Star Trek

- Phaser banks standing by, sir. - Range 43,000 and closing.

- What do you read, Mr. Spock? - Configuration unidentified.

Ion propulsion, high velocity, though of a unique technology.

- Any contact, lieutenant? - Beaming on all frequencies, sir.

All languages have been attempted. No response.

Now using standard interstellar symbols.

- Keep trying. - Aye, sir.

- Magnification ten, Mr. Chekov. - Aye, sir.

Thirty-eight thousand and closing.

- Well, Scotty? - Beats me, but isn't she a beauty?

- Interesting design. - I've never seen anything like her.

And ion propulsion, at that.

They could teach us a thing or two.

- Life forms, Mr. Spock? - One. Humanoid or similar.

Low level of activity. Life-support systems functioning.

Interior atmosphere: Conventional nitrogen-oxygen.

Instruments indicate a transferral beam

emanating from the area of the humanoid life form.

Directed at what?

Directed at the Bridge of the Enterprise.

- Security guard. - Security guard to the Bridge.

I'm Captain James Kirk. This is the starship Enterprise.

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 civilisations,

to boldly go where no man has gone before.

- What happened? - Helm status, Mr. Sulu.

No change from last reading, sir.

Condition reports from all decks, lieutenant.

- Aye, sir. All decks... - Spock. Where's Spock?

- Jim? Jim? - Yes, what is it?

You'd better come to Sickbay right now.

All right. On my way.

Deck 5. Personnel, no damage.

Now.

Functioning.

My God.

- Spock. What happened? - I found him on the table.

- Like this? - No, not like this.

- What happened? - I don't know.

You've got him on complete life support. Was he dead?

He was worse than dead.

- What do you mean? - Jim...

Come on, Bones. What's the mystery?

- His brain is gone. - His what?

It's been removed surgically.

How could he survive?

It's the greatest technical job I've ever seen.

Every nerve ending of the brain must have been neatly sealed.

Nothing ripped, nothing torn.

No bleeding. It's a medical miracle.

If the brain is missing, then Spock is dying.

No.

That incredible Vulcan physique hung on till the life-support cycle took over.

His body lives. The autonomic functions continue.

But there is no mind.

- That girl. - Aye.

- What girl? - From that ship.

She took it.

I don't know why or where, but she must have taken it.

Bones, how long can you keep him functioning?

- I can't give you any guarantee. - That's not good enough, doctor.

If it happened to any of us, I would say indefinitely.

But Vulcan physiology limits what I can do.

Spock's body is much more dependent

upon that tremendous brain for life support.

Then we'll have to take him with us.

- Take him where? - In search of his brain, doctor.

From what you say, the moment we find it,

we must restore it to his body or we lose him.

Jim...

Where are you going to look?

In this whole galaxy, where are you going to look for Spock's brain?

How are you going to find it?

- I'll find it. - Even if you do, I can't restore it.

I don't have the medical technique.

It was taken out. It can be put back in.

But I don't know how.

The thief that took it has the knowledge.

I'll force it out of her.

If you don't find it in 24 hours, you'd better forget the whole thing, Jim.

You and Scotty, have Spock ready.

I've got it again, sir. An ion trail that's from that ship of hers, all right.

Where does the trail lead, Mr. Chekov?

- System Sigma Draconis. - Lock on, Mr. Sulu.

Maximum speed.

Warp 6.

- No question about the trail? - No mistake, sir.

Captain's log, star date 5431.4.

For 15 hours and 20 minutes, we have been following the ion trail

of the spaceship that has Spock's brain.

Time left to us: Eight hours and 40 minutes.

- Captain, I've lost the trail. - All scanners, extreme sweep.

Aye, sir.

- Well? - Nothing, sir.

No signal at all, captain.

- It's gone, sir. A sudden deaction shift. - We've lost her trail.

But she went into that system.

Mr. Chekov, put a schematic of Sigma Draconis on the screen.

Aye, captain.

Readout, Mr. Chekov?

Sun spectral type, Gamma 9.

Nine planets, three of them Class-M,

possessing sapient life according to reports and long-range scanning.

She was breathing our air. She must have gone to one of them.

Show us the three Class-M planets, Mr. Chekov.

The one on the left, number III, rates letter B on the industrial scale.

Earth equivalent, approximately 1485.

Yes, sir. Second planet, Class-M, number IV, rates letter G.

The year 2030.

But that ship, captain, either was many years ahead of us

or it was the most incredible design fluke in history.

- Third Class-M planet, Mr. Chekov? - Number VI.

No sign of industrial development.

At last report, in a glacial age.

Sapient life plentiful, but on a most primitive level.

As I understand you, Mr. Chekov,

- there are three Class-M planets. - Yes, sir.

Not one of which is capable of launching an interstellar flight.

- No, sir. - Yet one of them accomplished it.

- Yes, sir. - Thank you, Mr. Chekov.

Captain, I'm picking up high energy generation on planet VI.

- That's the primitive glaciated planet. - Yes, sir.

- The source, lieutenant? - It could be natural.

Volcanic activity, steam, any of a number of causes.

But it's very regular.

What do your surface readings show, Mr. Chekov?

No sign of organised civilisation.

Primitive humanoids picked up at irregular intervals.

With regular pulsations of generated energy?

I can't explain it, sir.

I can't afford to guess wrong.

Better choose the right planet, get there, find the brain.

Eight hours and 35 minutes.

- Recommendations, Mr. Chekov? - Sigma Draconis III.

- It's closest, heaviest population. - But a technological rating of only 3.

They couldn't possibly have put that ship we saw into space.

None of these planets could.

I say Planet IV, captain.

At least Planet IV is ahead of Ill technologically.

But advanced ion propulsion is beyond even our capabilities.

It would be a miracle if they had developed it.

What would they want with his brain?

What would they want with Mr. Spock's brain? What use is it?

- Why do they want it? - Yes, why would they want it?

Eight hours and 34 minutes.

Planet VI is glaciated, you say?

For several thousand years at least. Only the tropical zone is ice-free.

But the energy. Regular. It's there.

- It's real. - Yes, sir.

It doesn't make sense, but it's there.

Have the Transporter Room stand by.

I'm taking a landing party down to Planet VI.

Aye, aye, sir.

A hunch, captain?

A hunch, Mr. Sulu.

But if you guess wrong, captain?

If I guess wrong, Mr. Spock is dead.

Spock will die.

Captain's log, star date 4351.5.

We are beaming down to a primitive glaciated planet

in the Sigma Draconis star system.

Time left to us to find Spock's brain: eight hours and 29 minutes.

Suit temperatures are 72.

Life-form readings, Mr. Spock? Mr. Scott?

Scattered, widely spaced. Humanoid, all right. On the large side.

Watch out. We know their development is primitive.

Aye.

Readout, Mr. Chekov?

No structures, captain. No mechanised objects that I can read.

No surface consumption, no generation of energy.

Atmosphere is perfectly all right, of course.

Temperature, a high maximum of 40. Liveable.

You have a thick skin.

Captain!

There's someone, something out there in the rocks.

- Five of them. Humanoid. Large. - Phasers on stun.

I want them conscious.

Fire only on my signal.

Flank out.

Chekov.

We mean you no harm. We're not your enemies, we're your friends.

We only wish to talk to you.

You are not the others?

No. We come from a far place.

We are men.

- Men? - Like yourselves.

You are small, like the others.

- Who are the others? - Givers of pain.

And delight.

Do they live here with you?

No. They come. They give pain and delight.

- Do they come from the sky? - They are here.

You will see.

The others will come for you.

They come for all like us.

Do they come for your women as well?

- Women? - The female of your kind.

Your words say nothing.