Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Grant looked up,
Bones.
Let the Klingons and the Earthmen offer us amusement.
Vegetation, captain. Evidently there's water nearby.
You've got one of those magnesite-nitron tablets in your kit.
We were diverted from the planet.
Dr. McCoy, come in please.
Will you do the same?
Is the new leader of the Ten Tribes afraid?
- Estimating the planet? - Thirty-one minutes, sir.
- What do you think, Spock? - I think you're both gonna be
Let me take this, Jim.
It's a Klingon vessel attacking.
You and your primitive knives and your weapons!
The next man who raises a weapon destroys all of you.
At best a freighter might travel warp two.
Release him.
Or it could be an authentic distress call.
Now in standard orbit, sir. I've pinpointed their encampment below.
An obscure Earth dialect, Mr. Spock.
- A Klingon! - Grant, no!
It is mine. It is..."
Let me see that arm.
We have fled into the hills, yet we know the Capellans will eventually find us
insufferably pleased with yourselves for at least a month, sir.
The Earthmen have different customs.
It's just at the edge of our sensor range, sir.
Earthmen have promised to teach the youth of your tribes many things.
Yes, you're quite right, Mr. Spock.
If you lead these people now, be certain you make the right decisions.
Strange hand.