Author Notes: Hello again! Thanks for all your reviews - I'm so glad you like it! Just so you don't get misled, this is not going to turn into a romance, just a friendship.

Chapter 2: A Fool's Hope

The compound was silent as every slave wolfed down their food as fast as was physically possible. Tucked away in their little corner, away from the other alien slaves, and far away from the five Klingons who inhabited the area nearest the door, Malcolm and Katrina huddled, finishing off the processed glop that was meant to sustain them. It was night on the moon that they mined, and the temperature had dropped considerably. Malcolm's breath rose in frosty clouds as he tried to keep warm. It had been four months since he had awoken on Enterprise to the sound of alarms; four months of hell. If he wasn't keeping himself awake and avoiding the foremen, he was avoiding the other slaves and keeping himself and Katrina away from everyone. Humans were regarded as a weaker, minority race, and as such, easy to bully.

Katrina put her bowl down, and curled up next to Malcolm, "You're thinking again. I've told you it's not good for you. Brooding on the past will do you no good."

"I can't help it. I refuse to accept that this will be my life until I die."

"It's been too long Mal. No one's coming."

"I can't give up," Malcolm turned his crystalline blue eyes to Katrina, "If I do, I won't last here much longer."

Katrina leaned her head on his shoulder, "Hope is a shred that lives in the darkness, sparked only when all reason is gone."

"What?"

"My Mum used to say it to me when I was little. A fool's hope is better than none at all I suppose." She smiled, and linked her arm into his to get warmer, "You never know, you're foolish mind might get us out one day."

Malcolm smiled in return, "Get some sleep, I'll take first watch."

"Move!" The Andorian woman in front of Malcolm was shocked into moving again, albeit slowly. While he had been on watch, he had over heard some bug-like aliens that Katrina had called the Ri'kya, say that they didn't think she would last another shift. They moved single file, further down into the mines, to a recently dug tunnel where a new vein of Oribium had been discovered. Malcolm's feet were already aching; the soles had been shredded on his first day, and now each time he walked over the jagged rock of the mine floor, old cuts reopened. Tools were handed out, and the slaves set to work. Soon, clouds of black dust and chippings came away from the rock as their primitive tools connected with resounding echoes. Katrina had explained to him that by giving the slaves less effective tools, there was less chance of rebellion.

Malcolm coughed harshly as the coarse particles of rock stuck in his throat. The Klingon next to him shook his head like a dog, showering him with a cloud of the horrible stuff, but Malcolm knew better than to say anything.

The work continued on as it usually did for many hours, until Katrina froze. Worried for his friend, Malcolm whispered, "What is it? You don't want to get shocked." When her eyes met his, a horrible feeling settled in his stomach; she looked petrified, an emotion she had never displayed before.

"Listen."

Malcolm frowned, only hearing the chinks as metal hit stone. Then a cracking sound reached his ears, getting louder. Katrina opened her mouth, and screamed, "Cave-in!"

Immediately, tools were downed, as the slaves all clamoured for the entrance. Malcolm and Katrina were near where the tunnel was being dug further into the rock, and he knew they'd never make it. He grabbed Katrina's arm, and yanked her back, just as the roof began to collapse. As they fell back, they hit the Andorian woman, and toppled away from the falling rock, which crushed many of the slaves who had been working near them. As the dust cleared, Malcolm could see that he and Katrina were well and truly trapped. A mauled foot stuck out from the rubble.

Malcolm scrambled over the fallen rock to get to Katrina, who groaned, "Are you okay Mal?"

"Me? You're the one who looks half dead."

"Thanks, you really know how to flatter a girl. You don't look too hot yourself." She gestured towards Malcolm's arm, which had a huge gash running down it, bleeding profusely. Katrina sat up shakily, "Woah. You sure the cave-in's stopped? Because the world is still moving." She half joked, clutching her head.

"Lie still. I'm going to try and dig us out." A coughing interrupted him. Moving away from his friend, Malcolm tentatively moved over to the body, praying that it wasn't a pissed off Klingon. Two antennae came into view in the half light created by the dying lamp. Reaching out, "Are you okay?"

His hand was knocked weakly away, "Don't touch me pink skin!"

Malcolm raised an eyebrow, "I asked you a question. If you are well enough, I need you to help me dig."

Katrina snorted as she scrambled shakily to her feet, "She wouldn't help even if she could. If only to spite us."

Malcolm glared at her as the Andorian sank into another coughing fit, "She's injured."

"So? When are you going to learn Mal? In this galaxy, your only friends are your own race." She began to shift rock, "C'mon, help me."

Malcolm and Katrina had been digging for what seemed like days, but what wasn't yet an hour. Their hands were bloody and torn as they snagged against the rocks they shifted, and their breathing became more and more laboured as they fought for oxygen. According to Katrina, it was protocol to dig for two hours after a cave-in, in case any slaves could be salvaged. After that, they would be dead.

Malcolm tugged on a particularly stubborn rock, and fell back hard as it came free, landing on his already painful arm. He was about to select another rock, when the Andorian began making choking noises, convulsing grotesquely. Her originally blue skin was turning white. Suddenly, the convulses stopped. Malcolm searched for a pulse, but found none. "Good." He heard Katrina mutter, "Less air being used up."

"Not really."

"Oh Malcolm-"

"I don't mean that. She didn't just die suddenly, she was our canary."

"Excuse me?"

"On Earth, miners used to use a bird called a canary while they worked. If the bird died, it indicated the presence of gas. The Andorian had a poorer health, so was first to succumb. We'll be next if we don't get out."

"Perfect." Katrina spat.

Katrina swayed sideways, stars dancing on her eyes, and she fainted. "Shit." Malcolm cursed. He tore away at the rock, and then froze. A crumbling sound could be heard, and then light filtered in at the top of the rock pile.

A voice called in, "Survivors?"

"Two!" Malcolm yelled back.

The hole was quickly widened, and Malcolm hurriedly shoved Katrina out, following after. One of the Ri'kya asked, "You sure she ain't dead?"

In answer to its question, Katrina coughed, and dizzily sat up when she saw she was surrounded. A foreman yelled, "Third Shift over!" just as the klaxon sounded.

Everyone traipsed back to the compound, Malcolm steadying Katrina. He made a note to avoid the now four Klingons, who all looked at the two of them as if they had murdered their friend.

Only an hour passed, before three burly foremen entered the compound. "Apparently, one of you little shits called the cave-in. As you know, it is forbidden for any slaves to call orders. Who did it?"

Malcolm tensed as he saw one of the Klingons break into a grin. He pointed at the two humans. "Shit," Malcolm muttered. He knew any punishment the foremen dealt out would likely kill Katrina in the state she was in. Steeling himself, he stood up and called out as defiantly as he could, "Yeah, I called the cave-in."

Below him, he heard Katrina attempt to protest, but he had already walked towards the foremen. The intimidating creatures placed metal restraints around his wrists, and led him out of the compound. After a while of walking upwards, Malcolm was led to a well lit room, where a revolting Pensari alien was standing. Malcolm was kicked to his knees. One of the foremen spoke, "This is the one, sir. Troublemaker by the look of 'im and all. Refused to call me sir back in Compound Eight"

"Really?" The Pensari moved forwards and cupped Malcolm's chin in his hand, forcing him to meet the unnatural purple eyes, "Well, we can't have that." He considered Malcolm for a moment, and then, "Thirty lashes for calling orders, five lashes for showing no respect to authority. Issue the punishment as quickly as possible and return to your work."

"Yes sir." The foremen physically dragged Malcolm out of the room and into another, dark room. His restraints were removed, and he was then strung up by his wrists so that his toes just touched the ground. His arm screamed in protest as the gash reopened.

The punishment was almost unbearable. Each time the leather struck his back, he thought he would pass out. By the time the lashing was over, Malcolm was slumped forwards, only being held up by his wrists. The rope was removed from the groves it had dug into his wrists, and two of the foreman dragged the half conscious man back to the compound.

Malcolm hit the metal floor with a thud. He was then immediately moving again, being dragged over to the corner where he and Katrina had made their home. "Malcolm?" Her voice filtered through the ringing in his ears, "Malcolm, open your eyes, look at me."

Weakly, Malcolm complied. She sighed, "You are truly a fool, I've only known you four months and still you do something like this for me." She took a canister of water and some relatively clean cloth. She then poured it over the lacerations that riddled Malcolm's back, arm and wrists, washing the dirt and blood away. Finally, Katrina bound the wounds with the cloth, "I've cleaned you up as best as possible, but there will be extensive scarring. Here, drink this, and sleep." She handed him the water, allowing him to gulp the remainder down.

"Thanks." Malcolm murmured as he curled up to try and rest.

Katrina sighed. She had met a few humans when she had served in the same household as her mother before moving into the mines, but this one was the strangest. Katrina curled up next to him, keeping alert for danger. For the first time, a spark of hope burned within her. Maybe this human would make things change.

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: Review! Please! And I may update soon!