apparently
uninhabited,
incredibly beautiful city
on the planet of Scalos.
Captain Kirk
and a landing party
have beamed down
to investigate.
Kirk to Enterprise.
What do your
sensors read?
They register something, sir, but
I'm blessed if I can figure out what.
- That's fine.
- I can't get a fix on it.
Sensors don't
pinpoint a location.
We may have
a malfunction.
- I'll check circuits.
- You do that.
Lieutenant Uhura, does the location
of the distress call
correspond with
this area exactly?
Yes, sir.
I am still
receiving visual contact.
I can see them,
but not you.
[Kirk]
Check coordinates.
Is it the same area?
Coordinates
correspond, Captain.
Well, apart from
the landing party,
there's no one here.
There are no Scalosians.
The distress call
is very strong, Captain.
They are pleading for
immediate assistance.
Check circuits for malfunctions.
Kirk out.
It must be a malfunction.
This is a barren world.
There's hardly any vegetation,
no apparent animal life.
After analysis,
we should have some explanation.
But there is
an insect life.
My tricorder
doesn't register it.
It registers in my ears.
[High-Pitched Tone]
Nothing, Mr. Spock?
Evidently,
a civilization of high order,
rating number 7 on
the industrial scale,
humanoid in appearance,
according to the paintings.
An abundance
of literature,
which I shall have translated
and processed.
Certain structures
hold evidence
of recent occupancy
while others
are apparently long abandoned.
No sign of present life?
Instrument readings
indicate life-form,
but of a highly unusual
and intermittent nature.
They have no discernible form
or location.
A most puzzling phenomenon,
Captain.
I shall have to
study it further.
We saw something
on the screen.
Lieutenant Uhura
is still getting a distress call.
What happened?
Unknown at present,
Captain.
I want you
to run a survey--
a complete survey
of the planet
using all ship's
available instruments.
Compton!
What happened?
I was looking at him.
I was looking right at him,
and he--
and he just wasn't there!
Space--
the final frontier.
These are the voyages
of the star ship Enterprise.
Its five-year mission--
to explore
strange new worlds...
to seek out new life
and new civilizations...
to boldly go where
no man has gone before.
Lieutenant Uhura,
start a replay of the distress call.
Are the transporter controls
functioning now?
Aye, sir.
Is Mr. Spock still down there?
He's in Sick Bay.
Dr. McCoy's running a check
on the landing party.
What is it, Lieutenant?
Malfunction, sir.
Mr. Sulu,
I would like--
Captain.
It corrected itself.
Captain,
there's some trouble
on the hangar deck.
The controls are frozen.
Have repair crews
been assigned?
Yes, sir.
The tape is ready, sir.
Play it.
To any and all
space travellers
passing within range
of the planet Scalos,
I send you an urgent appeal
for help.
My comrades and I
are the last surviving members
of what was once
a thriving civilization.
Those of us who are left
have taken shelter
in this area.
We have no explanation for
what has been happening to us.
Our number is now five.
We were once a nation
of 900,000.
Freeze it.
It is logical to assume
that this distress call
was pre-recorded.
What we received
was evidently a delayed taped message.
That would
explain our continuing to receive it
while sensors
didn't pick them up.
Nevertheless,
when we beamed down,
we couldn't find these people.
They were there.
Now they're not,
nor is Crewman Compton.
It would seem that
some force or agent
only partially discernible
to our instruments
may have been responsible.
Mr. Sulu, I want the ship
on standby alert
while we continue
the investigation.
Sir, now I have readings
that deflectors are inoperative.
The controls are frozen.
Scotty, assist.
Ever since we beamed up
from Scalos,
we've had a series
of malfunctions.
I want an investigation
and an