A/N: Well, let's see how this will turn out. I don't own Star Trek through this entire story. Let the lies and twists commence.

Official notice of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets with the Romulan Empire:

Diplomatic negotiations reached a compromise on stardate 5104.6 concerning the Neutral Zone between the Federation and Romulan Empire. All ships must respect the new parameters: the Neutral Zone remains in full effect for all ships except those of exploratory nature. Repeat: only exploratory ships of both the Federation and Romulan Empire are now allowed into the Neutral Zone for exploration and scientific purposes. All other ships will be subject to severe punishment from both governments if found violating the Neutral Zone. If a Federation juggernaut or battle cruiser, or a Romulan Warbird or Blackhawk is found within the Neutral Zone, it will be considered an act of war. Federation starships and Romulan Birds of Prey are permitted within the region due to their extensive scientific equipment. There shall be NO CONFLICT between the Federation and Romulan ships while in the Neutral Zone. Any hostile actions between Romulan and Federation ships will be considered an unprovoked attack and, as such, an act of war. The far edges of the Neutral Zone shall be respected and no ship is to cross into the opposite territory. Any act of a Federation ship crossing into Romulan space, or Romulan ship crossing into Federation space, will be considered a breach of borders and be treated according to the jurisdiction of the space the ship is in (Romulans will be handled according to Federation law, the Federation members will be handled according to Romulan law). This is signed by the Federation president and board members as well as the Romulan Praetor and High Council. Until further notice, the Neutral Zone is open to exploration.

Effective stardate 5104.6

"Admiral, this is outrageous!" Kirk fumed. "On what grounds-"

"On the grounds that three ships will be entering the Neutral Zone for exploration and, as such, we will need to spread our resources across those ships," Admiral Jason Harbinger drummed.

"'Spread resources'? That's your excuse?" Kirk leaned forward. "You do realize that we're talking about human beings."

"Captain Kirk," Harbinger said, no longer bothering with the runaround of protests and reasons. "I have approved the Apache's request and the decision is final. Tell your Chief Medical Officer to start packing for transfer to the Apache and prepare your crew to receive a new CMO." The transmission ended, from Harbinger's end. Kirk didn't even have the satisfaction of cutting it himself.

Kirk gritted his teeth and the next thing he knew there was a formidable dent in the desk and his hand hurt like crazy. He stared at it blankly for a few seconds before the throbbing shook him out of it. With a mighty sigh, he turned and headed for Sickbay.

Transfer his Chief Medical Officer! Now? It made no sense, and Kirk always hated it when the only reasons Starfleet Command would give for doing something was 'because I outrank you and I said so'.

The doors swooshed open and he walked through. Nurses and orderlies milled about, some attending to a couple patients, most chatting with each other. Inwardly, he smiled. It was always a good sign when Sickbay wasn't busy. The Enterprise had been on calm, routine missions lately.

Nurse Chapel spotted him and walked over. "Hello, Captain." She glanced down at his hand. "Alright, what happened?"

"I hit something," he said quietly. He gave an apologetic smile.

"I feel sorry for whatever it was you hit," she remarked, crossing to retrieve some tools. Kirk recognized a dermal regenerator and a bone knitter.

"Now, this is going to numb your hand so that you won't feel the bones reset," Chapel soothed, pushing a hypospray against his wrist.

As she spoke Dr. McCoy stepped out of his office. He walked over to them and quietly said "Thanks, Chris, I'll take it from here."

"Sure, Doctor," she replied, though her eyes read that she knew something was up. McCoy was rarely that soft-spoken.

McCoy finished fixing Kirk's hand, who flexed it as the feeling returned. "Thanks." Kirk took a deep breath and braced himself. "Bones…"

"I already know, Jim."

"You do?" Kirk backtracked.

McCoy nodded. "I got a message this morning. It wouldn't say why, though."

At that Kirk got angry all over again. "Some excuse about 'spreading resources' among the ships entering the Neutral Zone day after tomorrow. As I understand it, you're going to the Apache, which is sending us its Chief Medical Officer."

McCoy nodded again. "Dr. Carter. Never met him. He's done some pretty remarkable work with aquatic creatures."

"Yes, well." Kirk let out a long sigh. "He won't replace you."

"No one can replace anyone, Jim." McCoy started putting the supplies away.

There was a moment of silence between them. "Bones," Kirk tried. "I'm sorry." It came out as a whisper.

McCoy walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you could." He looked pointedly at Kirk's fingers. "And busted a hand in the process."

Kirk choked on a harsh laugh. "You should see the desk."

McCoy quirked an eyebrow. "Do I want to see the desk?"

Kirk acknowledged probably not and they shared a laugh. Afterwards they took a break to eat lunch together. Before Starfleet would take that away.

Spock often found illogical decisions within Starfleet Command and other branches of the Federation (what else could one expect in a society with a lot of humans and other illogical creatures?). Yet as he studied the transfer orders for Dr. McCoy, he found that he could not logically make sense of them. The reasons were fraught with holes, and there was no spectacular instance resulting in a transfer, either as punishment or a commendation. Granted, while McCoy had a record of borderline insubordination, it tended to cultivate more answers than problems.

Spock was baffled.

On the day the transfer was taking place he stopped by the doctor's quarters. A buzzer ring and 'come in' later he was standing just inside the door as McCoy finished gathering his bags. There weren't many. Only one standard Starfleet suitcase sat on the bed. Next to it was a small, black satchel. McCoy glanced up at him.

"Hello, Spock."

"Hello, Doctor." Spock remained where he was, silent. McCoy loaded his last item into the bag- the framed picture of Joanna he always kept on his desk. With it in place just so, he turned to the Vulcan.

"Well, don't be a stranger, Spock. You need something?"

Spock shifted. "I am… aware of your transfer, Doctor," he said slowly.

McCoy measured him with a level gaze. "Most people are."

"I find it," Spock hesitated. "A very illogical move."

McCoy continued to gaze at him. "Spock," he said. "You know that my transfer is to 'spread the resources' across the ships entering the Neutral Zone."

"The Enterprise, the Justice and the Apache," Spock recited.

"Right." McCoy crossed his arms. "If Starfleet is truly 'spreading the resources' across these ships, then how come the switch between Dr. Carter and myself is the only transfer on record?"

At this, Spock raised an eyebrow. "This is true," he noted.

"Good. I thought those Vulcan brains of yours would catch on." McCoy picked up his luggage.

"What precisely are you suggesting, Doctor?" Spock clarified.

McCoy shrugged and stopped in front of him. The nonchalance was offset by the serious look he directed at Spock. "Only that something may be rotten in Denmark. You and Jim had better keep an eye out. And while we're all in the Neutral Zone," McCoy moved past him. "Better keep two eyes out."

Scotty absolutely hated it whenever a good crewman got transferred (unless it was by request for something better, not that one could do much better than the Enterprise). Seeing McCoy leave was probably the worst. The doctor had seemed very thoughtful, despite the heartfelt handshake and quip 'you better watch yourself closely, Scotty. I won't be there to patch you up every time something goes wrong.' Then he'd walked up to his things on the transporter pad and beamed over. Kirk had let out such a sigh that Scotty pretended he hadn't noticed.

Then he beamed over Dr. Carter.

The man was about McCoy's age, though maybe a year or two older and had more grey hair. Quaint glasses perched on his nose and he seemed very cheerful and agreeable. He and the captain exchanged pleasantries, though while Dr. Carter's were genuine Scotty could tell when Kirk was only putting on a polite show. The doctor's laughing and upbeat character was almost the polar opposite of McCoy's somewhat surly, straightforward mood.

When everyone left the transporter room Scotty sighed. Somehow, he mused tracing a hand over the beloved console, the Enterprise didn't quite feel the same without McCoy.

He indulged in the melancholy for only a few minutes. Then he straightened and marched smartly for Engineering. He had a ship to prepare for the Neutral Zone.

Danger is coming. But the question is, danger for whom?