AN: Hello folks! I know it's been a while, but here's a little something for you fans of 'Cast From Paradise'. I know I promised a prequel, but I've been inspired to write something of a sequel instead. For those of you who want to know a little of what Khan went through between the events of 'Cast From Paradise', and what was hinted at in the Epilogue.

Any and all references, allusions, and takings from 'To Reign In Hell' and other Star Trek properties are done with love and in the name of fandom. I own nothing.

Fairest

He was not unaccustomed to loneliness. He had spent an entire year without his crew, adrift among the inferior humans. Much of that year, he had believed himself the last of his race. But Khan had only known the affection and approval shown to him by his mother, from long ago. He had known the companionship of his First and Second in commands, Joaquin Weiss and Suzette Ling. He had not known true friendship. He had not known or felt any camaraderie with others.

He had not known love.

Now, as he labored in near darkness, his fingers gripping chisel and hammer, pounding away at the limestone walls, he knew true loneliness. And he despised it.

Five years ago, Khan Noonien Singh had lost his beloved Empress to the machinations of one of his own. His heart still ached each day when he thought back to the day that his wife had suffered from the debilitating effects of the Ceti Eel on her brain. He still felt the hole left by her loss.

Perhaps the most painful thing about losing her was that she still lived. Mere steps away from him, as he chiseled at the walls of the caves his people called home, Marla lay in suspended cryogenic sleep. Within one of the tubes his race of super-human Augments had once slept, the woman who had captured his heart was being kept on the edge of life.

It was a painful, absolutely agonizing irony. He had been awoken in a time when medicine was so advanced that diseases deemed terminal in his time, in the 1990's, were easily dealt within a matter of months. Very few diseases and disabilities could be could not be cured in the Twenty Second century. Yet, on this barren, primitive planet, they had the barest essentials of bandages and only his people were safe from some diseases due to their superior genetics. Marla, though she had fought the eel's control on her brain, had not the blood to repair it and live.

He had once used his own blood to heal her. He had used his blood to heal a child on Earth years ago, and now he had nothing to resurrect his wife.

And oh, how she was worthy of such a resurrection. He turned his head to glance at the woman, taking his inspiration from his sleeping muse. She was brilliant. Her mind alone was a thing of remarkable beauty. Marla McGivers Singh had been a Historian, and loved all things that dealt with the past. Without her knowledge of the ancient ancestors of humanity and all the civilizations that had passed before, his people would never have been able to form any new life on the planet Ceti Alpha Five. Without her intelligence then, after the devastation that fell upon the planet, he would have been far more worried about leaving his people behind while he and scouting parties sought out sources of food and water. She ruled in his place, and she ruled with a strong and fiery will. Then, of course, there was her outer beauty…

Oh, how he longed for her embrace! Merely looking upon her fair visage was not enough, some nights, when he slept. There were nights when he yearned for her hands, to hold and kiss and run them over his body. He craved her soft lips and their gentle, yet hungry, kisses, and so much more.

He turned his gaze away from his frozen bride and resumed his work. He was determined to adorn the walls of this inner grotto. Marla would surely have loved to see his work. She had expressed such a desire once. He had only been able to give her a knife and a ring carved from bone, but he could well imagine the expression his wife would have made had she seen the emerging figures he had placed in this sanctum. At the moment, he was carefully, from old memory, attempting to give the features of the American Astronauts, alongside Russian Cosmonauts, to the person he was chiseling out. Others adorned the walls, already. Knights, noblemen and women. Pirates and pioneers. Images from Earth's history, to watch over her and stand in an everlasting vigil, until he could find a way to heal and awaken his love.

Also, a means to deceive his enemies.

Khan stopped for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. As he took a step away from the wall, he heard approaching steps. He pivoted on his feet, to look toward the opening, and saw Zuleika Walker standing at the entrance. The woman, a former model and one of the deadliest assassins in his arsenal, peered at him through the dust-filled darkness.

"My Lord," Zuleika said softly as she waited for his leave to enter, "The sun is rising."

Khan was silent a moment. Sunrise. Time to set aside his tools, then. "Thank you, Zuleika. I shall be along shortly." He set the hammer and chisel down, and flexed the fingers on his gloved hand. The digits never regained their sense of touch, and now that he had no reason to, he never removed the glove.

Rather than leaving, as she often did in the past, Zuleika stepped further within the cavern and looked at the walls.

"My Lord, why do you do this?" the Zuleika asked. She looked at the completed figures, then at the tube containing the sleeping Empress. "These walls are… magnificent… But why do you devote so much time to them?"

"I must have a worthy tomb," he told her. "If the turncoat, Harluf, returns, and then I must ensure that he will not attempt to finish what he began. If he believes Marla dead, and entombed, he will not harm her further."

He heard Zuleika sigh, and felt her place a hand upon his arm. For his work, he often removed his layers of protective clothing and let the stone and dust coat his sun-darkened skin. He flicked his pale eyes toward Zuleika, curious as to why she would touch him.

"But, my Lord, isn't it excessive? It's been so long… You rarely sleep, and you hardly eat. I'm afraid for you, my Lord… Everyone is. Even the Prince."

Worried? His son worried for him? Khan wondered why Zuleika would say something like this… He had been attentive to the child born to him by his Empress. He had watched, every day, as Joaquin Ajit Singh, his perfect, Superior son, grew in mind and in form. Prince Joaquin had inherited Khan's bearing and his eyes, as well as the many biological benefits of his race, but… the young Prince's features, from the red-gold of his hair to the shape of his face, they were handed down from Marla. A constant reminder of her gift of love. Joaquin had also gained from his mother a gentler heart… In many ways Khan valued that softer aspect, but he had been clear in teaching his son that the best kings ruled through power and fear.

Khan was taken from his thoughts by Zuleika moving her hand further up his hard, muscled arm.

"My Lord," she continued, "I know that you miss her. I know that you're in pain. I lost my husband, too. I'm alone, my Lord, and there's no shame in wanting to remember what it's like to be cared for." She moved closer to him; her head tilting just to the right. "There is no shame in remembering desire."

He stood still as the Augment woman's face drew closer to his own. Motionless as her lips pressed against his own, and he did not move until he felt her other hand reach for his glove… felt her begin to tug it down.

That hand snapped away from her fingers and he grabbed Zuleika about her neck. Pressed his fingers against her trachea, and heard her choke as breath and speech were taken.

"How dare you?" Khan growled, his voice low and as cold as his gaze. "Your Empress sleeps mere steps away, and you would attempt to seduce me? She called you 'friend', and you watched over her child… Did you show such devotion only to usurp her place?" he asked, lips curling in a sneer.

Zuleika gurgled and attempted, in vain, to shake her head. Khan's stomach churned in disgust.

"You are not worthy. Not to have been her friend, nor to remain near me." His strength and hatred surging through him, Khan threw Zuleika from his side and let his ice-colored irises bore in to the Amazonian-like woman.

"You. Repel. Me," Khan hissed. "Get out of my sight."

"My Lord, forgive me," Zuleika plead. Her eyes watered, her voice tightened. "I-"

"GET. OUT!" his voice echoed throughout the grotto, chasing after Zuleika as she ran.

He took a few paces toward the pod, and knelt down. He placed his fingertips along the clear glass, and took in the features of his bride.

"Forgive me, my love," he said quietly to the sleeping woman. "She will not return. If I must, I shall have her moved to water retrieval and the daily hunts."

Khan was disappointed in Zuleika. The woman had shown such loyalty… But he should have been more careful. He recalled how the Augment woman had once been antagonistic toward Marla. He should have known that those feelings had not fully disappeared.

No matter. She had been dealt with. And her 'loyalty' to him was nothing compared to Marla's. Marla had nearly died for him… She had fought off a parasite to keep him safe. To protect their son. There was no one more worthy of being his Empress, or bedmate, no matter how much he missed the caresses of fairer hands.

Fair… He recalled an old recording that his wife had made in her youth. She had once compared him to the fabled Snow White… It was another irony, really. She had watched him as he slept, admiring his features, while knowing naught but what those who feared and hated him had recorded. Now, he watched her, knowing her as intimately as he knew himself.

"You are fairer than any fabled princess, my love," he whispered before he pressed his lips against the cold glass that separated his kiss from her cheek. "The fairest flower, and most beloved in all creation."

He would return later, when the sun set again. Then, he would resume his greatest work of art, and, even if it took him another five years (or even ten, twenty!) he would ensure that this tomb, though it be a ruse to keep his wife safe, would be perfect.

A tomb fit for the fairest, and most Superior of Women.