Discussion in 'The Next Generation' started by LeadHead, Feb 15, 2013.
CRUSHER: Exploratory surgery. Desensitise the brain areas troubling you.
LAFORGE: Same difference. No, thank you, Doctor.
CRUSHER: I understand.
LAFORGE: See you.
WORF: Yes sir?
RIKER: Where will I find Commander Data?
WORF: Commander Data is on special assignment, sir. He's using our shuttlecraft to transfer an admiral over to the Hood.
RIKER: An admiral?
WORF: He's been aboard all day, sir, checking over medical layout.
RIKER: Why a shuttlecraft? Why wouldn't he just beam over?
WORF: I suppose he could, sir, but the Admiral's a rather remarkable man.
MCCOY: Have you got some reason you want my atoms scattered all over space, boy?
DATA: No sir. But at your age, sir, I thought you shouldn't have to put up with the time and trouble of a shuttlecraft.
McCoy: Hold it right there, boy.
MCCOY: What about my age?
Data: Sorry sir, if that subject troubles you.
MCCOY: Troubles me? What's so damned troubling about not having died? How old do you think I am?
DATA: 137 years, Admiral, according to Starfleet records.
MCCOY: Explain how you remember that so exactly.
Separate names with a comma.