Space, the final frontier.
These are the voyages of the Starship 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.
Captain's Log, Stardate 4978.5.
We are approaching the Arcadian Star System
on a mission to locate an old friend.
Do you think Harry Mudd is down there, Spock?
The probability of his presence on Motherlode
is 81%, plus or minus.53.
Why can't you just say, "Mudd's probably there"?
I just did, Doctor.
Approaching parking orbit, Captain.
Very well, Mr. Arex.
Spock, let's see how close your percentage is.
Now, you're all heavy metal miners, shrewd and intelligent.
So you can appreciate the incredible value I'm offering.
With this magical liquid, no person of the opposite sex can resist you.
It matters not whether you are young, old, fat, ugly or repugnant.
Nothing personal, gentle beings.
Proof, human.
Proof? Behold.
Harry, darling, I was lonely for you.
Behold.
I placed a single drop of this miracle substance on meself,
then simply touched this young lady.
Please, darling, come back to the ship with me.
How much?
- Three hundred credits, or the... - Three hundred?
A bargain, sir.
True love is worth any price.
Captain Kirk.
And the ineluctable Mr. Spock.
Welcome to Motherlode, gentlemen.
Interested in purchasing a little love?
We're interested in you, Harry.
For fraud, illegal drug manufacture and swindling.
As I said, welcome to Motherlode,
a charming planet which does not recognize Federation law.
So you two can keep out of this.
All right, Mudd. You've got a deal.
Are you aware that Harry Mudd is tricking you via an illusion?
What?
The so-called "girl" is a Rigelian hypnoid,
projecting a simple illusion.
Now, friends.
We can't arrest you, Harry. But you can give yourself up.
No.
Thief.
I surrender myself with free will.
Mercy of the law.
That was a miching trick, Kirk.
You've cost me me ship, everything I own. Even the love crystals.
I may just sue you.
Fine. I'll see you in court, Harry.
A minor bruise, Captain. He'll live.
I thought we left you on the robot planet, Harry. Permanently.
Never underestimate the spirit of Harcourt Fenton Mudd.
I borrowed a vehicle.
Stole a spaceship.
And left to find haven on llyra VI.
A charming planet, an innocent and friendly populace.
To whom you sold the Starfleet Space Academy.
- Harry... - A fraud.
But sold for enough credits to get to Sirius IX.
Where I discovered a boon to humanoid life,
a miracle love potion.
Which you sold to a thousand inhabitants,
who immediately became ill from using it.
I hadn't counted on their unusual biochemistry.
So, I did the logical thing. I left in haste.
And came here to swindle honest miners.
The love potion works, Captain.
If you'll allow me to procure some from my ship...
Prepare the arrest report, Mr. Spock.
I shall require a medical report on the prisoner, Miss Chapel.
Of course, Mr. Spock.
I think you deserve congratulations for trapping him so cleverly.
You exaggerate, Nurse.
Kindly see that your medical summary is more precise.
Your Mr. Spock is really a very attractive intelligence.
An efficient officer, yes.
But a trifle lacking in the warmer emotions.
Now, you, Nurse.
You have a wonderful gift
to heal the wounded, a fantastic touch.
A womanly, feminine quality. I appreciate that.
And I should like to, well, thank you.
- What is it? - My love potion.
Not illusion, not trickery, dear Nurse Chapel.
Inside this crystal lies the power to create love.
No. No, I've heard of your potions before.
I don't believe you.
Think about it, darling.
Mr. Spock in love with you.
An uncharted star system ahead, Captain.
Binary sun with a Class-M planet.
That's rare enough to warrant investigation.
Agreed. Take us into orbit, Lieutenant Arex.
It's really so simple, my dear.
You rub the liquid on yourself, then touch another person.
And it creates love in that person?
- Mudd, that is totally absurd. - No. It is infallible.
One touch evokes friendship between men or women.
But between woman and man, love.
Guaranteed.
You're not simply a beautiful woman, you are a scientist.
I urge you to take this love crystal as my gift of gratitude to you.
Take it, dear Nurse Chapel, and conduct your own experiment.
Not that I believe you, but... Well, I suppose I could analyze it.
Of course.
Parking orbit stable.
Weapons systems on defensive standby.
No evidence of intelligent life.
Atmosphere at surface, 800 millibars, breathable.
Gravity 1.2.
Temperature hot, but within Class-M limits.
I'll let you know the results of my analysis.
Laboratory tests would destroy it, my dear.
Why not test it the way it's meant to be used?
- No, I... - Darling, think.
If it does what I say it does,
Spock will be yours forever, my dear.
I just break the capsule and rub it on my skin?
And then touch him.
What is it?
A temporary effect as the liquid is absorbed.
- It'll pass. - I feel better.
Didn't I tell you?
You should...
You should be in the Brig, Harry.
Right you are, darling.
Why don't you go find Spock? Can't waste any time, you know.
Yes, I'll do that.
Yes, Nurse?
I brought the medical summary for the arrest report, Mr. Spock.
Sorry, sir.
Are you injured, Miss Chapel?
No. No, I'm fine.
Are you feeling all right?
Perfectly normal.
I will append your summary to the report.
Was there something else, Miss Chapel?
Wouldn't you like me to, well, stay?
Help you?
That would be illogical, Miss Chapel.
Yes.
Yes. It'd be stupid.
Harry Mudd, you swindling...
Oh, no.
Harry Mudd, triumphant again.
And appended hereto is a medical summary by Nurse Christine Chapel.
Nurse Chapel's sweet summary.
Dear, lovely Christine.
I've come to collect on your guarantee, Mr. Mudd.
Captain.
Doctor.
I wish to report
a number of very strange
emotions.
- What? - What?
You're implying the potion was not completely successful?
Oh, no, it was.
I made a complete fool of myself.
But you know how cold Vulcans are.
Perhaps it takes a bit more time for Spock to...
You're the same fraud you've always been, Harry.
I don't know how I could have believed you.
Well, let's discuss it rationally, my dear, let's not be hasty.
Don't panic, Harry.
This phaser is set on stun, not kill.
Activate the intercom.
Now, wait a minute,
perhaps that particular crystal was defective.
Here. Try another. I assure you.
Stop it!
Sorry, Christine, but I shall require a temporary hostage.
Internal security, Captain.
Put it on-screen.
Shuttlecraft bay.
Mudd.
And he has Christine. She's in danger.
My love.
- He's going planet side. - No. Not with my Christine.
Relax, darling,
I'll set you down somewhere safe and then I'll be off discreetly.
We must go after them, Captain.
I'll lead a landing party.
Spock, you're obviously not yourself. Maybe some rest.
Captain, I insist upon going.
Christine.
I can't stand the thought of any danger to her,
to the woman I love.
- Love? - Spock?
Yes.
I want to protect her,
hold her in my arms.
- Then I'll transport down with you. - Good.
Jim, is that wise, in his condition?
Try and stop him. It's better if I go with him.
Spock? In love?
I can't imagine.
Love.
Captain's Log, supplemental.
Harry Mudd has escaped from the Enterprise,
taking Head Nurse Chapel with him, apparently as a hostage.
Meanwhile, Mr. Spock is acting very strange.
Come on. Hurry.
If he's harmed one hair on her pretty head...
Jim, the search party found this in the shuttlecraft bay.
One of Mudd's love crystals.
Captain, a number of these were broken against the ship's air system grill.
- Lucky for us they don't work. - Are we sure, Jim?
A number of the crew are acting as strange as Spock.
Please, Captain.
Check it out, Bones. Send me an immediate report.
Mudd has landed on the planet surface.
Coordinates relayed to Transporter Room 4.
And the Captain's in transports about it with our ever-loving Mr. Spock.
You're funny
and very attractive for a human.
They'll find you soon enough, me little poppet.
You'll be safe and I'll be long gone.
Gone where? The planet's a desert.
There's always a market for an ingenious man.
Once, I recall, on Omega Cygni, I turned a handsome profit
selling the natives their own oceans.
We haven't seen any traces of intelligent life.
Of any life.
Then you can relax. There's no danger, eh?
We'll get you set up top class. Don't bother to thank me.
Well, I hadn't planned on it.
By the way, anybody keeping a trace on the Captain and Mr. Spock?
Sure, Arex.
Thanks, Jim.
It's good to have a friend like you.
Strange, that's the way I feel about you, too.
My dear friend, Spock.
Come, let's go get Mudd and Christine.
Darling, are you all right?
Darling?
Kirk, get us out of here!
Transporter Room, emergency beam-up now.
They're not responding.
Don't worry.
- You'll be safe, darling. - Yes, Spock.
How wonderful.
They're coming closer!
Emergency beam-up.
Enterprise, come in.
No response.
Spock, can't you take your hands off her?
That's my affair.
Captain, please.
I think we should get a few things straight.
Jim...
No, Captain.
We're both reacting to the drug.
The love potion.
It worked?
Yes, we have to control
our emotional reactions.
It worked.
And I was selling those crystals to lump-headed miners
for a miserable 300 credits.
Did I ever tell you about the time I saved Captain Kirk's life?
Or Spock's?
And my dear friend Scotty.
And that pretty little Lieutenant Uhura.
I've saved just about everybody on this here ship.
If the Enterprise had a heart, I'd save her, too.
Now, let's talk about your heart, my dear.
How long does the effect of the potion last, Harry?
I... I don't know.
Not long, according to the creature I swindled...
I purchased the crystals from.
Look!
Keep trying to contact the Enterprise.
Maybe we can distract them.
That is an outstandingly stupid idea.
I'm sorry. The drug.
I simply doubt that we can appeal to their better nature.
If they have one.
Harry, do you have any of the crystals left?
Two.
No! They're worth a fortune.
No.
My friends, dear Christine,
for you, for all of us.
I've got a hangover to shame all previous hangovers.
And I did not touch a drop of Scotch.
- Not so loud, you fool. - Yeah.
Well, all of a sudden, I don't like you much either.
Come in, Enterprise.
Emergency beam-up.
Repeat, emergency.
Enterprise here.
- I made contact. - Great.
I hope we last long enough to be beamed up.
Phasers ready. I'll need help.
And then, on Ophiucus VI,
I conned two miners out of a year's supply of dilithium crystals
with fake Federation vouchers.
May I help you record his confession, Nurse?
You?
You'd be the last person I'd choose.
A few moments of love,
paid for with several hours of hatred.
Your potion is scarcely a bargain, Harry.
Well, Spock, so few things in this universe are perfect.
Think I'll get rehabilitation therapy again?
I can guarantee it.
Well, that's all right. I just hate to leave you all.
All my loved ones.