Radioactive (adj).

Causes or exhibits radioactivity.

A state of being extremely sensitive, or even controversial.

What was it about time and space that made things incoherent? One could float endlessly in the vast space of their mind for centuries, if only to arise to a world that was very different from the one they'd left. Such a premise remained true for the first time he'd awoken from his long slumber: the world he once knew, lived and breathed in, and ruled no longer existed.

In its wake, a new era had been born; an era where mankind had reached the vast expanses of the universe through the use of technology. Technology that he'd learned within the span of a few days. Technology that he manipulated to cater to the whims of an ambitious human who desired nothing but destruction. Technology that he soon used to his advantage.

But the main ingredient to his fury had been the illusion that the humans, under the guise of Admiral Marcus, had killed all of his beloved companions. Seventy-two helpless individuals, all stuck in the same cryosleep, massacred.

Gone.

It was enough for him to revolt and go on a barbaric rampage that pitted him against the very organization that had benefitted from his wartime efforts. And even though Marcus's lie had been exposed, he was still separated by the people he called family.

But not this time.

This time, Khan Noonien Singh would have his vengeance.

"Code red, security breach. Code red, security breach."

The mechanical voice of the main computer echoed around him, making his head swirl even more. Being awoken from cryosleep in the span of a few months, give or take, could have a certain toll on a being's body, even that of an Augment. Even as he had stumbled out of the pod that had contained him, his head pounded and disoriented him, eyes red and watery.

{Why.}

That was the first thing that passed through his mind – not who had decided to release him, or when he'd been released. Khan was more concerned with the reason behind such an act; surely the members of Starfleet knew who he was and the threat he posed towards them and in mankind in general. Such a thought didn't linger long on his mind, however, as his attention was immediately pulled to the empty space in the holding unit. It was empty, save for the pod that contained him, and there were 72 vacant spots beside his.

{My companions. They were here?}

Incredulity formed on his face, and he shook his head to clear his vision. Yes. 72 empty spaces; he hadn't made a mistake. His eyes moved to the metal door, and he strode over to it, his steps quick and purposeful. He didn't need to understand what had happened the moment the Vulcan had subdued him: he'd heard the woman say that they needed Augment blood to save the life of Captain Kirk. After taking what they had needed, they had sent him back to cryosleep with his companions, only to take them away once more.

Rage fueled him, and after short-circuiting the control panel, Khan had made a run for it. Now, his steps echoed throughout the hallway, accompanied by the shouts of several Starfleet members who were, no doubt, pursuing him. Having stayed in the headquarters for nearly a year, he knew the twists and turns of the place. From the fourth level, Khan made his way to the third.

By then his mind was clearer, though his limbs felt flaccid. He needed something – or someone – to break. Such a requirement was fulfilled the moment he turned the corner, running into one of the leather-clad guards. Khan wrapped his arms around the man's neck, breaking bone as easily as snapping a twig.

Cricking his neck, he moved forward, towards the back entrance that he knew led into a small alley. From there, he could use the various back streets and find some form of shelter where he could rest, recuperate, and re-strategize.

{I have acted in haste. My desire to know what happened to my family has been my undoing. I will not let it happen again.}

"Code red, security breach. Code red, security breach."

That was the last thing he heard as he reached the back entrance, turning only to deal with several guards who rushed at him, weapons firing. Their blasts hit him full on, but he wasn't even fazed. Granted, the hits were painful, but not permanent enough to cause lasting damage. He managed to wrench a gun from one of the guards, twisting the human's arm with such force that the bone jutted out from the flesh. Khan aimed the gun at the other guards, taking them down in seconds.

He let go of the guard whose arm he'd broken, leaving the human bleeding on the floor and writhing in pain. The wound would heal, but it was most likely that the man would never use that arm again. Pity was something he didn't feel, and certainly not for those of Starfleet.

Khan kept the gun, however, knowing that he would need it soon. While hand-to-hand combat was another thing he was talented at, he wasn't foolish enough to take the enormity of Starfleet unarmed.

The sky was dotted with dark gray rain clouds, matching the Augment's mood. He ran from Starfleet, his feet slapping against the pavement. It wouldn't be long before they would send a search party for him, and he needed to arm himself as best he could. After he had ran for several minutes, Khan stopped. Checking the power level on the gun, he snapped the safety on and considered his options. There weren't a lot of things he could do at the moment, but that was if his little hideout had been compromised.

Admiral Marcus had been extremely generous in giving Khan a comfortable apartment and everything he could ever need. That accommodation would have been given to another Starfleet commander by now, but the Augment was not one who didn't plan ahead. While keeping a front of cooperation towards the man who had revived him the first time, Khan had set up a small hideout close to the outskirts of the city.

It was there where he could carry out his plans for rebellion without interruption. Perhaps it would also serve a new purpose – to help him get back on his feet and start planning a new course of action to get his companions back. He didn't know what happened to the other Augments, but he knew that the information he needed was most likely within Starfleet.

Should he manipulate another Starfleet member to get what he wanted, he would. The question was who.

Khan decided to wait until the time came for him to decide who to manipulate. For now, he had other things to think about. With his destination set, he wound his way through the city, avoiding the main streets and sticking to the alleys and back passageways. Once or twice he slid inside buildings, careful to stick to the shadows and keep his head down.

The section of the city where he'd made his hideout was not one of the more luxurious areas, but neither was it considered repulsive. It catered to the lower middle classes, humans who saw but never told, who focused more on their own little lives than to worry about the mysterious man who slid past their ranks without raising his face from the ground.

Spotting the familiar curb, Khan walked faster. Locks of damp hair covered one side of his face, and he pushed these away.

{So it stands.}

The dilapidated building had once been a travel agency, which boasted of discounted trips to various countries on the planet, as well as several choice intergalactic destinations. It had served its purpose well, and he hoped it would continue to do so. The front doors were chained and bolted, but Khan had a special entrance located at the left side of the building. Within minutes he was standing in the middle of the same room where he'd made most of his strategies, from convincing the naïve Starfleet member to carry out his instructions in exchange for a vial of Augment blood, to creating several weapons for himself.

Everything was still in place: his makeshift explosives, his small arsenal of throwing knives and daggers (weapons of old that he enjoyed using), and, of course, his machine gun. These were all in the metal cabinet at the back of his hideout, along with a number of tightly rolled scrolls that contained maps of the city, of Starfleet headquarters, and even a map of the nearby quadrants. He had burned his notes, which contained different plans of attack. The main details were still committed to memory, and he could write these down once more if needed.

Khan walked over to the couch and sat down, eyes closing. His hands rested on his knees, his posture ram-rod straight. As he rested, he could feel his strength returning. As memories of his time with his companions flowed through his mind, he thought of retrieving them from the clutches of his most hated enemies, as well as giving the humans the same pain he'd felt.

{Soon.}

Starfleet Academy was a building devoted to glass and chrome, mirroring the contemporary designs of most buildings in the city. As the clock struck four, a crowd of chattering humans flowed from the main entrance. Most were wearing the official uniforms of crew members, with the occasional uniformed commanders among them.

Khan could tell that Kirk and his crew were not one of them. He heard that the U.S.S. Enterprise had embarked on a five-year trip across the galaxy, in order to explore new realms, solidify trade connections…

and scatter the 72 pods throughout the different quadrants.

The Augment had to admire Kirk's tenacity, but the fact that it had been used against him did nothing to ingratiate the captain in Khan's eyes. If anything, it only made Khan more determined to kill the man, slowly and painfully.

The search party for him still continued, and he had taken to putting a disguise whenever he went out from his hideout. Now, he was sporting a ghastly outfit that made him look like an unemployed archive records keeper, but it allowed him to continue watching those ignorant Starfleet employees and crew members who exited the building.

While Khan was busy watching the other humans, someone else was watching him. She'd seen him standing at the same bus stop every Thursday, except in different guises. Unlike the rest of the people who had considered themselves her 'friends', she had recognized him on the second day of her sighting.

How often had she stared at his holographic image in the archives?

John Harrison, former Starfleet commander, current leader of the Augments, and the man responsible for the death of Admiral Marcus, had escaped Starfleet and was currently on the loose. She could have pointed him out to her superiors, but had remained silent. She found John Harrison – or Khan Noonien Singh – very fascinating, not to mention attractive. He had those cheekbones that she longed to run her fingers on, eyes that made her feel like he was staring deep into her very soul, and a physique that was characteristic of an effective killer or protector.

There he was again, this time in the guise of a records keeper, complete with thick black frames that nearly swallowed his entire face. One of her companions pointed it out to the rest of the group, causing most to laugh.

But she didn't. She didn't find it amusing – not one bit.

As the group she was with started walking in the opposite direction, she glanced back at him – only to find that he was staring at her. Her heart leapt in her chest and she turned away quickly, hoping that he thought their gazes locking was coincidence. But the way he looked at her was so intense that it took all of her self-control not to turn around.

What wouldn't I give to meet him, she thought wistfully. Perhaps then I could show him that not all humans are alike.

Deep down she knew that meeting the Augment wouldn't end well, and that there was the danger of him killing her within seconds of their encounter.

But Irene Adler was a woman who thrived on danger.