Keepers of the Trust

by vandevere

Khan is more important than anyone realizes...

1. Chapter 1

Keepers of the Trust

First Prologue

They call me the Visitor. They call me the Speaker because I speak of the future, what I see of the future. And they believe that I can see the future, and-by acting upon the future-that the future can be changed. They believe all these things about me because they do not know the truth of me. By that I mean my origins…my birth.

But that isn't really important. In this phase of my existence I was more prophet than hero. I have traveled more than one universe. In fact I've sampled millions. Of those millions only a few hundred have what you would call in "your" universe the United Federation of Planets. Most of those Federations have all the names you know…Kirk…Spock…McCoy. And those names were repeated in practically every "Federation" universe I came across, along with such venerable terms as Starfleet, Enterprise, and Lexington.

Of course mere repetition of names doesn't guarantee repetition of events. Apart from the Federation you live in, there is one that calls itself the Imperial Federation of Planets. And there is one other where that Empire apparently fell. But was seemingly replaced by an alliance comprised of the Bajorans, the Cardassians, and the Klingons.

All this explanation is just to let you know that your Federation is not the only one in the multiverse. As far as such things can be qualitatively measured your Federation is a very nice place where things like sentient rights are upheld and even an android may aspire to selfhood. Most of the Federations are like that anyway. So where's the difference?

I can practically hear you asking me about all those different universes, all those Federations. You want to hear a story about one of those different Federations. Not an Imperial derivative, those are far too depressing! And it seems they're all doomed to ultimate defeat anyway. You want something a little better than that. You want something epic…

And I've got something for you. There was this Federation that actually managed to keep step with your Federation for a very long time. In fact, things there didn't visibly change until just after the Enterprise-under the command of James T. Kirk-destroyed the Reliant in the Mutarra Nebula. Actually, the hidden differences that led to the visible changes had been present for a long time. But those hidden factors remained hidden from view. And it's a good thing they did…

But, as I've already said, the Enterprise did battle the Reliant, which in your Federation had been commandeered by Khan Noonian Singh. In your universe, he died when he activated a device known as the Genesis Device, which turned the Reliant into a star with a planet. The Enterprise was almost destroyed too. Warp engines offline, she was trying to flee from the expanding wave that was the Genesis Front. But impulse engines were far too slow. That was when Captain Spock did what he did. He went into the Warp-containment Chamber and fixed the warp engines himself. The warp engines came online in the nick of time, and the Enterprise escaped. By the end of the "Reliant Incident" there were two casualties: A Cadet called Peter Preston who'd died in the initial attack, and Captain Spock who was killed by the radiation in the Warp-containment chamber.

The enterprise crew did indeed mourn for their dead. And some of them expressed gladness that Khan was indeed dead. But they didn't know all the facts. I didn't know the facts themselves until it was necessary to know them (Prescience is a wonderful affliction. You never get advance warning. And when you do, it's always something you can't change)

But I knew certain things. I knew the Enterprise-and her marvelous crew-were on the very edge of the single most momentous event in their lives. And Khan? He wasn't dead. The man who died on the Reliant was a clone…

Prologue II

The Enterprise was limping home. Admiral James T. Kirk stood on the bridge. It was quiet now, the battle with Khan and the Reliant over. Jim glanced to his right, at the station usually occupied by the Science Officer. It was empty, and Jim felt grief tighten inside his chest. Spock was dead, a casualty of that battle.

The others were Starfleet cadets-kids barely old enough to shave-but that hadn't saved them when that first attack came. Several had been injured, others traumatized. But there was only one other death. It was Peter Preston, Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott's nephew. Scotty had taken Peter's death hard. Which was understandable. Peter was just a boy. He was only fifteen, Jim thought and we all got more than we bargained for. This was supposed to be a training cruise! Cadet Preston saved our bare backsides. And Spock…Jim shuddered, remembering Spock as he was dying in that chamber…

With a sigh, Jim forced his thoughts back to here and now. Apart from him, there were only three people on the bridge right now. Pavel Chekov and Lieutenant Saavik sat at the helm, and Nyota Uhura sat at her Communications Station.

It's so quiet here. I bet I'd be able to hear a pin drop.

Jim knew the quiet extended all over the starship. The most severely wounded Cadets had been transferred to the nearest Medical Base, and the few who remained were quietly going about their duties. But most of them were in a state of shock. Starfleet Counselors would have their hands full for a while.

And the business of surviving goes on…

Jim heard the turbo-lift doors slide open. Dr. McCoy walked in followed by Carol Marcus and her son David. My son, Jim thought. The realization was shattering somehow. He'd gained a son, and lost a friend in one day.

No. I won't think of Spock again. Business first.

"How's Scotty, Bones?" He asked McCoy.

McCoy shook his head.

"Just about what you'd expect, Jim."

"Yes. Of course." Well, I have to take care of the living now. Jim turned to the helm "Lieutenant Saavik?"

"Aye sir?" The Vulcan-Romulan turned to face him.

"Keep course speed and heading and alert me when we reach Earth."

"Aye sir" Saavik glanced at the course readouts, then went back to what she was doing. When she spoke she reminded Jim very much of Spock. Which, Jim knew, was understandable. Spock had rescued her, and many others, from a failed Romulan colony. Saavik had been one of several children of mixed Vulcan and Romulan stock, and the child she had been then had been a wild barbarian; more wolf than child. Spock had taken that child to Vulcan, raising her as if she were his own daughter, making the discipline of Surak available to her.

In turn, Saavik looked upon Spock as her father. Not by blood. She could-if she wished-seek out those who'd given her the raw biological fact of life. But she chose not to, preferring to learn how to be a Vulcan from one who'd fought a similar battle in the days of his youth. And there could be no doubt that Spock had taught her well. For here, in the aftermath of a battle which surely had her in deep grief for the father-figure lost, and on the fine edge of exhaustion as well, she was attending to her duties with the stoicism for which the Vulcan people were so well known. Of course, she could do no less. It was the logical thing to do…

Jim heard Dr. McCoy clear his throat. Then the Doctor said:

"Jim, the battle's over. The wounded are resting. So is everybody else. You should too."

"I know, Bones." Jim shrugged, knowing he was stressed and overtired. Damn! Maybe I'm really too old for this. "You think I should go to bed?"

"Yeah, Jim. I think you should. It'll be at least twelve hours before we get back to Earth. A little sleep won't hurt."

"How about you, Bones?" The Doctor looked about as bad as Jim felt. "You're going to be awake taking care of those kids, aren't you?"

"They're all asleep, Jim. The Farragut took off the most serious cases about an hour ago. We can both get some sleep without guilt. Okay?"

Jim smiled.

"Okay" he said.

He knew he was dead. Whatever else his scrambled memories might tell him, this much he knew. So why Spock thought am I thinking?

His last clear memory was of being in the radiation-poisoned warp-core chamber. He remembered Jim; on the other side-the safe side-of the Plexiglas wall. He remembered Jim telling him he had succeeded, that the Enterprise was safe.

Then I died. Or did I?

Spock started to sit up, found he couldn't. I'm obviously in a small enclosed space. Sickbay? No. The sounds of Sickbay were familiar to him, and this didn't sound like Sickbay at all…

Spock relaxed, giving all his attention to his hearing. With ears more sensitive than human ears, he was able to pick up sound beyond normal Human range. But what he heard startled him considerably. Birdsong? In the confines of that thing he was enclosed in-whatever it was-he listened carefully. Yes. It was birdsong. Which made no sense at all…

The radiation he'd taken in the warp-core chamber had been lethal. He'd been certain of it. So had Scotty and McCoy. Spock had even taken precautions against that certainty of death. And McCoy would be furious when he found out…

That's it! Spock thought. The "I" that thinks these thoughts is living out its awareness in a small part of the good Doctor's mind. But why do I hear birdsong? Did I fail somehow in my attempt to send my katra into Dr. McCoy's mind?

"Nope. I don't think so"

The voice, coming from outside the enclosure, jarred Spock into physical, and mental stillness. After a moment of silence, the voice spoke again.

"Would you like to get out of that thing?"

"Most assuredly I would" Spock replied. "Can you hear me?"

"Clear as a bell. Hang on a minute."

Spock heard several clicks. Then something went ping and the part of the box over his head rolled aside letting brilliant sunlight in. Shading his eyes against the glare, Spock saw a humanoid-possibly even Terran-form bending over him with right hand outstretched.

"Need a hand?"

Spock sat up slowly. He felt strange, just a touch lightheaded. But that would pass. He focused his attention on his rescuer. The man was tall, and slender, with long blond hair and beard. And Spock knew who he was. It was impossible, of course. But my being alive is also impossible. Where am I? What is this place?

"It's the Genesis World" the man spoke up in an I'm-just-trying-to-be-helpful tone of voice. "And yes, I'm exactly who you think I am. No. You're not dead. And yes, there's something really big going on. One could even say earth shattering. But it's going to be far…far…bigger than that. And I need your help."

"About what?" Spock didn't know what to make of this. If this person were who/what he thought he/she/it was, his help would be about as useful as…a three-legged horse. Dr. McCoy said that all the time. It certainly fit here.

"What is supposed to happen?" Spock asked the stranger. He seemed surprised.

"Didn't you have any dreams?" he asked. "I could've sworn I gave you a little history lesson in there."

Spock nodded. Yes…now he remembered the dreams. Getting up slowly he stared at his surroundings. The scene was of unsullied, pristine beauty. Looking down, the Vulcan realized he'd been lying in a photon-torpedo casing.

Stop this he chided himself. You are focusing on inconsequential minutiae. If this dream is true the entire universe is in extreme danger. But how can it be true?

"This dream…"Spock began but the stranger cut him off.

"Yes" he said, traces of exasperation beginning to show in his voice. "The man who commandeered the Reliant was a clone. This was done by someone else who had the means to do it. Think about what I'm saying here. Someone kidnapped Khan Noonian Singh right off the planet you left him on. That someone cloned him and set that clone up to do what he did."

"And Khan?" Spock felt a rising sense of, not dread for dread was an emotion, but something very akin to dread. The feeling that all was not well permeated his awareness.

The stranger nodded, then said:

"Khan's alive. He's being kept somewhere, but he's going to escape soon anyway. What I have to do is prepare everyone else for what is to come"

"What is to come?" Spock couldn't escape the feeling that he'd awakened into a fantasy epic of some sort or other. But he remembered that dream now. And if it was true, then Khan Noonian Singh wasn't what anybody thought he was.

Taking a deep breath, Spock said:

"I thank you for helping me, but if this dream of mine is true, I'd be best occupied in warning Starfleet…and my friends."

"You're right, of course," the stranger said. "But consider this. Suppose you witness the death of someone you know. And, a few days later that someone comes to you and tells you the sky is going to fall. What's your first reaction?"

There was a moment's silence. Then Spock said. "I see."

"That's right. Either they wouldn't believe you because you're a ghost, and, as such, not real, or they'd be so bound up in how you're alive that they'd fail to see what they need to see. I didn't bring you back from the dead for them. I brought you back because I need you to help me."

"How?"

"We and our friends are the Keepers of the Trust" The stranger spoke solemnly. "And we have the responsibility of seeing that things go they way they should go. Will you help me with James T. Kirk? He will be involved in this. As will your father, Sarek. I will be responsible for Khan, and Ambassador Wesley."

"Ambassador Wesley." Spock repeated, wondering how this man-if man he truly were-came to be here of all places. The man raised a finger, waggling it as he said:

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. I promise you that only good will come of our association. Will you help me? Will you become a Keeper of the Trust?"

Spock stood in the sunlight, thinking of all the times he and Jim had faced danger. Kirk had always found a safe way out for his crew, although Spock had often wondered how Jim had done it. He could be logical when it was demanded. But his greatest strength seemed to be intuition. Spock had long since lost count of all the times Kirk had saved the Enterprise when logic said nothing could be done. Kirk…made leaps.

Perhaps it is time for me to leap too.

"Yes" Spock's voice was even. "I'll join you in your work."

It all felt so portentous. As if this moment was the preface to the end of the universe…

"Where do we go from here?" Spock asked the other man.

"Wait and see," the other smiled. Then, the two men disappeared, leaving behind the Genesis World and an abandoned photon torpedo casing…

Chapter I

An Awakening

Khan Noonian Singh slowly opened his eyes. He felt strange. So drowsy… He tried to piece together his last memory. He remembered awakening in the Sickbay of the Enterprise, and the Doctor's courage in the face of a possible throat slashing…

Yes. I remember trying to take the Enterprise from her Captain…Kirk…We met with defeat on that day. But he was merciful and gave us a planet of our own to settle and conquer. Ceti Alpha V…

Remembering that, he also recalled the Starfleet Officer who had fallen in love with him. Marla McGivers. She had helped him in his attempt to take over the Enterprise, a court Martial offense…

But Kirk had shown mercy there too; offering her the choice of staying with the man she had loved enough to risk her Starfleet standing for. She had chosen love over duty. And Khan-already humbled by the mercy shown to him by the victorious foe-had learned even more of mercy. There was room for love in this new era he had awakened to…

That this should be was a never-ending surprise to Khan. He and his people had come from a time of almost ceaseless chaos. And scientists, trying in their own way to stem the lawlessness and unending cycle of wars, had designed genetic supermen. Men and women who were stronger, more intelligent, and more charismatic than the general run of humanity. But-as Khan remembered Spock saying-superior abilities very often bred superior ambition. It had all gone to hell so swiftly…

At least Spock admitted that my regime was less corrupt, more caring of the citizens who lived under my control…

Even so, a World War-it hadn't been named a World War, but it was-was the melancholy result.

In the end, only a very few of the genetic supermen survived. Led by Khan, they took a sleeper-ship, the Botany Bay, and fled into space with the-admittedly-very dim hope of finding a place of their own.

So, after suffering defeat at the hands of James T. Kirk, and receiving mercy from those very same hands, we were allowed to take the Botany Bay down to Ceti Alpha V. More, Kirk gave us seed for crops, and some frozen embryos-cows, and sheep-along with food to tide us over…

Khan's head was clearing a little. He sat up. Or tried to… He'd been strapped to a bed. This was a completely unanticipated turn of events…

What had happened?

Ahh yes…we had a visitor just about a week after the Enterprise departed…

He'd beamed down into the small settlement as if he'd been expecting to find them there… A short man with a lean and wiry build, he wore his black hair long, tied at the back of his neck with a piece of thin leather scrip. He'd looked around, as if searching for someone in particular. Then his eyes settled on Khan, and a wide grin transformed his features.

"I take it you're the leader?" He'd asked. And Khan had nodded, saying:

"I am he."

And that was when it happened…

Khan had stepped forward; ready to offer hospitality to this stranger, Marla at his side and Joachim-only a lad in his teens-just a step behind. Then, as Khan walked up, the stranger-still smiling-raised a hand, and blindingly brilliant light engulfed Khan, leaving nothing in its wake save a few jumbled almost-memories: Marla screaming, Joachim's voice raised in anger and terror combined, and a pinprick stabbing in his arm…A hypo? This was followed by a brief sensation of incredible agony…

It was inescapable. They'd been attacked. By whom, or for what purpose, Khan couldn't say…

Where is Marla? Where are my people?

He struggled against the bonds. To his shock, they held. More, he felt his pulse shot up at an alarming rate…

Drugs. They've been drugging me…

Trying to take his mind off the sudden fear he was feeling, he looked around, in the hope of identifying his surroundings.

No luck here…

The bed he was strapped into was the sole piece of furniture in a seemingly door-less cubicle of a stultifying off-white color…

Just then, part of the wall slid open, revealing that some of the wall was a door. Two men, one short, and dark, the other tall, blond, and build like a brick firehouse, walked in. The taller of the pair looked at Khan, said:

"Damn it, Ben! Dr. Janner was specific about hypo schedules!"

"I'm sorry Mark," the shorted man said. "I forgot. Please don't tell the Boss."

"I won't Ben," the other man promised. "We'd better see to this now."

"Excuse me," Khan interjected. "I don't remember how I got here. Or where here is."

Mark answered as he took out a hypo.

"You were brought here around fifteen years ago in a highly psychotic state. Here is the Research Center for Mental Disorders on Juno in the Canopus Sector."

The names of places were so much Greek to Khan. All that registered was that he seemed to be in a psychiatric institute of some sort or other. After a minute, he found his voice.

"My people and I were on a planet; Ceti Alpha V. Do you know what happened to my people?"

"Your people," Mark repeated, shaking his head. "Dr. Janner told me about your case, Mr. Singh. I don't know how you got the notion that you were a leader in the Eugenics Wars. You're not. You're a History Professor from Galen IV. Now-as per Dr. Janner's orders- I'm going to give you a hypo. You'll need some sleep before your next treatment."

"Treatment?" Khan didn't like the way this was turning out.

"Dr. Janner has a special treatment for you." Mark spoke in a matter-of-fact voice. "Apparently none of the other treatments-even the Chair-didn't work for you. So Janner is trying some of his special ideas out on you."

Mark didn't sound as if he totally approved of this. But orders were orders…

"Are the restraints necessary?" Khan asked, hoping against hope. No such luck…

"Doctor's orders" was all the response he got. Then, the hypo was ready. Khan tried to fight. But, with his condition already weakened, and the straps holding him immobile, there wasn't much he could do…

Mark and Ben watched as Khan fell back into sleep. Then, Mark turned to Ben.

"This is the last time I cover your ass. Okay, Ben?"

"Uhh…Yeah…" Ben replied.

The two men left the cubicle, and walked down the bright cheery hall to Dr. Janner's office. Dr. Janner gave both Ben and Mark a case of the willies. The man seemed to be made of ice. A small man of wiry build, he wore his long hair tied back at the neck. Janner looked up as the two men entered.

"So you corrected Ben's mistake yet again?" he inquired of Mark.

"Uhh…" Mark glanced at Ben, who had gone white as a sheet. It was a revelation to Mark.

Janner terrifies Ben.

Well…Janner terrified Mark too…

Janner looked up at Ben and said:

"If you forget Mr. Singh's hypo again, I will be very displeased. Do you understand me?"

"Yes", Ben answered in a very small voice, and Mark felt chills run down his spine. Then, the Doctor was focusing on Mark…

"This must be a new experience for you, working at a Research Hospital."

"It's sort of new sir. But I have experience with psychotics in other Hospitals. I've a fairly good idea of what to expect here."

"Good", Janner's smile became broader. My rules are simple. Mr. Singh is my patient. I have devised a special treatment series for him. I-and I alone-treat him. You and Ben are merely to administer hypos when scheduled, and bring him to my lab. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Mark and Ben were only too quick to acknowledge the doctor's orders. They were both equally quick to leave Janner's office.

"Where was he born?" Mark asked rhetorically. "Transylvania?"

"Pretty close," Ben replied. "He's one strange person."

Chapter II

Homecoming

The two men walked toward the Terran Starfleet Base Main Lobby, just off the Docking-bay. The shorter of the two was Admiral Morrow. The other, wearing the uniform of the Ambassadorial Service, was Robert Wesley-lately Admiral in Starfleet. Wesley still felt odd, out-of-place, in the Ambassadorial Service, the appointment taking him by surprise more than anyone else. Tall and trim, he'd entered a new phase in his career when most men his age were contemplating retirement and fishing…

He and Admiral Morrow were here for the Enterprise. The news had been shattering to hear. A simple Training-cruise turned into a life-or-death struggle for survival. And there had been casualties…

The deaths among the Trainees had hurt most of all. Children thrust into battle when all they'd been led to expect was a trip around this quadrant…

But a legend had died too…

Spock-one of the Enterprise Seven-was dead.

Killed in battle against the Reliant. That such a thing could've happened-a Starfleet ship fired upon by another-seemed utterly impossible.

We don't attack our own, Wesley thought to himself.

"At least Genesis works," Admiral Morrow commented.

"Who cares!" Wesley snapped. "The price was too damned high! Both the Reliant and Enterprise crews practically decimated; of the Genesis Project, only Carol and David Marcus survived. We paid entirely too much for one little success."

"Take it easy, Bob," Morrow held up his hands. "We all feel it. But, in the long run, Genesis will save far more lives than what we lost here. A situation like the one cause by Kodos the Executioner wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen."

"I'm not so sure about that, human nature being what it is," Wesley commented.

As the two men entered the lobby, filled with Starfleet Officers of all ranks and species, someone, Wesley thought it was Captain Janice Rand, said:

"There she is."

There she was indeed, the Enterprise, slipping into the Docking-bay. Morrow and Wesley were still standing. Captain Rand got to her feet too, a look of shock on her features. Wesley's throat caught in his throat as he watched the Enterprise slide by, her graceful hull marred by phaser-fire and photon torpedoes.

James Kirk sat in the Captain's Seat on the Bridge. Sulu, recovered from his injuries in the battle, now sat at the Helm, next to Saavik. Chekov had gone back to his post at the Weapons Console. Not that he had much to do now.

Thank God! Jim thought. We're home now.

Carol and David Marcus were also on the Bridge, along with Dr. McCoy.

"Are you okay Bones?" Jim asked worriedly. McCoy looked awful.

"I'm fine Jim," the doctor replied. "Sickbay's still full. The kids are going to be all right. But…damn it! They're kids! This should never have happened."

"You're not getting any argument from me, Bones."

"Sir," that was Sulu.

"Yes?"

"Enterprise is at full stop, sir."

"Very well. Request Spacedock to activate moorings."

A minute later, Sulu said:

"Moorings activated, Sir."

"Good," Kirk stood up. "Prepare to evacuate our wounded. Let's go."

When Kirk and the others beamed into a small annex off the lobby, Morrow and Wesley were waiting. In spite of his grief and fatigue, Jim mustered a smile.

"Admiral Morrow, Bob, I wasn't quite expecting to see you."

"We heard," Wesley said. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Jim replied. Then, changing the subject, he said:

"What's this I hear about you retiring?"

Wesley sighed.

"I didn't retire," he said. "I got promoted…Sort of."

"Where will you be going?"

Wesley shook his head.

"You probably haven't heard of them yet. They're several different species federated into an empire of sorts. I believe they call their collective Sanctuary Alliance. They only hold one planet in our galaxy. They call it Teros N'Jeyal-apparently after one of their legendary kings. But this is the kicker: They didn't originate in this universe."

"They what?" David Marcus spoke up. "I thought that was impossible."

"Not quite," Jim informed him dryly, then said, "I've been remiss. Bob, Admiral Morrow, I'd like to introduce Drs. Carol and David Marcus. Of course, you know the rest of my officers."

Dr. McCoy, feeling a little better now that he knew it was over, stood off to one side, listening as Wesley spoke to Sulu.

"Congratulations on your promotion," he said.

Sulu flushed with pleasure.

"Thank you, Sir. I'm rather excited about this."

"Rather excited?" Wesley laughed at that. He turned to Jim. "How excited were you when you got the Enterprise?"

Jim glanced at Sulu, smiling. "Perhaps a bit more than rather excited."

He paused, then said:

"If you don't mind, if we're going to talk, let's go into the lobby. I don't feel quite as young as I used to."

"Sure", Wesley led the way to a large table. As they were walking, Dr. McCoy dropped in beside Wesley.

"I don't know how you do it, Admiral," he said.

"Do what?" Wesley asked.

"well…" McCoy paused. "For a man your age, you're in remarkably fit condition. Not that I've seen your files, but…what do you do?"

Wesley chuckled at that.

"Would you believe that's what got me made an Ambassador in the first place?"

"Your physical condition?"

"No. Dr. McCoy, as I indicated, the people of Sanctuary Alliance are all over the place. Ages ago, I met one of them. He was a Shao Priest. His name was J'taal, and-when I first met him-he decided to teach me the Shao style of sword fighting. I believe he said-in the end-that I qualified as a Swords master of the Shao."

"That's all?"

"Believe me, Leonard; if you saw the kind of training a Shao Swords Master has to go through, you wouldn't say is that all." Wesley paused. "Anyway, when the Alliance was ready to open formal negotiations with the Federation, their Ambassador asked for-and I quote-'the Swords Master Admiral'. Once Starfleet figured out he was talking about me, they dumped me out of Command and made me an Ambassador."

He shook his head and added. "I still don't know who to blame."

"Well," McCoy said, " Whatever this training is, it's doing you a world of good. You're keeping it up, I trust?"

"Oh yes," Wesley laughed as they joined the table. Admiral Morrow was talking to Kirk and Scott.

"As I was saying, Jim, we'd planned to have Ambassador Wesley go to Shinar on the Enterprise. Now, though…I really don't know."

Scott spoke up.

"All she needs is a refit, Sir. I've been on ships that came back in worse shape."

"True," Morrow agreed. "But this looks like a major job. It might take a while."

"Take the time," Wesley said as he took a chair. "J'taal always said that things worth doing are worth doing well."

"Are you sure, Bob?" Morrow asked. He glanced out the view-window at the Enterprise. "This could take a while."

Wesley's voice was dry.

"I'm certain they'll understand."

Chapter III

Two Dreams in Counterpoint

Khan Singh awoke out of the drug-induced fog very slowly. At first, he'd forgotten where he was. Then, he remembered. I'm in a psychiatric institute on a planet called Juno in Canopus Sector. Not that I know where Canopus Sector is…Where are Marla and Joachim? Do they even know where I am?

Again, he tried to break free of the restraints. Again, they held fast. He began to feel real despair. How can I free myself and get back to my people? How do I convince the staff here that I am not the psychotic madman they all seem to think I am?

He stopped struggling against the restraints. One of the two men had forgotten to give me a hypo once. Mark was clearly upset by this. If I feign sleep, maybe Ben will be lulled into forgetting once more.

It was an unlikely chance. But that was the only hope Khan had. Relaxing, he closed his eyes. The fog rose up again. But, this time, there was a dream. It was an odd dream, and stranger still for the realization that someone else was sharing this dream with him.

Two men find themselves on the Bridge of a starship. Despite a few cosmetic differences, the Bridge is very similar to the Bridge Khan remembers from Kirk's Enterprise. But, somehow, Khan knows this isn't the Enterprise. He realizes-all of a sudden-that the other man with him is James Kirk; looking a little older since the last time they met. Glancing around, Khan sees that the Bridge is littered with bodies. As Khan moves, a hand grabs his ankle, almost tripping him. Khan looks down to see…a horribly burned and mangled version of himself; the same features he saw every time he looked in a mirror, hideously scarred in battle…

Jim Kirk, asleep at night, found himself in a dream. The setting was-of all things-the Reliant's Bridge. When he saw Khan there, standing near the Command Chair, he froze. Khan seemed to be startled too, glancing at Jim as if to say, what are we doing here? Then, Khan began to move away from the Captain's Seat. As he moved, he staggered, almost falling. Someone had clutched his ankle, and Jim saw who it was. Two of them! My god, what am I here for?

Somehow, he wasn't surprised when Spock appeared in a blaze of light. That's what dreams do…

"Jim!" Spock called. "Take Khan and get out of here! He must be saved!"

Jim didn't bother to question it. He didn't even bother to ask which Khan? He merely aimed the phaser he had-it hadn't been there a minute ago-and fired at the horribly scarred and burned Khan. That one disappeared in a ball of light. The other Khan staggered back a bit, then stared at Jim.

"Let's get out of here," Jim said

"Captain Kirk?"

"There's no time," Jim insisted as he grabbed Khan by the arm. Indeed, a sense of urgency had begun to build up inside him, a sense that something ineffably monstrous was after them both. The Bridge faded away as the two men began to run…

Jim felt certain that they were being chased. He knew-in the way that dreams had-that if he looked back, that would end it. Whatever it was that was chasing them would chop them both up into little bits. Or worse. Jim looked back and saw…

Jim woke up with a start. He was vaguely surprised to find himself alive. He laid there the rest of the night, caught by the inescapable feeling that, somehow, this dream was important…

Khan awakened to the hospital cubicle. There was no change to the scenery. In spite of this, the despair was gone. He knew, now, that he would escape in the end. He felt a little stronger too, a little less drug-fogged. Just a little more time, he thought to himself. If he could only feign unconsciousness for a little bit longer. Even falling into real sleep would be a help if it convinced Ben and Mark that another hypo wasn't necessary.

Hopefully without dreams like the one I just had. That was a real oddity…

Chapter IV

A Walk in Academy Park.

Jim Kirk and Khan Singh weren't the only ones to have strange dreams that night. Robert Wesley also had a rather strange one too. He was back in Starfleet Academy, and young too. Just around the same age as those kids who were on the Enterprise during the Reliant Incident…

It felt odd, being that age again. But, Wesley knew, that feeling of oddness was there because the older Bob Wesley was inhabiting the body of the younger.

Why am I here? He wondered.

"Well, Bob," a man's voice spoke from behind. "You're finally here. What took you so long?"

Wesley froze. Impossible. Utterly impossible…He wanted to turn around, but was too afraid to…

"You're dead," he said. His own voice sounded impossibly young to his ears.

"I'm not dead here."

"Matt…" Wesley turned around then, and found an eighteen-year-old version of Matt Decker grinning at him. They both stared at each other, then burst out laughing. After a moment, Wesley said:

"Tell me, Matt, how old do I look here?"

Decker snickered.

"You look like a kid, Bob. What the hell did you expect?"

"I don't know," Wesley replied. "Certainly not this. Why am I here?"

Decker looked at the grass.

"You were probably thinking of the kids who were on the Enterprise," he said. "And mixing it up with a lot of horse-puckey about Academy Days. What else would cause you to come into a dream looking like you did when you were a kid?"

Wesley stared at him. Abruptly, they were back at their own ages; Decker at the age he was when he had died, Wesley a little older and grayer…

"Come on, Matt," he said. "That's horse-puckey too. Did I die in my sleep or something?"

Matt gave a whoop of laughter.

"No, Bob. You aren't dead yet. Not by a long shot. I just need to talk to you for a bit. Are you ready to listen?"

Wesley nodded.

"Okay," Matt fixed him with his eyes, suddenly all business.

"First, that was a very good thing you did, forcing Admiral Morrow to authorize the refit of a new Enterprise. You and Jim are going to be up to your necks by the time this thing blows over. If it blows over."

"If what blows over?"

"Ask Jim to tell you about Khan Noonian Singh. Tell Jim he's not dead, that he's in danger. You get all that Bob?"

"Yes."

"Good," Decker looked up at the sky. "When you wake up, you'll remember this dream, every bit of it. Now. Wake up."

It was as if someone had given Robert Wesley a terrific kick in the pants. One moment, he was in the dream with Matt Decker. The next moment, he was sitting up in his bed, wide-awake and chilled.

Chapter V

Escape

When Khan opened his eyes-carefully, to be sure-he felt even better than before. Apparently, the trick was working. He had no idea, though, how much time he would have before someone slapped hand to forehead, cried oh my god! And ran for his cubicle, hypo in hand. The time would have to be now. Or not at all…

Quietly, Khan started to breathe slowly, deeply, gathering his strength close to himself. A convulsive movement, and finally…the restraints snapped. Cautiously, he slipped off the bed, and edged over to the door, or the part of the wall that seemed to incorporate the door. One thing stopped him. He realized that the only article of clothing he was wearing was a pair of trousers.

This could be a problem.

He listened at the door for a few moments, his hands touching the medallion hanging on his chest. At least they-whoever they are-didn't take that from me.

He continued to listen. Then, he heard a man's voice say:

"Check in on Mr. Singh, will you? Let me know if he's still asleep."

Khan dashed back to the bed. He had just enough time to get back into the bed, fiddling with the restraints until they looked unbroken. Then he relaxed into the semblance of slumber, his eyes open to mere slits. He heard the door slide open. The next thirty seconds were the longest thirty seconds of Khan's entire life. It was Mark who had entered the cubicle. There he was, standing in the doorway, peering in at Khan, hypo in hand. Then, Mark stepped inside, and the door slid shut behind him. Mark hesitated a moment, then muttered something under his breath as he walked over. Khan waited until Mark was bending over him. Then, he moved…

He seemed to flow out of the bed, immobilizing Mark, and covering the man's mouth so he couldn't even squeak.

"I don't blame you," Khan whispered into Mark's ear. "You really believe I'm what this Dr. Janner says I am. I can't prove anything to you, one way or the other. But I shall say this to ease your mind. I have no intention of killing you. Nor do I wish to keep you as a hostage. I will inject you with the hypo that was meant for me. You will sleep in this bed. I'm sure someone will find you after a time. Hopefully that will be enough time for me."

Mark nodded silently and relinquished the hypo….

After seeing to it that Mark was safely sedated, Khan stripped the other man of his clothes, shoes, and jacket, including a wide-brimmed cap. The clothes fit. After a fashion…Mark was a touch broader across chest and shoulders, and not quite as tall. But that jacket was a heaven-send…quite capable of hiding a multitude of sins…

And that cap would hide Khan's hair-there can't be too many men with long silver hair knocking about in this neck of the woods-which would make his disguise even more effective…

Feeling inside the jacket's pocket, he found a surprise. There was a pair of recognizable sunglasses in there. They weren't the style he was used to from Earth-three hundred years ago-but they fit on the bridge of his nose, and shielded his eyes from glare, just like the sunglasses he was used to…

Putting them on, feeling rather nervous-this is it-he stepped forward. As he moved, the door slid open, revealing a sunny, cheery-looking hall. Not hesitating, he strode down the hall, looking for exit signs. There! He sighted one immediately and headed for it.

"Hey, Mark!"

Khan turned, prepared for anything. A man at the other end of the hall-Ben, Khan thought-called back to him.

"Dr Janner wants to know Mr. Singh's condition."

Khan placed both of his hands together, palm-to-palm, and laid his cheek upon them in the universal symbol for sleep.

"Just great," Ben said. "You off for the day?"

A simple thumb's up was all the affirmative Khan needed to give.

"Great," Ben called back. "Have a nice one."

Khan waved, then headed out the exit. That was close. Too close. Outside, the weather was gloriously sunny, if a bit on the chilly side, ample reason to be grateful for the jacket… But he had other things to worry about. Getting out of the cubicle had been the easy part. Getting out of the hospital grounds would probably be another story entirely…

I'll get out of here, or I'll die trying.

Then, he saw something. A large anti-grav van with the logo MultiTech Medical Equipment along its sides was parked nearby. The Back Bay was open. And-most surprisingly-it was unguarded…

Glancing around to make sure he was unobserved, Khan climbed into the back and hid behind a large empty crate.

Momentarily, the drivers returned, talking about nothing in particular. This relieved Khan considerably. His escape hadn't been noticed yet.

"Okay, Eddie," one said to the other. "What's next on our itinerary?"

"Space Port, Sam," the other man said.

"Space Port it is, Eddie."

The van started up and began to move. Khan was filled with quiet elation. They were taking him where he most wanted to go. He hoped things would continue to run this smoothly. A mistake could be fatal here.

Khan laid his head against the van's wall. It frightened him that he was still so tired. It'll take a while before the drugs clear out of my system entirely. At least the ride was restful…

After an uneventful half hour, the van started to slow. At length, it stopped-or landed-not familiar with antigrav, Khan wasn't sure which. He heard the two men get out, talking as they moved.

"Open the door," Eddie said. "Let's get'er reloaded."

Sam went to the back and opened the door. Then he went back to the front. Khan slid out from behind the empty crate, and quietly slipped out the open door. He stepped around the van, walking right into Sam.

"What the f-" Sam began. He didn't get a chance to finish. Khan's fist struck out, a backhanded blow; pulled so it wouldn't kill. Even so, Sam was thrown right into a nearby wall. Even as Sam fell, Eddie was running around from the other side of the van. He was carrying a firearm of some sort or other.

Even though he didn't particularly like the idea, Khan ran. Eddie took aim and fired, a bolt of light springing out and hitting Khan. He stumbled, but didn't fall. Eddie lowered his weapon, and then went to his companion.

"Hey Sam," he asked. "You okay?"

Sam sat up, rubbing his jaw gingerly.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "But that guy's got fists of titanium. You'd better call that hospital, Eddie. Let them know one of their nuts are loose."

Khan wasn't running any longer. He couldn't. There was a deep, burning pain in his side, and it was getting hard to breathe. At least he was in the ship-lot. Out of all the ships in the port, one caught his attention. As with the van, the mid-sized merchanter's cargo-bay was open, and unguarded. Feeling wobbly, Khan staggered to the hold, then crawled in. Once inside, he crawled a few feet more. Then, he collapsed. He knew there was a distinct possibility that he would die here, apart from his people, and his wife. Forgive me, Marla. I'm sorry. Darkness claimed him…

Back at the hospital, Security learned of a possible escape. They checked up on the patients very thoroughly. When they checked the cubicle supposedly holding Mr. Singh, all hell broke loose…

When Ben answered the summons to Dr. Janner's office, he had no idea it would be the last day of his life. He entered Janner's office. Then he stopped short. Mark was there, clad only in hospital-issue trousers, and sipping a cup of coffee. He had a disgusted look on his face.

"Mark!" Ben said. "I thought you went off-shift."

"Does it look like I did?" Mark snarled. "Mr. Singh escaped. He used a hypo on me."

"Something Mr. Singh wouldn't have been able to do," Dr. Janner put in as he entered the office. "If you, Ben, had only remembered to give him a hypo as scheduled."

"But I did check in on him," Ben protested. "He was asleep."

"It never occurred to you that he might be faking?"

"Aww, Dr. Janner," Ben pleaded. "I swear he was under."

"Your oaths won't help you now, Ben. I told you what the price of incompetence would be."

Ben went white with terror, and Mark wondered why. Then, he saw Janner…

The doctor's eyes, normally black as night, began to glow like cats' eyes in the dark. Janner raised a hand almost casually. Light flew from his fingertips, reaching out to connect itself to Ben's chest. Still standing, Ben's body jerked as if suffering an epileptic seizure, blood streaming out of nose and mouth. When the light disappeared, Ben collapsed, dead.

Mark stared at the body, eyes wide with fright. Will he do that to me too?

At which point, Janner startled him into inner and outer stillness by answering Mark's un-verbalized question.

"No, Mark. I'm not in the habit of killing my underlings. But Ben's incompetence was spectacular, and required a…spectacular…response. Now, Mr. Singh is on the loose. Do you know what that means?"

As long as it doesn't mean you're going to kill me, it can mean anything you want it too.

Janner laughed, again reading his mind.

"No," he said. "All I want is Mr. Singh. If he gets off-planet, he will be lost to me."

"Have you called Space Port Control?"

"Actually, yes. I have." Janner's reply had the tone of one hearing an obvious answer given by an idiot.

Mark kept the rest of his thoughts to himself. Of course, if Janner could read thoughts, keeping silent was an exercise in futility. But he could surely hear the fact that all Mark wanted was to get as far away from Janner as possible, that he understood there was no chance of bring the psychiatrist to justice for Ben's death.

The Comm Unit in Janner's office gave a discreet beep-beep-beep. It was a Research Center Security Officer.

"Mr. Singh was last seen in the general vicinity of the Space Port," the man reported. "He seems to have been injured in a shoot-out"

"He's got a gun?" Janner certainly sounded horrified.

"Apparently not," the guard replied. "He seems to have attacked one of the MediTech drivers, and the other one shot him. We have no idea how badly he was hurt."

"Where did he go?"

The officer shrugged.

"I don't know, Dr. Janner," he said. "We've searched the entire Space Port, with the full cooperation of all ship-owners there at the time. What do you want me to do?"

"Come back," Janner replied. "There's nothing more you can do here."

Janner switched off, staring at the scanner. Then, he said:

"Well… He did it. He got away. What do you think of that?"

Mark glanced at Ben's body.

"Mr. Singh is out of our hands now…"And, perhaps, that's not as bad a thing as I might have imagined. "…But there are other things occupying my mind. What are you going to do about Ben? A dead body could really screw things up for you."

"Don't worry about Ben," Janner admonished him. "I'd rather know about your immediate plans for the future."

My plans?

"Oh…" he suddenly realized…" You're wondering if I would try to inform the law? Well…Just try to imagine what a law officer would say if I came up and told them that I saw a psychiatrist kill a man with light from his hands…I'd end up here-as a patient-in no time at all. But you knew that."

Taking a deep breath, Mark went on:

"The very best I can hope for is just to leave and put the memory of you as far behind me as possible. And I don't even want to get into the possibilities I see about Mr. Singh. I just want to be as far away from you as I possibly can. The opposite side of the galaxy might just be far enough."

"Then leave," Janner smiled. "I won't hurt you, or hinder you in any way. You'll find a spare change of clothes in your size in the Orderlies Room."

"Thanks," Mark left Janner's office as quickly as possible. As he walked down the hall, he collected more than his fair share of admiring looks, from most of the gendered employees, and a few of the patients as well… A bare-chested hospital orderly wasn't something one saw every day. But Mark's physique made this visual experience a memorable one. Even so, he was quite glad to get into the alcove, and away from curious eyes, no matter how appreciative those eyes may have been… He dressed quickly, wanting to get off the grounds as quickly as possible, away from a cold-blooded killer he didn't even have a chance in hell of stopping; or bringing to justice…

"Damn!" he muttered to himself as he pulled the shirt over his head. "Isn't there anything a person could do to stop this guy?"

"If you are willing to risk your life," a man spoke behind him. "Yes. There is a way."

Mark whirled to find an ordinary looking man, blond of hair and beard, standing there.

"Who are you?" he asked the stranger.

"A friend, Mark," the man said. "I came to get you out of here. It's highly likely that Janner won't let you go.

"I didn't think he would," Mark grumbled to himself. "Is there any time for me to pick up my stuff?"

"No," the other man replied. "We go now. Are you ready?"

"No," Mark replied. "But don't let that stop you."

The stranger nodded. Then both men disappeared in a blaze of light…

Chapter VI

On the Nosy

The crew of the Nosy walked back to their ship. The Nosy's Captain, Mel Callahan, was carrying lunch in a bag for one of his crew, his second-in-command, Dan Freed, who had stayed behind to guard the ship. Walking next to Callahan was Joan Garner. Of all the crew, she was perhaps the most essential to the rest of the crew. Being Ship's Doctor, albeit on such a small ship-crewed by no more than eight, or nine-made her the one responsible for the crew's well being. Fortunately, her services as surgeon hadn't been required recently. But that wasn't all that she did. She also had the responsibility of designing wellness regimes for all of the crew, as an ounce of prevention very often was worth a pound of cure.

Right now, she and Callahan were talking about the escape from the Research Center that had made the news that day.

"I wonder where he went," Callahan said. "I know Security scoured the Space Port pretty carefully. I hope Dan didn't give them any trouble."

"I'm sure he didn't," Garner smiled. "Anyway, we're here."

"Good," Callahan said. "Get in, everyone. We're out of here."

Everyone entered the Nosy. Dan Freed was waiting, his thin face tense.

"Research Security do their search?" Callahan asked.

"Yeah, Boss," Freed replied. "Joanie?" he added. "Can I talk to you in Sick bay? It's personal, sorta…"

Garner raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Okay," she said. "I'll drop by at the Bridge after I talk to Dan, Mel."

"By all means," Callahan smiled. Turning to Forrest and Byrne, he said:

"Let's get out of here."

Takeoff was easy this time, which wasn't always the case. Space Port gave the Nosy clearance, and the ship soared up into the sky. As soon as they were out of Juno's gravity well, the Nosy went into warp, and they were gone.

After a few minutes spent in discussion of the Nosy's itinerary- a stop at a mining colony on Harah III to pick up a delivery, to be delivered to Vulcan-Callahan received an intercom from Dr. Garner in Sick Bay.

"Mel? Could you come down to Sick Bay?"

Callahan sighed.

"Joanie, I thought you were going to come down here."

"It's rather urgent, Mel."

"Damn it! It's Freed, isn't it!"

"Uhh…you could say that."

"Okay," Callahan stood up. "I'll be right down."

A few minutes later, he stormed into Sick Bay.

"Now what has Freed done this time…" He stopped and stared at one of the two beds. It was occupied. But not by Freed. Freed and Garner both stood by the bed, Garner bending over the man in the bed. He lay unconscious, stripped to the waist; medical gauze bound around the lower half of his torso.

"Who the hell is that?" Callahan demanded. Garner glanced up at him.

"Talk to Dan," she said.

"Dan?"

"Uhh…Aye, sir?" Freed shifted his feet nervously.

"Who is he?"

"The escapee."

"What?" Callahan roared. "You let an escapee from a nut-hatch into my ship?"

"Gentlemen," Garner straightened. "If you're going to shout, please do it elsewhere. I'm busy here."

"Into my office Freed. Now!" Callahan snapped. He stomped out of Sick Bay, followed by Freed. Garner glanced after them, then turned back to her patient. A handsome man with long silver hair, he remained in deep unconsciousness.

Most of the damage had been patched up, but he had lost a lot of blood. It would be a while before he woke up.

"Okay, Dan" Callahan sat down in his office. "Talk, Freed, and this had better be good."

Freed sat up straight in his chair.

"I know him. From about fifteen years ago."

"A friend of yours?"

"Not really," Freed shook his head. "You remember I used to serve on the Enterprise?"

"They must've been desperate," Callahan interposed. "Or plain out of their heads. So you met him on the Enterprise?"

"Yeah," Freed nodded. "He's a genetic superman."

"Come on, Dan!" Callahan laughed. "Give me a break!"

"I'm not lying, Mel," Freed insisted. "Captain Kirk and Mister Spock both said he was."

"It's nice to know that Star Fleet Captains like tall tales too," Callahan commented. "You hid him from the authorities. Why?"

"Captain Kirk had him and his folks dropped off at Ceti Alpha V. Something must've happened for him to be here."

Callahan shook his head.

"Dan," he said. "Did it ever occur to you that he was here-in that hospital-for a reason?"

"Yeah…But he was supposed to be on Alpha Ceti V. He shouldn't have been here in the first place."

"All right," the Captain said sourly. "When he awakens, I'll talk to him. For now, I'd like everything you can remember about this guy. You do remember his name, don't you?"

"Khan Singh, I think. He was only on the Enterprise for a few days."

"Okay. Tell me more. Start at the beginning."

Freed sighed. This was going to take a while…

Chapter VII

A Pocketful of Dreams

Robert Wesley spent the whole day in a rather abstracted state of mind. He knew it was the dream he'd had the night before, but knowing the cause didn't help one bit. In the early afternoon, having no pressing business to attend to, he went to the gym and worked out with a Shao practice-blade, given to him by J'Taal, for about an hour. But shadow sparring didn't seem to help much. When evening came, still feeling out-of-sorts, Wesley decided to go to the Docking bay Main Lobby. Maybe he would find someone to talk to, something to take his mind off just how truly weird he was feeling.

The Lobby was full, which didn't surprise Wesley. But Kirk was there, sitting at a table with ambassador Sarek. And that did surprise him. The two men were deep in conversation. Sarek looked up as Wesley approached.

"Ah, Ambassador," the Vulcan rose to his feet. "Let me offer my congratulations upon your promotion."

"Thank you, Ambassador Sarek," Wesley stopped at the table. "Am I intruding?"

"No," Sarek replied. "By all means, please join us."

Wesley sat down. He glanced at Jim Kirk. The man looked worried. And, come to think of it, Sarek, too, wore an odd expression. You had to really look to see it. But it was there.

"Maybe I am intruding," Wesley said.

"No, Bob," Kirk replied. "Ambassador Sarek and I just got a surprise today; one involving Dr. McCoy. Right now, Bones is in Sick Bay, getting his mind probed by a Psi-specialist."

"What happened?" Wesley asked. Jim glanced over to Sarek, who took up the tale.

"Normally, this is a private matter," he said. "One we don't discus with non-Vulcans, but-in extremis-we can send our katras-our souls, in your parlance-into the minds of others. I had come to the conclusion that Spock might have done that to the last person he had come into physical contact with."

"That person was Dr. McCoy?"

"Yes, Ambassador Wesley," Sarek nodded. "Earlier today, I met with admiral Kirk and Dr. McCoy. Even though the good doctor has always been uncomfortable with the Mind-Meld process, he did allow me to probe his mind for Spock's Katra. It wasn't there. More to the point, something else was."

Now, Wesley felt a chill. "What is it then?"

"No one's sure, Bob," Kirk spoke up. "It's some sort of neurological and biochemical alteration aimed at altering his sight among other things."

"Among other things? Jim, if this were happening to me, I'd be terrified."

"Bones isn't all that pleased about it either. The alteration also seems to include being able to see through a body much like a medical scanner. It's almost as if these alterations are being made to prepare Bones for a special mission."

A special mission…Wesley felt a shiver go up his spine.

"Ambassador Wesley, are you well?" Sarek's voice held a touch of concern.

"Yes. Thank you, ambassador Sarek." Wesley didn't quite know how to broach this delicate subject. "Have either of you had weird dreams lately?"

Jim's reaction told him he'd scored a direct hit. But what did I hit? Jim looked at him.

"I sure did. Did you?"

Wesley nodded. Then, he turned to Sarek.

"Ambassador?"

"Yes," Sarek replied, much to Wesley's surprise. "The most puzzling part of the dream is that my son was in it."

"Spock?" Jim was tense.

"Yes. Your dream?"

"I saw Spock too. But…" here he gave an incredulous sounding laugh. "I had to save Khan Singh. There was two of him."

"Khan Singh?" Wesley sat up straight in his chair. It can't be. This is crazy…

"Yes, Bob. You saw him too?"

"Not exactly…" Wesley paused, feeling the sudden intense need for a drink. Something strong. Recollecting his train of thought, he said:

"I was visited by…Matt Decker." He noticed Kirk raising an eyebrow at that. "I know, Jim. But it was Decker. And he told me that Khan's alive, in danger, and that we have the responsibility of saving him. Gentlemen, this is strange. Is there any chance it could be true?"

"No," Jim replied. "Khan died on the Reliant."

"Possibly, Admiral," Sarek looked up at the other two men. "But, as the old Terran saying has it 'When a two-hundred-pound canary sings, one tends to pay attention'. Each of us has had dreams pertaining to Khan Singh. Each of our dreams suggests-very strongly-that he might be alive. On top of this, we also have Dr. McCoy, who has had his mind altered by persons-and method-unknown. All of this together does tend to convince me that the 'game is afoot.'"

"Yes," Jim burst out. "But what's the game?"

"Easy, Jim," Wesley laid a hand on Kirk's shoulder. "We'll just have to wait until we get some more information."

Kirk glanced up at Wesley.

"I don't think I could handle that," he said. "The information, I mean, not the wait. I never thought Spock would die in the first place. But the thought of being haunted by him… Why are we getting information this way in the first place?"

"I do not know," Sarek placed his hands on the table in front of him. "Obviously, whatever it turns out to be, this affair is important. As for Khan Singh, assuming that he is alive, where would you look for him?"

Jim shook his head.

"When the Saratoga picked up the Reliant's crew on Ceti Alpha V, they did a thorough recon. Nobody else was there. If he were alive, that's where he would've been."

"There's one thing that bugs me."

"What is it, Bob?"

"You said you saw two of him. Does he have a twin brother?"

"No. Why?"

"It just feels…important, somehow," Wesley shrugged. "Where else would you look for him?"

"Anywhere. It's a big galaxy," Jim paused, then, "He'd probably try to return to Earth. He was born there."

Then, shaking his head, he said:

"What am I saying? Here we are, grown men, trying to plot strategy based on a trio of nightmares. It's insane."

"But our dreams are connected," Sarek reminded him. "And the connection seems to be Khan Singh. I, for one, will be monitoring my dreams very carefully."

Just then, Dr. McCoy walked up, accompanied by a Vulcan woman.

"Dreams," McCoy said sarcastically as he held a chair-ever the courteous Southern gentleman-for the Vulcan woman. "You just can't get away from them."

"You've been having dreams too, Bones?" Jim looked at his old friend with concern.

"No, Jim. But with what's been done to my poor addled brain, dreams would probably be gilding the royal lily. If you want the grisly details, ask Dr. Talar." He nodded to the Vulcan woman.

"Dr. Talar?" Jim was worried, almost frantically so, about his friend's health.

"As incredible as it may seem, Dr. McCoy's health remains unaffected. Some of what has been done to him falls under the category of neurological alteration. There has also been a fair amount of telepathic implantation."

Sarek raised an eyebrow. "For what purpose?" he inquired of the woman.

"I would say that the implantation of data is for the purpose of teaching the doctor how to manage his new-found talents. He has seemingly been endowed with the ability to look at any individual, and see that person in very much the way our medical scanners do. All the additions seem to be packets of information on species we haven't come across yet. Ambassador Wesley might be interested to know that some of these species include Vani, Dinneterans, and Shao. Whoever has done this had done a commendable job. No harm has been done to Dr. McCoy."

Her last words were followed by a loud harrumph! from Dr. McCoy. Jim focused on his friend.

"You're all right, Bones?"

"As Dr. Talar said, Jim, I'm fine," McCoy reassured him. "Now, what's this I hear about the three of you having dreams?"

Chapter VIII

Between Planets

Pain woke him up, an intense burning pain in his side. Opening his eyes, he looked around. A hospital. Did they find me? Am I back in that cubicle? He stirred, and found that, wherever he was, he hadn't been strapped to the bed. Khan slowly sat up, fighting waves of dizziness. Where am I? Moving quietly-he didn't want to make any noise that might alert possible captors to the fact that he was awake-he slowly slipped out of the bed and took one step forward. At that point, the dizziness that had been lurking at the edge of his awareness became a positive case of vertigo, and Khan felt himself falling to the floor. The noise brought someone into the room.

"Khan!" it was a woman's voice. She rushed up to help him into a sitting position as she spoke. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I was trying to get to my feet!" he grated. Then, he froze. She called me Khan. "You know my name?"

"Yes," she replied. "If it's Khan Noonian Singh."

"It is," Khan was amazed. "But how do you know my name?"

The woman talked as she led him back to the hospital bed and got him settled back into a comfortable position.

"One of my co-workers used to serve on the Enterprise. He was there when they found you and your people. How did you end up in that hospital?"

"Don't ask. I've no idea." Khan's hand went to his chest. "My medallion. Where is it?"

"Don't worry, Khan. It's here," she went to an open cabinet and drew the medallion out. "I had to take it off when I was treating you."

The woman held it up, admiring it.

"It's beautiful Khan. Family heirloom? Dan said he remembered you wearing it on the Enterprise."

"Yes," Khan replied. "I've had it for as long as I can remember."

"Here," she slipped it on over his head. "By the way, I'm Ship's Surgeon here. If you don't mind a little medical advice, stay in bed for a bit. You may be a genetic superman. But you almost died back there."

The feeling of relief that Khan felt, that these people knew who he was, was almost indescribable. Still he had to ask…

"Are we going back to Juno?"

"No," the woman was firm. "They had you drugged to the gills. That's why you almost died last night. That's also why I want you to stay in bed. I'm Joan Garner, by the way."

"Thank you, Dr. Garner. I'm deeply grateful to all of you." Khan took a deep breath. "Is the Captain available?"

"Yes," Garner stood. "He would like to talk with you when you're up to it."

"We could talk now, if he wishes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I'll call him."

A few minutes passed, then Mel Callahan walked in.

"Hello," he held out a hand. Khan took it. After all the formalities had been observed, Callahan dragged up a stool.

"Joanie tells me it was pretty close for a while."

"She said something in like vein to me as well."

Well, I'm glad you're out of the woods," Callahan leaned forward. "I need to ask you a few questions for now. Do you remember Dan Freed? He was on the Enterprise when you were found."

Khan laid his head back, remembering…

"A short, thin man with a manic sense of humor?"

Callahan chuckled at that.

"Yep. It seems you do remember him," getting serious, Callahan added, "Dan told me all he knew about you. I don't want our new-found friendship to founder at the start, but some of the things he said made me just a little…nervous."

"You're talking about my attempt to take over the Enterprise," Khan had known the subject would come up. "Suffice it to say that I made a bad mistake there. For what it's worth, before the Enterprise found us, my last memory was of Earth in nineteen-ninety-six: Right at the end of the Eugenics Wars. I was still in a War Mentality at the time."

"So you won't be doing anything like that here?"

"No," Khan spoke earnestly. "All I want to do is to return to Ceti Alpha V and rejoin my people, and my wife."

"It just so happens that Freed remembered all about Ceti alpha V," Callahan stood up. "We're one our way to your planet right now. Don't get excited. The Nosy is much slower than the Enterprise. It'll be a couple of weeks before we get there. So get some rest. If you heal as quickly as Joanie thinks you might, you'll be out of Sick Bay by tomorrow morning."

He walked out, leaving Khan speechless in the wake of this sudden good fortune. He was going home; back to his people…and Marla.

Chapter IX

Ceti Alpha IV

A week passed. As promised, Joan Garner let Khan out of Sick Bay the next day. During that week, Khan helped out with as many duties as he could. Not that there was much to do at this point. Callahan didn't trust him enough to let him near either the engines or the helm. And Khan, too grateful to be actually going home, was diplomatic enough to know when not to press a good thing…

Of course, his intellect, high enough to impress even a Vulcan, helped him read between the lines in matters regarding ship operations. Callahan would've been horrified to know that Khan very likely could have taken over the Nosy, if he had wanted to. But he didn't want to. All he wanted was to rejoin his people. All he wanted was his wife, Marla.

Eventually, the Nosy drew near Ceti Alpha V. Khan, on the Bridge at the time, stared at the view-screen. Only one planet was there…

"What happened to the moon?" he muttered to himself.

"Are you all right, Khan?" Callahan asked.

"Yes," Khan replied. "Are you sure this is Alpha Ceti V?"

Freed glanced up from the Nav-comp.

"Yep," he said. "But I can't find the moon."

"It's gone," Khan stared at the screen intently. "What happened to it? It was huge; very nearly the size of Alpha Ceti V."

"Yeah," Freed recalled. "They called it Alpha Ceti IV."

Switching to scanners, Freed said:

"I am picking up large amounts of debris in the area. It looks like Alpha Ceti IV might've exploded."

Khan's breath caught in his throat.

"My people are down there. I must-"

"Hang on a bit, Khan," Callahan spoke up. "Dan, scan the planet. See if you can pick up any life-readings."

"I'm not sure the scanners will pick anything up," Freed protested. "V's climate is badly screwed up right now. Hang on… I'm reading a large metallic structure down there. It could be the Botany Bay."

Khan stared at the view-screen, at the planet they were orbiting.

"What happened? Mr. Spock said it was safe."

"Mr. Spock?" Callahan asked.

"The Enterprise's First Officer." Freed explained. "He was also Chief Science Officer. He did the tectonics survey on Ceti Alpha V and IV."

Now Freed looked puzzled.

"He couldn't have made a mistake like that. Not Mr. Spock."

"Even Vulcans are entitled to off days, " Callahan commented.

"No, Captain," Freed persisted. "Not Mr. Spock. If he says a planet is safe, then it comes with a warrantee guaranteeing it for at least a million years."

"Comets can do a lot of damage. You know that, Dan."

"Captain," Khan said. "I need to go down there."

Callahan glanced at his Helmsman. Forrest shook his head.

"I can't ground her in all of that. We'd get tossed around like a beach ball. The turbulence is incredible."

"How about beaming down?" Freed suggested.

"Doable," Byrd-the Engineer- said. "I'll see if I can find a relatively clear spot neat the Botany Bay."

"We'll need E-Suits," Freed advised.

"Break them out then," Callahan turned to Freed. "You and Khan, come with me."

A little while later, three men beamed down to Ceti Alpha V's surface. Protected by the E-Suit, Khan couldn't hear or feel the wind screaming around him. He could see what the planet looked like, though, and what he saw was enough, if not too much…

It has become hell, he thought, remembering how beautiful Ceti Alpha had been before, how fruitful and bountiful…

He heard Freed mutter something through his suit radio, then speak louder.

"I've located the Botany Bay," he said. "It's just ahead."

"How far?" Callahan asked.

"Maybe six or seven meters, Boss. It's just a short walk."

"Thank god for small favors," Callahan started to walk forward, Khan and Freed following behind; the smaller man trying to pick up something, anything, alive on his hand-held scanner.

"I'm not reading a thing, Khan," he said. The taller man was caught up in a wave of misery. My people were here when this happened? What chance could they have had for survival?

Sensing rather than feeling, Freed's hand on his shoulder, he glanced at the shorter man.

"Maybe they got rescued," Freed said. "It's not out of the realm of possibility."

"We had no subspace radio," Khan replied. "No means of calling for help. Kirk had no reason to expect we would need help so soon."

"But you've got to think positive," Freed said seriously. "Until you know all the facts. Who knows anyway? Sometimes the impossible does happen. It's a strange universe we live in. Keep hope until there's proof that there's no hope left. Okay?"

Khan nodded. He knew what Freed was trying to say. But it was hard. So hard… They didn't speak for a while. Freed was busy with the scanner, and Khan was occupied with his own dark thoughts. Callahan was up ahead, scouting the territory. Finally, Khan and Freed both heard Callahan's voice over their suit radios.

"I've found the metallic structure," he said. "It's an ancient piece of junk called the Botany Bay."

Khan quickened his pace, not an easy thing to do in this wind. But he had an easier time of it than the other two men. Freed, in particular, had a rough time of it. Small and slender of build, it seemed that the wind was involved in an active conspiracy to knock Freed off his feet. Khan dropped back a few paces and grabbed Freed's upper arm.

"I don't want you getting lost in this," he said.

"Thanks, Khan."

Alpha Ceti V's weather frightened Freed. In spite of what he had said to Khan earlier, he, himself, didn't hold out much hope that anyone could have survived such a major geological event. It had become a hellish place, far too suddenly, for anyone to survive. And that gave him cause to worry about Khan. If they are all dead, what will Khan do? Where will he go?

Presently, they joined Callahan. He was standing in front of an abandoned-looking relic he had never seen before. But Khan and Freed both remembered it.

"The Botany Bay," Khan whispered. Releasing Freed's arm, he walked up to the hatch. "If there are any survivors, they'd be in there," he pushed a few buttons at the side of the hatch, and the door slid open creakily.

The three men waited a minute after the door slid open. Then Khan entered, followed by Callahan and Freed. The door slid shut behind them, and they found they were in an air-recycling chamber. Khan went down the short hall, to another hatchway. There was a door at the end, with another small console next to it. He tapped a few buttons, again, and that door, too, slid open. As they all entered, Khan felt a growing sense of unease. The place felt deserted, its occupants long gone…

Freed operated his scanner.

"No one's here," he reported. "But the air is breathable."

Experimentally, Khan removed his helmet, feeling grateful that Freed had provided him with something as mundane as a rubber band-or an acceptable equivalent-with which to tie his hair back. That helmet had been a sweatbox. Running a hand through sweat-dampened hair, he took a cautious breath. After Khan had taken the plunge, not showing any serious side-affects, the other two men followed suit. After Freed drew in a breath, he grimaced.

"Well, at least it's air," he said. He watched Khan carefully as the man looked around. The place looked long abandoned.

"They're gone," Khan said. "Wherever they went, they're not here. Not even bodies."

Callahan moved up, stopping by a terrarium filled with sand. The sand rippled. He didn't notice.

"Now we start looking for signs," he said. "Khan, there's a pile of books on that shelf over there. Did you keep a Log-book or diary?"

"As a matter of fact, I did."

"Good," Callahan pointed to the row of books. "Find it. Maybe someone took up where you left off. Dan?"

"Yeah?"

Look for anything that might seem out of the ordinary. Both you and Khan know this ship; and what might-not might not-belong here."

As Khan and Freed searched, Callahan looked around at the floor. Seeing a glint of metal under the table holding the terrarium, he got down upon his knees, and reached under, picking the thing up. It was a Starfleet medal; much like those worn by Starfleet officers.

"Dan?" he called. Come over here for a bit."

Freed came over, and Callahan handed the medal over to him.

"Enterprise?"

"Nope," Freed replied. "This is a newer piece. The style's a lot different nowadays."

"Then Starfleet was here."

Freed felt a profound sense of relief. Before he could speak, Khan came up, holding a stack of books-classics mostly-in his hands.

"My journal is gone."

"Don't worry," Freed got to his feet. "It looks like they were rescued by Starfleet after all. They probably took your journal with them."

Khan relaxed at that. He glanced down at the books he was holding: Shakespeare, a King James Bible, Moby Dick, and A tale of Two Cities…

"What do I do with these?" he wondered aloud. "I can't just leave them here."

"Take'em with you," Callahan said as he backed out from under the table. As he moved, he banged his head on the table. It was much tipsier than it looked, and the table-sand-filled terrarium, and all-fell over, the terrarium shattering into a million small pieces on impact. Everything fell on top of Callahan. Khan and Freed moved up to help him.

"Shit!" Callahan snarled from under the mess that had once been a table. "I'm fine. Just give me a minute."

He began to back out once again. Then, he stopped.

"Mel?" Freed spoke; feeling suddenly quite nervous.

Suddenly, Callahan began to scream.

"Oh my god! It's in my ear! Get it out! Get it out!"

Freed and Khan, dropping the books he'd been holding, began to clear the debris from the screaming man. An insect-like creature with nasty-looking pincers darted out of the mess, and disappeared into the darkness before Freed could think to draw phaser and fire. Khan lifted Callahan off the floor, even as the man still screamed, a hand clamped over his right ear. Blood was trickling from the fingers. Even as Khan was scooping Callahan up in his arms, Freed snatched all of their helmets up, and was Comming the Nosy.

"We have a medical emergency!" he yelled over Callahan's screams. "Beam us up to Sick Bay!"

Freed and Khan were caught by the transport beam. The books were left behind. Along with something far more dangerous…

When they materialized in Sick Bay, Joan Garner was already there, along with Byrne-who also doubled as Doctor's Assistant. Khan laid Callahan, gently, on one of the beds, and Garner immediately set to work.

"Something's inside his skull," she reported. "It went in through his ear. What is it?"

Khan shook his head.

"I've no idea. Can you get it out?"

Garner glanced at the medical readouts, her expression grim.

"No. Not without killing him. It's in too deep."

Khan found he was shivering. "What was that thing?" he whispered.

"I was hoping you'd know," Garner spoke as she gave Callahan a hypo. "You did live there, if only for a short while."

"Apparently, I didn't live there long enough," Khan looked at Callahan. The man's screaming had faded to a whimper as he had fallen into a state of semi-consciousness. Khan continued:

"I don't think I've ever seen a creature like that. What is it that's in his head?"

"Some sort of larva," Garner said as she opened Callahan's shirt, baring his chest. "It seems to have an affinity for brain-tissue. What happened to the parent?"

"It got away," Khan could hear the shaking in his voice. "It fled into the darkness before Freed could kill it."

"Where's Freed?"

"I think he went to the Bridge."

"You'd better go there too, Khan. There isn't anything you can do for Mel. Byrne?"

As Khan left Sick Bay, he could hear Garner and Byrd discussion possible treatments for Callahan. The door slid shut behind him and he walked, quickly, back to the small bridge. When he got there, Freed had taken the Captain's chair, and was giving Forrest orders to warp out for the nearest Star Base. Garner had already informed him that she didn't have the facilities to deal with what had injured the Captain. As Khan watched, the Nosy warped out of orbit, heading back toward civilized space…

Chapter X

The care and Feeding of Starships

Jim Kirk was standing by the window of Space Dock's Main Lobby, watching the initial phase of what was turning out to be more than a mere refit. Admiral Morrow had decided to retire the Enterprise. Then, he had stunned everyone by immediately authorizing the construction of a new Enterprise. More, he had appointed Chief Engineer Scott to be in charge of the job. Kirk could never recall-in all the years of their association-having seen Scotty in a more conflicted state of mind. On the one hand, they were putting his beloved ship out to pasture. But, on the other hand, they were putting him in charge of the birthing of a new Enterprise. That being said, Scotty's appointment meant that the new Enterprise would probably be one hell of a starship.

Jim knew that whatever internal conflict the Engineer suffered was also shared by him. His Enterprise had so many memories; some were happy, others sad, and some were terrifying… The faces of his crew, those dead, and those still among the living, were what had made the Enterprise what she was. And that is the ultimate truth, Jim thought to himself. At bottom, no matter how beautiful, a ship is just a ship. It's the people who serve on her who make all the difference.

Watching the beginnings of the new starship, Jim knew one thing. She won't have Spock. But there may be other people who will fill that gap for her. He smiled, remembering how he had always called his ship a beautiful lady. Would this new Enterprise be a beautiful lady? With Montgomery Scott the proud "Father", Jim had no doubt of that…

Even so, the construction would take a while. He'd been told it could take anywhere from six months to a year. The surprise was that the people of the Sanctuary Alliance had agreed to postpone their formal First Contact until the Enterprise was ready. Of course, that-along with the clout Robert Wesley seemed to have-virtually insured that the Enterprise was first in line for any work to be done. He hoped, when all was said and done, that he'd have command of the new Enterprise. But, being a realist, he didn't hold too much hope for it. Unless Wesley had more tricks up his sleeve…

"So there you are," Dr. McCoy's voice brought him back to reality. "I might've known you'd be here watching the baby grow."

The doctor stood next to Kirk, his blue eyes twinkling.

"I had a long talk with Starfleet Command this morning," he said. Jim studied him.

"What did you talk about?" he asked, even though he already had a pretty good idea…

McCoy grinned. Then he said:

"It was a replay of the discussion we had when they made you an Admiral."

Jim winced.

"How many feathers did you ruffle?" he asked, remembering only too well how that had turned out…

"None," McCoy smiled. "They actually listened to me this time."

"They listened to you then too. As you called them every name in the book."

"What can I say, Jim? They were putting you to the worst possible use. As Spock said, commanding a Starship is your first best destiny. Anything else would have been a waste. Don't you want to know what they said this time?"

"As a matter of fact, Bones…yes. I would."

"When she's out of the oven, Jim, she's yours", McCoy said. "You're the only Admiral to have a starship command of his own."

"Did Bob have anything to do with this?"

"Possibly. But Ambassador Sarek was there too. And he possesses some clout within the Federation, and Starfleet, too."

McCoy paused. "You worrying about the Dream Team?"

"Maybe a little," Jim admitted. "How about you? How's it going in there?"

"In my head?" McCoy's eyes got a distant look as he spoke. "It's coming along, Jim. My Medical Sight is coming along well, and so is the telepathic implantation. But Dr. Talar has taught me some control over it all."

"Meaning what?" Jim was curious.

"Meaning that I can turn this rather strange gift on and off. Meaning I control it, not the other way around. I think I'm actually learning how to use it."

"In what way?" Kirk was curious.

"Well…" McCoy paused to collect his thoughts. "I can look at you, and see you normally. Then, if I need to scan you for any medical reason, I simply do it. It's all a matter of focus. How about the rest of it?"

"The rest of what, Bones?"

"You, Bob Wesley, and Sarek. Have you had any other dreams since then?"

"No," Jim replied. "Maybe it was all a coincidence."

"With all this stuff in my head?" the doctor gave a snort. "Not bloody likely. Well… I've got work to do. See you around Jim."

Kirk shook his head as McCoy walked away. Despite the doctor's premonitions, Kirk was fairly sure that his dream, at least, was the product of stress from the Reliant Incident. As for Ambassadors Wesley and Sarek, their dreams could've been caused by anything.

A New Name

The Nosy hove motionless in space. The crew had assembled in the Bridge to observe Last Rites for their Captain. Mel Callahan had died-finally-after days of unspeakable agony. When he had died, the thing in his head, its foul work done, slid out of his ear in a welter of blood…

Khan was there when it happened. When that thing fell to the floor, wriggling in Callahan's blood, Khan drew a phaser and fired, reducing the creature to atomized particles. Then, Joan Garner had pronounced the Captain dead…

So, here they were, all of the crew, and Khan Noonian Singh, gathered on the Bridge to make their farewells to the late Captain. Freed, serious for once, stood in front of the small group.

"Friends," he said. "We are gathered here to remember our friend, Captain Mel Callahan. He was a good man, one of the best, in fact. But death is part of life. Let's have a few minutes of silence to remember our friend."

They all bowed their heads, offering their prayers to their respective deities. Khan had barely gotten to know Callahan, but the man had shown him every consideration and kindness. That kindness had cost him his life. How do I repay all of this? Khan wondered. He died because of me. Head bowed, he heard Freed clear his throat. As everyone raised his or her heads, Freed spoke to Forrest.

"Now," he said simply. Forrest touched a control, consigning the coffin holding Callahan's body to the nearby sun.

Where do we go from here? Khan wondered, glancing at Freed. Upon Callahan's death, Freed was Captain of the Nosy. Freed glanced back at him.

"Khan," he said. "We need to talk. In the office, please?"

"Certainly," Khan wondered what Freed was planning. That Freed was planning something was fairly obvious. When they got to the office, Khan was surprised to see Joan Garner there as well.

Freed didn't waste time with any preamble.

"We've got to make some plans on your behalf," he said. "I'm certain the people who kidnapped you are still out there, looking for you. It's also fairly obvious that your people were taken to Earth."

Khan nodded.

"When I get to Earth, I'm sure the Federation will help me rejoin my people."

Freed shook his head.

"Khan," he said. "For a man as brilliant as you are, you can be remarkably stupid at times."

He held up a hand as the other man bristled in outrage.

"These other guys are looking for you," he continued. "Remember? You can't just go there and announce your presence. That would tip them off, and that might land you in even worse trouble than you were in before."

"What would you have me do, then? Wait, and do nothing?"

"No," Freed shook his head. "I'm just advising you to make yourself as un-noticeable as possible while you're looking for your people. Keep a low profile and stuff like that. Have you ever thought of using an alias?"

"An alias?" It almost made Khan want to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"What name do you think I should use?" he asked half-mockingly.

Freed grinned as he handed Khan a wallet. There was an identity card inside, displaying his picture and stats. Everything printed on the card was true. Except for his name…

"Martin Santirez?" Khan looked up from the card. "You forged this?"

"Yes, I did," Freed stared back at him. "Your kidnappers are looking for you, I'm certain. But they won't be looking for Martin Santirez. Did you ever stop to think about why this guy kidnapped you? I did; and came up with a bushel-basket full of reasons."

"All right, then," Khan said. "What are those reasons?"

"C'mon, Khan," Freed was getting exasperated. "You're a genetic superman. Just what sort of capital could an ambitious scientist make of you?"

"He was a psychiatrist," Khan corrected him.

"That's what he told you, I'm certain," Joan Garner commented. "When you told me his name, I got interested. You see, Stefan Janner was my cousin, and he disappeared in an accident about sixteen years ago. His body was never found. And he wasn't a psychiatrist. He was a medical scientist."

Khan felt a shiver crawl up his spine.

"You knew him?"

"Quite well actually. We used to play together when we were children. And, I can tell you this, Stefan Janner wouldn't have hurt a fly, let alone another sentient being."

"Do you doubt my word, Dr. Garner?"

"No, Khan" Garner's voice held more than a trace of sadness. "If this is Stefan, then he has been afflicted with a grievous illness of the mind. Or else this is someone else entirely. But there's more to this than his possible identity. He had you for roughly fifteen years, Khan. Surely, you don't think he just kept you in storage all these years. What did he do with you?"

Khan tried to fight off a sudden case of the shivers as he remembered that dim period of time between being kidnapped and waking up in that hospital cubicle. That one moment of blinding agony…

"Are you all right, Khan?" Garner's voice brought him back to himself.

"I think he tortured me," he whispered. "What did he do to me?"

"Making a clone is fairly easy," Garner's voice was full of compassion. "But imprinting the neuro-patterns and personality of the original onto the clone can only be done at the expense of extreme agony for the original."

"He did that to me?"

"It sure looks that way."

Khan looked down at the card, and then slipped it back into the wallet.

"What would Janner, or whatever he really is, want a clone of mine to do?"

Freed shrugged.

"It's anyone's guess," he said. "Right now, our mission is to get you to earth. Once there, you should find a job in or near Starfleet. From there, you might even be able to get into contact with Admiral Kirk, or Captain Spock. I'm sure they'd be able to help you. As for now, the faster we get back to work, the faster we'll get you to your objective. Right?"

Khan nodded. He followed Gardner and Freed out of the office. Garner headed back to Sickbay as Freed and Khan walked to the Bridge.

He watched as Freed gave the orders that would send the Nosy to Earth. By now, Khan held few illusions about himself. The product of a genetic breeding program, endowed with intelligence and strength beyond the human norm, his mind and instincts made him what he had always called himself: A Warrior Prince. He had inherited those patterns of thought as surely as he had inherited his hair-once as black as the wing of a raven-and his eyes, still black as night and eagle-sharp.

Yes, a scientist could do much with a clone of mine…

He pulled the wallet back out, looked at the identicard. Besides the bio-stats, it gave a little "thumbnail" sketch of his "life". Born on Deneb IV forty-five years ago, left at eighteen to join the Merchant Marines. An Engineer with no wife and no known children, the life of Martin Santirez was sufficiently boring that no one would look twice at it. Just the kind of disguise Khan needed…

And it would, hopefully, keep Janner off his back…

Janner…Khan found himself hoping he would meet Janner when his own position was stronger.

I will bring you to justice, he vowed.

…A New Start…

Earth… The Nosy was finally here. Khan couldn't tear his gaze away from the planet of his birth. This was something he had never expected to be able to do, to be able to go home after all these years.

Three hundred years…

Khan heard Freed telling the Helmsman to bring the Nosy down to CIVDock. As Khan watched, CIVDock Control brought the Nosy in…

Freed got to his feet, walked over to Khan.

"Do you remember what I told you?" he asked.

"Yes," Khan replied. Freed had given him a crash-course in Denebian culture and history, things a native would know. He and Dr. Garner had also prepared a travel-bag's worth of clothing for him, mostly articles of genuine Denebian attire, most of which Khan found just a little…gaudy…for his taste.

The Nosy grounded, and everyone exited the ship, going through the process of Customs. Khan was impressed at the quality of the Customs people. They were polite, but they knew their business. Not that he had all that much to declare; just the clothes in his bag, and the clothes on his back…

After Customs, Freed took Khan to a man who was waiting for them, a Starfleet officer. Khan froze, turned back to Freed.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Relax, Martin," Freed said. "This is Lieutenant Michael Epert. He's a friend of mine, and he's here to help you find a job. Okay?"

Khan brought his eyes back to Epert, who held out a hand in greeting.

"Mr. Santirez?" he said. "Dan gave me some of your history."

Which one? Khan wondered. The Lieutenant continued.

"Dan also says you're one hell of an Engineer"

"Ahh…Thank you."

"How do you feel about working for Starfleet?"

"I…It would be an honor." Khan was a bit mystified. "I take it there's a big job?"

"Yes," Epert nodded. "We're doing a re-build of the Enterprise."

"The Enterprise?" now Freed was curious. "What happened to the Enterprise?"

"She was damaged in a battle, Dan. It does happen sometimes. This time, the damage was too severe for a re-fit, so Command authorized the commissioning of a new Enterprise."

"It must've been bad," Freed mused. "Well, Martin, ready for an interview?"

"Yes," Khan replied. "Where do I go?"

"Take your time, Mr. Santirez," Epert laughed. "The world won't fall apart if you take the time to say goodbye to your ship-mates."

The Lieutenant walked away, leaving Khan alone with the Nosy's crew.

"Dan," Khan turned to Freed. "I don't know what to say."

"Never mind, Freed extended a hand, Khan took it. "Good luck, Martin. Be well."

After Freed left, Joan Garner hugged him.

"You take care of yourself," she said. "Try to stay low. I know it isn't your nature, but please try."

"I will," Khan hugged her back, then watched as she walked away. Then he brought his attention to Forrest. The young man grinned back holding out a hand.

"Everyone's been giving me all this advice to take care of myself," Khan said to Forrest. "You make sure they'll take their own advice, won't you?"

"Of course," Forrest turned to leave. "Good luck."

Khan was alone now. Epert stood at the other end of the long hall. Khan walked over to him.

"What do I do now?" he asked the Lieutenant.

"I introduce you to Admiral Morrow," Epert replied. "And he decides. C'mon, I'll get us both a cup of coffee; the real stuff too."

The Lieutenant walked down the hall, Khan, feeling profoundly uneasy, following in the Lieutenant's wake. Will this help me find my people? Where are they? Who rescued them from Ceti Alpha V?

Old Friends Made Anew

About five months had passed since Starfleet Command had issued its remarkable decision to commission a new Enterprise. Admiral Kirk, watching from the lobby, was pleased to see she was coming along nicely, looking as graceful as her older sister, the first Enterprise. Captain Sulu was standing next to him. He had been given his first Starship Command a few months ago, the Excelsior. Excelsior's warp-drive had been an experimental one; something called transwarp. Sadly, the technology hadn't quite panned out, so Excelsior's warp-drive had been changed back. A bit of a disappointment for Sulu, but he would survive…

"I take it you're going to visit the Earth-side plant today?" Sulu asked Kirk

"Yes," Jim replied. "I just can't believe the job they've been doing down there. Admiral Morrow found this engineer, an ex-Merchant Marine, to head up the team. I don't know what his technique is, but he got that team to do a five-month job in three. Scotty wants to meet him too."

"Why isn't he coming with you?"

"He's too busy," Jim chuckled. "You know Scotty. The Enterprise is his baby, and he's got all these final adjustments to do. Would you like to join me?'

"I'd love to," Sulu's eyes twinkled. "But I've got my own baby to look after." He looked out the Lobby-window, at the Excelsior. "Engineer Lowe says she'll be back to normal in a few hours. Then, we'll take her out on trial runs. So, who will be going Planet-side with you?"

"Ambassadors Sarek and Wesley. Oh, have you told Chekov yet?"

"Yes," Sulu was still looking at the Excelsior. "I don't understand why he's so surprised that I want him to be my First Officer. We've always worked very well together."

"I hope he was pleased too."

"Oh yes," Sulu grinned.

Just then, Robert Wesley and Ambassador Sarek entered the Lobby, followed by Dr. McCoy.

"Well, Jim," Wesley smiled. "Are we all ready?"

"Yes," Kirk nodded. "Anyone you know have sleeping problems?"

"No," Wesley shook his head. "That strikes me as being a little odd. If it weren't for Dr. McCoy, I'd think it was all a coincidence. But, why, after all these years, would I have a dream about Matt Decker? It all felt as real to me as me talking to you right now."

"Maybe it was a coincidence, Bob. Is the shuttle ready?"

"Yes, Jim. Let's go."

When the shuttle landed at the plant's landing field, Jim Kirk saw that Admiral Morrow was waiting for them.

"Well, admiral Morrow," Jim said. "I take it the team is ready for us?"

"Yes," Morrow nodded. "The Team Leader, his name is Martin Santirez, was a real find. It's not just that he's a great Engineer. He's also an exceptionally good organizer. He was promoted to Plant Foreman about four months ago."

"From what you tell me," Jim remarked. "You only hired him about five months ago. He must be good."

"He is. It's a pity he never joined Starfleet. We can always use people like him."

"I'll mention that to him when we meet," Jim promised. "For now, let's get the show on the road."

Mr. Santirez, occupied, as he was, with readouts and schematics, didn't notice the visitors. If he hadn't been so busy, his physical location in the plant would've made not noticing impossible. His workstation was three stories up, and completely un-walled, giving him a bird's eye view of everything going on…

Khan had found it an enjoyable experience working at the plant. The work was fascinating, and the people he worked with weren't too prying about his past. One thing frustrated him. He hadn't heard anything about his people, whether they were alive, or dead…

Maybe I will have to go to Kirk…

Khan had no idea how Kirk would react to seeing him here, on Earth. But he was probably the only person Khan could think of who might be able to help.

Or his Science Officer, Mr. Spock…

"He's here!" Lieutenant Michael Epert's voice was full of excitement.

"Who?"

"Admiral Kirk," Epert grinned. "He wants to see you."

Well… providence finds a way…

"Lieutenant," Khan spoke aloud. "Tell everyone to take a break. Maybe half an hour."

"Sure, Mr. Santirez."

Khan took the turbo lift down to ground level. A group of Starfleet officers and two Ambassadors waited for him there. Khan only recognized two of them, Jim Kirk and Dr. McCoy…

Jim Kirk stared at the man as he walked up to the group, feeling a chill rise up his spine. Khan? Could it possibly be him? Martin Santirez certainly looked like Khan…

"Admiral Kirk?" It was Khan. His voice was the same…

In spite of his shock, Jim managed to keep his voice calm and even.

"I'd like to talk to you alone for a few minutes."

"Certainly, Admiral," Khan glanced around. "There's an office over there."

"Good," Jim headed for the office, Khan following him. Now that Kirk was actually here, Khan felt profound misgivings about this meeting. When the office door had slid shut behind the two men, leaving them in privacy, Kirk turned to the other man.

"By all reports," he said. "You're one hell of an Engineer."

"Thank you," Khan paused. "Admiral… I'm not…"

"I know, Khan," Jim replied. "Are you Khan?"

"Yes. But, how did you know?"

Jim laughed, shaking his head.

"Don't ask. You wouldn't believe me. How did you end up here?"

"It's a long story. Admiral, my people…where are they?"

"This isn't the time or the place," Jim went to the door. When it slid open, he stuck his head out.

"Bob, Sarek, Bones? Come in for a moment please."

Khan watched as the three men, two Humans, and a Vulcan, entered the room.

"Gentlemen," Jim said. "May I introduce you to Khan Noonian Singh? Khan? Ambassadors Wesley and Sarek. I'm sure you remember Dr. McCoy."

The three men nodded to Khan. Then, Wesley spoke.

"So, it's not a coincidence after all."

"Apparently not," Jim agreed. "Khan, where are you staying?"

"At the Housing Complex. Why?"

"I want to know where you're staying." Jim replied. "By the way, gentlemen, at this point in time, he is known as Martin Santirez. I'd advise that we forget the name Khan Noonian Singh for now."

"A logical decision," Sarek commented.

"Thank you Sarek," Jim turned back to Khan. "Mr. Santirez, Admiral Morrow was highly impressed by your work. He went so far as to express a regret that you weren't in Starfleet."

"Please convey my regrets, Admiral. I need to find my people. Do you know where they are?"

Jim took a deep breath. Is there any easy way to tell him something like this? No… the best way was the quick way, like ripping off a bandage…

"Khan…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Your people… they're dead."

"What?" Khan went pale at this. "How? Was it Ceti Alpha V?"

Jim pushed on, hating this particular task…

"We think a clone of yours led your people for a while. He had them take over the Reliant, a Starfleet vessel. The Reliant attacked the Enterprise. The Reliant was destroyed, with all hands aboard her. I'm sorry."

Khan was silent for a moment, assimilating this. Then, he spoke.

"I know that one clone, at least, was made. But I have difficulty believing that Marla would countenance an attack on the ship of a man she used to serve under. Even if she thought the order came from me."

Jim looked at Khan, compassion filling him. This wasn't going to be easy.

"She wasn't on the Reliant," he said as gently as he could. "She died several years before."

Khan looked stunned.

"She's dead?" he whispered. "How?"

Jim shook his head, not wanting to tell him that. He vividly remembered Chekov's account of how he and the Late Captain Terrell had met the clone of Khan Noonian Singh, the clone's account of Marla's death…

Khan strode up until he stood directly in front of Kirk.

"How?" The menace in Khan's voice was palpable. Jim sighed.

"I believe she was killed by something called a Ceti Eel."

"A Ceti Eel…" Khan repeated the words. He seemed dazed by the news. Shaking with rage, he turned and hit the wall with a fist. The wall cracked under the blow.

Khan seemed not to know what he had done. He stared at his hand. The knuckles were bleeding.

"Are you all right?" Jim asked.

"I need to be alone," Khan whispered. He walked out of the office, then he began to run, out of the complex…

"Jim!" McCoy was upset. "Why the hell did you tell him?"

"He had a right to know," Jim didn't feel too good himself.

"You just cut his whole world out from under him!" McCoy shook his head. "Never spring something like that on anyone. He could do anything. Even commit suicide. You'll need to put an APB out on him."

"I know," Kirk went to a wall-intercom. "Security? This is Admiral Kirk. Locate Martin Santirez ASAP. If he's not doing anything dangerous, don't interfere with him. Regardless of what he's doing, tell me where he is."

He switched off, turning to McCoy, Sarek, and Wesley.

"Well," he said. "The Dream Team seems to be on track after all. Any ideas?"

"It would be best to keep him near at hand," Sarek said. "He seems to be important to someone."

"More than that," Wesley commented. "The Impression I got from my source was that the Galaxy's continued existence depended upon Khan. If we were to keep him around, we'd have to put him in Starfleet. On the Enterprise, I guess. With you, Jim."

"Me?" Jim was appalled at first, remembering the time when he had first met Khan, all of those years ago. But it was different this time. Khan was alone now, no place, or people, to call his own. Whatever dreams of command and glory he might have cherished before, surely those dreams were dust now.

Khan will need familiar faces around him. People he can know and trust, and we're the only ones who can fit that bill…

Khan ran, trying to outdistance the fiery grief that assailed him. He ran until his breath felt like fire in his lungs, until he literally could run no more.

Marla McGivers, her gentle eyes, and serene beauty, arose in his mind's eye, choking him with the empty promise of what could have been…

Finally, he staggered, falling to his knees.

"Marla," he whispered between gasps for breath. "Forgive me…"

Alone, away from any prying eyes, he wept, feeling his heart torn asunder within him. Then, when that first violent grief had passed, he lifted his head. Where am I? He was kneeling on the banks of the Bay, the famous Golden Gate Bridge casting its shadow over him. He got to his feet and walked to a nearby tree. Sitting against the bole, he drew his knees up to his chest, resting his aching head on his knees. I should have died with her. She gave me the gift of realizing my own humanity. And now, because of me, she's dead…

"She loved you, Khan."

The voice brought Khan's head up. An ordinary-looking man wearing ordinary-looking clothes stood in front of him, compassion in his eyes.

"Who are you?" Khan asked him. The man shrugged.

"A friend," he said. My friends call me Will."

"You know my name," Khan was just a touch alarmed. Is he a friend of Dr. Janner's?

"I know your name because you have been seen in Prophecy, your coming foretold millennia ago…"

Khan tilted his head as he looked up at the man.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," he said flatly. "I am not a messiah, whatever you may think."

"So you've given up on glory?"

"Glory? Will, my wife, my people are dead. Why would I want glory now? If I had glory, what would I do with it?

He felt Will lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault," Will insisted. "Try to understand that. You have a destiny ahead of you. A duty, if you wish to see it that way."

"There's only one thing I want," Khan grated. "Janner."

"Good enough. You can deal with the rest as it happens. A friend of yours is looking for you. I'll see you when I can."

With that, he was gone. Khan stared at the space Will had occupied just a second ago.

Where did he go?

"Mr. Santirez!" he heard someone calling. It sounded like Admiral Kirk.

"Over here," Khan raised his voice. Finally, the Admiral appeared.

"We had everyone looking for you," he said. "We were all worried about you."

"I'm sorry if I caused any disturbance, Admiral."

"No, Khan," Jim settled himself down next to the other man. "I should apologize to you. I should never have dumped it on you like that."

"What choice did you have?" Khan leaned his head back against the bole of the tree. "I was the one who asked you."

"But, why did this happen?" the Admiral's hand slapped the grass. "When we left you on Ceti Alpha V, everything was fine there."

Khan shook his head.

"I have no idea," he said. "A man appeared about a week after you left us. He stunned me with a weapon of some sort. When I woke up, it was fifteen years later, Ceti Alpha V was desolated by an unknown disaster, all my people were dead, and Marla…"

His voice almost broke then. He felt Jim's hand on his shoulder.

"You returned to Ceti Alpha V" Kirk asked him.

"As soon as I was free," Khan replied. "What happened to it?""

"Ceti Alpha IV exploded. Cause unknown."

Kirk clambered back to his feet, pulling out a communicator.

Khan rose to his feet as well, hearing Jim speak into the communicator.

"This is Admiral Kirk. Two to beam up to Space Dock."

The transporter beam took them…

Making Plans

This was the first time Khan had ever been aboard Space Dock. Had things been different, he might have been given a tour of the place. But Scotty, and Chekov, were there, each man having reason to hate a man calling himself, or looking like, Khan Noonian Singh. Besides, he was too depressed over the recent revelations of the fates of his people, and wife, to actually want a tour. But Kirk didn't exactly want to show him off anyway. Once there, Jim hustled Khan into his own office, sending out calls for Wesley, Sarek, and Dr. McCoy. Within minutes, everyone was assembled. Kirk handed Khan a cup of coffee.

"You said you were drugged?" he said.

"Yes," Khan agreed. "I was led to believe the kidnapper was Dr. Stefan Janner, but someone who knew him said he had disappeared in an accident around sixteen years ago, just about a year, or so, before I ran into him. I was also informed that he-whoever he might be in all reality-might still be looking for me. Hence the Martin Santirez alias."

"That is a possibility," Jim nodded. "Thus, we made a few decisions on your behalf. When Enterprise departs on her mission, you will also be aboard her."

"There must be something wrong with my hearing," Khan stared at Kirk. "Did I hear you say you were going to have me aboard the Enterprise?"

McCoy grinned.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with your hearing, Khan."

Khan sat back assessing the situation.

"You'll want me in Engineering?"

"Ahh…no," Jim shook his head. "Scotty wouldn't be able to handle that. Have you gotten any Helm experience between then and now?"

"A little," Khan admitted. "It was during the few weeks I spent on the Nosy."

"The…Nosy?"

"A merchanter," Khan explained. "I believe you might know her Captain, Dan Freed."

"Dan Freed," Jim smiled. How was he?"

"Fine, Admiral. In fact, it was his fertile imagination, and his Starfleet contacts that got me here. A good man."

"That, he is," Kirk agreed. "Although he never seemed the Starfleet type. I wasn't really all that surprised when he left. Well…to business, then. When Enterprise leaves, in a few days, thanks to you and your fine team, you will be onboard her, holding the rank of Lieutenant. You'll-"

"Wait a minute!" Khan interrupted. "Don't Starfleet Officers go to Starfleet Academy?"

"Normally, they do," Wesley spoke up. "But there can be exceptions, and I pulled a few strings to make it so. Jim?"

Kirk nodded, then continued.

"As I was saying, you'll have the rank of Lieutenant, and you will be attached to Robert Wesley, as his Aide. Whenever possible, however, I'll have you on the Helm."

"Why?" Khan was mystified.

"You need to learn as much as you can about how starships operate," Kirk spoke patiently. "One of these days, you might have to cut and run. One that day, knowing things like the Helm and Weaponry might come in handy."

"But why?" Khan looked intently at Kirk. "Surely you remember what happened when we first met. I tried to take over your ship! Can you have forgotten that?"

"No, Khan. I haven't forgotten. But, it's different, somehow. Isn't it?"

Khan fell silent at that. Kirk's assessment was correct. It was different now.

Even if I could take over Kirk's ship, what would I do with it? Where could I go?

The realization almost brought fresh tears in its wake. Kirk cleared his throat, bringing Khan's attention back to the present.

"Bob will take you back to his apartment. You'll stay there until it's time to go. He also has manuals on the new Enterprise. I know your memory, Khan, and I expect you to learn everything you can. Got it?"

"Yes," Khan looked at them all. "Except for one thing. Why are you doing this? By the way you four are carrying on, one might think the entire universe depended upon me."

"There is a distinct possibility that it does," Sarek said. "We…" he glanced at the others in the room. "Have assumed the responsibility of trying to ascertain why you might be important."

Khan tilted his head to one side.

"A conspiracy?" he looked at Jim. "You?"

"A conspiracy of dreamers," McCoy grumbled under his breath. When Khan turned his head to glare at him, he added:

"I meant that literally. All three of them have had dreams concerning you. Khan, I give you the Dream Team, and one doctor with special stuff in his head."

Khan swung his gaze back to Jim.

"You've had dreams of me?"

"Yes," Kirk replied. Khan shook his head.

It's crazy… it's insane…

But he remembered that dream he'd had, while still on Juno…

"I also had a dream," Khan kept his eyes on Kirk as he spoke. "It was just before I escaped from my captor, and you appeared in it…"

Again, he shook his head.

"What happened?" Kirk asked. He almost wished he hadn't asked. Khan could've been describing Kirk's own dream to him. Word for word, it was the very same dream; even down to Spock appearing in a blaze of light…

"Well…" McCoy said. "Welcome to the Dream Team. We're awfully glad to have you."

Khan felt dazed by this. He fell silent for a bit. Then, he remembered…

"Just before you found me at Golden Gate Bridge, I saw a man. He spoke with me."

"Janner?" Kirk was tense.

Khan shook his head, laughing bitterly.

"If it were he, do you really think I would be here with you now?"

"Obviously not," McCoy spoke up. "What did he say? Did he give a name?"

"He basically told me to keep my chin up. He said his name was Will. Whether that really is his name, I really don't know…"

All of a sudden, Khan felt deathly tired, the shocks of the day beginning to take their toll.

"Ambassador Wesley," Sarek said. "Perhaps you should take Mr. Santirez home now."

"Quite so," Wesley stood up, looking at Khan. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes…certainly," Khan got to his feet, and followed Wesley out of the office. Kirk was left with McCoy and Sarek.

"Well, gentlemen," he said. "Any thoughts?"

"I've got one," McCoy said. "You'd better tell Scotty. He and Khan will meet, no matter how hard you try to keep them away from each other." He shuddered at the thought. "I'd hate to imagine what would happen if they met. Scotty hates Khan."

"Actually, it's the clone he hates," Jim corrected him. Certainly, it had been the clone that was responsible for the death of Scotty's Nephew, young Peter Preston…

"Then tell Scotty what's going on," McCoy was insistent. "Otherwise, there will be a tragic misunderstanding. It probably wouldn't hurt to tell Chekov either."

"Chekov," Kirk repeated the name. "Did I tell you the news, Bones?"

"About what?"

"Hikaru Sulu asked for, and got, Pavel Chekov for his First Officer."

"Well, I'll be…" McCoy was delighted. "They always did work well together."

"That's exactly what Sulu said this morning."

Was that only this morning?

Kirk stood.

"I'm going home for the evening. I promise you, Bones, I'll deal with Scotty tomorrow morning. Let's all get some rest in the meantime."

The Ambassador's Apartment

Khan Singh sat in Robert Wesley's den, sipping tea, reading the tech manuals on the new Enterprise. Data disks lay in two decks on the work desk. Wesley had already shown him where everything was, the guest bedroom, the facilities and such. Now as Khan read the manuals, committing them to storage in one part of his unique memory, as another part of his mind set itself the task of dealing with this strange and upsetting day.

There were more surprises awaiting Khan when he arrived at the Ambassador's apartment.

Robert Wesley was a Swordsmaster of the Shao…

Khan had known that Jim Kirk liked Fencing, although Kirk-while decent at it-hadn't been the reigning Fencing Champion. When Khan had first met the Enterprise crew, that distinction had belonged to Hikaru Sulu, then a young Helmsman…

But when Khan saw the Swordsmaster's Blade in Wesley's apartment, crystal-hilted, of beautiful make, he had known this was no Fencing epee, or saber…

It was long, straight bladed, and double-edged. The style somehow reminiscent of the High Middle Ages, yet there was nothing clumsy in the sword either.

It's someone's idea of a dream sword… Like Anduril, or Excalibur…

"How did you get this?" Khan had spoken softly; almost afraid a louder noise might shatter it.

"It's a long story," Wesley replied. "Suffice it to say that I received some special training by a Shao Priest."

"You must have done well."

Wesley gave him a crooked grin, then went into the kitchen area to make tea. Khan, left to himself, wandered around the Living Room, taking in the scores of holos scattered everywhere. Mostly, they showed two people. A woman with clear gray eyes, and a young man who had her eyes, but Wesley's strong-boned features.

His wife and their son…

"Her name was Ellen," Wesley stood in the kitchen doorway, holding two mugs of what smelled like Spice Tea. He handed one mug to Khan, and took the other to his chair.

Ellen…Khan looked back at the holo. The woman there had kind eyes, gentle eyes. A man could find peace in those eyes…

"Where is she?" he asked.

"Ah…" Wesley looked at the floor. "She, and my son, David, were both killed in a freak accident-Starship explosion-about seventeen years ago."

"Oh…" Khan felt like a fool. "I didn't mean to open old wounds…"

"It's all right, Khan," Wesley brushed Khan's apologies aside. "I've dealt with that. That's what you have to do, you know. Deal with it, don't let it swallow you alive."

"But, how?" Bitterness lay in Khan's voice. "I only knew Marla for a few weeks, at most. But she claimed a special place in my heart all the same."

"And you feel empty now. Right?"

Yes, Khan realized. Empty…

"Khan," there was deep compassion in Wesley's voice. "You have friends you can lean on. Let us help you. I had friends too, and they helped me. Matt Decker, in particular, he stayed by me, kept me on an even keel, more or less. You can survive this, whether you realize it or not. Now, may I ask you to do me a favor?"

"Certainly," Khan took another sip of his tea. He had forgotten how good Spice Tea tasted. "What would you like me to do?"

"You can start calling me by my name. It's Bob. Okay?"

Khan was hesitant.

"I'm not sure that would be right," he said. "I understand I will be serving as your Aide when we leave. It would not be…proper…to use such an informal mode of address."

"I see," Wesley sighed. "Well…until then, at least, can you loosen up a little? I don't need that kind of formality every day."

"I'll try…Bob."

"See?" Wesley smiled. "It's not all that difficult. Are you tired?"

"I was when we came here," Khan replied. "But now, I seem to have caught my second wind."

"Lucky son of a gun," Wesley lifted himself out of his chair, rummaged around in an antique desk. "My second wind never arrived today. Ah…here they are…"

He was holding a stack of data disks.

"As per Jim Kirk's orders," he continued. "These are for you. I'll put them by my workstation. There's plenty of tea, or coffee. Make whatever you like. I'm off to bed. Goodnight, Khan."

"Goodnight…Bob."

Khan heard a chuckle as Wesley disappeared into his bedroom.

"You're finally catching on."

Then, Khan was alone.

Now, several hours later, Khan's second wind began to die out. He'd just finished the last data disk, and his brain felt stuffed with all that new information on the new Enterprise. It would take his mind a while to sort all that data into an acceptable form of information. But Khan had learned, as a child, a reliable way to do this. He would, quite literally, sleep on it…

Come next morning, all the data would be sorted out, and ready to use.

He went to bed, was asleep in minutes…

That night, all three of the Dream team received information from their respective sources. Jim Kirk found himself in his Ready Room, just off the Enterprise's Bridge. Somehow, he knew it was that kind of dream…

"Spock?"

"I'm here, Jim", and there he was, wearing the robes he used for meditation…

"Well, Spock," Jim said. "I did it. I found Khan, and he's going with us on the Enterprise."

"I know," Spock replied. "You will do everything you can to protect him?"

"Of course I will," Jim turned to his old friend. "Spock, we know Khan's important somehow. Do you know why?"

The Vulcan hesitated.

"Premature disclosure would be catastrophic," he said at last. "Not only for our Galaxy, but the entire universe, if not the entire Meta-universe. Try to be patient."

"You won't tell me?"

"I can't tell you, Jim. It would be disastrous to reveal things too quickly."

"So we're walking on eggshells here?"

Spock considered Kirk's choice of words.

"Yes," he said. "That Terranism seems particularly appropriate. And stepping carefully is most important. I must leave now, Jim."

Spock raised his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. Then he disappeared…

Robert Wesley found himself in Academy Park. Again. At least I'm my own age this time…

He looked around. Nobody was visible.

"Matt!" he called. "I'm here. Where are you?"

"Over by the benches" Decker's voice came to him.

Wesley saw him, walked over. They both sat down.

"You've had a busy day," Decker observed.

"Tell me about it," Wesley snorted. "Matt, the guy went through hell."

"Yes, Bob. But you really helped him today. You even told him about Ellen and Dave."

"Yes, well…" Wesley shrugged off-handedly. "It was eating him up inside. You can't live like that…"

"You gave him the tools he needs to survive, and that is something the universe may live to thank you for."

Decker paused, and then spoke again…

"There's something I want you to do for me, Bob. You know that when you meet Sanctuary Alliance, you will need to wear that sword."

"Yes," Wesley wondered just how ridiculous he would look wearing that thing. No matter…they had asked for him because of that sword…

"All right, Matt," Wesley added. "What do you want me to do?"

"Start wearing that sword at all times." Decker was deadly serious. "It'll save lives. Okay?"

"Uh…" Wesley took one look at Decker's face. "Okay, Matt. But, if I get a laugh, I'm taking it out of your hide."

"It's a deal," Decker smiled. "Now, I've got to go. I'll see you when I can. Goodnight, Bob."

Then he was gone.

Back at Embassy headquarters, Sarek was in a Meditation Trance. What it amounted to was-quite literally-a waking dream…

Father?

Yes, my Son, I hear you. What would you have me do?

Stay with Admiral Kirk and Ambassador Wesley. They will need your help before all is done.

How? Spock, I do not know how I can be of any help in this matter.

Father, when Admiral Kirk and Ambassador Wesley both had doubts concerning the veracity of their dreams, you never doubted the truth of it. May I ask why?

The chances of three unrelated people having dreams concerning the same subject… The chances against that are astronomical. And, of course, there is Dr. McCoy, the fact that he has been given such an inexplicable gift, although I am quite sure he would have done without it gladly. But this does not answer my question. How would my assistance be of any value?

Father, James Kirk, and Robert Wesley will need your logic, as will Khan Singh. I shall return when I may. Farwell.

Upon Spock's departure, Sarek came out of the trance and opened his eyes. He wondered what the others had gotten in the way of information. He knew he would only need to wait a few hours. Then, the Dream team would meet, pool their resources together, and come up with an answer, or two…

One Morning

At the Park

Khan awoke to the smell of coffee, and something that smelled very much like eggs and sausage. For a moment, he lay there remembering the events of the day before. His people, and Marla McGivers, all were dead to the last soul. Khan, himself was the subject of an actual conspiracy. Well…not exactly a conspiracy… The Dream Team had no intention of overthrowing anything. Even so, Khan suspected Starfleet Command would not be best pleased if they ever found out what Admiral Kirk, and Ambassadors Wesley and Sarek were up to.

Getting to his feet, Khan belted a bathrobe around himself, and then approached the bedroom door, which slid open as he neared it. Robert Wesley, fully dressed, was striding up to the door.

"I was about to knock," he said, handing over a package of clothing. "As of now, you're a Starfleet Officer, and this is your uniform. Admiral Morrow will arrive in about an hour to pick us up. That leaves just enough time for you to shave, shower, and get some breakfast. Not necessarily in that order."

Admiral Morrow arrived just as the two men were finishing their coffee. Wesley let him in, formally introducing him to their newest Starfleet Lieutenant. Morrow shook Khan's hand vigorously.

"Lieutenant Santirez, I am glad you let Admiral Kirk twist your arm into joining Starfleet. We always need good people like you."

"Admiral Kirk said the same thing to me, Admiral Morrow. I am honored that such people as you think me qualified."

In reality, Khan was beginning to feel a bit embarrassed by Morrow's zeal. Morrow, however, had a question for him…

"Why didn't you join before?"

"I…ah…" think fast Khan! "It never occurred to me that I could join Starfleet. I truly believed I had gone as far as I could."

"Fair enough," Morrow smiled. "At least you know the truth now."

Yes, Khan thought. It's just not the truth you think it is…

He noticed Morrow was staring at Wesley. The Ambassador was busy belting a scabbard over his clothes.

"What are you doing, Bob?"

"I'm putting my sword on" Wesley replied. "What does it look like?"

The scabbard looked rather complicated, the belt crossing his waist and chest, the scabbard, itself, lying across his back. Getting the Shao Swordsmaster's Blade, Wesley slid it home into the scabbard. Morrow stared at the Ambassador as if he had lost his wits.

"Why?" he asked.

Wesley smiled.

"You made me an Ambassador to the Sanctuary Alliance because of this sword," he patted the crystal hilt poking over his left shoulder. "Remember?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with-"

"I've got to get used to wearing this all the time. Lord knows I'm going to feel pretty ridiculous traipsing around with this on my back. But that-when all is said and done, is precisely why I got the job. So I might as well go all out with it."

"Forget about feeling ridiculous," Morrow was chuckling. "You look ridiculous too. So, I guess we're going to beam over? Don't want your neighbors seeing you like this…"

"Very funny" Wesley bantered back. "But my neighbors already know about this sword. They've seen me with it before, and the weather is beautiful right now. Wouldn't you agree, Khan?"

Oh, yes… The weather was beautiful this morning. Khan could hear the sounds of children playing outside in the communal park.

"Yes," Khan replied. "The weather is beautiful. But won't some of the neighbors, at least, think you're a bit odd for wearing a sword?"

"No," Wesley shook his head. "They know who I am. The worst they might think is that I'm on my way to a costume party. Besides, my ego is strong enough that I can take the occasional odd stare. Let's walk today."

The communal park was the prettiest park Khan had seen for a long time. The children-some of obviously nonterran ancestry- were playing games that were old when Khan was their age. Tag, Hopscotch… Those games had yet to go out of style…

The children were watched over by parents, grandparents, and any variety of family-Guardian that could be imagined, the elders sitting on warm benches, discussing trivial bits of interest among themselves.

All in all, it was a most pleasant experience for Khan to witness.

Then, he saw the one man sitting alone, apart from the others. The sight of that man turned Khan's blood to ice. It was Janner, the man who had kidnapped him from Ceti alpha V…

""What's wrong?" Wesley had noticed the sudden stillness in Khan.

"That man, sitting alone…" Khan didn't dare to point at him. "That's Dr. Janner, the man who kidnapped me."

"Okay," Wesley turned to Morrow. "We'd better beam up right now."

Morrow didn't understand.

"In this lovely weather?"

The man had gotten to his feet, was striding over to them.

"Excuse me," he spoke politely. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."

"Some thing?" Khan stiffened with rage. Wesley's hand on his shoulder seemed to pull him back from a killing rage.

"If we do have something that belongs to you, Dr. Janner, I advise you to use official channels. Perhaps a form of recompense can be made available to you."

The man seemed startled at Wesley's use of his name, but recovered his composure very quickly.

"No matter," he said. "You won't give him up. Therefore I shall take what is mine."

"Are you talking about owning another sentient being?" Morrow was outraged. "That's against everything the Federation stands for. Slavery is illegal here, Mister!"

Janner shook his head, laughing a little.

"What's so funny, Janner?" Morrow demanded.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy killing you!"

Janner's smile was fierce. Casually, he lifted a hand, flicking his fingers lazily. Something very like phaser bolts leaped from those fingers, striking the admiral in the chest and head before anyone else could so much as blink. There was instant chaos, as men and women hastily tried to grab their children and keep them save from this sudden danger, with-Wesley was saddened to see-limited success. Another barrage from Janner, and Wesley and Khan threw themselves each off to one side, trying to force Janner to focus on one at the expense of missing the other. It was all they could do. Khan was unarmed, and all Wesley had was his sword. A great help that would be against a man who can make phaser bolts from his hands…

Just then, Security came in, phasers in hand, and now, it became a real phaser battle, bolts of coherent light zipping all over the place, destroying benches, statues, water fountains, and dead bodies, in the blink of an eye. In spite of all the firepower leveled at him, Janner remained unwounded. Wesley saw him take two hits-each one capable of reducing him to ash and fundamentals. And there he stood, unhurt, not even fazed. He's not even remotely human…

As if Janner had caught the tenor of Wesley's thought, Janner's body blurred, then seemed to morph, becoming more like a giant Shelob sized Tarantula…

Janner now had eight limbs to throw phaser bolts with, and he was…extravagant with it, reducing the park to ash, rubble, and bodies. And Wesley came to a sudden decision. It was sudden death, or it was a chance at life for everyone here. Either way, it was the only chance there was…

Robert Wesley drew the Shao Blade from its sheathe, and leaped to his feet, hearing Khan yell, "Ambassador! No!"

But he was already committed to this…

Wesley charged the creature, sword held ready. The creature raised limbs and fired…

Wesley would never be able to explain how, or why, things happened the way they did. He had brought the Blade up to block Janner's barrage. It had been an instinctive thing to do, to hold up something, anything that might serve as a shield. Not that Wesley actually expected it to work…

But it did. More, it threw Janner's fire right back at him, with a little something extra, for good measure…

Wesley felt as if he had been struck by lightning, a spasm of something that went far beyond what the word agony normally entailed. But he also heard a scream of agony, and rage, from the attacker. Then, he heard nothing at all…

Explanations and Discussions

As he had promised Dr. McCoy, he was talking to Montgomery Scott. The trouble was, after all the talk of how the new Enterprise was doing-splendidly-he couldn't think of how to steer the discussion to Khan Singh. Fortunately, Scott knew something was up.

"If you don't mind my askin' sir, there's something buggin' you. What's up?"

Jim chose his words carefully. After having received a scolding from the Doctor about springing bad news on people, he didn't want to make the same mistake with his Chief Engineer. Still, and in was an in. Play it by ear, he told himself.

"I've just received unexpected new concerning the Reliant. It seems we've all been laboring under mistaken assumptions."

"What kind of mistaken assumptions?"

Brace yourself…Jim thought. Then:

"Khan Singh wasn't on the Reliant."

Scotty came to his feet, a certain light in his eyes.

"Where is that murderous fiend? I'll-"

"Shut up, Scotty," Kirk raised his voice a little. "Let me explain…"

It took a while. Scott was listening, at least. But whether he believed it or not…

At length, Kirk finished the tale. Scott sat there, turning things over in his mind.

"A clone killed my nephew?"

"Yes," Jim nodded. "Khan wasn't even there when it happened. And that clone killed everyone that Khan has ever loved."

Scott was still thinking things over.

"How did this happen? Why? And where is he anyway?"

"He's with Ambassador Wesley right now. Are you braced for another shock, Scotty?"

"I canna tell" Scotty's brogue was always strongest when he was tired, or upset. "But out wi'it anyway"

"I'm taking Khan with us when we go on our mission."

Scotty was sipping his black coffee when Jim made that statement. The coffee went down the wrong tube. Choking, he gasped:

"Ye canna mean that, admiral!"

Jim waited patiently for Scotty to settle down.

"Believe me, Scotty," he said. "Khan's not the fiend you think he is. Whoever did this did it to him as well as to us. And, in the end, he has lost much more than we did. Yes, we lost Peter Preston. We lost Spock. Khan has lost all his people…right down to the last soul. I, for one, would like to see some justice done, some accounts made even. If you would like to see it so, maybe helping Khan see justice for his losses might be a way for you to see justice done on Peter's behalf as well."

"For my Peter?" Abruptly, Scotty looked about to cry. Then, he got control of himself. Leaning forward, an intense gleam in his eyes, he spoke…

"To see justice done for Peter, I'd help the devil himself. Here's my hand on it."

He held out his hand and Jim took it. Their handclasp was fierce. Then, the moment passed, they let go, and Scotty picked up his coffee.

Khan will be aboard as a passenger?" Scotty asked.

"No. He's Starfleet now. Bob Wesley, and Sarek too, pulled a few strings. He'll be acting as Bob's aide. When he's not needed as Bob's Aide, I'll have him on the Helm."

Jim frowned. They should've been here by now. He was about to buzz Wesley's apartment when Starfleet Main Hospital Center signaled through Jim's desk Comm. unit. It was Dr. McCoy.

"Jim," he said. "You'd better get down here. There's been an attack at Wesley's place.'

Jim felt an electric tang that swept up his spine at the announcement.

"How bad, Bones?'

"I don't know," McCoy, reduced to miniature on the small view screen, glanced over his shoulder. "They're just brining in the casualties now."

"We'll be there," Jim switched off. "Let's go Scotty.

Kirk and Scotty arrived at Starfleet Main Hospital just a few minutes later. As Jim went down the hall, Scott in tow, looking for McCoy, he heard jumbled bits of conversation as witnesses tried to describe what they had seen…

"It was just a normal-looking guy. Then, he started throwing balls of fire around like a magician, only they weren't balls of fire, they were phaser bolts, and my little girl is dead now, because of him…"

"It was a thing, I tell you; an ugly thing with claws, fangs, and hair. I think I'm going to be sick…"

Kirk walked on, looking for McCoy. What happened? Are they all right? He felt Scott's hand on his shoulder. Dr. McCoy was at the end of the hall, draping a blanket over a still form. Kirk hurried up to him, eyes on the blanket-shrouded body…

"Who?"

McCoy straightened at Kirk's question.

"That was Admiral Morrow," glancing at Scott. "Does Scotty know?"

"I told him," Jim replied. McCoy nodded, then continued…

"Khan's fine, even though all the witnesses agree the attack was aimed at him. Admiral Morrow simply got in the way. Ambassador Wesley seems to have done something…"

"Bob? He isn't dead, is he?"

"No," McCoy shook his head. "Although he should be by what I've heard."

"Where is he?"

"He's in one of the beds here. Khan's there too, keeping an eye on him. I'll take you there."

McCoy led Kirk and Scott to a private room. When they entered, Jim saw Khan was bending over the bed. Wesley was still unconscious. Khan spoke without looking up.

"He's not awake yet."

Then, he looked up, noticing Scotty. Khan straightened, staring at Scott, the Engineer returned his stare, and Jim held his breath. Finally, Scott broke the silence.

"I hear you've found yourself in considerable difficulties since last we met, Mr. Singh."

Khan shot a glance at Jim, who nodded back. Khan took one hesitant step forward.

"I find myself in the position of having to apologize for the actions of another," he said. "Be that as it may, I am sorry for the death of your nephew. For what it's worth, I intend to bring Janner-whoever, or whatever he really is-to justice."

"That sounds about right to me," Scott held out a hand. Khan was startled, but took the proffered hand. Scott spoke again.

"Do me a favor, Khan, I want a piece of him."

"Naturally," Khan nodded. "I wouldn't expect anything else."

Jim cleared his throat. Khan and Scotty both turned to look at him. Before Jim could say anything, the door slid open, and Sarek put his head in.

"I heard about the attack. I am saddened by admiral Morrow's death. But, what of Ambassador Wesley?"

"Bones?" Jim asked.

"Ambassador Wesley came very close to being fatally electrocuted," McCoy said. "You'd better listen to what Khan told me. Tell them, Khan."

Khan nodded, and, as Sarek stepped inside, began to relate the events of the attack as he had seen it. Kirk interrupted him when he got to Wesley's desperate charge.

"Bob attacked him," Kirk was incredulous. "With a sword?"

"It was all he had, admiral. Shall I continue?"

"Yes," Jim spoke impatiently. Khan took up the tale.

"We were both pinned down by Janner's firepower. Are there living beings that can fire phaser bolts out of their hands"

"There have been a few documented cases," Sarek assured him.

Khan nodded at that.

"Janner's form changed, becoming a man-size spider, a tarantula, if you will, and still he was battling the Security men who had arrived to stop him. Janner was winning, Admiral. They couldn't kill him. Their phasers were nothing to him. But he could kill them. That was when Ambassador Wesley charged Janner…"

Khan shook his head in disbelief.

"Admiral," he continued. "I was certain he was killing himself by doing this. Janner fired several of those phaser bolts at him. But he had brought his sword up into Guard Position. The phaser bolts struck the sword, but they didn't exactly strike the sword either. The energy seemed to dance around the sword, caught by it in a way. The crystal hilt flared, brightly, then the energy, augmented, somehow, was sent back to the attacker, to Janner. Ambassador Wesley collapsed, but Janner collapsed too. All that firepower, all those phasers, and the only one who actually harmed Janner were ambassador Wesley."

"What happened to Janner's body" Kirk asked.

"It changed back to human form as he lay there, but the body disappeared before anyone could examine it."

Khan fell silent, the story told. Kirk stood there, digesting the other man's words.

"How is Bob, Bones?" he turned to Dr. McCoy. "Does this sight of your tell you anything?"

"It's telling me he'll be okay," McCoy replied. "But it's not telling me anything about when he'll come around. Bear in mind that he did almost die back there. He might need a few more hours."

"That's time I don't think we have, Bones. Can we beam him up to Sick Bay? I want to be gone by tomorrow morning. That thing knows where Khan is. It killed Morrow, and damned near killed Bob, trying to get to Khan."

"Then get Khan aboard," McCoy replied. "It would be extremely difficult for anyone to attack Khan there. But I don't think Janner's in any condition to attack anyone right now. He could ever be dead for all we know. He absorbed one hell of a lot of firepower there. I think Ambassador bought us some time here, and I'd like to use that time making sure the Ambassador really is fine before we go charging off into the mission."

Jim nodded.

"Let me know when he wakes up," he said. "Scotty?"

"Aye, Sir?"

"Khan's using an alias here; Lieutenant Martin Santirez. Take Lieutenant Santirez up to the Enterprise. Lieutenant?"

"Yes?" Khan cursed himself for not responding properly with Aye, Sir…

"You'll find quarters have been assigned to you. Go there, and stay there until I give the word. Both of you go now."

Scotty and Khan departed, leaving Jim with Dr. McCoy, Sarek, and the unconscious Robert Wesley. Jim looked down at his old friend.

"What did Bob do with that sword of his?" he wondered aloud.

McCoy shook his head.

"I'll be damned if I know."

"It is possible that acted as a conduit for something," Sarek spoke up. "Something that wanted Khan to survive the attack."

"Somehow, that isn't comforting." Jim commented. "Bob could've been killed."

"Perhaps," Sarek steepled his fingers together, a mannerism that reminded Jim of Spock. The Vulcan went on.

"It is my belief that we have been drafted for a special mission."

"Oh, come on!" McCoy laughed. "We were drafted by a higher Power?"

"I lack the information to answer that with any degree of competence. Nonetheless, someone, or something has chosen us to be its agents."

"And, any of us could die, a martyr for the Cause?" Jim asked.

"It is a distinct possibility," Sarek replied. "I had a dream last night. Admiral?"

Jim nodded. McCoy glared.

"About this?"

"No, Bones, not about this. What are the odds Bob had a Dream too?"

"If the pattern remains the same, admiral, then Ambassador Wesley dreamed too last night. I respectfully ask to accompany you on your mission."

"Spock told you to?"

"He asked, Admiral."

Jim shook his head.

"Sarek, as you said, any of us could die. Maybe even all of us-"

"Jim," McCoy interrupted. "We're the Dream Team. I think we all have to go."

"How do I explain this to Starfleet Command?"

"Simple," Robert Wesley's voice brought them around. "I'll tell them. They'll listen to me."

"Bob," Jim was relieved. How are you feeling?"

"You don't want to know," Wesley grumbled as he slowly sat up. "What happened?"

"Sarek thinks you acted as a conduit for a higher power, or something," McCoy said.

"What?"

Jim took a seat by the bed, studying his friend.

"Do you remember attacking Janner, Bob?"

"Oh yes," Wesley laid his head back against the pillow. "Did I kill him?"

"Bones thinks it's possible. Did you dream one of those Dreams last night?"

Wesley nodded.

"Matt told me to wear my sword at all times," he said. "I guess I'm a believer now. What were the casualties?"

"About forty all told," Dr. McCoy spoke up. "Mostly children and their parents, most of the Security Guards who responded to the attack…and Admiral Morrow."

Wesley's features went grim when he heard. He found that he hated Janner with a passion.

"Janner was killing people left, right, and center. He was enjoying it, having a grand old time. Is Khan…"

"Khan's on the Enterprise," Jim said. "Seriously, Bob, how do you feel?"

"Well enough to beam up to the Enterprise myself. Where are my clothes?"

"In the closet, along with your sword," McCoy replied. "Jim, why don't you and Sarek go on up. I'll get Ambassador Wesley up on his feet."

"Jim," Wesley sat up. "Enterprise can't leave until we get our mission orders."

"I know, Bob, but I'll feel one hell of a lot safer up there. Sarek?"

Admiral Kirk and Sarek departed, leaving Wesley alone with Dr. McCoy. The ambassador swung his legs to the floor as McCoy brought his clothes and the sword over. Wesley dressed quickly.

"You think I killed Janner?" he spoke as he slid the sword into the scabbard.

"Well… It's possible, I suppose," McCoy said. "But, considering the kind of firepower Janner was flinging around, I wouldn't exactly bet money on it. Be careful, Ambassador. You could be prone to dizzy spells for a few days."

"Yes," Wesley understood all that. Even so…

"Dr. McCoy, I believe that Jim is right. The Enterprise is probably the safest place for now."

"Okay, sir. But we're beaming direct from here to Sickbay, and you are going to spend the night there."

Wesley sighed as Dr. McCoy commed Enterprise. Within minutes the private room was empty…

End Book I

Stay tuned for Book II

Disclaimer: I don't own the TOS Characters, or the TOS Universe. However, I do own the Sanctuary Alliance Characters. If you want to borrow them, ask me, and credit me for their use…