Worf deliberately positioned the three Anarians so that the Captain could overhear what they were saying, knowing that he would welcome any cultural insights that he could glean, particularly in the light of the incident earlier. Once they were in front of Selar the three adolescents stood in silence, fidgeting nervously. Selar raised an eyebrow and said,

'Are you hurt? Do you require anything?'

The three youths exchanged glances and Alla said,

'N…no, we're not hurt. W…we wanted to ask you something…'

'Yes?'

Alla swallowed then said,

'W…will you, I mean… is there any possibility of you considering us as your husbands?'

Selar blinked, surprise showing even through her Vulcan control, and Rin said hurriedly,

'I know we're young but we're a true triad and we're all doing well at our studies.'

'You are suggesting that I should marry all three of you?' asked Selar.

'Yes, of course. Why? Do you have a partial triad that you favour already?' asked Alla, anxiously.

'No, I am not in a relationship. On Anaris, is it usual for there to be four people in a marriage?'

'Of course,' said Jay, baffled, 'Four lobes on a Jebby leaf, four legs on a table, four seasons in a year, four people in a marriage.'

Jay was clearly quoting something that they'd all been taught and Selar could sense the captain's fascination without needing to turn to see his expression. Her first contact training suggested that questions of gender identity should be left well alone but it was a marriage proposal after all. Hesitantly, she said,

'Please do not answer this question if it is offensive but what are your gender designations?'

'We're male, of course. And you're female…aren't you?'

There was sudden concern in Alla's voice and Selar hastened to reassure him,

'Yes, I'm female.'

'Then it's possible?'

'Theoretically,' said Selar, 'but there are a large number of things that we would need to address, not least of which is that I have no desire to marry.'

'What? Never?' asked Rin, 'but you're a doctor and you're so beautiful.'

'You value intelligence ahead of appearance?' asked Selar, curiously.

'Yes… though we have an automatic hormonal response to physical beauty, of course.'

The three adolescents were all blushing but managed to keep their heads up, looking hopefully at Selar.

'It is unlikely that I will answer positively to your proposal but I am interested in hearing more about it,' said Selar.

Beverly and Jean-Luc exchanged glances, both surprised by the genuine interest in Selar's voice.

'Then you'll hear us?' asked Rin excitedly.

'I will,' said Selar serenely, 'but I reiterate that I am very unlikely to agree to marry you.'

'We understand,' said Alla, 'When would it be convenient for us to detail our proposal to you?'

'If you don't mind other people overhearing, now is convenient.'

'No, that's all right. What do you want to know?'

'Tell me about yourselves.'

An hour later, the three Anarians had told Selar and, by default Jean-Luc, Beverly and Worf, an enormous amount of information about themselves as individuals and the Anarian culture.

For all of Anarian recorded history, male births had outnumbered female births by approximately three to one. Boys over the age of ten would travel from place to place until they met the two other males with whom they would spend the rest of their lives. They would form a triad and would then go searching for a female to marry. When asked, Rin had explained that triad members all shared the same biochemical markers, unique to them, which enabled them to recognise each other and helped them to bond. Two generations ago, however, male births had started to outnumber female births by four to one, then five to one and now six to one, making the search for a wife difficult for any triad without wealth or power.

'So that's why the away team were attacked?' asked Jean-Luc.

'I think so,' said Alla, 'Unmarried women don't go about without security escorts now and married women always have their husbands with them.'

'Now?'

'It didn't used to be like that,' said Rin, 'My grandmothers remember playing on the street with the neighbourhood boys when they were girls.'

'What changed two generations ago?' asked Jean-Luc.

'No one knows.'

Jean-Luc resisted the temptation to delve deeper and silenced Beverly with a glance when she would have taken over from him. By Federation standards these were children that they were talking to (although it was fairly clear that they did not view themselves as such) and he was suddenly aware that their parents didn't even know that they were on the ship.

'Do we need to let your parents know where you are?'

'Probably,' said Rin, reluctantly.

'Follow me,' said Jean-Luc, 'We'll contact them from the Bridge.'

The young men all followed obediently but when they realised that Selar was not coming, Alla said,

'Doctor Selar, may we speak with you again later?'

'Provided that my duties allow it. And if I am busy, we will arrange a more convenient time to talk.'

'Thank you.'

Reg was recording the results of a diagnostic on a faulty coupling in the secondary power grid when he heard a thud, followed by a female voice swearing. Picking up his toolbox, he hurried towards the noise. Rounding the corner, he saw Admiral Nechayev struggling to get to her feet. Rushing forward he said,

'A…Admiral, l…let m…me help you.'

Placing an arm around her, Reg awkwardly helped Alynna to regain her feet.

'Thank you, Lieutenant.'

'Y…you're w…welcome, Ma'am. W…would you l…like m…me to help y…you g…get to S…Sickbay, Ma'am?'

'That won't be necessary. And I prefer 'Admiral', Lieutenant.'

'Y…yes, M…m…Admiral.'

Alynna smiled at him, saying,

'Thank you again, Lieutenant…?'

'Lieutenant B…Barclay, Ma'am, I m…mean Admiral.'

Alynna nodded and said,

'Dismissed.'

Reg picked up his toolbox and went to check that he'd completely tidied up, listening worriedly to Admiral Nechayev's halting footsteps slowly receding.

By the time that she reached her quarters, Alynna was exhausted and her left hip was sending sharp shards of pain up her spine with every step that she took. She collapsed on the sofa, swinging her legs up and sighing with relief as the pain lessened. If it wasn't better tomorrow then she really was going to have to go to Sickbay.

Reg frowned, staring blankly at his food. He didn't think that Admiral Nechayev had gone to Sickbay. Why she wouldn't go was beyond him; he'd spend every day in Sickbay if he could. But Reg knew that some people hated being sick or injured. Captain Picard, for instance. Reg had heard about the arguments Doctor Crusher had had with the captain about him neglecting his health, everyone had. Perhaps it was a characteristic of Command Officers? If so, what could Reg do about it? Should he do anything about it? Surely the admiral's health was none of his business? Except that Starfleet regulations specifically required officers to take action if a fellow member of Starfleet was injured or sick. But he'd also heard of people having their careers destroyed by senior officers angry at their interference. Was there a way he could let someone know unofficially? How? And was it a good idea?

Reg ate his food automatically, dithering and fretting, his mind niggling away at the problem.