MCCOY DIDN'T REALLY expect an answer to his question, so he wasn't disappointed when one wasn't immediately forthcoming. Like the others, he stared at the viewscreen and tried to puzzle out this enigma facing the Enterprise.
The enormous structure dwarfed the starship. There was a certain strange attractiveness to the alien creation despite all the unusual lines and angles, in the same way that some babies are so ugly they can only be termed cute. In spite of its appearance of having been put together by someone with absolutely no sense of aesthetics, it exuded a frightening feeling of functional purpose.
Lights glowed a dull, sickly red against the gray-green outer hull. The vessel resembled nothing so much as a sprawling, metallic plant like those McCoy remembered from his grandmother's garden and the swamps of the far South. Runners and their offshoots sprang off a central trunk at intermittent levels with no evident rhyme or reason to their design and placement, and with no obvious avenues of connection between them. The old phrase 'You can't get there from here' wafted briefly through the physician's mind, and he smiled grimly. Given the right tender loving care, the damned thing looked as if it might sprout and grow and take over the entire galaxy the way kudzu had taken over and choked out Grandmother McCoy's garden. The comparison made him uncomfortable.
McCoy looked down at Kirk. The captain sat forward at the conn, eyes narrowed in a calculating squint. The doctor fancied he smelled gray matter burning.
"I don't know what it is," Kirk finally responded to the doctor's question. His voice held a touch of caution, as though he weren't quite ready to commit himself to a definition without more information. "I know what it looks like, maybe, but I don't recall hearing—" He shook his head wonderingly. "Turn off that damned alarm, but stay on yellow alert," he ordered. His voice was clear in the sudden silence that resulted. "Any ideas, Spock?" he asked.
The Vulcan bent intently over his equipment, then straightened and turned his sharp, scrutinizing gaze toward the front viewscreen and its unanticipated vision. "This is most intriguing, Captain," he replied with what McCoy took to be the understatement of the century. "All indications point to this being a space station." Whatever emotion lurked behind the simple statement was betrayed only by the slight elevation of one peaked eyebrow.
Spock's pronouncement was greeted by a quiet murmuring and shifting that coursed fleetingly through the late-shift bridge crew and was gone. McCoy quelled the desire to rub gooseflesh from his arms.
"A space station." Kirk parroted the Vulcan's calm words and pursed his lips ruminatively. He leaned forward, elbow cocked on one knee, chin resting against his fisted hand. With his proud profile, he looked like "The Thinker" brought to sudden, fleshly life. "And this close to the Romulan Neutral Zone …" He pondered, then sat up straight. "Spock, I don't recall hearing anything from Starfleet about any Federation stations being under construction in this part of the galaxy."
"Indeed, Captain," the Vulcan readily agreed, hands clasped loosely behind his back. "According to a computer scan of Starfleet communiqués for the past five years, there is no corroborative evidence to place this, or any other construction, in this area of Federation territory. In any event—"
"Well, sir, someone's been building something out here, and I don't think it's a birthday present for the Federation council president." Arms folded stiffly across his chest, McCoy stared at the viewscreen.
"May I proceed, Doctor?" Spock queried politely.
McCoy flapped one hand. "Oh, be my guest."
"Thank you. As I was about to state, Captain, in any event, this construct's layout adheres to no current Federation parameters. In fact, its design structure, while being markedly dissimilar to those presently in use by any of the Federation's member worlds, bears a striking resemblance to early Klingon prototype stations. Given our close proximity to the Romulan Neutral Zone, however, I can only postulate that it is of their making."
The bridge crew's silent uneasiness at this remark was like a condensation against the skin, chilling and slick. "If that's a Romulan station," noted Ensign Nyssa, seated at the communications console, "what's it doing in Federation space?" Her soft voice was tinged with suspicion with which McCoy could readily sympathize, and her blue eyes were full of pensive speculation. One hand drew into a tight fist in her lap.
"That's a good question, Ensign." McCoy studied the viewscreen closely and didn't like the way the hair rose along the nape of his neck.
"It's a very good question," Kirk concurred. "Are there any identifying markings on that thing? I want to know what we're dealing with."
"Captain, I believe if Ensign Devin magnifies the station's center quadrant, we may be able to make a positive identification."
At Kirk's nod, the helmsman did as Spock bade. A close-up portion of the space station came into sudden, sharp focus. The outer hull was pocked and scratched—evidence of collision with space debris—but was otherwise in excellent condition. A slanted, blocky line of script decorated a series of panels directly across the center of the viewscreen, just below a wide section of covered viewports.
"That's Romulan writing, all right," Kirk said.
"Correct," Spock confirmed. "We are in the presence of the Reltah."
The name slipped about the bridge on a susurrus of sound like the wind through dry leaves. The space station had appeared as unexpectedly as a white rabbit out of a magician's hat, and one almost expected it to disappear just as abruptly and with as little fanfare or explanation.
McCoy uncrossed his arms and leaned against the back of Kirk's chair. He jerked his chin at the mystery. "I thought the Romulans didn't build space stations," he commented.
"Until this moment, they didn't, Bones," Kirk replied. His intent hazel eyes studied the visible hull critically. "Though I suppose it was only a matter of time. It's not like they're exactly new to space travel." He thoughtfully tugged his bottom lip. A gentle sigh, so light that only McCoy heard it, was the only indication of the captain's bafflement and concern. "She doesn't seem very lively, though, does she? No signs they're even aware we're here."
"Scanning further." Spock bent over his console once more, then looked up. "Life signs are negative, Captain."
"Are you sure?" McCoy asked.
The unemotional first officer quirked an eyebrow at the remark. McCoy figured it was the closest the Vulcan would come to claiming insult at such an absurd suggestion, and it gave a warming sense of normalcy to all this weirdness. "Affirmative, Doctor. Scanners indicate minimal power only. The station is adrift at nearly impulse speed."
"You think it's just garbage that got away from them, Jim?"
"Not by a long shot, Bones." McCoy practically heard the gears turning in Kirk's head as he decided how to proceed. "The Romulans wouldn't let something like this just drift away." He shook his head. "Something else is going on here." He motioned with one hand. "Ensign Nyssa, send a hail. Life signs or no life signs, I want to keep to procedure." He tipped a look at McCoy. "We don't want anyone saying we don't know how to play by the rules, do we?"
"Good point."
"Aye, sir." Slender fingers flew over the communications control board, and Nyssa's voice reached out to the darkened hulk before them. "Space station Reltah, this is the Federation Starship Enterprise. Respond, please." She waited a moment, listening intently, with her head tilted fractionally to one side, her brow furrowed with concentration. "Romulan space station Reltah, this is the Federation Starship Enterprise. You have passed out of Romulan territory and into Federation space. Respond, please." Nyssa paused again, then continued. "Space station Reltah, are you in need of assistance? Respond, please." The ensign looked over her shoulder and shook her head at Kirk. "No response, sir. I'm not even certain they're receiving us."
"That's fine, Ensign, just so long as it's all on record." He tapped an index finger against the side of his nose. Fine lines creased the skin at the outer corners of his eyes as he pondered his next move.
Kirk's voice was so quiet that McCoy wasn't certain he'd heard him at all. "Did you say something, Jim?"
"I said, what are the Romulans up to?" Kirk shook his head, but without any real evident meaning behind the gesture. "They've been very quiet lately, Bones, and now this." He waved a hand at the screen. "They're getting too cocky if they think they can just traipse over into Federation space without repercussions. That's a direct violation of the Neutral Zone Treaty they're so fond of invoking every time they think we're going to stick a toe over the line."
Spock spoke up. "Have you considered the possibility, Captain, that this could be a ruse?"
"To draw our attention away from their antics elsewhere? The thought did cross my mind, Mr. Spock." Kirk shifted in his chair. "Ensign, send to Starfleet Command, Admiral Cartwright's attention. Let them know we've encountered an apparently unmanned Romulan space station in Federation territory, are proceeding with caution, and will inform them of our findings. Recommend watch points along the Neutral Zone be notified to keep an eye out for unexpected activity. Better safe than sorry, after all."
"Aye, sir." She turned away.
"I don't suppose we could just call them and tell them to come pick up their trash?" McCoy asked dryly.
"Are you suggesting, Dr. McCoy, that we turn the station back over to the Romulans without first investigating it?" Spock asked.
Kirk allowed himself a small, lopsided grin. "I'm with Spock, Bones. As they say in the beachcombing business, finders keepers. I want a closer look at that thing myself."
"Surprise, surprise." McCoy's eyes glinted. "Was that an outbreak of curiosity, Spock? Sounded pretty close to an emotion to me."
"Hardly, Doctor," the Vulcan replied coolly, and his eyebrow twitched. "I merely feel it would be in our best interests to gain as much information on this vessel as we possibly can in the time afforded us."
"Of course," McCoy agreed readily. "And your own personal desires didn't come into play at all."
"I assure you, Dr. McCoy, as I have in the past, that I am without—"
"Right, right, sure." McCoy gave the first officer a long, appraising look just to let him know he had him right where he wanted him, then turned away with a Cheshire Cat smile. His hands gently kneaded the back of Kirk's chair. "Checking out the damned thing sounds good to me, and I don't mean to be a Nosy Peter, here, but …"
"I'm open to suggestions, Bones."
"Well, what if it doesn't belong to the Romulans?"
Kirk canted his head back in interest. "I beg your pardon?"
McCoy shrugged. "If it is a ruse, it might be more than just a Romulan ruse. Maybe someone else is involved, either trying to put one over on the Romulans by getting them in trouble, or working in tandem with them."
"Like the Klingons, you mean?"
"Sure, like the Klingons, or any of the other less savory types we've encountered. But I'd put my money on the Klingons if it came to a bet. They've been in cahoots with the Romulans before." The doctor leaned down. "Think about it, Jim. While the Federation is busy trying to figure all this out, and possibly being put in a position of antagonizing the Romulans in the process, what's to stop the Klingons from blithely cruising their cloaked ships across the Neutral Zone and wreaking their own special brand of havoc? I'm not saying that's the case, but I think we ought to consider the possibility that more than one group is involved. Hell, neither group has much loyalty except to themselves. For all we know, they could have started out as partners and ended up with a space station full of dead Romulans killed off by the Klingons." He pointed at the viewscreen. "That's one damned huge unknown quantity out there, Captain. I think we need to look at it from as many angles as possible, just so we don't get our tails caught in the screen door."
Kirk nodded and slouched back in his chair, almost pinning McCoy's hastily removed hands. "I'll keep that all in mind, Bones, even though I think you're being just a tad paranoid. Much as it might rankle, we have to give the Romulans and the Klingons the benefit of the doubt until we have more concrete evidence. Maybe the Romulans don't know their new toy has wandered away from home. If not, they'll owe us a big favor for finding it, and maybe several if someone else is trying to pull something and put the blame on them."
That drew a slight smile from McCoy. "Now that you put it that way, it would be kind of nice having something to hold over their heads for a change."
"And if there's something else going on, whether or not they admit to it or we catch them in it, they'll know we're not sleeping at our posts." Kirk looked around. "Spock, do we need to be concerned about any of the energy readings off the station? Could the Enterprise be in danger if we stay in this area?"
"I speculate no need for concern," the first officer replied. "Output is minimal, as I stated earlier, and I note no undue fluctuations in the readings to cause concern."
"Good. Ensign Devin, are there any other ships in the immediate vicinity?"
The ensign shook his head after consulting his instruments. "The nearest Starfleet vessel is the Tandarich, Captain, and she's docked in at Homeaway Station. I detect no alien vessels present."
"So, if they're out there, they're cloaked, and there's nothing we can do about it until they decide to show themselves."
"That's a comforting thought," McCoy remarked.
Kirk shot him a sardonic look. "Any danger in sending a team aboard to investigate, Spock?"
"None that I can foresee, Captain. Though power is low, the ambient temperature poses no threat, though I would recommend wearing field jackets as a precaution. In addition, might I recommend taking handlamps and a portable generator with us? With systems low, there may be areas we wish to explore that are not illuminated. As for the generator, it may be useful should we desire access to the station's computers as an avenue of exploration."
"Good idea, Spock. Make a note to Lieutenant Chekov's station." Kirk touched a button on the arm console of his chair. "Lieutenant Commander Sulu and Commander Uhura to the bridge. Lieutenant Commander Sulu has the conn in my absence." He touched another button. "Kirk to Lieutenant Chekov."
The security chief's voice sounded muzzy over the intercom, his thick Russian accent fuzzed with interrupted sleep but rapidly clearing. "Lieutenant Pavel Chekov here, Captain."
A faint smile curled the corners of Kirk's mouth. "Sorry to interrupt your off hours, Lieutenant, but I need your expertise. We've encountered what appears to be a Romulan space station, apparently unmanned and adrift. Assemble a security team and meet us in the transporter room in twenty minutes, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir!" Chekov replied sharply, all vestiges of sleep gone. "Chekov out!"
The captain's fingers again sought the intercom. "Bridge to Commander Scott."
"Scott here, sir."
"Scotty, I want you down in the transporter room in twenty minutes. We've encountered a derelict space station and I want a tight fix on the away team. If something unforeseen does occur, I want beam-out immediately."
"Aye, sir. I'll keep as tight an eye on them as my sainted granny did me. Scott out."
Kirk stood. "Care to take a walk, gentlemen, and have a look at our find?"
"I thought you'd never ask." McCoy followed Kirk and Spock into the turbolift. When they were moving toward the transporter room, the doctor cleared his throat. "Not that I mind, of course, but why are you sending me along onto a space station with no crew?"
"A precaution, Bones. Someone might get hurt. Besides," Kirk added, "All we know for certain is that Spock's sensors didn't pick up any life signs. That doesn't necessarily mean there's no one aboard."
The faint smile touching McCoy's features drifted away like a vagrant cloud of smoke, and his face settled into its more familiar, somber lines. "I hate it when you say things like that."