The transmission came in at the end of the day in Varanesh, as the sun set on the spire it was seen across all communication bands. There was no music or bells, simply a woman with iron grey hair and workers tattoos stood in front of a plain wall.

“This is Council Chair Reda Vesk of Orran,” she said. “Effectively immediately the worker councils of Orran declare autonomy in industrial and civil matters. We call for a commission to examine the origins of the Spires and the truth of the Communion of Light’s liturgy. We stand by our trade obligations to Tiryn and the right of return for all pilgrims. We will feed our people, we will not kneel.”

Within moments another transmission began, High Luminary Serad appeared, framed by the steps of Varanesh behind her. “The Radiance is a house with many rooms, we will not allow any one to burn the rest. Therefore, for the safety of our people, the Communion of Light decrees a temporary pause in the free trade between Caelari Prime and Orran. Aid will of course be provided if requested.”

In high orbit of Caelari Prime, the USS San Clemente and the IKS Y’tem floated next to one another. Captain Traven watched as the messaged ended and looked out the window in his ready room at the Y’tem wondering whether it was their interference so far that had caused this.

The comm system chimed, “Captain, vessel approaching,” Lt Cdr. T’Lenar reported. Communion frigate Radiant Edict, they’ve signalled that they here to enforce a blockade.

On the bridge of the Y’tem, Captain L’rena leaned forward in her command chair and bared her teeth as she received the same communication from the approaching vessel. “We will begin this with courtesy,” she said out loud to the assembled crew. “Open a channel to Starfleet and the Communion of Light.”

“This is Captain L’rena of the Y’tem, we will not permit starvation” she said, hitting her fist on the arm of her command chair. She had kept her cool, measuring both the Caelarians and Starfleet but would not continue to do so in the face of subjugation.

Captain Traven’s voice followed, a calmer voice. “We propose the creation of a humanitarian corridor, food and medical supplies only.”

Serad’s reply was measured, gone was the pleasantries received previously. The discoveries made around the origins of the Spires had threatened to destabilise the authority of the Communion of Light. “Aid must be inspected on Caelari Prime, as is our law in times of disorder.”

“Your Law,” Envoy Jash from Orran’s voice cut in, “does not reach our stomachs.”

“You may transmit your proposal” Serad replied, ignoring Jash. “Until approved by the Communion of Light, any traffic to or from Orran violates sacred safety decrees. Captain Maor of the Radiant Edict” has their orders.

The proposal was agreed but the Communion of Light held it back for so long that the workers on Orran were already close to running out of food. While a world in its own right, it was one of three which all relied on one another. Initial shipments were held under the close scrutiny of the Radiant Edict and its Captain.  Both the San Clemente and the Y’tem kept a close eye on the passage of traffic while attempting to negotiate between the powers that be. Tensions were high between them and were more difficult with the Communions refusal to openly acknowledge the origin of the Spires.

It was during one of these negotiations when the report of explosions on Orran came in. Blasts shook the planet as refineries exploded. One of the refineries names was Varrak. It was old when Council Chair Reda Vesk’s grandfather worked on it. The blast rolled through the pits fire stretched into the sky.

When the San Clemente arrived in orbit, not even the initial rescue operations had gotten into swing. The engineering crew had already begun preparations to assist.

Lt Cdr. Rynka Korren, the Cardassian engineer, had seen her fair share of disaster relief in her lifetime and was already prepping her team. Lt Brunak, while the chief engineer of the Mente, refused to stay on board and volunteered to assist.

Dr Paldor met them at the transporter with a triage team. “We’ll set up in the shadow of that intact tower,” she said, pointing at the position on her PADD.

While the prepped the Y’tem had already entered the atmosphere and was in the process of landing on the planet. As close to the damaged refinery as possible.

The away teams shimmered into position as they transported down, close to the relief efforts the Klingon crew had begun. The aging B’rel class looking intimidatingly large, its wings towering over buildings close by.

Lt. Sh’rol saw the Y’tem’s first officer Tal’Kor coordinating his small team of Klingons who were in the process of guiding the casualties away from danger. He headed over with his security officers to assist. They simply nodded to each other, nothing further was needed.

Dr. Paldor and the team were already well into setting up a temporary Medical station in some of the undamaged buildings. Performing initial triage on the first to reach them.

The engineers headed straight for the centre of the explosion. “Mask up,” Korren told Brunak and the team, “and don’t breathe the doctrine,” she continued with a smirk.

Inside the main building the heat hit them like a slap in the face. There was a loud bang overhead, Korren flinched on instinct as a line of rivets close by went off. They flew across the hangar sized room shattering control panels around the room.

“There,” Brunak shouted over the nose while stabbing a finger toward one of the few working consoles. “A spike, local. Right before the failsafes come online.”

“You think someone….” Korren , still ducking shouted back.

“I think someone who knows how this thing sings has made it forget its job,” he said in reply.

“Back out,” Korren shouted, “we’re not dying in here and everyone is out.”

As they got back outside a crowd had started to form. They were mostly workers, dirtier than the crowds which had formed on Caelari Prime when they first arrived in the system. These Caelarians looked a lot more annoyed to see them too.

At the centre of the crowd, raised above the others was an older priest. He was cleaner than the rest of the crowd. “This is the price of Heresy!” he called. “You invite outsiders into our house and the Radiance withdraws itself from your homes,”

A bottle left a workers hand and flew straight toward the priest, shattering at his feet. One of the crowed drew a blade and ran toward the priest.

Sh’rol moved fast, the hulking Andorian forcing himself into the way, he knocked the blade out of his hand. “Do not make yourself a story you will have to explain to your grandchildren.”

The crowed got louder, shouting at one another and everyone. Looking for someone to blame.

The crews worked together to ensure the area was made safe, despite the crowd. Most had dissipated by the time nightfall came. Korren and Brunak completed their survey of the damaged caused and send their reports to both Traven and L’rena. They arranged to meet both the Communion of Light and the Council on Orran to present their findings the following day. For now they would continue to support those who needed it at the refinery.

Both sets of senior staff met shortly before the meeting. Both Captains discussing their standpoints. They were called inside by a young Caelarian, one of the younger members of the Council of Orran.

They entered the main room, one where the chimes once sung the songs from Caelari Prime. Now, cloths were draped over them. Traven noted the discomfort from the delegation from the Communion of Light. He heard the words, Heresy and disgraceful whispered amongst them.

Traven was guided to the front of the room. There was a raised area prepared from him to address those in attendance. He began, “We are here because we promised not to let you starve while you argued,” he said. “We are here because we promised not to tell your story for you when we can tell it with you.”

In turn each of the visiting ships senior staff took a moment to display their findings to all. Sora Venn spoke of their dreams, memories not prophecies and commands. Saell and Trang showed the science behind the Spires, the resonance field within the system, the way it dipped and peaked through their times of worship.

Cantor Ilyene, the scholar from Caelari Prime spoke from the old texts. Ones which hadn’t seen sunlight for generations. “Faith that refuses history, fears the truth,” she continued. “Faith that looks at history and chooses how to go forward is stronger than any payer or chant.”

The room felt like a pot that was about to boil over. No middle ground could be found between the factions from the two planets. Then L’rena, who had stayed quiet with her Klingon Officers, finally stood.

“Someone is playing war with your prayers.” She said, silencing the room. “Alongside Starfleet’s engineers we have found this relay embedded into your refineries Hymn-node. The only explanation is someone wanted this to happen.”

Both sides blamed each other. Sora Venn, sat with the Starfleet delegation, felt the anger and frustration from both sides, but did not feel that either side would intentionally do harm to one another. After an afternoon of back and forth there was no middle ground that could be found but a framework for continued aid was agreed.

The next day the corridor of humanitarian aid almost felt ordinary. On both the San Clemente and Y’tem bridge crews watched as sensor pips drifted back and forth from Orran. The Radiant Edict kept to its inspection node, checking each vessel as they transited. Across Oran workers queued for ration kits.

Sora Venn was in the eastern cloister on Caelari Prime with Cantor Ilyene, they were finishing the days dream vigil as the bells seem to change. They didn’t get louder, but it felt tighter and then they suddenly held a note.

Ilyene’s head snapped toward them, “that’s not the sound of maintenance,” she said.

“It isn’t” Sora replied, now able to recognise the usual sounds played across the capital.

Within Orran’s council accommodation, the sound of a private communication woke Jash. The voice on it held a confidence.

“Children of the First Light, hear the true Cadence, The Old Radiance stirs. The Communion of light will dim it, the council on Orran would trade it for bread. We will cleanse the doubt and strike a match.”

Jash was already heading out of his quarter’s door.

As the communication was broadcast a group of robed figures gathered at a painted arch on Orran. The workers would touch the wall as they entered, a blessing for the day ahead. The robed figures poured oil over it and lit it. The flames leapt creating an archway of fire.

Sh’rol and Tal’kor were nearby assisting with the aid distribution when they heard the commotion. Both Andorian and Klingon reached the archway together, they felt the heat on their faces.

Sh’rol began to coordinate the gathering crowd while Tal’kor approached the tallest of the robed figures. “You bring fire to a hungry street!?” he shouted.

The man blinked but did not move. The fire died down as the oil was burnt away.

“Name yourselves!” Sh’rol demanded of the figures.

A small woman at the rear of the group pushed her way to the front, “We are the Children of the First Light,” she said. “We do not kneel to your foreign influence. We will walk to the spire and burn the doubt from under it.”

“you’ll burn yourselves before you burn down any doubt.” Jash snapped, arriving behind the Starfleet and Klingon officers, “get out of my district.”

“Your district knelt the moment it let the outsiders in,” you woman replied. Before anyone could take another step the zealots turned and disappeared amongst the crowd.

At the same time, in the eastern cloister in Varanesh on Caelari Prime, two dozen white robed devotees took their places on the steps. They placed relics side by side and began a chant that Serad recognised but had not heard since a child.

“They are not a sect I recognise,” Serad said softly to Ilyene. Sora was close by too having spent much time with the pair.

“They seem to recognise you” Sora replied. She could feel the attention of the crowd toward Serad. It was almost like they were looking to fill the Spire with their thoughts. Sora snapped her head around to Serad, “They’re with the children,” she said.

Serad stepped forward, ahead of the others. She didn’t raise her voice, she closed her eyes and spoke.

“Children of the First Light,” she said, your fervour is a torch. Useful in darkness but dangerous. Leave the relics here and join me in the hearing hall, let us light words instead of wood.”

Disappointment could easily be felt by Sora within the robed individuals. One of them lifted his relic high into the air. “Bless this light, High Luminary,” he shouted, “or confess that you fear it!”

“Neither,” Serad replied. “I fear only hunger of our people, I bless the breath of all. I confess that any god that needs you to choke your neighbour to prove faith is not a God at all.”

“You twist words” he replied, annoyance in his voice.

“The truth does not bend” Ilyene said, now at Serad’s shoulder. “Leave the relics, come and listen with us.”

They did not come to listen, but they did not burn the steps either. They left their relics where they’d place them and disbursed.

That night, the voice came again over the communication system. This time the crew of the Y’tem was ready and tracked the signal. It was coming from a derelict skiff in high orbit above Tiryn.

“The first light calls,” it said. “Purity rites at every shrine, No Orrani blasphemer is welcome at the Spire. We march.”

Trang sent the coordinates to the helm, Hoban plotted a course and waited for the command. L’rena didn’t wait to discuss this with Starfleet and gave the order. The Y’tem closed on the derelict…. Nothing, no life, no atmosphere. The only thing left was the relay transmitting the communiques.

They pulled the data from the wreckage, not data other than coordinates to shrines. Ten across Caelari prime, three on Orran and a gathering field on Tiryn.

“Get me Traven on the comms, it looks like we know where these…. Children are going to play” L’rena said.