All language subtitles for Star Trek The Original Series [1x14] - The Galileo Seven

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.

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.