Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Ahead slow. Steer a course around it, Mr. Sulu.
your systems are now open.
In some manner, he was reminiscent of my father.
A puppet of some kind.
Quite the contrary.
Reducing to warp 2, sir.
All decks prepare to better reaction time on second simulated attack.
If anyone's interested, 30 seconds.
- he'll expect a report... - The cube's range and position.
Watch and regulations and orders, what do they mean?
What am I, a doctor or a moon-shuttle conductor?
Our vessel was blocked, and when we attempted to disengage...
You now have two minutes.
The cube has been destroyed. Ship's damage, minor.
Plotted. Laid in, sir.
Distance from us, 1,593 meters. Position constant.
Coming over my navigation beam.
your vessel will be destroyed immediately.
Hey, did you just fart?
- I'll buy speculation. - I'd sell it if I had any.
What's the matter, Jim, don't you trust yourself?
Lock phasers on target.
Flypaper.
It is a material and a device which prevents attack on us.
Tractor beam again.
Phaser crew, stand ready.
- Jim, don't you think..? - What's the mission
regarding your vessel.
I had to discover your real intentions.
- It'll do you good. - You're killing me.
Your timing is lousy, Jim.
If he got a signal through to the mothership...
or some such beliefs which comfort you.
- Radiation nearing the tolerance level. - Still coming. Gaining on us.
Nine, eight,
Your weight was up a couple of pounds, remember?
I'm especially worried about Bailey.
This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.
I regret that I can find no other logical alternative.