"Ow!"

"My apologies."

"Oh, no… sorry… I think I actually ran into you… mister." The child gulped, and stuck her fists under her chin.

"It is quite alright." Data said in what he believed was a pleasant tone, in an attempt to reassure her. "Do you have a name?" He asked, in the sake of politeness, even though he could be reasonable certain that she did in fact have a name.

"Yeah."

He should have expected that answer, having not clarified that he wished to know her name. He crouched down so he could look at her face. Some buried string of programming told him that such an action may make him appear less intimidating to a child.

"Are you lost?"

"Um… Kindof? Well, mister, I know me and Momma live around here… somewhere…"

Data suspected that he was perceiving a pout forming upon her face.

"Would you like for me to help you?"

The little girl nodded as her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Let me see what I can do."

He stood up and offered her his hand. He decided he would have to try and find her parent's quarters.

"What—exactly—is your name?"

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and sniffed as she looked up at him.

"Martel."

"Is that your only name?"

"My last name is Henehan." Her hand that was not grasped tightly in his was now clenched tightly in the back of his uniform pants.

"Alright." He assured her. "Computer, room assignments for name: Martel Henehan."

"Deck 14, Section D, Number 17."

"This way, Martel."

He began walking down the corridor, guiding Martel by the hand.

"Data?" He heard his name called by a relatively high voice.

"Yes, Counselor?"

"Who is your friend here?" The Betazoid asked, as she too crouched down to talk to Martel.

"This is Martel. She is lost."

"My goodness!" She said, then turned to Martel, grinning. "And Mr. Data is helping you find your parents?"

"Yeah, he is!!" Martel laughed with the Counselor. It was an impossibly bright sound. Data was marveled by it.

"He is a pretty nice guy, then, isn't he, Martel?"

"Mm hmm. And he talked to the computer!"

"Imagine that! You know, I bet, Mr. Data could help you if you wanted to talk to the computer too."

"Really?" Big, round eyes swung up to gaze at him in awe.

"I bet he could." The Counselor stood up. "Like I said, he's a pretty nice guy! I have to get going. Bye, Data. Bye, Martel!"

"Thank you, Counselor."

"Wow, so what could I say to the computer?" Martel was now jumping up and down, both of her hands holding on to one of his as he walked.

"The computer can process most requests for trivial information, as well as perform many calculations regarding the numerous aspects of the ship's functions.

"So… I can tell it…" She seemed at a loss; perhaps that was to complex a response for someone as young as her.

"You can ask it to play a song." He said. Music is good for children, something told him.

"Play a song, Mr. Data!"

"For that we must wait until we reach your quarters. It is against regulations to play music through the corridors."

"Awww. Will we be there soon, then?"

"Yes. This is apartment number seventeen." He pressed the keypad, in the possibility that there was not a combination, which he may have to override. There was not.

When the door slid open, Martel immediately ran in to the couch. On it there was a pink, item, which she picked up, and presented to him.

"This is Bing-Bing! He's my best friend. Look at his ears!" She presented a stretch of pink fabric to him. He inferred that these were its ears.

"I see."

"You have to make it play a song now. Then I can show Momma when she gets back!" Martel sat down on the bed and tucked Bing-Bing under her chin.

"What song would you like to hear?"

"Umm… I wanna hear… The Big Big Sky!"

"Computer, Play The Big Big Sky." The song accessed was bright, moderately high pitched, and utilized a very simple chord structure. Martel immediately began to sing.

"Big Big Sky! Big Big Sky! Lots of things in the Big Big Sky! Birdie, airplaine, space ship, clouds! Lots of things in the Big Big Sky!" She suddenly looked at him. "Mr. Data, you're not singin!"

"I do not know the words."

"Big Big Sky! Big Big Sky! Lots of things in the Big Big Sky! Sing, Mr. Data, sing!"

Perhaps he should sing. The chorus seemed to repeat after every two lines of verse.

"Big Big Sky! Big Big Sky! Lots of things in the Big Big Sky!" Martel began to dance about the room with Bing-Bing in her hand. The pink toy bounced into the wall and several pieces of furniture before it collided with Data's knee. That was when his communit chirped.

"LaForge to Data."

"Data here." There was an unusually long pause before Geordi replied.

"Data, what is that in the background?"

"It is music, Geordi." He was unaware that his usually neutral tone came out as patronizing.

"What kind of music, Data?" Geordi answered in kind.

"It is children's music. It is called The Big Big Sky."

"Okay… Anyways, Data, can I get you to come down to engineering, we've found some more readings of those emissions you wanted to look at."

"I will be there shortly." Martel was staring at him again with the same look of awe on her face.

"Who were you talking to?" She asked, Bing-Bing was once again tucked beneath her chin.

"That was my friend, Geordi."

"Do you have a lot of friends, Mr. Data?"

"I have several, including Geordi, the woman you just met, and many others on board this ship."

"Can I meet any of them?"

"I do not know. I believe I would have to speak to your mother."

"Aww. Okay." She sighed, throwing her head back. "You can come in, ya know?" Data had not entered the room, because he did not believe it would be considered proper for him to be in another officer's quarters without either their presence or invitation.

"Actually, at this time, I cannot. I must leave now, Martel. It was nice to meet you." He held out his hand for her to shake it. She giggled, and shook his hand from side to side, instead of the customary up and down.

"Okay, Mr. Data."

"Goodbye, Martel."

"You have to come see me again, okay?"

"I will see. Please do not get lost again." He turned towards the turbolift shaft.

"I won't! Bye Mr. Data!!" She called, waving Bing-Bing at him as he walked down the corridor.