Data had evidently calculated the ship's speed to ensure she arrived before the satellite suffered damage. The external cameras closed in on the object, which was already showing the first signs of heating up as it encountered the edge of the atmosphere, but was still intact.
"Any identification?" asked Jean-Luc.
Worf consulted his scanners. "There are no identifying markings. But I am detecting the presence of an old subspace transmitter, which appears to have malfunctioned."
"The satellite itself appears to be made largely of a duranium alloy," Data added. "Its configuration is unfamiliar, but it is not unlike a type in common use on Earth in the twenty-second century."
The mystery was deepening.
"Lock on with a tractor beam," ordered the captain. "I'd like to find out more about this ... mysterious satellite."
For the next few minutes the ship precisely matched the orbit of the tiny object held in the pencil of light that was the tractor beam, while the scanners built up a more exact picture of its structure and inner workings. As Chief Engineer, Lieutenant La Forge was summoned to lend his expertise to the examination of the results.
"Beats me, sir," he said, when the Bridge officers convened in the conference room. "I agree, the evidence points to it being constructed sometime in the twenty-second century, and there are enough clues in the design for me to guess it's from Earth. But there's no evidence of who put it here or why."
Worf was present, and the captain noted once again that he shifted uncomfortably. This time, however, the action seemed so marked that it was impossible to ignore. "Do you have any knowledge that may have any bearing on this, Lieutenant?"
It was difficult to be completely sure, but a look of some embarrassment crossed the officer's face. "It ... it is something ..." He exhaled. "It is a legend."
"A Klingon legend?" Riker looked surprised, as well he might.
Worf nodded shortly. He seemed reluctant to continue, but intercepting the captain's encouraging inclination of the head, he went on. "This planet's star is visible from Khitomer, where I was brought up. It is faint, but it is part of one of our constellations. Its name is Hir'vaQ, which means 'Wolf's Eye', and the constellation is that of the Wolf.
"In children's tales it has an ill name. It is said to shine on Vo'paht kalTaJapk, the World of Lost Souls."
Eyebrows rose around the table.
"It is nonsense, of course," the Klingon continued somewhat defensively. "There is no such place. It is a tale for children, nothing more." He hesitated, and then added, "Klingons are more than just warriors, Captain. We too have our stories, our literature, our mythologies – even though it is no longer considered honourable to be a scholar, as it was in the old days."
"Very poetic," commented Counsellor Troi, with a faint, approving smile.
"There is something my scans have revealed, sir." Data spoke up in the tiny pause that followed. "There is an unidentified phenomenon occupying part of this solar system. I am unable to explain it, but this planet's orbit would take it through it for some considerable time. I believe that inside it, light would bend – rendering the planet invisible in its actual location, but possibly producing a visual image of it elsewhere. That might account for the planet acquiring a strange reputation."
"Would that effect scanners too, though?" asked La Forge dubiously.
"I would need to examine the phenomenon in more detail before I could answer that question." He sounded almost apologetic. "But I would suggest that until we have more information, we should not risk taking the ship inside it. There may be other side effects. Fortunately, it will be several more days before the planet approaches it."
Jean-Luc nodded briskly. "Make it so. Data, make it a priority to find out what this 'phenomenon' may consist of. Lieutenant–" He glanced at Geordi – "continue the work on the satellite."
The two officers rose and left the room. Riker paused a second but, clearly seeing that there were no further orders forthcoming, followed them.
Worf lingered. He looked uncomfortable. "Sir–."
"I appreciate that it was not easy for you to provide that additional information on the mythological aspect of this star, Lieutenant," the captain said quietly. "In the circumstances, I see no reason for it to be included in Starfleet records."
The Klingon's tense expression eased. With a brief, appreciative nod he left the conference room too, leaving only counsellor and captain still seated at the table.
Deanna's smile was knowing. "You're intrigued by the mystery."
"Indeed." He smiled back at her. "But isn't that the reason we're out here? To explore all the mysteries we find?"
"Even one as small as an old satellite."
"In orbit around a planet that disappears for part of its year."
Her eyes danced. "I can see why that would appeal."
"I'm only glad we came in time. A few more hours, and this 'old satellite' would have burned up in the atmosphere, and we'd never have had the chance to investigate it. And if we hadn't come to look at it, we might never have discovered this 'phenomenon' Data mentioned. I'm inclined to take advantage of what Fate's sent us." He laid both his hands on the table, pleased by the coincidence. Even without making any reference to Klingon legends in its reports, it seemed possible that Enterprise might be on the brink of making another intriguing scientific discovery.
=/\=
"All scans complete."
The schematic of the satellite was open to view. It was simple enough, clearly a communications beacon constructed to broadcast the contents of the transmitter it carried.
"We've found a couple of symbols," Geordi went on, pointing as high-res photographs appeared on the viewscreen. "The panels they were on were originally polished down, but we've managed to enhance what was left, enough for a computer to identify three of them. This thing was definitely made on Earth. Those are Arabic numerals.
"The alloy confirms it. It was in use for most of the twenty-second century and some of the twenty-third." He paused. "Particularly by Starfleet. It was too expensive for widespread commercial use."
"But according to Data, there's no record of this particular satellite in Starfleet records," mused Riker.
"I would suggest, Captain, that our only recourse if we wish to establish the purpose of this satellite is to retrieve the transmitter." Data spoke simply. "It appears to be relatively undamaged. If we bring it on board, it should be possible to reactivate it, and then we will have the answers to at least one of our questions. Perhaps when we know the why of its presence, we may be able to make a reasonable guess at who."
"Going on what we've found out about it, frankly I'd be worried about subjecting it to the stresses of actually dragging it," the chief engineer added. "This thing is old. It's taken meteorite damage, which probably took out some kind of solar sail and the control unit. By the looks of it, quite a few other bits had already fallen off, and the heat stress and our tractor beam aren't helping."
Data nodded. "I anticipate no undue risk in a retrieval operation while we lend the satellite sufficient support to prevent its orbit decaying any further. But the time factor is narrowing, sir. If we are to act, we should act soon."
"Then let's get on with it." Jean-Luc motioned permission to leave.
By now all their curiosity was thoroughly piqued. Scans of the still relatively distant phenomenon – primarily detectable by fluctuations in the movement of stellar radiation in its vicinity – had still revealed little of its nature, but that could wait. The satellite, however, had a very finite life expectancy.
It took little time for the android to don an EV suit to enable him to reach the satellite. He needed no oxygen tanks of course, but it was wise to protect him from radiation and stray particles, as well as from the bitter cold of hard vacuum; and, of course, he had to maintain communication with Enterprise.
His exit from the ship – now as close to the satellite as was deemed safe – was accomplished without fuss. The glare from Hir'vaQ, a brilliant blue-white star, would provide ample illumination for his work. From his seat on the Bridge, the captain watched via the external cameras as the tiny pulses from the manoeuvring jets moved the small, lonely figure steadily towards the ancient hulk, pitted by space dust and small meteorite impacts. It was now clearly visible that part of its superstructure had been ripped away, and the torn arms that had held it reached out blindly, jagged and empty.
It took some work to get into the innards of the badly-battered machine. For the most part Data worked in silence, though now and again he would report calmly on his progress. Finally he reached the transmitter itself. It was securely seated, but not proof against a determined android. Presently he pushed himself gently away from the satellite, the transmitter held safely in his arms.
The return to the ship was again accomplished without event. As soon as Data was back on board, Jean-Luc retired resignedly to his Ready Room to immerse himself in the reports again, confident that as soon as there was anything to report, he would be notified.