Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I am Supervisor 194, code name Gary Seven.
Using the light-speed breakaway factor,
Altitude: 300 miles,
Purpose: To maintain balance of power.
They can't dock you if they don't know you're late.
Mr. Seven. Mr. Seven, help! Help!
Second stage detaching.
Attention. Stand by for launch-area clearance.
- Just like yard dogs, that kind of thing. - Yeah?
There are only seconds. I'll need time to set it.
using our ship's deflector shields to remain unobserved.
Must have intercepted the Enterprise trying to beam me onboard.
I'm going as fast as I can.
Navigation report.
or even be certain if we should.
Not even Spock's Vulcan neck-pinch could stop him.
Yes, I think we could say that.
All systems clear. All systems clear.
- Earth. - That's impossible.
Analysis correct. Earth situation similar.
Captain, can you read me?
With 348?
Fifty-five seconds to impact.
Stand by. I'm gonna beam him up.
Stand by on destruct. Stand by to transmit destruct signal.
Computer, I caution you. I have little love for Beta 5 snobbery.
Retaliatory strike ordered on warhead impact.
- Altitude: 450 miles. - Spock.
One hundred forty. One hundred thirty.
Begin malfunction of third stage.
Lock the elevator at the top, lieutenant. Time to get out of here.
Spock!
I have never felt so helpless.
Attention. Twenty minutes to launch.
Count by ten.
Simply begin search immediately.
You're through monkeying around with my country's rocket!
- Live long and prosper, Mr. Seven. - The same to you, Miss Lincoln.
If I could spot him, I could lock on and beam him up.
Rocket veering from planned course.