Hello all! So I had this idea for a story awhile back and it won't leave me alone. Eventually, it's gonna be Khan/OC, but it'll take a while. Ralph Offenhouse, Dr. Kaur, and Gary Seven are all part of the official Star Trek universe as well. Also, I'm starting this in the 20th century! It'll go through the Eugenics Wars and then into the 2009 version. The first chapter is more of a prologue, just to establish some backstory. No flames please, but constructive criticism is welcome.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of the novels associated with it.

"Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping, Left its seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain, Still remains. Within the sound of silence."

- The Sound of Silence, Simon and Garfunkel

The Thar Desert

India May 7, 1974

Jaipur had looked better on the postcard he had purchased for his wife that morning. Pictures had a way of doing that. There was no smog, the ancient buildings gleamed, and the exotic fruit stands were fruit stands, not a filthy slum. One private car ride and two hours outside the city, his suit jacket was clinging to his back with sweat. However, Ralph Offenhouse supposed it didn't matter anyway; his destination was underground. It would be cooler down there, with none of the humidity that seemed to strangle the air out of him currently. "We've arrived, Mr. Offenhouse," The driver informed him as he slowed the Mercedes to a stop.

There was nothing remotely interesting about the worn-down compound from the outside. Aside from the single road in and out of the gates and the electric, barbed wire fences surrounding it, the main building could've passed for any storage facility. Offenhouse knew better. The Mercedes pulled away and he began walking toward the front. He pressed the intercom: "This is Ralph Offenhouse, tell Dr. Kaur I've arrived." It scarcely took a moment before the door slid open and two military men stood aside for him to enter.

"Mr. Offenhouse, sir, we'll need to inspect you before you go any further," the bulkier of the two men explained.

Damn Pathetic. Offenhouse scoffed, "You realize—"

The second man nodded, "Sir, it's protocol. Don't matter if you're head financier or a janitor. Everybody here needs to be checked by us."

"Why, you been having problems with security?" Offenhouse stepped around.

"Sir!"

"I'll be talking to the director about this. You understand?" A pause. "I asked you a question, mister. Do. You. Understand."

The men looked at each other, and Offenhouse could see the decision in their eyes before they made it. The one who had initially stopped him was the one to speak. "Of course. Sorry to be a bother, Mr. Offenhouse."

"Good. Lead the way, gentlemen."

Dr. Kaur would be returning to her office shortly. The secretary had informed Offenhouse that he was free to go in and wait. It was well-known that Chrysalis' director prefered spending her time in the basement labs in order to oversee the development of her creations directly. In past visits to the center, Offenhouse had noted she had particularly spent her time interacting with the one she herself had been a surrogate for. Kaamil, Kaman, Kamat— some distinctive cultural name or another. He couldn't be bothered to think about it right now. It just served as a cringe-worthy reminder to his own problems.

Secondary infertility. That was what his wife, Marie Offenhouse, had learned from their doctor a year and a half after the difficult birth of their son, Robert. Almost ten years had passed to date since they'd received the news. She'd sunk into a depression and began drinking, especially when he was away from home on business trips such as these. How many times Marie had begged him not to go, and give up his financing of the Chrysalis Project completely. "I don't give a rat's ass about your Utopia genetic bullshit world anymore! This is your job, Ralph, not your life! And I'm your wife, dammit, damn you!"

She'd screamed and cried. The beautiful, quiet woman he'd married was a homemaker and wanted nothing more than to be a mother to her family, a happy family that was nothing like the one she'd grown up in. He supposed the gnawing feeling he had at leaving her and Robby behind was why he'd brought her the postcard in the first place. To prove he still cared about her. But she just couldn't understand, she didn't know how important, how crucial, his work was.

So much had happened in the past century. Countries around the world brought nationalism to a fever pitch, itching to begin a conflict as a result of their imperialist policies and military buildup. Ralph remembered hearing about— and seeing— how his grandfather had wasted five months in the trenches during the First World War, only to return home with twin holes tunneled through the back of his head where the surgeons had let out the excess mustard gas. Still, the armistice of 1918 hadn't solved anything, if it had, then his father wouldn't have spent Ralph's childhood pinpointing strategy for the Allies in Eastern Africa. Humanity was wasted, it had accomplished terrible things and the atrocities—

The door swung open and Dr. Kaur entered. "Ralph! Welcome back. We just received the new chemical shipment last week, border security had to be paid off again." This, he could believe. The Indian government knew nothing about the project. Any minor or otherwise necessary details were reserved for the ears of Indira Gandhi and some select others alone.

"Good. Happy to hear it," Ralph reached into his inner jacket, pulling out an envelope. "Some of us had a meeting in San Francisco the other day. Here's a list of the new financial plans for '75, as they stand right now."

"Mmm." She took the envelope, opening it and perusing the paper inside. "As long as you're here, you should join me for a tour of the new nurseries."

Offenhouse smirked, "Is that an offer or an order?" Nonetheless, he opened the door leading from her office as she rolled her eyes.

"It means we have a surrogate in labor and I want to see how our new augment turns out. Hurry up."

What creeped Ralph out the most about augment babies was that they didn't cry. Sure, they wailed for food and their caretakers, as any new child would, but the weren't the incessantly screeching mess that most newborns were, Robby included. The girl had been declared healthy by Kaur and her associates, including the one next to him now, leaning heavily against the glass window looking into the birth chamber. Gary Seven was his name and, Ralph noted, he didn't seem like the type of man that would normally spend his time around this sort of thing.

"'Spose you don't have any kids of your own, do you Mr. Offenhouse?" Gary asked. Ralph nodded politely, staring ahead where the heart machine beeped over the newborn's biobed.

"As a matter of fact, I do. A son, Robert."

The men passed into a comfortable silence, and Ralph took his time to examine the sleeping infant. She didn't look like anything special, yet her lungs were already twice as strong as his, she'd be running circles around Robby in mathematics by the age of five, and never would she ever suffer injury, unless it was from another augment child during a play fight. It really is amazing what we've done in the past twenty years. Gary's brash drawl reached Ralph's ears again.

"It'd be interesting to get a few of them outta here. Ya' know? See if we can integrate them into normal society—" Clearing his throat, Ralph mulled over the thought. Raising an augment. He pictured Marie, rocking the baby girl in her arms, running across the yard with her, the buildup of liquor bottles gone from the cabinets and their trash bins.

He turned to face the man, "You understand that they're here for a purpose, a purpose I, among others, have given millions towards in funds—"

Gary paused. "Yes, I know. But some, myself included, believe the… superior intellect of these children would better be served in society via direct exposure at an early age. They could be raised alongside their peers, normal human children—"

"— Because nothing good could come of raising a genetically superior group of individuals together for the first twenty years of their lives with no outside contact other than a group of god-defying scientists and human teachers with inferior mental ability."

Apparently, Kaur had managed to enter without either of them knowing, and Ralph snapped out of his thoughts of parenthood. The woman lightly laughed, and he smiled politely, while Gary retreated back into a corner. "I don't think you'll have anything to worry about, Mr. Seven."

It might've been a trick of the harsh lighting in the corridor, but something harsh in the eyes of his colleague almost, for a moment, made Offenhouse think the opposite. Behind her, something dark slowly moved forward. Oh, right, the boy she was so inclined towards. And he still couldn't recall the child's name— no, not quite a child. An augment perhaps a few years older than Robby, with short, dark hair and an unreadable expression on his face. Komad? Kamal?

"Your driver has arrived, Ralph, " she addressed him, "Thank you for your continued support and I wish you a safe trip back."

"Of course, Dr. Kaur." He nodded towards Gary. "Have a good day, Mr. Seven." Ralph glanced back once more through the window into the room where the girl lay, sleeping soundly. No mother would be there to nurse her later on, the woman had probably been paid already for her secrecy and was undergoing recovery in a separate wing, no doubt aided by drugs to help fuzz up her memories of the day's events. And then, he felt another set of eyes on him.

The teen, standing straight, arms folded behind him, was scrutinizing him like Ralph was a sample under a microscope. He met the boy's eyes— what was his damn name— and tipped his head in acknowledgement. The kid didn't look away, but the corners of his mouth seemed to pull up ever-so-slightly, like he was proud of Ralph's response to him. Arrogant little jackass.

Behind him, Kaur chuckled. "Of course, you probably don't remember my little shadow." She stepped aside and gestured at the boy.

Ralph forced a smile in return. "I'm afraid Dr. Kaur is right, son. What do they call you, again?" The augment didn't answer, instead drawing his vision to the child asleep, studying it as a cat might look at a new addition to their household. Seeming to decide as if there was nothing there to interest him, the boy turned back to Ralph. His voice was clearly dismissive of the adult in front of him.

"You may call me Khan."

San Francisco, United States

May 19, 1974

"... Thoroughly unexpected by the international community. When asked about the reasons behind the secretive conduction of the nation's first nuclear test, government officials refused to make further comments. The explosion, already nicknamed Smiling Buddha, came from a remote location in the Thar Desert—"

Ralph turned off the radio, sick to his stomach. The news had already reached him the morning before. Dr. Kaur was dead, hundreds of augment children were in the process of being recovered, and the Chrysalis Project… gone. The project he'd put so much time into, given so much financial backing to in the name of humanity, had literally gone up in flame. Somehow, someone had managed to infiltrate the program and nothing was left.

Almost nothing, that was. He looked at the letter on his desk, unable to process it. "Ralph. I saw the way you looked at her the other day. You need this baby as much as she needs parents, not scientists, looking after her. Things here are chaos, I don't know how but we've gotta cover it up somehow and find the rest of them. Remember what I said. Her birth mother named her Leila Dohai, but call her what you want. Gary."

Ralph wandered out into the hall across from his office, looking down at the living room from the top of the stairs. The living room where Marie gently rocked Leila back and forth, cooing at her as she gently fed her bottled formula.

Tell me what you think. I'm looking forward to reviews and will try to update regularly.

Xx Mirabean