"They asked for me, Sir?" Malcolm Reed blinked in surprise.

"By name, Lieutenant. Seems like you made quite an impression with ... Weapons Master Yathai."

Captain Archer's voice was no more than amiable, but the twinkle was decidedly irksome.

Seated at the Tactical Station, Malcolm decided to ignore it. He could not, however, ignore a request from a member of the planetary council to pay her a visit, however much ill-informed amusement his captain derived from it.

"With your permission, Sir," he said stiffly. "If you feel it's absolutely necessary."

"Seems like we'll be here for a while anyway," the captain went on. "They've asked to talk with T'Pol about making contact with Vulcan, so she's going down again to give them the low-down. She's due to take a shuttle down round about now, so perhaps you could go along for the ride and see how you get on with 'Weapons Master Yathai'. Take the rest of the day, if you need to."

The lieutenant rose, uncomfortably aware that a tinge of colour had appeared in his face in response to that entirely inappropriate twinkle. Across the Bridge, Trip was busy investigating some intermittent problem Hoshi had been having with her comms board, and to judge by his grin he had drawn some completely unjustified conclusions too.

He couldn't very well take his superior officers to task, but fortunately for them, both of the ensigns' faces were woodenly inexpressive. He wondered sourly how long that would last after the turbo-lift door closed behind him.

The ship had encountered the Merixa while they were investigating a pulsar. Another ship had appeared on their long-distance scanners, and like a good tactical officer should he'd monitored its approach, quietly checking that all defence and weapons systems were in perfect readiness should the new arrival prove hostile. The captain, whose implicit belief in the friendliness of other species had been dented but unfortunately not demolished by events so far, had been keen to extend the hand of friendship to anyone who was ready to grasp it.

For once, the captain's optimism had been justified. The Merixa were friendly and inquisitive, and visits had been exchanged between the ships. They'd won Trip's golden opinion by sharing some intriguing suggestions for improving the durability of some of the components of his precious engines, and enchanted Hoshi with their language, which sounded like the chirping of songbirds. Even he himself had relaxed somewhat from his initial suspicion, though not to the extent of inviting any of the visitors to inspect the Armoury. Hospitality, he felt, had its limits.

The invitation to cement good relations by following up with a visit to the Merixa's home planet had been too cordially pressed to pass up. It wasn't at too great a distance, and this, after all, was what the ship had come out into space to do: to make new friends wherever possible, as well as exploring all the non-sentient phenomena that their portion of the galaxy had to offer.

Ever the pessimist, Malcolm had thought it was all a bit too good to be true. He had refrained from mentioning this to Captain Archer, however, at least until he had something more concrete than his innate distrust of the Universe to present by way of evidence; he was in no hurry to be accused once again of having watched too many science fiction films. He had compensated for his enforced silence by being more suspicious than ever when he accompanied the away team down to the planet for the official welcome by the Merixa ruling council, but he had been somewhat discomfited to find his fears groundless for once. The planet had been beautiful, the people welcoming, and not so much as an importunate wasp (or any native equivalent) had intruded on the outdoor banquet set out in the lush gardens to fête their guests.

The Merixa were humanoid and shared some of the characteristics of humans, but they were physically somewhat elongated, perhaps a consequence of having evolved on a world whose gravity was very slightly lower than Earth's. In order to preserve their dignity the visitors had worn weighted boots, but it had been a little difficult to adjust to the way physical objects behaved in reduced gravity. Liquid poured comparatively slowly, anything dropped seemed almost to float groundwards by comparison with anything under normal Earth gravity, and a human body minus the boots was capable of performing leaps that would have beaten any record ever set on their own world.

After the formalities had been gone through and the meal eaten, everyone relaxed. The cultural briefing Hoshi had given the officers on first contact had said that Merixan society was strongly matriarchal. The majority of the natives here were therefore women, but that was not something that any of the officers present were going to object to; the male ones, in particular, this visit coming as it did at the end of a rather tedious month of routine information-gathering. It was probably inevitable that Hoshi and Travis, as the youngest, had gravitated towards a gathering of the more junior of the Merixa, and laughter had soon floated through the air – much like Travis, who had been more than ready to take his boots off when coaxed to demonstrate how the reduced gravity affected Humans. Happily, the entire gathering of dignitaries found it hilarious; the captain had displayed difficulty in concealing a grin, Trip had laughed along with everyone else, and even the ultra-reserved T'Pol had almost appeared tempted to smile.

Malcolm alone had looked on unsmiling. This was supposed to be a diplomatic occasion; the Merixa would be getting a very poor impression of Starfleet officers, in his opinion.

"You are not amused?" a melodic voice had asked from just behind his right shoulder.

That was one of the things about being built on such a slender scale: these people could move as silently as cats, though their careful, almost exaggerated gait made one think of a marionette, albeit one in the hands of a master puppeteer.

Trying not to betray how badly he'd been startled, he turned to find a rather attractive Merix smiling at him. She had long green eyes, slightly slanting upwards at the corners, and long silvery-green silky hair, which made him think of a mermaid. Her skin was the colour of the darkest honey. Her lips were an almost amber hue, and were as attractive as the rest of her. The one thing in which her species differed significantly from Humans was that they had what appeared to be three slender protuberances growing in a line along each cheekbone; he'd thought at first that these were whiskers like a cat's, but they were too thick and appeared to contain muscle, like the barbels on the lower jaw of a catfish. They were constantly in motion, reminding him disconcertingly of small slender snakes, though the tip of each was a tiny pad of flesh about whose function he was far too polite to enquire.

"I don't feel that the ensign's behaviour is wholly appropriate for the occasion," he said tightly, wishing that Captain Archer had a less relaxed attitude towards the members of his crew.

"But no-one is offended," she pointed out, gesturing around. "Should one not relax, among friends?"

I have no friends. He couldn't very well say that, however, so he'd contented himself with an inclination of the head, conceding the point.

"You are not drinking," she noted. "May I fetch you something?"

"Nothing, thank you, ma'am. I'm on duty."

"You are Lieutenant Reed, the Head of Security on your ship." Her face had become serious, and the pupils of her eyes widened – far more noticeably than those of a human, reminding him once more of a cat. "You need have no concerns for the safety of your people here. Nobody will harm them."

"I'm sure of that. But I have to obey regulations." He spoke quite gently, not wanting her to be offended. "If we had an emergency on the ship and we had to return unexpectedly, it wouldn't be appropriate for me not to be able to deal with the situation."

"It is admirable that you take your duties so seriously. As I take mine."

He hadn't been able to conceal his astonishment. He'd been informed that the Council had their own chief of security, Weapons Master Yathai, and had expected to be introduced to him or her in due course. It did not seem possible that this young, slender, and very feminine personage could be someone with such grave responsibilities; he must have misunderstood her.

But it seemed that he had not. She was indeed his opposite number in the Merixan hierarchy, as a few words confirmed.

Very few more were necessary to establish that she was not occupying the role as a decoration. For all that the security risk of the occasion was assessed as extremely low, she had not been dismissive of it for that. He nodded approval of her recital of the measures she'd taken to ensure the visitors' safety. There were currently no conflicts in progress among the Merixa, she explained, but that did not mean she could be careless.

He thought, though naturally did not say, that it was refreshing to encounter someone else who actually took security with the appropriate seriousness. Being human, he also thought that it was even more refreshing to encounter someone attractive with whom he could talk as a kindred spirit. They were soon immersed in a discussion that wandered through subjects that were evidently dear to both their hearts, but which to any outsider would have been tiresomely technical. Although he was constantly alert to stay sternly away from revealing anything that might be even close to classified information, she had seemed equally aware of the need to avoid these boundaries. The remainder of the visit had been both relaxing and pleasant – the first such occasion for a very long time that he could recall.

Now, as he went through the shuttlepod's pre-flight checks, he was conscious of a small glow of anticipation that he sternly repressed. He didn't know why Weapons Master Yathai had asked to speak with him again, and there were a great many duties aboard Enterprise that this return visit would force him to delegate or postpone. All in all, it was an inconvenience, not to mention an occasion for his colleagues to indulge in a great deal of inappropriate speculation at his expense. Despite what the captain had said, he had no intention of lingering down on the planet for a moment longer than absolutely necessary.

T'Pol was occupying the co-pilot's seat. For the occasion, in view of her temporary status as a representative of Vulcan as opposed to Starfleet, she was wearing her formal robes, and seemed more unapproachable than ever.

"I believe you also have business with the Merixa, Lieutenant," she said as he closed the channel after informing the launch bay supervisor he was ready to depart.

"Nothing that I was aware of, Sub-Commander," he answered, his voice as neutral as hers. The bay doors opened and the shuttlepod slipped gracefully down and out, responding to his light touch on the navigational controls as docilely as ever.

The planet Javna, which the Merixa inhabited – the third in its star's system of four – had a ring of debris much like Saturn's, probably the remains of one of its moons, of which three were left. Few of the pieces were larger than a human fist, but there were billions of them, spread out in a glimmering narrow plane around the planet's equator. As the shuttle banked easily wide of it, the sunlight glanced off the ice of which many of the bits were composed, turning it momentarily into a gigantic prism.

Wish on a rainbow, said a voice from his childhood. In other circumstances, and had he been much younger, he might even have said it aloud, but the chances of his current companion having heard of the saying were almost as remote as her sympathising with it if she had.

It was better, on all counts, to say nothing.

And besides, he'd long ago given up wishing on anything.