"-- and what would you say if we were exactly at the maximum safe radius, about here, pointing this way, with a velocity of approximately 0.04c?"

"With the simplifying assumptions given previously, our chance of survival would be about... 9.335618 to 1," said Spock.

Kirk frowned. "I have given you numbers with less than three significant digits. Where are you getting all your certainty from? Do you think you can impress me by pulling numbers out of thin air? My name is James T. Kirk, and I did not graduate first in my class from Starfleet Academy for you to take me for one who could be fooled by reckless use of scientific-sounding words!"

There was silence.

"Forgive me. I... had assumed, when I was told I would serve under another human commander, that you would be like those I have seen of your kind in the Starfleet service - unaware of your biases, easily impressed, pliable by false certainties and patterns in randomness. In such a case I would have no choice but to resort to psychological influence to ensure the best results for all parties involved. But it turns out that this may have been unnecessary." Spock inclined his head, briefly, in a passable approximation of human contrition - and, if one examined his hands closely, the Vulcan sign language for revised assumptions. "I should have taken you for a Bayesian."

"...what's a Bayesian?"