"Wait wait! Did you just say thousands? Thousands of years?" Thousands of years? How was that even possible? What kind of world did something like that create, when going to another galaxy was as easy as walking down the street? McCoy couldn't even begin to conceive of something like that. The chance to get back to what he knew and understood was a godsend though, and he grabbed it with both hands, relief obvious on his face.

"What, the Nibirans? That was all the Prime Directive's fault." He sighed and shook his head, "Starfleet doesn't interfere with other cultures or races unless we get invited in. Non-interference and all that rot. We let every culture develop on its own. We're never supposed to interfere no matter what, even if it means watching a whole people die." McCoy snorted and shook his head, amusement creeping into his expression.

"Some people don't strictly adhere to the letter of the law though. More like just go with the spirit. Hence having me and Jim down on the surface to act as a distraction while Spock tried to stop the volcano. Didn't exactly work the way we planned." He shrugged and gave a smirk, "Saved all their asses though. And got us all back on the ship." And if a story like that didn't illustrate the need for a greater purpose, McCoy didn't know what would.