Miles O'Brien had not been counting the number of times he'd stopped and turned to look behind him. But he supposed this must have been at least the fifth. If not the tenth. "You sure you're all right?" He kept his voice as low as he could make it, but with just enough volume that he could still be heard. It wasn't the first time he'd asked that question either.
Head bowed, and with the fingers of his right hand still tracing the line of the nearest wall, Julian nodded. But his steps were unsteady. He'd negotiated the maze of scattered rocks with the clumsiness of a Algorian ground sloth rather than the confidence of the sure-footed young doctor Miles knew him to be: The same doctor who continued to defeat him at more games of racquetball than was entirely fair.
"Fine," he grumbled a little hoarsely.
"Sure?" repeated Miles. A frown was gathering on his high, round forehead.
But when they finally revealed themselves, his companion's eyes burned with hard determination. "I'm fine." His second response was louder than the first. "You want to get away from here, don't you?"
"Course I do, but…"
"Then let's get on with it."
It was difficult to tell which part of the inextricable mix of pain, irritation, and sheer pig-headedness had caused the doctor's jaw to clench so tightly. But Miles was just as capable of matching his friend's stubborn attitude when the situation called for it. Besides, there was still that memory from back at the shuttle, just before the fiery explosion that had nearly claimed them both, of how easy it could have been to abandon his own best friend to chance.
Not again, he promised himself. Not if I have any say in the matter.
Both men saw the lights that continued to shift in and out of view, nothing at all this time like O'Brien had imagined seeing during his earlier expedition. These were steady, coldly white, and narrow. And when they'd first noticed them, he and Julian had been quick to note their resemblance to the Chief's own palm beacon.
Bad news, thought O'Brien, but the light was not the only thing to catch his eye. He paused half way along the high-ceilinged chamber.
"Wait a moment…" Keeping his voice to a whisper, he pressed one hand against the base of what looked like a long and jagged tunnel, lined with the same powdery rock on every side. He leaned closer and squinted upwards, shining his torch beam directly into it. Just as he thought, the tunnel continued at a steep but not unmanageable angle, running straight up until shadows and texture obscured the artificial light.
"Now that's better." Miles laughed under his breath, and directed his next words to Julian. "I'll bet this could take us all the way up if we wanted it to."
"You think so?"
O'Brien frowned, troubled. There had been an unnervingly long silence before Julian responded to his words.
"Well, yeah. Sure. I'm no expert, but I'd guess this goes quite some distance. So - you up for a challenge?"
"I… I don't know."
So suddenly that the motion brought the slightest ache into his head, O'Brien jerked away from the mouth of the tunnel. "What?"
"Miles." Julian grimaced as he dropped onto the nearest protruding rock. "I don't think I can get through there."
"What are you talking about?" the Chief growled, turning so quickly that he almost overbalanced. "Whatever happened to, 'Don't worry. I'm fine'? Or was that someone else's voice I've been hearing the whole time?"
But an attempt to haul the doctor to his feet was met with an agonised shout of protest that was very nearly a scream. Miles stepped back, teeth clenched, glancing warily about him as the sound echoed sharply off every wall.
Breathing heavily, eyes closed as tightly as they would go, Bashir's jaw locked in a tight-throated groan. The fingers of his damaged left arm had curled into a claw, which he cradled tightly against his chest.
"Sorry…" gasped Miles, even as he silently cursed his own blatant stupidity.
"I guess…" Bashir took a long breath in and out through his mouth. "I guess I was wrong. One of the dangers of self diagnosis, I suppose."
His eyes opened, and instantly made contact with those of his companion. "You'll have to keep going without me."
"What was that?"
Heart suddenly pounding, Kira was unable to hold in the near silent hiss that escaped without warning from her mouth, and shaped itself just as unexpectedly into words. There was no reason to have asked. She knew exactly what that painful cry had been, but could only ever guess at its cause. Even now, she imagined her ears still aching from the last residual echoes.
She exchanged a brief and tension-filled glance with the captain, and both knew instantly that there was no real need for him to speak. If there had ever been a moment when they had wavered from their purpose, that moment was entirely gone. Almost as though with miniature thrusters attached to their heels and ankles, Sisko and Kira surged forward together, both newly determined to reach the source of all those clearly alarming sounds.
"Get out of here," Julian insisted fiercely. "Just… go."
"Positive?" Both the Chief's hands and one knee were already fixed upon the open ledge, with the palm torch wedged between his fingers and the stone beneath. But he turned again to glance over one shoulder at the face of his friend.
"What's the worst that can happen?" With the lights already getting much closer, Julian calculated their distance at just under half of what it had been when they'd first come into view. He fought to stop his mind from running through every possible answer, and instead allowed his expression to harden - just a little.
Miles seemed to hesitate.
"Go on." Bashir swung his good arm around in a wide arc, as if to push the reluctant engineer all the way through the tunnel. "I can't follow you now. But I will, all right? And don't think I failed to notice how much you've been longing for a break from my company."
Miles snickered. "Well, if you put it like that…"
Suddenly, Bashir tensed, with a sharp intake of air through his teeth. "Just don't go having too much fun without me," he whispered, somewhat hurriedly.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
And with that, O'Brien was gone, fading to invisibility as his light disappeared along the tunnel.
Leaning back once more, Julian sensed the touch of rough stone across his shoulders. He closed his eyes, and allowed himself a series of slightly ragged, heavy breaths. He could hear the approach of voices - a man and a woman - both of them instantly familiar, and when he finally let his eyelids open again, a narrow beam moved into his field of vision and held him trapped in an intense spotlight. Raising one hand, he squinted towards it and attempted to shield his face against the glare.
"All right," he told the silhouettes behind it, although they had taken on no more detail than mere shadows. "You got me. I surrender."
