Chapter 7

Despite Beverly's fear that it would be very cold inside the cave, it was so cramped that their body heat actually kept it reasonably warm. But it was uncomfortable and claustrophobic and Beverly couldn't wait to get through to the other side.

"Will you answer a question for me?" She asked abruptly, after a long period of silence.

Oh no, he thought and actually paused his slow crawl forward. "Very well…go ahead," he said hesitantly.

He's afraid I'm going to mention the Tsiolkovsky incident. "If you could choose to be anywhere else right now, where would it be?"

Picard smiled, and paused to wipe a tiny piece of dirt out of his eye that was beginning to feel the size of a boulder. "Right here," he said, and resumed his crawl.

Crusher made a sputtering sound behind him.

"I beg your pardon?" He demanded, nearly scraping his head on the low ceiling.

"You expect me to believe, Captain, that of all the places you could be in the universe, you would be happiest here in this cramped space? Although I'll admit to being a little flattered by that."

"The company does help," he admitted.

"Yes, but really…here?"

"I am doing my duty," he said. "It makes no difference whether I am on the bridge or here."

"So being a captain is what makes you happiest?"

"You never said anything about happiness," he retorted. "You asked me where I would choose to be."

"Fair enough," she allowed. "How long have you been fencing?"

"Ah…perhaps since I was about thirteen. Why do you ask?" he asked, both perplexed and irritated. He never understood talking just to talk, but assumed that Beverly was merely attempting to make the uncomfortable situation a little more bearable for herself. But her questions did not make it more bearable for him.

"No reason, just curious."

"Oh," he said rolling his eyes, which he only did because she could not see him. He paused and winced trying to shake out his right elbow which was tingling from the constant pressure on the hard ground.

"Do you like it?"

He coughed, waving at the dusty air. "Do I like what?"

"Fencing."

He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he would jump out of his skin if he didn't get out and onto his feet again. "No," he said.

"What? Then why do you do it?"

"Habit, I suppose. My father was a very intelligent but…traditional man. He detested or feared advanced technology—either way he didn't care for it. Physical strength was something he did admire and to the extent that I wanted to excel in sport, he was almost supportive. Fencing is about as traditional you can get when it comes to sports. I suppose there was a time when I wished for his approval."

"I see," Beverly said quietly, somewhat surprised by this revelation. She decided not to press the point.

Yar had deftly climbed back to the area above the cavern where they'd been safely walking before Francis' slip and fall. She grabbed the man underneath his armpits and Riker pushed him up from below.

"Ready? Lift!" Riker said and to his relief it went off without a problem. What he didn't expect was that when he glanced behind him, a woman would be standing there just a meter away. She looked very human, but when she spoke, it became clear that she was not.

"Grav senya," she said.

Riker's mouth hung open, completely unsure how to approach this situation. First contact. Picard would be furious. The woman was unarmed, was relatively small, with dark eyes and hair, pale skin and was dirty and wounded. A long cut stretched down from her forehead to her chest, and her clothes hung off of her in rags. She pointed behind her, and when he squinted into the darkness, he could see about a dozen other bedraggled looking people.

"Grav senya," she repeated, taking a step toward him. "Rolani, grav meta, em Pani."

"Sir," Yar called down to him. She had been watching, and was holding her tricorder in her hand. "The universal translator is working. "Her name is Rolani. She's asking us to help her family. She says they have been 'chosen'."