"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 4 Archer entered Sickbay and stopped. He was surprised to find Chaplain Frank Kingswell standing next to the alien’s bed. Due to Starfleet policy, a Chaplain had to be assigned to Enterprise and he was the only crewman that Archer let Admiral Forrest choose. Archer suspected that the policy had something to do with morale, a little to do with allowing officers to practice their religion, a lot to do with saying a prayer for crewmen who lay dying in Sickbay. And now Chaplain Kingswell, who was probably the oldest human aboard Enterprise, was chatting with Kahla. The cross pinned above his Lieutenant pips sparkled in the light, holding Archer’s attention. It was the only thing different on Kingswell’s uniform. Phlox walked up to Archer and he turned his attention away. “He asked if we had a crewman on board who could help him exercise rights of passing,” Phlox explained. “So Trip suggested I ask Chaplain Kingswell to assist him.” “That’s what our Chaplain is here for. You called me down here to tell me you can’t save him, didn’t you?” “No. It took too long for me to understand his physiology. I’m sorry, Captain.” Archer nodded, turning to go. He stopped, feeling a strange warmth sweep over him. He looked at Kahla. The alien was watching him, his brilliant eyes unblinking. Archer quickly left. # Archer drifted out of sleep, staring at the ceiling. “Computer, time,” Archer commanded. “The time is oh-three hundred and twenty-three hours.” What was it that woke him? A sound? Porthos snoring? He held his breath, listening, but there was no sound. Archer closed his eyes, but he couldn’t go back to sleep. His mind began mulling over the last three days of strange events and the dying alien in Sickbay. Where was the ship he said was right behind? Archer rolled onto his side, staring out at space. His companel beeped and he reached up, tapping the talk button. “Go ahead.” “I’m sorry to wake you, Captain,” Phlox started. Archer closed his eyes. “He’s gone, isn’t he?” “Yes. He passed away at oh four hundred and twenty-two hours.” Archer’s mind slipped away to the strange course of events: the exact time he’d woken up, the way Kahla knew all the right questions to ask Archer for only being a cook. “Captain?” Phlox said. Archer came back to the present. “I’ll be there in a while.” Archer tapped the companel again, but didn’t get up. He felt comfortable and at peace, despite the news. Archer slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep he hadn’t had since his mother had died. # Archer walked up to the door and hesitated. He reached out to touch the controls and then drew back. He turned to leave as the door opened. “Good evening, Captain,” Chaplain Kingswell’s cheerful voice greeted him. Archer froze in mid-step. He turned back with a smile. “Chaplain,” Archer said. “Don’t see you much on this end of the ship.” Archer quickly searched for an excuse for why he had ventured down to F deck. “How has the crew been handling Kahla dying?” “Isn’t that really a question for Phlox?” “With the Sar’fenn’s appearance, I assumed they spoke more to you than Phlox about it.” Kingswell smiled, nodding. “Perceptive as always, Captain. Many are taking it hard. They saw an angel and it was hard for them to watch slip him away.” “Do you think he was an angel?” Kingswell shrugged. “God weaves a tapestry we don’t always see until the very end.” ‘His tapestry never has explained why I had to lose my parents so soon.’ Archer nodded, more to his own thoughts. “Captain, you didn’t come down here to talk to me about Kahla or the Sar’fenn, did you?” Archer looked up at the Chaplain and his silence seemed to be a flag to Kingswell. “Well, if you ever want to talk about it, you know where to find me. Have a good evening, Captain Archer.” Kingswell walked around Archer. Archer stared at the empty space before him, torn again by anger and forgiveness. “Was that alien an angel?” Archer quietly asked. “I have to know.” Kingswell’s footsteps stopped. “What is your definition of an angel, Captain? A being that is the physical depiction of an artist rendition or a writer’s version? Or a being whose presence touches lives? We’ve been through hard times, and I haven’t seen morale this high since Enterprise launched. His words and unconditional love for humans did lead many to worship today. Is that an angel? Helping spread His word and love, renewing hope? What is your definition of an angel, Captain Archer?” Archer turned his head as he closed his eyes. He heard Kingswell come back and sensed him standing beside him. “What did Kahla of the Sar’fenn stir in you, Captain?” Archer opened his eyes. “I miss my parents.” “Would you like to talk about them?” Kingswell asked. It was a kind offer from a kind man, full of sincerity. Archer nodded. Kingswell walked back to the chapel door and tapped the controls. As the two men entered, Archer realized he was preparing to return to a faith he’d abandoned long ago. All because of Kahla of the Sar’fenn, a cook that carried his Monarch’s love for humans, asked all the right questions. Back to Chapter 3

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