medical expertise.
Excuse me.
Green-blooded hobgoblin.
Hello!
What?
You realise how unacceptable this is?
-Fascinating.
-What?
Okay, I'm sure you're just
doing your job,
but could you not have come
a wee bit sooner?
Six months I've been here,
living off Starfleet protein nibs
and the promise of a good meal!
And I know exactly
what's going on here, okay?
Punishment, isn't it? Ongoing.
For something
that was clearly an accident.
-You are Montgomery Scott.
-You know him?
Aye, that's me. You're in the right place.
Unless there's another hardworking,
equally starved Starfleet officer around.
-Me.
-Get aff! Shut up!
You don't eat anything!
You can eat, like, a bean,
and you're done.
I'm talking about food. Real food.
But you're here now, so thank you.
Where is it?
You are, in fact, the Mr Scott
who postulated
the theory of transwarp beaming.
That's what I'm talking about.
How do you think I wound up here?
I had a little debate with my instructor
on the issue of relativistic physics
and how it pertains to subspace travel.
He seemed to think that the range of
transporting something like a grapefruit
was limited to about 100 miles.
I told him that I could not only
beam a grapefruit from one planet
to the adjacent planet
in the same system,
which is easy, by the way,
I could do it with a life-form.
So, I tested it on Admiral Archer's
prize beagle.
-I know that dog. What happened to it?
-I'll tell you when it reappears.
I don't know. I do feel guilty about that.
What if I told you
that your transwarp theory was correct,
that it is indeed possible to beam onto
a ship that is travelling at warp speed?
I think if that equation had been
discovered, I'd have heard about it.
The reason you haven't heard of it,
Mr Scott,
is because you haven't discovered it yet.
-Are you from the future?
-Yeah, he is. I'm not.
Well, that's brilliant.
Do they still have sandwiches there?
Well, she's a wee bit dodgy.
Shield emitters are totally banjaxed,
as well as a few other things.
On youse go.
So the Enterprise has had
its maiden voyage, has it?
She is one well-endowed lady.
I'd like to get my hands
on her ample nacelles,
if you'll pardon
the engineering parlance.
Except, the thing is,
even if I believed you, right,
where you're from, what I've done,
which I don't, by the way,
you're still talking about
beaming aboard the Enterprise
while she's travelling faster than light
without a proper receiving pad.
Get off there! It's not a climbing frame.
The notion of transwarp beaming is like
trying to hit a bullet with a smaller bullet
whilst wearing a blindfold,
riding a horse.
What's that?
Your equation
for achieving transwarp beaming.
Get out of it.
Imagine that!
It never occurred to me to think of space
as the thing that was moving.
You're coming with us, right?
-No, Jim. That is not my destiny.
-Your...
He... The other Spock
is not gonna believe me.
Only you can explain
what the hell's happened.
Under no circumstances
can he be made aware of my existence.
You must promise me this.
You're telling me I can't tell you
that I'm following your own orders?
-Why not? What happens?
-Jim, this is one rule you cannot break.
To stop Nero, you alone
must take command of your ship.
-How? Over your dead body?
-Preferably not.
However, there is
Starfleet Regulation 619.
Six-one-nine states
that any command officer
who's emotionally compromised
by the mission at hand
must resign said command.
So, you're saying that I have
to emotionally compromise you guys.
Jim, I just lost my planet.
I can tell you,
I am emotionally compromised.
What you must do is get me to show it.
Aye, then, laddie.
Live or die. Let's get this over with.
No, go. You cannae come with me.
Go on.
You know, coming back in time,
changing history,
that's cheating.
A trick I learned from an old friend.
Live long and prosper.
Mr Scott!
Mr Scott, can you hear me?
Hold