I won't let you take this ship.
There you are. I could still sense you in there. Still feel you chattering about.
Do you know what it feels like to put my hands on my friend's throat, and not be able to do a God-damn thing about it?
A bit like hanging limbless. Powerless.
I've been poking around in that trash-dump of a mind - wow, by the way - because I had to know why. Billions of species... planets... and, still, you always needed more.
Perfection takes time, dear.
This was never about perfection, or evolution, or any of that bullshit. It was never enough because you're just like me: lonely.
To share your own crude colloquialism: bullshit.
Then why haven't you killed me? Stop. Stop! You take this ship, you let Soong win, in 400 years, the Confederation wipes out your entire collective.
So myopically linear. You see the branch but not the tree. We know of the Confederation's threat now, and we will prepare. Time... is on our side.
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