ship.
Engineering has been
taken over by Klingons
who have cut off
life-support systems.
Mr. Sulu, get down
to emergency manual control.
Try to protect
our life-support circuits
and auxiliary power.
Aye, Captain.
Sir. Chekov was right,
Captain.
Scotty, I'm glad
you've come.
We should have left those fuzz-faced
goons in the transporter.
That's right
where they belong!
Scotty.
Non-existence!
Now they can study
the Enterprise,
add our technology
to theirs,
change the balance
of power.
You've jeopardized
the Federation!
Scotty.
Easy, Mr. Scott.
Keep your Vulcan hands
off me.
Just keep away!
Your feelings
might be hurt,
you green-blooded
half-breed!
May I say that I have not thoroughly
enjoyed serving with humans?
I find their illogic
and foolish emotions
a constant irritant.
Then transfer out! Freak!
Gentlemen!
Spock!
Scotty.
Spock. Spock!
Stop it!
You're half human!
What are we saying?
What are we doing
to each other?
Fascinating.
A result of stress?
We've been under
stress before.
It's never set us
at each other's
throats.
But this is war.
There isn't any war!
Or is there?
Have we forgotten
how to defend ourselves?
Scotty.
What's happening
to us?
We've been trained
to think
in other terms
than war.
We've been trained to fight
its causes, if necessary.
Then why are
we behaving
like a group
of savages?
Look at me.
Look at me.
Two forces
aboard this ship,
each of them
equally armed.
Has a war been
staged for us,
complete with weapons
and ideology
and patriotic
drum beating?
Even...
Spock.
Even...
race hatred?
Recent events would
seem to be directed
toward a magnification
of the basic hostilities
between humans
and Klingons.
Apparently, it is by design
that we fight.
We seem to be pawns.
But what's the game?
And whose?
And what are
the rules?
It is most urgent
that we locate
the alien entity immediately
and determine its motives
and a method for halting
its activities.
Without sensors?
All our power down?
This thing
could go anywhere.
Yes.
Mr. Sulu, report.
No good, Captain.
Circuits are in,
but systems just
aren't responding.
We're getting something.
Aye, Captain.
Power and life-support
restored.
Remote's on standby.
Good work.
But, Captain,
I didn't do it.
Everything just
came on by itself.
Their life-support systems
have resumed.
Sensors may be operating.
Start scanning.
Let's find that alien.
Holding steady.
Cause them to be
unsteady.
They appear to be controlled
from another location.
Also unable to affect
ship's course
for return to our empire.
One of Kirk's tricks.
Could he bypass
this circuit?
What power is it that
supports our battle,
yet starves our victory?
Power.
Interrupt it
at their main
life-support couplings.
Where?
Number six deck.
Come.
Alien detected
in the engineering section,
near reactor number three.
Let's go.
[Door Slides Open]
[Door Slides Closed]
You don't die yet.
You're not human...
but you're very beautiful.
Very...
beautiful.
Chekov!
Jim, he's not responsible.
What have I done?
There's a-an alien entity
aboard the ship.
It's forcing us to fight.
We don't know what
its motive is.
We're trying to find out.
You must help us.
Take me to Kang.
A temporary truce,
that's all I ask.
Spock, take her.
Chekov.
Chekov.
Is this what's
in store for us,
from here on in?
Violence,
hatred.
Brain waves show
almost paranoid mania.
What happened?
He lost control.
So did l.
We're becoming
animal warriors.
Let's go, Spock.
Orderly.
Jim.
Johnson's heart wound
is almost healed.
Same with the other
casualties.
Sword wounds
in the vital organs,
massive trauma,
shock--
They're all healing
at a fantastic rate.
It would appear that the entity
wants us alive.
Why? So we can fight
and fight and keep
coming back for more
like some bloody coliseum?
What's next,
the roar of crowds?
Perhaps human
and Klingon psychologies