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"Kahla of Sar'Fenn" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG CHAPTER 3 Archer turned the corner and resisted screaming at the crewmen to get back to work. The first few times he was able to overlook their curiosity, but this was going too far. “People, get back to work,” Archer commanded. “Now.” They scrambled to obey. Archer strode into Sickbay, repressing his anger. Phlox met him at the door. “There are a few things you need to know about Kahla before you speak to him,” Phlox began. “Who?” “The alien’s name is Kahla, the girl Trip brought back was his daughter, he’s telepathic, and making him angry wouldn’t be a wise choice.” “Did he become violent?” “Not physically.” Archer nodded, walking around Phlox. As he approached the head of the bio-bed, the two point five meter walk felt more like two point five kilometers. Kahla opened his eyes and for a split second Archer was almost convinced Kahla was an angel. But bitter anger swept it away in one stroke. Kahla was an alien -- plain and simple. “You’re so angry. Have I offended you?” Kahla asked. Archer’s chin lifted, a subconscious response as he became defensive. “No, Kahla. To what extent are you telepathic?” “I sense emotions, hear thoughts, and catch glimpses of a being’s past and future.” “Glimpses?” “Yes. Such as you skipped a meal again. I doubt that’s a good habit even for humans, Captain Archer.” “I don’t need you telling me what is good for me,” Archer snapped. Kahla turned his face away from Archer, one of his top wings snaking over his shoulder to cover his face. “Is this what humans have become?” Kahla quietly asked from behind his shield. Archer looked away, scolding himself, ‘Stop it, Jonnie! It’s not his fault for how he looks. It’s not his fault that the crew is driving you insane for how he looks. Or that... That my parents died too soon. He just lost his daughter and soon his life. What right do you have to treat him like this?’ Archer started when something velvety brushed his arm. Kahla’s wing rested against his arm and he was watching Archer. “Or is this empathy you feel for me more human?” Kahla asked. “Both are, and I have a lot more going on that has nothing to do with you, Kahla. Humans are adept at hiding our emotions from each other. This will only work if you pretend the same.” Kahla smiled, folding his wing under him. “I understand.” “We need to talk about your ship. Why--” “It wasn’t my ship, Captain Archer. I am only a cook.” “A cook?” Kahla nodded. “Do you know why you were attacked?” “All I know is what I heard from crewmen when they were in the dining hall. We were returning home and apparently picked up a distress signal from a race we were watching. We were the closest to them so we changed course. And then we were under attack.” “The closest?” “We had three ships returning to our planet. One was far ahead of us, another behind us with engine trouble. I know that because when I took my captain his meal the day before, he was discussing this with another officer.” “So there may be another ship coming?” “I don’t know, Captain Archer. Ask me how to make bread loaves, and then I can tell you something.” Archer smiled. “How do you keep your humor in the face of death?” “Because self-pity is frowned on by the Monarch, and I know that when I die my daughter will be at the gates to greet me.” Archer’s smile faded at the remark. “What do you know about humans?” “I thought you were myths, until today.” “How do you know about humans?” “Many life times ago the Monarch sent us to watch over humans.” “Why didn’t the Sar’fenn stay with us?” “The Monarch told us humans were becoming too violent for us to help and ordered us to return home.” “Is that truth or myth?” Kahla’s smile faded into deep reflection. “Today I believe the myths have shown themselves as truths, don’t you?” Archer suddenly felt cornered and retreated a step. “Get some rest. I’ll check back on you.” “Doctor Phlox told me others visited me regularly while I was not awake and you ordered them to stop. Can you reverse your order? I want to know more about humans.” Archer didn’t answer right away. ‘Humor a dying man.’ “I’m not going to die yet,” Kahla said before he could speak. “What?” “I’m not going to die yet. I haven’t heard the calling.” “The calling?” “The calling from an ancestor.” “And how do you know there will be this calling?” “It’s in the ancient texts.” Archer smiled, stopping any thought before it entered his mind. “I hope you’re right, Kahla. I’ll consider your request.” Archer turned to leave. “I’m sorry, Captain Archer.” Archer looked back at him. “What?” “I heard your thoughts about the Monarch being responsible for your parent’s departure. I know you didn’t want me to listen, but I can’t help it. I wish you understood that he had a reason for taking them.” Archer walked away, forcing back his anger. He wasn’t going to talk about his theological issues with a complete stranger. Archer stopped in the hall. He was confused by the building anxiety. Maybe it was because he knew he should revoke the visitation restriction and let Kahla have visitors before he died. Who wanted to die alone? And since Trip seemed to be impacted most by Kahla, he decided to tell him first. Archer walked to a companel, tapping it. “Archer to Trip.” Archer waited. And waited... # Archer walked into the loading bay, looking for Trip. Internal sensors said his bio-sign was supposed to be here. There was no one in the loading bay. Had he missed him? Archer turned to leave but stopped. He looked up and saw a pair of legs hanging out of the darkness above. Archer walked over to an access ladder and climbed up to the catwalk. He crossed the loading bay, seeing Trip as he drew closer. Archer stopped next to him. “Why didn’t you answer me?” Archer asked. Trip turned his head, staring at the wall. Archer sat down next to him, hanging his legs over the catwalk. “You can visit Kahla.” “Who?” “The alien. He wants to talk with humans. Apparently his race had contact with humans a long time ago and he thought we were myths.” Trip stood, staring down the catwalk. He suddenly crouched, holding Archer’s gaze when he looked at him. “And that doesn’t pique your interest even a little bit?” “What?” “We thought his kind were myths, they thought our kind were myths. The common myth should tell you something.” “Like?” “Maybe the rest of the Bible is true.” Archer looked away with a heavy sigh. “Cap’n, your parents--” “Leave my beliefs out of this,” Archer growled, glaring at Trip. “I never should have told you about that.” “Maybe there was a reason we came across them. Did you stop to think about that? Maybe we needed to be shocked in order to see His path again.” “Maybe you should leave before I change my mind.” “Cap’n, you can’t blame God for losing your parents.” “My mother and father believed in God. They believed with all their heart. My mom died of breast cancer when I was seven. My dad had a heart attack when I was twenty-three. I wasn’t ready to lose either of them, Trip! Somebody has to take the blame.” Trip didn’t speak for several long minutes. He stood and headed down the catwalk. Archer rested his chin on the middle bar, staring at the floor. He heard Trip stop. “Cap’n, just know that even when you turn your back on Him, He never turns his on you.” Archer didn’t reply. Trip walked to the ladder and climbed down. He was halfway across the bay when Archer asked, “Ever?” Trip stopped, looking in his general direction. “He hasn’t yet, has he? How else do you explain your escapes from prisons, alien attacks, a Klingon labor mine or coming back from jumps through time? He won’t turn his back on you.” Archer didn’t respond. Allowing himself to explore what Trip was saying, or holding on to anger that he’d known for so many years, tore at him. He watched Trip leave, waging his struggle in solitude. |
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