceed to Makus 3 immediately.
[Radio Static]
Lieutenant...
order the transporter room
to immediately beam up the two search parties
from the surface.
Attempt to contact the Columbus.
I'm in partial contact now, sir.
Have them return immediately.
Mr. Sulu, prepare to abandon search.
Set course for Makus 3.
Captain's Log, supplement.
The search parties have returned to the ship,
and the Columbus is on its way back.
I have been compelled to abandon the search.
Captain,
the sensor section says the beams are working again.
What about the other systems?
No, sir. Too much interference.
Course set for Makus 3.
Stand ready, Mr. Sulu.
How long before the Columbus comes on board?
23 minutes, sir.
23 minutes.
Enterprise, this is Galileo.
Come in, please.
Enterprise!
Nothing, sir.
Just ionic interference.
That's it.
How about weight?
If we shed every ounce,
we might achieve orbit.
How long can we hold it?
A few hours, no longer.
But if we time it right, we can cut out of orbit
and save enough fuel for a controlled reentry.
To land here again.
Not an attractive possibility.
We have very few alternatives.
Dr. McCoy! Mr. Boma!
When can we lift off, Scott?
Maybe eight minutes if the weight's right.
Gentlemen,
The ship will lift off in exactly 10 minutes.
You have that long to bury Mr. Gaetano.
It appears to be clear outside for the moment.
I'll assist you.
Hurry.
The Columbus is aboard, sir.
The flight hatch is closed.
Transporter room reports
Iast of the landing parties have beamed safely up.
All systems report secured for warp factors.
Mr. Sulu, proceed on course for Makus 3...
at space normal speed.
Space normal, sir?
Those are my orders. Lieutenant Uhura,
order all sensor sections to direct beams aft.
Full function, continuous operation until further orders.
Yes, sir.
Get to the ship! Immediate lift off!
Aah!
No! Go back!
Lift off!
Go back!
No!
All right, All right! Go!
Go! Go!
Go!
Go, Scott!
Aye, aye, sir.
I told you to lift off!
Don't be a fool! We couldn't leave you out there!
Get us off, Scott!
We should be moving, but we're not.
Quite right, Mr. Scott.
They seem to be holding us down.
All systems are go, but we're not moving.
What are you doing?
Our boosters.
We won't hold orbit.
Would you rather stay here?
No, Mr. Spock.
We're moving!
Let it go!
We're off!
We have yet to achieve orbit,
nor can we maintain it long.
An hour from now we may be right back where we started from.
By coming after me,
you may well have destroyed your slim chance for survival.
The logical thing foryou to have done
was to have left me behind.
Remind me to tell you
that I'm sick and tired of your logic.
That is a most illogical attitude.
Orbit in one minute, Mr. Scott.
Fuel status?
15 pounds psi.
Approximately enough for one orbit, sir.
After that?
Tapping our boosters ended our last chance
for a soft landing.
You mean a burn-up?
The usual end of a decaying orbit.
I don't want to die up here.
Infinitely preferable to the kind of death
we'd have on the planet's surface.
I admire your ability to make so measured a choice.
You said a while ago that there were always alternatives.
Did l?
I may have been mistaken.
Well, at least I lived long enough to hear that.
Is there anything we can do?
The Enterprise is surely on course
for Makus 3 by now.
I, for one, do not believe in angels.
Well, Mr. Spock,
so ends your first command.
Yes.
My first command.
Orbit attitude, Mr. Spock.
With our present fuel,
that gives us about 45 minutes.
Galileo to Enterprise.
Galileo to Enterprise, come in, please.
Galileo to Enterprise,
come in, please.
Mr. Spock!
[Jet Surge]
What happened?
Hejettisoned the fuel and ignited it.
We need that fuel to maintain orbit.
Are you crazy?
Perhaps, Mr. Boma.
How long do we have?
The orbit will start decaying
as soon as the fuel's exhausted.
Say six minutes.
[Voices On Radio Transmission]
Forward scanner to bridge,
status report.
Section on alert--
Captain, there's something there on the screen,
at Taurus 2.
Sensors... a meteorite?
No. It's holding a lateral line.
There it is again. Holding steady, Captain.
180 degrees about, Mr. Sulu.
Lieutenant Uhura, contact transporter room.
All beams ready.
Full normal speed.
A distress signal?
It's like sending up a flare.
Mr. Spock...
that was a good gamble.
Perhaps it was worth it.
No one out there to see it.
Orbit decaying, Mr. Spock.
1 0 seconds to atmosphere.
It may be the last action you'll ever take, Mr. Spock,
but it was all human.
Totally illogical.
There was no chance.
That's exactly what I mean.
It's getting hot.
Transporters locked in, sir.
Activate beams.
[Coughing]
Whatever it was, Captain,
it just burned up in the atmosphere.
[Beeping]
Captain, transporter room just beamed up five persons.
Alive and well.
Mr. Sulu,
proceed on course to Makus 3.
Ahead warp factor 1 .
Aye, aye, sir.
Warp factor 1 .
Uh, Mr. Spock,
there's really something I don't understand about all of this.
And maybe you can explain it to me. Logically, of course.
When you jettisoned the fuel and ignited it,
you knew there was virtually no chance of it being seen,
yet you did it anyhow.
That would seem to be an act of desperation.
Quite correct.
We all know, and I'm sure the doctor agrees,
that desperation is a highly emotional state of mind.
How does your well-known logic explain that?
Quite simply, Captain.
I examined the problem from all angles,
and it was plainly hopeless.
Logic informed me that, under the circumstances,
the only possible action would have to be one of desperation.
Logical decision, logically arrived at.
Aha, ha ha.
I see.
You mean you reasoned
that it was time for an emotional outburst.
Well, I...
wouldn't put it in exactly those terms, Captain, but...
those are essentially the facts.
You're not going to admit
that for the first time in your life,
you committed a purely human, emotional act?
No, sir.
[Chuckling]
Mr. Spock,
you're a stubborn man.
Yes, sir.
