Enterprise was only one day from Klingon space.

Meara was increasing the intensity of her visualisation exercises. Melding with T'Pol had certainly helped her refine the technique. She could feel the sand beneath her feet, the weight of the Bat'leth in her hand. She could inhale the scent of Klingon sweat and blood, taste the Blood Wine on her lips. She felt the vibration of Qo'nos surge through her veins.

All preparing her for the trial ahead.

Meara had no intention of dying, nor any intention of killing her opponent. Much as she respected the Klingon way of life, she also embraced the compassion and mercy that came with being human, albeit an Augmented one. If there was to be any future collaboration between their two worlds, there would have to be a middle ground, an understanding that not every encounter had to end in death, as attractive as the prospect of a knees up in Sto-vo-kor afterwards might sound. In fact, Klingons seemed - to her at least - to be a little too literal with the interpretation of their own mythology. Sto-vo-kor welcomes warriors who die in battle against their enemies or, those who perform a heroic deed. Heroes are defined by their courage and nobility. And what could be more noble than sparing life? It made her a little queasy to think of the damage that could have been done had Phlox not made his discovery. All those lives, a species brought to its knees. Some people didn't deserve to use the title, Human. No matter how far we have come as a sentient species, there's always a few who prefer the dark to the light. In the dark, we can be whatever we want, and fool ourselves into thinking we are more than we are. In the light, all the scars of our evolution are plain to see. There is no running away and hiding from the cold reality, that at one time, we crawled on our bellies and cannibalised the dead. Embracing all those scars and loving them for what they define about Humanity is the only way to move forward and keep moving forward.

So here we are. Speeding towards an alien race and a future full of potential…

"Archer to Shaw."

"Go ahead, Captain."

"Can you join me in the Command Centre please. We've received final instructions from Kolos and I need to go over them with you, Reed and Hayes." "I'll be right there, Sir." "Great. Archer out."

"A species can be judged on the strength of its weakest link." Archer paused to allow the words to sink in. Meara knew where this was going. "Those were the words Kolos spoke when he laid out the terms for the trial by combat."

He continued. "Case in point, the weakest link amongst this ship full of humans - present company accepted, T'Pol - that represents our species is Ensign Shaw. Or, at least that is what the Klingons believe."

"She is one of the most recent additions to the crew and the trial is designed to test the strength of the chain of command and the leadership qualities of this Captain by pitting what is perceived to be weakest member of our crew against the youngest, most fresh-faced warrior the Klingons have to offer."

Suddenly, everything became crystal clear. Malcolm hadn't been sure why Meara was required to appear as one of the crew, though it wasn't his place to ask questions until those in command chose to share their plans. But obviously, for the ruse to work, everyone on board had to believe that's exactly what she was. If she'd come on board as Ambassador, everyone would have treated her with the excessive respect a diplomat deserved. This way, as part of the crew, she could blend in and Archer could be convincing when he presented her in front of the Klingon Chancellor and High Command. It was quite brilliant in its simplicity. Malcolm wondered if Kolos was in on the fact that their "weakest link" was in fact the next step in human evolution…

"We will be required to make a show of strength. Weakness is not accepted in any form, as we all know. And many of the High Council who have grudgingly agreed to this meeting would love to see Kolos - and us - fall flat on our face."

Archer looked at Reed and Hayes. "With that in mind, I'd like you both to assemble two teams containing five members in each team - from Enterprise Security and the MACOs. Your best, gentlemen. Be selective."

"Yes Sir," they replied in unison.

"T'Pol and I will be meeting privately with Kolos—". Malcolm interrupted. "Are you sure that's wise, Captain? It may not be safe, there are still a lot of unknown elements in this situation." Archer smiled. Malcolm wouldn't be the best Head of Security in Starfleet if he didn't factor such scenarios and feel comfortable voicing them.

"Don't worry Malcolm. We will be rendezvousing with his Cruiser just shy of Klingon space."

He looked at his officers and heaved a breath. "Everyone clear?" "Yes Sir."

"Good. Let's do Humanity proud."

Malcolm caught up with Meara on her way back to her quarters. "Are you ready for this, Meara?" She stopped and looked at him, always warmed by his concern for the people he had chosen to allow to come close to the real Malcolm. "As ready as I'll ever be, Lieutenant. Do something for me, will you?"

"Anything." He looked somewhat relieved that she would ask. "Keep an eye on my back. And the Major's." She resumed her walk and Malcolm fell in beside her. "Now that goes without saying…"

"Trust, Malcolm. It's the most important factor in any relationship. Especially relationships like ours."

"I know," he replied.

"You were right back there. There are a lot of unknown elements. Regardless of the discussion and agreements understood between Earth and Klingon governments, we are the ones out here putting our lives on the line. Just keep that finely-tuned paranoid edge of yours front and centre when we're down there."

"Finally," he said with a slight smile while accentuating that beautiful British tone of his. "Back in my comfort zone…"

Hayes wasn't far behind as they reached the turbolift. As he came up behind them, Meara stepped through the door and looked over Reed's shoulder, catching his eye. He heard her say in an amused tone, "you can get the next one, Lieutenant." Before he could question why, the door slid shut and he felt the looming presence of the Major step up beside him.

"So," Hayes said, "what do you think? We got a snowball's chance in Hell of pulling this off?"

Reed stepped into the turbolift ahead of Hayes and turned around. "I think with a little luck and a lot of faith in Ambassador Shaw, we have every chance of pulling this off." His tone wasn't completely convincing and Hayes could detect just the slightest hint of doubt in his reserve. "As I said, lots of unknowns, and while thinking on my feet isn't completely second nature, I've got a feeling I'm going to get a lot of opportunities to practice on this mission."

Hayes smiled. He was still marvelling at the changes in Malcolm since Meara's arrival on board, even experimenting with a dark sense of humour. Well, darker than normal anyway. Maybe it was time to push the envelope a little.

Reed felt the jolt as the turbolift came to an abrupt halt. "What the—?"

"Apologies, Lieutenant," he heard Hayes say, though Reed didn't hear so much as a hint of regret in his tone of voice.

He stepped in front of Reed, again invading his personal space and transporting him back to the evening in his quarters.

"Hayes…" There was the smallest hint of warning on the edge of his voice. "We agreed…"

"Yes we did, Malcolm," Hayes said quietly. His eyes were dark and it was abundantly clear to Malcolm what was going through Hayes' mind. He was quite sure they were the same thoughts flooding his as well. "But as you so correctly pointed out, there are a lot of unknowns. And I don't want to go on this mission without knowing at least one thing…"

Hayes moved forward as Reed backed into the turbolift wall. There was no concern on his face, just curiosity as to what Hayes was planning. Hayes placed both his hands on the wall, either side of Reed's neck. Careful to keep their bodies apart, he trained his eyes on Malcolm's and leaned in.

The next eleven seconds were quite possibly the sweetest eleven seconds of Malcolm Reed's life. At least, he certainly could never recall an incident - either handling new weaponry or being held in someone's arms - that resulted in goosebumps travelling the entire length of the back of his body right down to his Achilles heel.

Hayes dropped his hands and stepped back. Reaching for the panel, he started the turbolift up again.

For a moment, Malcolm said nothing. Finally coming back to his senses, he cleared his throat, tugged at the neck of his uniform - as if that would increase the lung capacity he had seemed to have momentarily lost - and tugged his sleeves down making a show of straightening his uniform. Hayes for his part, remained silent, his full attention given over to the turbolift door.

"That," said Malcolm finally, "was singularly the meanest thing you have ever done. And yes, it beats even a detached retina. By a long shot."

"Well, I thought it was very good actually," Hayes said nonchalantly.

Reed sighed as the lift came to a halt. "I mean," he continued, "now I know what I'm missing. I did not need to know what I was missing before we go into a dangerous and unpredictable situation."

Hayes stepped through the door and turned to face him. Before the door shut, he said casually, "Don't think of it as what you'd been missing, Malcolm. More like what you've got to look forward to…" Before Malcolm could respond, the door slid shut and Hayes turned towards the MACO Unit with a smile on his face. He could get used to getting one over on his senior officer.

'Damn the man,' thought Malcolm, as the turbolift sped towards the Bridge. He smiled to himself. 'Little soldier boy thinks he's got some moves and the jump on me? When this mission is over, he's in for the shock of his MACO life.'