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Data: The probe is coming alongside, sir. Ready to beam it aboard.
Riker: I can't believe Starfleet sent us a Federation dignitary inside a two-meter-long probe rather than on a proper ship.
Picard: Another sad example of penny-pinching by the head office, Number One.
Riker: Welcome aboard, Emissary K'Ehleyr.
Pulaski: Your ride aboard that class-8 probe must have been quite an ordeal.
K'Ehleyr: It was better than Starfleet's original plan. Their first idea was to give me a spacesuit and a class-2 probe.
Riker: Class-2? The kind that has handlebars and a motorcycle seat on the outside?
Pulaski: Your bio-readings are very unusual for a Klingon.
K'Ehleyr: That's because I'm half-Klingon and half-human.
Riker: I'm curious -- what made you choose a career as a special emissary?
K'Ehleyr: I decided I didn't have the temperament to become the chief engineer of a Federation starship.
Picard: Allow me to present my staff, Emissary. The Klingon officer who's scowling at you is....
K'Ehleyr: Lieutenant Worf needs no introduction, Captain. He just needs to decide whether he's going to kiss me or hit me.
Worf: And in what order.
K'Ehleyr: The T'Ong, a battlecruiser full of cryogenically-suspended Klingons, has been detected heading towards a group of Federation colonies. We must intercept it before the crew awakens.
Picard: What makes you think they would act in a hostile manner if they discovered humans on those planets?
K'Ehleyr: They were sent out on their original mission on the same day they learned that James Kirk had beamed eighty-thousand tribbles into their sister ship's engine room.
Troi: I didn't think humans and Klingons could produce children.
K'Ehleyr: Actually, the DNA is compatible.
Troi: I was talking about surviving the mating ritual.
K'Ehleyr: Well, that can be a concern. It took a week for my father to recover.
Troi: I wonder what attracted him to a Klingon woman in the first place.
K'Ehleyr: What makes you think that Mom was my Klingon parent?
Worf: Let us determine how to deal with the T'Ong, as the Captain asked us to do.
K'Ehleyr: I'd rather we talked about us.
Worf: What we should be discussing is the violence that stubborn, blood-lusting Klingons who harbour old grudges are capable of inflicting!
K'Ehleyr: Sounds like you and I are finally on the same wavelength.
K'Ehleyr: AARRRGGGH!
(SMASH!)
Troi: When people break tables like that, we psychologists call it a displacement activity.
K'Ehleyr: We Klingons prefer to call it "warming up for the main event."
K'Ehleyr: Hmpf! Your "Holodeck Monster Combat" program is for wimps!
Worf: You seek to anger me with your taunts, but I refuse to bite.
K'Ehleyr: I'll settle for a hickey if you're up to it.
K'Ehleyr: Grrrrr....
Worf: Rowrrrrr....
K'Ehleyr: Hubba-hubba....
Worf: "Hubba-hubba"?
K'Ehleyr: Sorry. My human side comes out at the most awkward moments.
Worf: Let us now solemnize our union by reciting the ritual words.
K'Ehleyr: No way! I'm not interested in becoming your wife!
Worf: Tlhingan jiH! If anyone here feels we should not be married, let him speak now or forever hold....
Holo-monster: Urp hrawr hsss wurkh!
Worf: No one asked for your opinion!
K'Ehleyr: If we find the T'Ong before its crew revives, we could beam aboard and keep them asleep.
Worf: But if they are already awake, our only choice will be to destroy their ship.
Picard: Unacceptable. I want another alternative.
La Forge: Could we perhaps put the Klingons back to sleep by broadcasting some really nice, soothing lullabies to them?
Worf: I think not.
K'Ehleyr: There's the T'Ong! Quick, shoot them before they attack us with their weapons of mass destruction!
Picard: That would be premature. As a Frenchman, I am determined to find a peaceful diplomatic solution to this crisis.
K'Ehleyr: Would you fire if I told you that T'Ong is the Klingon word for "axis of evil"?
Picard: No, you'll have to give me a better reason than that.
Picard: If we talk with him, is there any chance Captain K'Temoc will respond to reason?
Riker: I doubt that he'd respond to anyone dressed in a brightly-coloured pajama-like jumpsuit, sir.
K'Ehleyr: (nuzzling Worf) Remember how I respond to black leather, handsome?
Worf: Captain, I have suddenly come up with an idea....
Worf: (in Picard's chair) Drop your shields and surrender, K'Temoc!
K'Temoc: (on viewscreen) A uniformed Klingon warrior in command of a Starfleet vessel? Impossible!
Worf: Skeptical fool! The Empire and the Federation are allies in this century!
K'Temoc: How repugnant! For what price did our cowardly leaders sell their honour to these humans?
Worf: For the secret of how to prevent tribbles from reproducing!
K'Temoc: Not a bad deal.
K'Ehleyr: Goodbye, Worf. I'm ready to go take command of the T'Ong.
Worf: Allow me the honour of operating the transporter for you.
K'Ehleyr: Very well. Two to beam over.
Worf: Two? Who is the other person?
K'Ehleyr: I'll introduce you to him or her when we next see each other.
Worf: Then I shall spend the time until your return in a considerable state of expectation.
K'Ehleyr: Believe me, so will I.
(K'Ehleyr dematerializes at Ludicrous Speed)
THE END | 
