The hum of the ship’s engines intermingled with the low murmur of unhurried and easy conversation and quiet cuckles. Steam curled lazily from mugs of tea and coffee, while empty plates were stacked neatly to the side. Being invited into the Captain’s mess was a tradition aboard the Sirona, but a privilege nonetheless.

It was a reminder that they had acted to the best of their ability, even if the outcome wasn’t always desirable.

As usual, the Captain, however, wasn’t actually present. Valdes seemed to avoid people whenever possible. It seemed strange, but no one could deny that her absence allowed the tension of the past hours to dissipate.

“It was… certainly intriguing.”, T’vana nodded and raised an eyebrow, amused at River’s account of what their ‘negotiation’ with Naeric had been like.

“You can say that again.”, sighed Edwardson – who seemed to gain a little more confidence – said, but still blushed as if questioning if he was being too casual.  “I don’t know what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t meeting a God”

“He was not a God.”, T’vana reminded, but tried her best to banish the scolding tone that came so natural to her from her voice.

“Well, I am not so sure,” River argued with a smirk and tilted her chair back slightly. “I cross-references Naeric’s appearance with our database. The only thing it came up with was the depiction of Angels in an ancient Terran faith.”

“That doesn’t prove anything”, shrugged Kamau. “He could have picked that up from someone’s mind, and used it to give himself an imposing appearance.”

“Someone’s mind?”, Edwardson asked. “I doubt any Starfleet Officer would still follow such an old faith.”

“You would be surprised.”, Quirell said, a little absentmindedly. She had been quiet for most of the evening – so quiet in fact, that T’vana had asked her if she was doing alright. Which Quirell had, of course, confirmed. And it wasn’t a lie as such – but she was thoughtful.

“I am more curious about what they are following now. According to the Callisto, not all of them were willing to return.”, River said as she stretched her arms behind her head.

“Some stayed?”, Quirell asked incredulously.

“Yes.”, River nodded. “They liked it there – liked it more than Starfleet.”

Quirell sighed. “Maybe they liked having something to believe in. Something… bigger.”

“But that’s what Starfleet is.”, Edwardson argued.

“I’d have sent several counselors down there to make sure they are sound of mind.”, Zantett, generally didn’t speak terribly much, shrugged.

“That the Cardassian way?” Kamau challenged coolly. It was well known that he did not like Zantett in the slightest, but Zantett didn’t take the bait.

“No. On Cardassia, we deal with mental illness in different ways.”

There was a moment of silence in which the relaxed mood threatened to turn sour, and eventually, T’vana decided to redirect the conversation.

“They were given a choice. We need to accept what they choose, even if we may see them as misguided”

“But what… what if Naeric was lying?”, River said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

“What do you mean?” Quirell asked.

“Well.”, the woman turned to her. “He said he lifted the telepathic influence, right? But what if he did not. Or at least not completely.”

“That is true. He could still have guided events.”, T’vana nodded.

“I don’t think so.”, Quirell said, a little more firmly than she had meant to.

“There is something else?”, Zantett said.

Kamau looked at him. “That being?”

“What will happen if these people too start returning to science and technology? They have all the knowledge at their fingertips – even if we ignore what it could do to Asada’s native population, there is still the question of what happens if they outgrow Naeric.”

“I doubt that will happen,”  River replied. “Not when they’ve specifically chosen this. They must know it’s not something they can just change their mind on”

“Maybe not now. But a few generations down the line…”, Zantett didn’t finish his sentence.

“But does a society necessarily have to progress? Or is it possible for them to remain where they are?” Edwardson asked.

“I think progress is natural. We want to learn, and to explore.”

Quirell shook her head, “Besides, progress and faith can coexist. Look at the Bajoran culture, for example.”

“There is something else that worries me…”, River said slowly.

“Out with it.”

“Apparently, some of the people who returned to the Callisto and the Givens still believe in Naeric. What if that … I don’t know, changes its telepathic influence. Maybe it carries it out into the galaxy.”

This time, the silence lasted longer as they contemplated that possibility.

“I don’t have an answer to that.”, Quirell sighed. “But we don’t get to discourage their faith.”

“No, probably not.”, River nodded, but didn’t seem entirely satisfied.

“Well, if this causes any issues, we will experience it first hand.”, said a voice from the door. They had not noticed Valdes entering the room, and immediately, those present sobered immediately.

“We will?” asked Kamau, who had quickly regained his professional demeanour.

“Yes. I have agreed to allow two individuals from the Callisto on board the Sirona. They will be traveling with us as we head for DS17.”

“That’s.. nice”, Kamau said hesitantly.

“Frankly, I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible and not waste time on discussions.”, Valdes shrugged, and took a seat at the table.

“Who are we transporting?”, Zantett, concern already etched in his features, asked.

“A civilian, and the Callisto’s First Officer.”

“Shore leave?”, Quirell grinned.

“No.”, Valdes shook her head. ”She resigned and I will be heading home.”

The others exchanged glances. They had read reports that detailed the First Officer being abandoned on an island, and being isolated there for days.

“It’s not unwise to take some time off.”, T’vana added diplomatically.

“Yes. Either way, Asada will be placed under quarantine protocols.”, Valdes replied, dispassionately as usual.

“Probably for the best”, River agreed.

Quirell rose from her chair. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a report to finish.”

If the others had questions, she didn’t leave them any time to ask. Instead, Quirell headed to her quarters, and once the doors closed behind her, exhaled. Perhaps she should seek out T’vana and let her talk her through what she had witnessed, but… it had been such a deeply personal experience that it felt wrong to share with anyone. She had felt Naeric’s emotions and desires so deeply, so intensely.
Whatever he was – an ‘angel’, a God, or simply someone who was scared of being abandoned – ultimately, it didn’t matter. With all that love and wisdom to give, he didn’t deserve to be left and fade away.

And so, she made a decision – She would remember him.

It was like a soft embrace from a loving parent – warm, unconditional. But was it truly him, or was it the memory of his presence that lingered within her.

“Thank you.”,  a soft voice, inaudible to anyone but her, said. “Thank you for keeping your promise”