Star Trek: Prodigy (2021–…): Season 1, Episode 13 - All the World's a Stage - full transcript
The crew answers a distress call to find a colony trapped in Starfleet's past.
While you were delirious,
you muttered a word.
"Pro to star."
Tell me everything you can.
The ship, they took it.
Stole my daughter from me.
That doesn't sound
like Captain Chakotay.
Mm, memory loss.
Must be a side effect
of whatever trauma
he experienced.
Tell us,
have you seen this man?
Yes.
He was taken prisoner,
but... but my mind is in pieces.
I... I can't remember.
The mission!
I have to save them!
The atrocities!
He's going
into post-neural shock.
The intrusion!
What is it? What's wrong?
Enough questions.
He needs rest.
Admiral,
we found an empty escape pod
from the destroyed
relay station.
Its log shows it was launched
by Barniss Frex.
- Where is he?
Rescued
by an unidentified vessel.
We're tracking
its warp signature.
Find him.
Whomever stole the "Pro to star"
did this to our guest
and destroyed that station.
This is no longer
a rescue mission.
It's a manhunt.
Captain's Log.
Star date 61296.9.
One minute, we were full
of hope to join Star fleet.
- We're ready?
- Then poof...
Yeah.
- That dream is dead...
- Let's go.
Because our ship
has a weapon
that'll wipe the Federation
off the galactic map.
Pog's not used to a problem
he can't fix.
We tried phasers,
transporters.
We can't get rid of it.
It just adapts.
Stupid futuristic weaponry.
Ahh! Ahh!
Thanks to Zero,
we know even opening a hail
to Star fleet
could infect their systems.
Despite this setback,
we decided as long
as we have the "Pro to star,"
we can still help others,
which has led us
to a mysterious M-Class planet
in need of help.
Any updates on why
the distress signal was sent,
Jane way?
- I'm in the dark.
There's a subspace
distortion field
interfering with our systems.
But I do detect life signs.
Then we should beam down
and see if we...
Who wants help
from a bunch of losers
who can't even help themselves?
As long as we keep
that thing below deck
far from Star fleet, we're good.
Now where's Rok?
Come on, Murf.
I know you're feeling bad,
but you gotta eat something.
I wish I knew what's wrong.
He's probably just
under the weather.
I'd venture more than
anything, he needs rest.
Why don't you stay here
with Murf?
We'll call if we need you.
Thanks, guys.
Jankom's feeling
a tiny tickle in his throat.
Cough, cough, cough.
Maybe Pog will sit this one
out too.
Nice try.
You're coming with us.
Uh-oh.
Okay then, four to beam down.
Be careful down there.
Oh, oh!
Well, everything looks good.
No distress here,
so beam us back up, baby.
Was it just me,
or did the be a my part
take longer than usual?
Must be the interference.
I can barely get a reading.
Hm, two bio-signatures.
Hmm.
Ahh!
Just ahead.
Look out!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
we come in peace!
Stand down, Sool'U.
Stand down.
It's a Star-Flight
landing party.
They've finally arrived.
I am James'T.
This is Sool'U.
- Star-Flight?
- Uh...
Jankom knew
this was a bad idea.
Excuse us a second.
Jane way.
I thought we were supposed
to keep our ship away
from Star fleet.
So why am I looking at them?
That's impossible.
While Captains James T. Kirk
and Hikaru Sulu
are Star fleet legends,
no Federation ship's
been near this sector
in over 100 years.
And there's no record
of First Contact.
They're not Star fleet.
You have answered The Call.
Oh,
you mean the distress call.
The Call of En Son.
A day we feared
would never come,
but you're here.
Here at last.
- Indeed.
We must inform
the Star-Flight Command.
Live Logs and Proper.
Star-Flight.
Come in, Star-Flight.
Fed'ration has arrived.
Hmm.
Welcome,
my Fed'ration brethren,
to New Enda-Prize.
Whoa, it's incredible.
It's them.
- Look.
- Captain.
Look, look!
I... I... I can't believe it.
Is it them?
The prophecies were true.
Live Logs and Proper.
Sir. Sir.
- Is this place for real?
- Real?
It's like they're playing
make-believe.
Actually,
I sense no deception from them.
Though a bit unorthodox,
they truly believe themselves
to be Star fleet.
Can you believe
these dum-dums?
Playing dress up,
pretending to be Federation?
Yeah, who are they fooling?
Did you find
our missing cadet?
No, my good Dr. Boons.
But look.
Star-Flight has come to aid us.
They are Star-Flight?
Well, they answered The Call.
You must hear the Logs.
We've stayed prepared
and kept them word-for-word,
just as our forefathers did.
Sool'U, we must play the Logs!
Everyone, to the Bridge!
- Aye, aye, sir.
- Aye.
Captain's Log.
Star date: Many moons ago.
A great ship
flew through the cosmos,
bearing heroes of legend.
Heroes of legend.
Among them,
James'T the Warrior,
for whom I was named,
and Sprok, well-known
for his words so wise.
Most illogical.
But then...
They found...
Our world.
There are people below
who need us,
but we cannot intervene.
They would need a hero.
- Me!
- Me!
- Me!
- Me!
A miracle worker.
I am En Son of Star-Flight
Enda-Prize,
Bearer of Crimson,
bravest among us.
I will go to save them.
- What now?
Who's this guy?
En Son fell from the stars,
bringing gifts of knowledge
and wonder with him.
He offered a way of peace.
The way of Star-Flight.
But he also brought a warning.
A great evil
has followed me here.
Do not enter the woods
where it lurks
or your land will be cursed
by The Gallows!
The Gallows!
- The Gallows.
- The Gallows?
A few foolish warriors
doubted En Son's warning
and went to face The Gallows...
Ahh!
- But no one...
- Oh, no!
Ever returned.
A sickness came
to our village.
Proof we should have listened.
En Son spent
his final months here
teaching us what he could
so we might survive the curse
when he was gone.
And with his final breath,
En Son promised that one day...
Star-Flight will come
and rid us of the evil.
These are my dying words.
Oh.
For generations,
we've waited.
But now the day has come.
You have arrived!
Uh...
Dal, where are you going?
If these people
sent a distress signal,
they obviously need our help.
Do they?
Clearly, some Star fleet guy
landed here a hundred years ago
and they weren't ready
for First Contact.
These people are living a lie
and don't even know it.
Just like us.
The Gallows.
Cadet Huur'A.
I saw it.
This is not part of the play.
I saw it.
I saw The Gallows.
It had two glowing eyes,
roaring smoke,
breathing fire and death.
Okay, Pog's heard enough.
Adventure's over.
Back to the ship we go.
We're not going anywhere.
May I ask
what is afflicting her?
Didn't you hear, man?
The Gallows!
The curse
that poisons our land.
But curses aren't real.
That looks real to me.
What... what is that?
Oh, no.
What?
It can't be real.
Get it off of me.
I'm afraid it's quite real.
But with all this interference,
I cannot determine the cause.
'Cause it's evil!
That's why.
'Cause it's evil!
I could synthesize a cure,
but not without knowing
the illness I'm curing.
We must go to the source.
We need to find The Gallows.
This won't hurt.
I just need one little sample.
Ew! Now what's happening?
What's wrong, Murf?
What's happening to you?
Gwyn
to Rok-Tahk and Jane way.
We have a dire situation.
We're here. Report.
We need you, Rok,
to bring down EV suits
and medical supplies STAT.
- What's wrong?
- It's Dal.
Hurry!
- Now Dal is sick?
I'm on my way.
Jane way,
take good care of Murf.
Of course.
I'll do what I can.
There must be a
scientific explanation, right?
That's what we're here
to find out.
Stay close, kid.
There's curses.
Why didn't you heed
En Son's warnings?
I believe in Star-Flight,
and Son told us
to bravely explore
to help the helpless.
I know.
You made Star-Flight proud.
Ugh.
Z, have you ever synthesized
an antidote?
No,
but I've skimmed the manual.
Great, my survival's riding
on chasing down a curse,
and my doctor's making it up
on the fly.
I sense you are afraid,
but I am doing everything
in my power.
Lashing out will not improve
your situation.
Try to relax.
- Relax?
My skin's itching like...
What are we doing here?
None of us are Star fleet
and people are really sick.
Why did we think we could help?
We're just as crazy as...
That feels nice.
Wood Leech.
When the sickness began,
we found their secretions
reduce the angiodemic
immune response.
I know
what you must think of us...
Our facility's poor,
our knowledge
woefully incomplete.
En Son told my ancestors
of your Prime Directive,
how we weren't ready
for your technology or ideas.
We know we're not Star-Flight,
but you don't need a real ship
to believe
in what it stands for.
What about you?
Do you believe, Dal R'El?
Look at the dead trees.
Whatever's poisoning
the land, it's close.
What was that?
Even I'm beginning to worry.
Oh, so... so... so
this is where she saw the...
Oh, no!
Uh, why are we walking
towards it?
Jankom Pog is afraid!
I've learned never
to fear the truth.
Ahh!
Ahh, ahh... ahh?
It's The Gallows!
Not Gallows.
"Galileo."
It's not just a legend.
What's a 23rd century
class F shuttle craft
doing down here?
I can't get a reading.
There's too much
subspatial interference.
Like the kind you get
from a broken warp engine.
Oh!
It's leaking plasma?
Great!
Ahh, ahh!
This thing's been leaking
for a hundred years.
These are dilithium crystals.
The shuttle plasma
must be chain-reacting
with explosive minerals
in the rock.
That's what's poisoning
the land.
Gwyn to Zero.
We found the cause
of the sickness.
Hello?
Do you read me?
It won't be able
to get through.
This is what's causing
the subspatial interference.
We have to get through.
Zero can't make an antidote
unless they know
what's making them sick.
Jankom's been studying
his share
of 23rd century
Star fleet ships,
and that tin can is equipped
with a duotronic comm relay.
If anyone steps foot
on this shuttle and it falls,
this entire place blows.
And honestly,
if we come across
one more thing Pog can't fix,
then Pog can't call himself
an engineer.
Jankom, what are you doing?
If this thing goes sideways,
promise me a royal...
Tellarite...
Funeral!
But what about your tools?
They're all up here.
Stay with me, Dal.
Zero, we're losing them.
Jankom to "Pro to star."
Zero? Anybody?
Am I holding the right button?
Mr. Pog? Is that you?
We're trapped in a cave,
surrounded by dilithium.
We have toxic runoff!
We don't have much time.
There's plasma everywhere.
Dilithium reaction.
Toxic runoff
from shuttle plasma.
That should be enough
to synthesize an antidote.
The antidote's ready.
Quickly!
I don't know what I'm doing!
I mean, I'm alive!
- Dal!
- What's going on?
Are you okay?
- The roof's coming down.
Oh, we won't last much longer!
Get us outta here!
- Jane way!
Beam them out of there now!
Can't get a lock from here.
We need to be closer
to get a read on them,
but being that close
to the distortion radius
will knock out our autopilot
and yours truly.
So we'd have to fly
in manually?
We're down three crew members.
Hmm, maybe not.
Wow.
My, my.
Welcome
to the USS "Pro to star."
Are you sure about this?
They want to be Star fleet.
But can they command
a starship?
Trust me.
You just have to believe.
They're a bit retro.
Got anything more old school?
Computer, load Constitution
class holo-console,
mid-23rd century.
Translate command inputs
to the "Pro to star's" helm.
- Ho, ho.
- Whoa.
- Incredible.
- This I know.
Amazing.
I can work with this.
Let's go get our friends
out of that cave.
Impulse power.
- Aye, aye, Captain.
Pulse power.
It's starting to collapse!
Get into the shuttle!
This is Ensign Garrovick
of the USS "Enterprise."
This'll be my final call
to Star fleet...
Hoping you'll come,
though I've long given up
that anyone'll hear it.
Hope's a funny thing,
isn't it?
I tried to do my duty,
salvaged what I could
from the wreck,
went to save the locals
from the danger.
Shields up.
Before I fell
to my injuries.
But then, they welcomed me,
healed me,
gave me hope when I had none.
In the end,
they were the ones
who saved me.
Whoa!
Beam them up.
Locking on.
- Whoa!
- Ahh!
Get us outta here.
Captain's Log, Supplemental.
People can surprise you
sometimes.
It seems we met a new chapter
of Star fleet after all.
Sure,
they got a few things wrong,
but they got
a few things right.
Jane way says the rules about
Second Contact
are a bit fuzzy,
so it's up to them
on how they wanna evolve.
If these Enderprizians
can do so much
without even a ship
to call their own,
maybe we can too.
Look out!
If we can't take the ship
to Star fleet,
we'll find another way
without the "Pro to star."
♪ Murf ♪
Feeling better, buddy?
Murf?
Whoa.
Murf?
What's happening to you?
you muttered a word.
"Pro to star."
Tell me everything you can.
The ship, they took it.
Stole my daughter from me.
That doesn't sound
like Captain Chakotay.
Mm, memory loss.
Must be a side effect
of whatever trauma
he experienced.
Tell us,
have you seen this man?
Yes.
He was taken prisoner,
but... but my mind is in pieces.
I... I can't remember.
The mission!
I have to save them!
The atrocities!
He's going
into post-neural shock.
The intrusion!
What is it? What's wrong?
Enough questions.
He needs rest.
Admiral,
we found an empty escape pod
from the destroyed
relay station.
Its log shows it was launched
by Barniss Frex.
- Where is he?
Rescued
by an unidentified vessel.
We're tracking
its warp signature.
Find him.
Whomever stole the "Pro to star"
did this to our guest
and destroyed that station.
This is no longer
a rescue mission.
It's a manhunt.
Captain's Log.
Star date 61296.9.
One minute, we were full
of hope to join Star fleet.
- We're ready?
- Then poof...
Yeah.
- That dream is dead...
- Let's go.
Because our ship
has a weapon
that'll wipe the Federation
off the galactic map.
Pog's not used to a problem
he can't fix.
We tried phasers,
transporters.
We can't get rid of it.
It just adapts.
Stupid futuristic weaponry.
Ahh! Ahh!
Thanks to Zero,
we know even opening a hail
to Star fleet
could infect their systems.
Despite this setback,
we decided as long
as we have the "Pro to star,"
we can still help others,
which has led us
to a mysterious M-Class planet
in need of help.
Any updates on why
the distress signal was sent,
Jane way?
- I'm in the dark.
There's a subspace
distortion field
interfering with our systems.
But I do detect life signs.
Then we should beam down
and see if we...
Who wants help
from a bunch of losers
who can't even help themselves?
As long as we keep
that thing below deck
far from Star fleet, we're good.
Now where's Rok?
Come on, Murf.
I know you're feeling bad,
but you gotta eat something.
I wish I knew what's wrong.
He's probably just
under the weather.
I'd venture more than
anything, he needs rest.
Why don't you stay here
with Murf?
We'll call if we need you.
Thanks, guys.
Jankom's feeling
a tiny tickle in his throat.
Cough, cough, cough.
Maybe Pog will sit this one
out too.
Nice try.
You're coming with us.
Uh-oh.
Okay then, four to beam down.
Be careful down there.
Oh, oh!
Well, everything looks good.
No distress here,
so beam us back up, baby.
Was it just me,
or did the be a my part
take longer than usual?
Must be the interference.
I can barely get a reading.
Hm, two bio-signatures.
Hmm.
Ahh!
Just ahead.
Look out!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
we come in peace!
Stand down, Sool'U.
Stand down.
It's a Star-Flight
landing party.
They've finally arrived.
I am James'T.
This is Sool'U.
- Star-Flight?
- Uh...
Jankom knew
this was a bad idea.
Excuse us a second.
Jane way.
I thought we were supposed
to keep our ship away
from Star fleet.
So why am I looking at them?
That's impossible.
While Captains James T. Kirk
and Hikaru Sulu
are Star fleet legends,
no Federation ship's
been near this sector
in over 100 years.
And there's no record
of First Contact.
They're not Star fleet.
You have answered The Call.
Oh,
you mean the distress call.
The Call of En Son.
A day we feared
would never come,
but you're here.
Here at last.
- Indeed.
We must inform
the Star-Flight Command.
Live Logs and Proper.
Star-Flight.
Come in, Star-Flight.
Fed'ration has arrived.
Hmm.
Welcome,
my Fed'ration brethren,
to New Enda-Prize.
Whoa, it's incredible.
It's them.
- Look.
- Captain.
Look, look!
I... I... I can't believe it.
Is it them?
The prophecies were true.
Live Logs and Proper.
Sir. Sir.
- Is this place for real?
- Real?
It's like they're playing
make-believe.
Actually,
I sense no deception from them.
Though a bit unorthodox,
they truly believe themselves
to be Star fleet.
Can you believe
these dum-dums?
Playing dress up,
pretending to be Federation?
Yeah, who are they fooling?
Did you find
our missing cadet?
No, my good Dr. Boons.
But look.
Star-Flight has come to aid us.
They are Star-Flight?
Well, they answered The Call.
You must hear the Logs.
We've stayed prepared
and kept them word-for-word,
just as our forefathers did.
Sool'U, we must play the Logs!
Everyone, to the Bridge!
- Aye, aye, sir.
- Aye.
Captain's Log.
Star date: Many moons ago.
A great ship
flew through the cosmos,
bearing heroes of legend.
Heroes of legend.
Among them,
James'T the Warrior,
for whom I was named,
and Sprok, well-known
for his words so wise.
Most illogical.
But then...
They found...
Our world.
There are people below
who need us,
but we cannot intervene.
They would need a hero.
- Me!
- Me!
- Me!
- Me!
A miracle worker.
I am En Son of Star-Flight
Enda-Prize,
Bearer of Crimson,
bravest among us.
I will go to save them.
- What now?
Who's this guy?
En Son fell from the stars,
bringing gifts of knowledge
and wonder with him.
He offered a way of peace.
The way of Star-Flight.
But he also brought a warning.
A great evil
has followed me here.
Do not enter the woods
where it lurks
or your land will be cursed
by The Gallows!
The Gallows!
- The Gallows.
- The Gallows?
A few foolish warriors
doubted En Son's warning
and went to face The Gallows...
Ahh!
- But no one...
- Oh, no!
Ever returned.
A sickness came
to our village.
Proof we should have listened.
En Son spent
his final months here
teaching us what he could
so we might survive the curse
when he was gone.
And with his final breath,
En Son promised that one day...
Star-Flight will come
and rid us of the evil.
These are my dying words.
Oh.
For generations,
we've waited.
But now the day has come.
You have arrived!
Uh...
Dal, where are you going?
If these people
sent a distress signal,
they obviously need our help.
Do they?
Clearly, some Star fleet guy
landed here a hundred years ago
and they weren't ready
for First Contact.
These people are living a lie
and don't even know it.
Just like us.
The Gallows.
Cadet Huur'A.
I saw it.
This is not part of the play.
I saw it.
I saw The Gallows.
It had two glowing eyes,
roaring smoke,
breathing fire and death.
Okay, Pog's heard enough.
Adventure's over.
Back to the ship we go.
We're not going anywhere.
May I ask
what is afflicting her?
Didn't you hear, man?
The Gallows!
The curse
that poisons our land.
But curses aren't real.
That looks real to me.
What... what is that?
Oh, no.
What?
It can't be real.
Get it off of me.
I'm afraid it's quite real.
But with all this interference,
I cannot determine the cause.
'Cause it's evil!
That's why.
'Cause it's evil!
I could synthesize a cure,
but not without knowing
the illness I'm curing.
We must go to the source.
We need to find The Gallows.
This won't hurt.
I just need one little sample.
Ew! Now what's happening?
What's wrong, Murf?
What's happening to you?
Gwyn
to Rok-Tahk and Jane way.
We have a dire situation.
We're here. Report.
We need you, Rok,
to bring down EV suits
and medical supplies STAT.
- What's wrong?
- It's Dal.
Hurry!
- Now Dal is sick?
I'm on my way.
Jane way,
take good care of Murf.
Of course.
I'll do what I can.
There must be a
scientific explanation, right?
That's what we're here
to find out.
Stay close, kid.
There's curses.
Why didn't you heed
En Son's warnings?
I believe in Star-Flight,
and Son told us
to bravely explore
to help the helpless.
I know.
You made Star-Flight proud.
Ugh.
Z, have you ever synthesized
an antidote?
No,
but I've skimmed the manual.
Great, my survival's riding
on chasing down a curse,
and my doctor's making it up
on the fly.
I sense you are afraid,
but I am doing everything
in my power.
Lashing out will not improve
your situation.
Try to relax.
- Relax?
My skin's itching like...
What are we doing here?
None of us are Star fleet
and people are really sick.
Why did we think we could help?
We're just as crazy as...
That feels nice.
Wood Leech.
When the sickness began,
we found their secretions
reduce the angiodemic
immune response.
I know
what you must think of us...
Our facility's poor,
our knowledge
woefully incomplete.
En Son told my ancestors
of your Prime Directive,
how we weren't ready
for your technology or ideas.
We know we're not Star-Flight,
but you don't need a real ship
to believe
in what it stands for.
What about you?
Do you believe, Dal R'El?
Look at the dead trees.
Whatever's poisoning
the land, it's close.
What was that?
Even I'm beginning to worry.
Oh, so... so... so
this is where she saw the...
Oh, no!
Uh, why are we walking
towards it?
Jankom Pog is afraid!
I've learned never
to fear the truth.
Ahh!
Ahh, ahh... ahh?
It's The Gallows!
Not Gallows.
"Galileo."
It's not just a legend.
What's a 23rd century
class F shuttle craft
doing down here?
I can't get a reading.
There's too much
subspatial interference.
Like the kind you get
from a broken warp engine.
Oh!
It's leaking plasma?
Great!
Ahh, ahh!
This thing's been leaking
for a hundred years.
These are dilithium crystals.
The shuttle plasma
must be chain-reacting
with explosive minerals
in the rock.
That's what's poisoning
the land.
Gwyn to Zero.
We found the cause
of the sickness.
Hello?
Do you read me?
It won't be able
to get through.
This is what's causing
the subspatial interference.
We have to get through.
Zero can't make an antidote
unless they know
what's making them sick.
Jankom's been studying
his share
of 23rd century
Star fleet ships,
and that tin can is equipped
with a duotronic comm relay.
If anyone steps foot
on this shuttle and it falls,
this entire place blows.
And honestly,
if we come across
one more thing Pog can't fix,
then Pog can't call himself
an engineer.
Jankom, what are you doing?
If this thing goes sideways,
promise me a royal...
Tellarite...
Funeral!
But what about your tools?
They're all up here.
Stay with me, Dal.
Zero, we're losing them.
Jankom to "Pro to star."
Zero? Anybody?
Am I holding the right button?
Mr. Pog? Is that you?
We're trapped in a cave,
surrounded by dilithium.
We have toxic runoff!
We don't have much time.
There's plasma everywhere.
Dilithium reaction.
Toxic runoff
from shuttle plasma.
That should be enough
to synthesize an antidote.
The antidote's ready.
Quickly!
I don't know what I'm doing!
I mean, I'm alive!
- Dal!
- What's going on?
Are you okay?
- The roof's coming down.
Oh, we won't last much longer!
Get us outta here!
- Jane way!
Beam them out of there now!
Can't get a lock from here.
We need to be closer
to get a read on them,
but being that close
to the distortion radius
will knock out our autopilot
and yours truly.
So we'd have to fly
in manually?
We're down three crew members.
Hmm, maybe not.
Wow.
My, my.
Welcome
to the USS "Pro to star."
Are you sure about this?
They want to be Star fleet.
But can they command
a starship?
Trust me.
You just have to believe.
They're a bit retro.
Got anything more old school?
Computer, load Constitution
class holo-console,
mid-23rd century.
Translate command inputs
to the "Pro to star's" helm.
- Ho, ho.
- Whoa.
- Incredible.
- This I know.
Amazing.
I can work with this.
Let's go get our friends
out of that cave.
Impulse power.
- Aye, aye, Captain.
Pulse power.
It's starting to collapse!
Get into the shuttle!
This is Ensign Garrovick
of the USS "Enterprise."
This'll be my final call
to Star fleet...
Hoping you'll come,
though I've long given up
that anyone'll hear it.
Hope's a funny thing,
isn't it?
I tried to do my duty,
salvaged what I could
from the wreck,
went to save the locals
from the danger.
Shields up.
Before I fell
to my injuries.
But then, they welcomed me,
healed me,
gave me hope when I had none.
In the end,
they were the ones
who saved me.
Whoa!
Beam them up.
Locking on.
- Whoa!
- Ahh!
Get us outta here.
Captain's Log, Supplemental.
People can surprise you
sometimes.
It seems we met a new chapter
of Star fleet after all.
Sure,
they got a few things wrong,
but they got
a few things right.
Jane way says the rules about
Second Contact
are a bit fuzzy,
so it's up to them
on how they wanna evolve.
If these Enderprizians
can do so much
without even a ship
to call their own,
maybe we can too.
Look out!
If we can't take the ship
to Star fleet,
we'll find another way
without the "Pro to star."
♪ Murf ♪
Feeling better, buddy?
Murf?
Whoa.
Murf?
What's happening to you?