"Kahla of Sar'Fenn" by A. Rhea King Rating: PG Disclaimer: Don't own them, CBS/Paramount does. Summary: Enterprise discovers a sole survivor aboard a destroyed ship. His appearance is something of myth and has the crew in an uproar, and forcing Archer to face past demons he thought he'd long since buried. CHAPTER 2 The light indicating the shuttle bay was pressurized had barely turned green when Archer stormed in. He walked up to the side hatch of the shuttle pod and waited, but it didn’t open. He tapped the controls and pulled it open. Archer stormed in, ready to start yelling, but his rage faded at what he found inside. Mayweather sat in the pilot’s chair, staring at the female corpse on the floor. Trip was crying over it, staring at the alien’s face. “Were they all like her?” Archer asked. Trip nodded. “She was holding onto the escape pod latch. I think whoever was inside was close to her,” he whispered. The corpse looked like she was in her late teens. Her young face was perfect and beautiful. Archer crouched down, hesitantly laying his hand on one wing. It was firm like a bird’s wing with feathers soft as velvet. Archer picked up her hand, expecting it to be stiff but it was still fluid. He guessed she was the bio-sign that died just as he was dispatching Trip. “The ship was full of them,” Trip said, getting to his feet. Archer looked up at Trip. Trip’s fists were clenched; his anger repressed but dangerously close to the surface. “What could they have done to make the Orions kill them all?” Archer slowly stood, holding Trip’s gaze as he stood. “I know what you think these aliens are, Trip, but they’re not. They’re just aliens that look like angels. That’s all. And as for what they did, we don’t know. We don’t have the whole story. Hoshi’s trying to link to their computer still.” “The atmosphere on that pod was thin. The ang... The alien inside was against the door and barely conscious. Is Phlox looking at him?” “Yes. Trip, we have to talk about your conduct a few min--” “And how would you have acted if you were alone, faced with aliens that look like angels? Oh. Wait. You stopped believing God exists, therefore, angels can’t exist either.” Trip stormed out. Archer looked back at the corpse, foreseeing a serious problem about to arise aboard his ship. # Captain Archer turned the corner into the hall leading to Sickbay and stopped. Crewmen were crowded outside the doors, which weren’t opening for some reason. Archer sighed, feeling T’Pol brush against him as she came around the corner. She stopped; surprised to find so many crewmen in the hall. “Aren’t you people supposed to be somewhere other than outside of Sickbay?” Archer asked. They turned to him, bombarding him with questions: “Is it true they’re angels?” “Do they fly?” “What were they doing on a starship?” “Were they coming back to Earth?” Archer held up his hands, quieting them. “They are aliens. Beyond that, we know nothing more about them. What I do know is that all of you have duties that don’t include gathering around Sickbay. If you don’t disperse immediately and return to your duties, you will be reprimanded.” The crowd began dispersing, making way for Archer and T’Pol to enter Sickbay. # The alien was on the scanner bed and Phlox stood beside it, reviewing data on a PADD. He looked back when the two entered. “Did you ask the crewmen to leave?” He motioned at the door. “I had to disable the doors to keep them out.” “Yes. How is he? It is a he, correct?” “Yes, and I don’t know how he is.” “He’s been here for six hours.” “I can’t make heads or tales of his physiology. None of his organs are where I expect them to be, and an organ I think is for one thing, turns out to be for something else. Commander Tucker mentioned there were deceased on the ship.” “When was he here?” “He’s been here every hour since the alien was brought in, checking on him. He is strangely concerned about the being.” T’Pol walked over to the bed, studying the alien’s face. Archer shook his head. “This is turning into a circus.” “The crew are calling him an angel, but I haven’t been able to find any medical files on the species. Could you contact Starfleet med--” Phlox asked. “Angels are mythical beings and most human religions have them in one form or another. This,” Archer pointed at the alien, “is a new species and we don’t have medical records on it.” “Then why have the crew been calling him an angel?” “Because he looks like one.” “But you just said angels were mythical beings.” “They are!” Archer’s frustration slipped out in his tone. Phlox recoiled. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I’ll have a corpse transported over so you can do a dissection. That’s why you asked, isn’t it?” “Yes.” Archer joined T’Pol, watching her turn to him. “I have seen this species,” T’Pol told him “Where?” “In several historical documents.” Archer frowned at her. “Please tell me they weren’t religious documents.” “No. Historical economical documents.” “Economical?” “The Sar’fenn traded--” “You mean Seraphim?” “No. Sar’fenn.” “The two names sound similar. What about the documents?” “The Sar’fenn traded with Vulcans for nearly two hundred years. Then one day we were informed that they wouldn’t be returning. They had been ordered by their Monarch to watch over an alien race in a nearby system but something had happened and their Monarch ordered them not to return to this area. We never saw them again.” “Contact the High Command and have them send as much data as they can dig up on the Sar’fenn. Their language would be beneficial for Hoshi.” T’Pol left to obey. “Phlox, I don’t want any crewmen visiting this alien for the time being.” “Captain?” “They’re getting confused between myth and reality. No one is to visit him until I say otherwise.” “Yes, Captain.” Archer walked out of Sickbay. There was a small, nagging, irrational voice that was beginning to question the myth and reality in himself. He was determined to ignore it. # “They were Orion ships.” Archer came out of his trance, looking across the table at T’Pol. She sat on his right hand side, watching him. Trip sat on his left, poking at his food. “I’m sorry?” “The debris is from three Orion war ships. Ensign Sato was able to find their recorders. We still don’t know what happened, though. The recorders were heavily damaged and she doesn’t know if she will ever find out what happened in the last minutes.” “Orion war ships are heavily armed. Did you detect equal or greater armament on the Sar’fenn’s ship?” “No. They were no better armed than we are, Captain.” “Must have been pretty cunning to outwit and destroy three Orion ships.” “Or blessed,” Trip told his steak. Archer sat his fork down, turning to him. “You and I need to talk about this. I’ve heard you’ve been supporting the crewman’s belief that this Sar’fenn is an angel. You need to stop.” Trip glared at him. Archer looked at his plate. “Why can’t you see the difference, Trip? These aliens aren’t myths. They’re real.” “Why can’t you accept that they my be the truth behind the myths?” Archer took a drink. “Or maybe...” Trip trailed off. Archer lowered his glass, looking at Trip. Trip’s eyes narrowed. Archer sensed a fight brewing. He should just change the subject, but his stubbornness got the better of him. “Or maybe what?” “Or maybe that would mean you’d have to believe in God.” “Enough!” Archer slammed his glass on the table. Iced tea splashed out, but he didn’t notice. Trip shook his head, looking at his meal. He stood, again glaring at Archer. “Good night.” Trip walked out. Archer looked down, regretting ever telling Trip about why he’d lost his faith. He never anticipated the conversation would come back like this. “May I ask--” T’Pol began. “No. It’s not open for discussion.” “Then you haven’t reviewed the documents that the High Command sent us?” Archer looked at her. “I’m sorry, T’Pol. No. I haven’t had a chance.” “It is intriguing. They apparently have, or had, several spices highly valued in dozens of solar systems. Vulcans themselves don’t care for the spices, but the high trade value was enough that a commodity house was built specifically for its trade. It had a drastic impact on our economy when they left.” Archer smiled. “I’ll be sure to read it tomorrow if I get the chance.” “Of course.” The two resumed eating, T’Pol watching him. “It is unlike you and Commander Tucker to argue like this, Captain.” “Leave it alone, T’Pol.” She drank a sip of water, still watching. Archer looked up at her. “It’s a touchy subject between he and I,” he explained. “It has been since we met.” “On a day that you feel comfortable, Captain, perhaps you could explain it to me,” T’Pol said. “One day I probably will.” She nodded once and they resumed eating in silence. # Phlox heard movement behind him and turned. The Sar’fenn was trying to get up. Phlox sat the samples in his hand down and rushed over to stop the alien. The alien looked up at him, staring intently. “You need to relax,” Phlox said. The Sar’fenn’s eyes narrowed a little. Phlox laid his hand on the Sar’fenn’s chest and it felt like electricity was running up his arm. The Sar’fenn smiled. It was open, honest, and beautiful. He caught Phlox’s wrist as he pulled his hand back, and pushed Phlox’s hand against his chest. The feeling returned, but it became warm and relaxing. The alien released his hand, but the feeling stayed with Phlox, and he found himself wishing it would never fade. “Once we get around this language barrier, you’ll have to tell me more about how you do that,” Phlox told him. “Language.” The Sar’fenn motioned Phlox to keep talking. “All right. I’m Doctor Phlox. You’re aboard Enterprise, and--” “I hear and understand.” The Sar’fenn smiled again. “What is your name?” “Phlox. And you are?” “I am Kahla.” “You speak English?” “We’re acutely telepathic and learn languages by accessing memories. It is both a curse and a blessing. I can assure you that trying to keep a child from knowing about a surprise birthday party can be tricky. You must always keep your mind on something else when they are around.” Phlox laughed, surprised by the Sar’fenn’s humor. “I surprise you?” he asked Phlox. “We don’t meet many aliens that enjoy a sense of humor.” “Our Monarch tells us that humility is essential. If you cannot laugh at yourself, you are destined to extinction. And in my two hundred and thirty-six years, I’ve laughed a great deal at myself.” “Two hundred and thirty-six? You look very well for your age.” He smiled again. “We don’t change in appearance once we have reached the age of bearing. We look this way forever, even when we meet with the Monarch.” “The Monarch is a supernatural being?” “He is who we bless when we rise each day. I bless him for my survival now.” Phlox sobered at the mention of survival. Quietly he informed Kahla, “I don’t know how much longer you’ll be alive. I think you’ve suffered extensive injuries, and by the time I understand your physiology, it may be too late.” The Sar’fenn saddened and it tore at Phlox’s heart. Again it was a surprise to him, for he had never been so touched by an alien’s sorrow like this. He was certain the telepathy had a lot to do with it. “My daughter died too. I thought she was lost when I left the kitchen. She was injured and non-responsive. I reached an escape pod and boarded. I was preparing to launch when I heard her screaming for me. I turned and saw her through the window. She was begging me to wait and I tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t open. She was bleeding and died before my eyes.” Kahla looked at Phlox, tilting his head. “She said the strangest thing on her dying breath. She told me, ‘Our first care will save you. The Monarch asks you to rejoin them to his path and will then bring you home.’ Do you think she heard the Monarch as she died?” “Most beings, when they die, say strange things as the brain ceases to function. It’s hard to tell what she heard, thought, or saw.” Kahla nodded, looking away. “I agree. How could our first care come to save me? I’m sure they have all perished by now.” “You care for other species?” “Yes. By the order of the Monarch. The Chosen go between his world and ours, and they tell us whom we should tend to. Our ancient texts say we’ve ushered the growth of thousands of species. Once they have taken to the black skies, we depart, but often continue to trade with them.” “That’s a great responsibility.” “Yes, but I have always been happy to be an aid in this, even if my only task is to feed my ship’s crew.” Kahla looked at Phlox. “I have never seen your species. What do you call yourselves?” “Denobulans.” “You are the healer, correct?” “Yes.” “Are there many of you on this ship?” “This isn’t a Denobulan ship. This is a human ship.” Kahla’s kind face clouded with anger and it struck Phlox with breathtaking intensity. It felt like someone grabbed his heart and began squeezing. It threatened to send him to his knees. Phlox put his hand over his heart, gasping. “How dare you!” Kahla growled with a resonating voice. “What?” Around Phlox the air came alive with the electricity he’d felt when he’d first placed his hand on Kahla, but this time it was a threatening promise of death. The pain caused white light to begin brightening behind Phlox’s eyes, cast a glowing aura around Kahla. “How dare you mock me!” “I wasn’t mocking you!” “You were using my tale of my daughter against me! With my last breath I will usher you to the beyond and the Monarch will punish you for eternity!” Phlox swallowed hard. He stepped back, forcing himself to remain calm and reacting to the overwhelming sense of anger. “I don’t know what I said that was mocking.” “You say this is a human vessel! Humans are myths! Our first care! Our single failure!” Dots quickly connected and Phlox smiled despite the pain in his chest. “Myths seem to be the mainstay right now, Kahla. The humans feel the same way about you. I think your two races have more history than either of you realize.” The anger faded and the pain in Phlox’s chest and the charged air vanished in an instant. The glowing aura faded from Phlox’s vision. Kahla’s face returned to the calm, serene expression. “You speak the truth?” Kahla quietly asked. “Yes.” Kahla looked confused. He turned his head, staring across the Sickbay. “I heard they look like us in form.” “They do.” Kahla nodded. He looked back at Phlox. “Ask a human to visit me. I must see one for myself.” “My captain, Captain Archer, asked me to alert him when you were conscious.” Kahla smiled. “He is anxious to meet a myth too?” Phlox shook his head. “No. He hasn’t reacted to your appearance like the rest of the humans have. I don’t believe he thinks you are the race of humanity’s myth.” Kahla’s smile faded. “I see.” “But he is concerned about your well-being. He did order your rescue.” “He is honorable?” “Yes.” “Thank you for inviting him for me.” Phlox turned and walked to a companel. “Phlox to Archer.” He looked back at the Sar’fenn, wondering, ‘How much of their history intersects? Perhaps he was too hasty in determining these aliens as non-mythical creatures. Perhaps the myth and reality have merged at a crossroad after all.’ “Go ahead,” Archer replied. “The Sar’fenn is awake and would like to meet you.” “I’ll be there shortly.” “Myths are often based on reality, Doctor Phlox,” Kahla said. Phlox smiled. “I see I’ll have to be careful not to think anything bad of you.” Kahla smiled. Phlox couldn’t see it, but he felt warmth and rejoicing wash over him. Back to Chapter 1 Continue to Chapter 3

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