Chapter 1 – A Rising Storm

Since the late afternoon, the clouds above San Francisco had become thicker, their darkness like an omen of something sinister that lurked in the shadows. And now, as the day was nearing its end, the clouds blocked out all light from the moon and stars, already changing the evening into night. The air in the city was heavy and sticky, whitecaps on the surface of the Bay danced along with the incoming tide. All this promised one thing: a thunderstorm, a thunderstorm that would last for hours.

But the mood not only applied to the weather. The emotions of the lone figure that surveyed the high-rise apartment on the other side of the street were in as much turmoil as the approaching storm – and were no less dangerous.

The few passers-by who were still out on the streets didn't pay the man any attention as he leaned against a wall, pale blue-green eyes fixed on the skyscraper and its glassy façade.

He waited patiently, even though his time was limited. Lesser men would have been nervous, would rush things, but he wasn't a lesser being. He was better – at everything. Some had mused that he wasn't even human, but this was not true. He looked human – one might call him handsome – and the core of his existence was rooted in the human species. But still, he was more than a simple man from Earth.

His keen eyes pierced the twilight, his sharp hearing analysed every noise in a radius of more than a hundred meters, his nose caught the smell of food and alcohol coming from the nearby restaurants and bars. All this registered in his mind and would stay there as long as he thought the information necessary. After that, he would simply 'delete' it.

Somewhere down the street, a church bell rang and called the tenth hour, but the man didn't need a clock to know how late it was. His sense of time was precise – as though he had his own clock ticking away in his brain.

His gaze wandered once more over the storeys in the upper half of the skyscraper. Several windows were illuminated, some had turned dark by now.

There, on the forty-eighth floor, behind two or three of those windows, was the reason for his coming to this part of the city. In one of those apartments was the man he was eager to meet again – and not for a social call. Far from it. When he was done with this man, there would be more blood on his hands. He had killed before – countless times – and not just in self-defence. He didn't enjoy killing – he never had – but when it was necessary, he did it; quickly, efficiently, and mercilessly. And the man he was about to visit should expect no mercy! No, this was one of the very few times he really was going to enjoy sending someone to his death. He would revel in pressing the life out of his victim!

His attention was brought to a woman who walked towards the entrance of the skyscraper, and he took a deep breath. He already knew where to find his enemy after he'd checked the board with the names and comm numbers beside the entrance, but he still had to wait before he could take action. It had been too early when he arrived, and the risk of his prey receiving visitors – witnesses – just as he was being made to pay for his deeds, would have been too high.

But now his time had come, and that of his soon-to-be prey was running out. The time of his vengeance was approaching, and the woman who was about to enter the building would unknowingly be his accomplice in his revenge.

From one moment to the next, the features of the silent observer changed from the emotionless mask which had covered his burning hate to a pleasant smile. Then he started to move. With graceful strides, he crossed the street, which was unusually quiet for this time of night. The sedatives which had been forced into his body for weeks had already worn off hours ago, and his long legs carried him easily to the building's entrance, and to the young brunette woman. She'd just taken her key-card out of her pocket and was about to swipe it through the lock-sensor as he cleared his throat.

"Good evening," he greeted in a perfectly polite tone. The soft, deep baritone voice instantly suggested trust and kindness – a deceptive fact that couldn't be further from the truth.

The young woman turned around, startled, but she relaxed immediately as she looked straight into his handsome face with the high cheekbones, bowed lips, and a pair of wide-set pale blue-green eyes. The light of the streetlamp made his almost-white skin shimmer like marble, while the rest of the man was clad in black. Even his smoothed-back hair was ebony, making an attractive, almost alluring contrast to his pale features.

"I am sorry, Miss, it was not my intention to startle you," the stranger said with a voice other men would probably covet, and lowered his head in an old-fashioned salutation.

"Oh… It's okay," the young woman answered, smiling at him. She might be engaged and more-than-happy with her fiancé, but this guy could make her weak. "So… How can I help you?" she asked, trying not to stare at him too much. She didn't want to give him the wrong idea.

The man glanced quickly at her key card – twelfth floor, he read – and flashed her a brilliant smile. "Oh, only with the usual neighborly help." He extended his hand to her and the young woman looked pleased with the warm, firm grip of his long, slender fingers. "May I introduce myself? I'm Frank Authborn."

"Jennie Taylor," she answered. "Nice to meet you."

An odd smile hovered on his lips for just a moment, before he continued, "I just moved in on the twenty-ninth level, but I've left my key-card in my flat. Would you be able to let me in? Otherwise I'll have to spend my first night on the street." He smiled again, this time more widely.

Jennie laughed. "Oh dear, we can't have that." She turned and pulled her key through the sensor slit. "How will you get into your apartment if you've left the key?" she asked, while she stepped through the sliding doors, the stranger at her heels.

"A friend of mine is up there, helping me unpack my things. Unfortunately, I also left my communicator, so I couldn't even contact him."

Mirth danced in Jennie's large dark eyes. "Bad luck!" She pointed to the board outside of the building. "You could also have tried the buzzer, you know?" she teased, which earned her a low chuckle from the handsome man.

"Yes, if I knew which of all those buttons belongs to my flat, I could have been there with a cold beer and chatting with my friend half an hour ago."

Another small giggle escaped Jennie's lips. "Well, I think those buttons are confusing if you're not used to them. You're not from around here, are you?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm from the quiet countryside of jolly old England."

"Ah, that explains the accent." She winked at him. "Well then, welcome to San Francisco. It isn't as quiet here as it probably is where you come from, but I'm certain you'll get used to it. The city has a lot to offer – besides all the people who are usually in a hurry, the noisy cadets from Starfleet Academy, and too much traffic."

"That's good to know," he said kindly, and walked to one of the four elevators. The young woman followed him. Only twenty seconds later and the elevator stopped at the twelfth floor. The stranger bid the nice lady 'good night' before the doors closed, and his journey finally ended at the forty-eighth level. The lights in the corridor, which were on sensors, came on as he left the elevator, his feet silent as he walked towards his prey. The open, friendly expression he'd worn earlier had completely vanished from his face. A fire burnt behind his eyes and his whole body buzzed with energy, fuelling his fury and desire for revenge.

He stopped at the door, the last barrier between himself and his target. His eyes found the nameplate beside the doorbell, and a scowl appeared on his features as he read it: James T. Kirk.

center*************************/cemter

Nothing is more soothing than a nice, warm shower with real water. The words of his friend Leonard McCoy echoed in Jim's head as he braced his hands against the wet wall of his shower cubicle and enjoyed the hot spray that splattered down his back.

The last few days had been full of paper-work and many, many calls and meetings. There had barely been time to have a short lunch with his two friends 'Bones' McCoy and his soon-to-be-again first officer, Spock. Somehow he had always managed to slip out of the office to meet them, even if the communication-panel on his desk lit up like a Christmas tree and a yeoman called after him that he still had to… Well, whatever. Jim had needed those breaks – not only to fill his growling stomach with a nice meal, but also to put some distance between himself and the duty he had finally fulfilled today.

It had been an honor to give the speech at the commemoration a year after the brutal attack on Starfleet Headquarters that had cost the lives of several admirals and captains, along with their first officers, but it had taken a lot out of the young man. Not because of the large audience and the media focus from around Earth, and even from other planets; Jim hadn't worried that he would make mistakes during the speech or that he would miss a gesture during the whole ceremony. No, this event had had a deep emotional connection for him – because one of the dead being commemorated was the only man he'd ever regarded as a father, Christopher Pike, the man who'd pulled him out of his self-destructive early adulthood and who'd given him a new purpose: Starfleet.

For more than for four years, Pike had been a steady presence, had been an adviser, a protector, and a mentor to him. He had shown Jim a way out of the misery he'd constantly felt, leant him a supporting hand whenever it was necessary – which had been often – and had shown sympathy when everyone else had not.

And now this great man was dead. Buried, but not forgotten. The man Jim had looked up to had died because of the mistakes another admiral had made, and because of a super-human relic that same admiral had woken up from a three-hundred-year sleep: Khan Noonien Singh.

Khan…

The name made Kirk shudder even now, after twelve long months.

No one had driven him to his utter limits like Khan had. Hell, he'd even died because of the Augment – and had been brought back, also because of him; well, because of Khan's blood, to be precise. And, if Jim were willing to admit it, the Augment had saved his life twice before: once on Qo'noS, the Klingon home-world, and again while Jim had been flying blind through space, heading with deadly speed toward the Vengeance, where he would have been squashed against the starship's surface if Khan hadn't intervened.

Jim rubbed his forehead as the image of the enhanced man rose in his mind's eye: strong lean body, slightly taller than him, perfect posture, long limbs which he moved with the grace of a cat, sleeked-back black hair, piercing pale eyes the color of the sea – and just as deep and dangerous as the oceans – impossibly high cheekbones, and a taunting smirk made by a sensitive mouth. The man, who appeared to be in his early thirties, had been brilliant – his mind even quicker than Spock's – something, Jim had thought to be impossible, and driven by an inner fire which seemed to burn the world around him. Sometimes cold as ice, sometimes fierce as an erupting volcano, especially when he'd been wronged or when it came to his crew, which he regarded as family, Khan had intrigued everyone but also made them wary, a challenge Kirk would have loved, had the circumstances different.

Nevertheless, in some way, Jim could understand why the Augment had run amok when he thought his crew had been killed – Khan's reaction couldn't be described as anything else – but to murder all those innocent people in London and then to attack Starfleet HQ, killing the commanding officers, had simply been too much – not to mention flying a starship into San Francisco Bay, destroying part of the old harbor. It was still a miracle that the town's landmark – the Golden Gate Bridge that Jim could see from the windows of his living room – had survived the whole mess, but the damage to the skyline was still like an open wound in the city, and it would take years before everything could be rebuilt.

No, what Marcus had done to Khan – and Jim was sure he only knew a fraction of all the Augment had endured at the hands of the admiral and Section 31 – had been utterly wrong, cruel and inhumane. Kirk was compassionate enough to understand the pain Khan had been put through – the sheer agony he'd felt as he'd been led to believe his family had been killed, not once, but twice – but even that didn't excuse what he had done as a result. If Khan had wanted revenge on those who'd mistreated and threatened him and his crew, Jim would have been able to accept the unleashed fury of the Augment. But to murder those who'd had no hand in the deeds was as wrong as Marcus's crimes.

Jim sighed and turned off the water and slicked back his thick, blond hair. During the last months, after the nightmare of his death and revival had waned, he hadn't thought too much about the super-human. But since Jim had learned he'd be giving the speech at today's commemoration, the memories flared anew – and this time with unnerving vividness. Sometimes he thought he could even smell the smoke of the burning bridge of the Enterprise, or the not-unpleasant scent of Khan himself, while he walked through the corridors beside Jim on their way to the air-lock. Other times, Jim was back in the warp-core, feeling the radioactivity piercing him in an oddly soft way, making him weaker and weaker with each passing moment, turning his own body against him until all he could feel was the life leaving him. In other nightmares, he faced Marcus at the screen on the bridge, begging for the life of his crew, only to be turned down, leaving Jim helpless and waiting for the Vengeance's weapons to destroy his ship, and with it his friends and crew – his own family.

The young captain had been relieved when those nightmares became rarer, but for the last four or five weeks now, they had returned – and the reason for this, why Jim remembered every detail from last year's events with unusual clarity, whispered at the edge of his mind. Also unnerving was that the ability to accurately recall memories wasn't the only change in him; he was more agile and stronger than before, his mind more focused. There was only one logical reason for all this, one which he wasn't very happy with: Khan's blood. It had not only brought him back from the dead, but had also strengthened him in other more subtle ways. All right, so he didn't hate living with the whole 'stronger' thing; sometimes it really was an advantage. But on the other hand, the thought of having part of his enemy in his system was almost…eerie.

Jim stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, before towelling dry his hair and pulling a comb through the blond strands. A glance in the mirror above the wash basin showed the face of a man who'd seen perhaps more than someone should have seen at this young age. But it was also the face of someone full of life and whose sky-blue eyes twinkled with barely-hidden mischief. Several of his superior officers would even go so far as to call him reckless. But, hey! He was only twenty-six, had finished Starfleet Academy one year earlier than any other cadet, had loyal friends – of whom two were like brothers – and, in one week, he would start a five-year mission with the best starship in the fleet. Of course he was alive with anticipation, the shower reviving him somewhat from the malaise he'd felt following that damned commemoration. Yes, it had been a privilege to have been chosen to honor the victims, but he was glad it was over, and he could now concentrate on his soon-to-be travels around the universe.

Eschewing proper clothing, he slipped into a pair of dark blue sweatpants and hung the wet towels over the small drying rack, before leaving the bathroom. The light switched off as he left the room as no further movement was detected. Barefoot, Jim padded into the small kitchen adjacent to the sleeping and living areas, ordered the computer to dim the lights to thirty percent, poured himself a glass of scotch with soda – a gift from Scotty, and was settling in to watch some trash TV, when suddenly he felt with absolutely certainty that he was no longer alone.

Someone was here with him! And his gut told him that this wasn't a friendly visit.

"Good evening, Captain."

Jim froze. That voice… That rich deep baritone… He would have recognized it anywhere, just like he'd have recognized the taunting tone in which his rank was pronounced.

Putting the glass on the countertop, he whirled around, and found himself thrown into a nightmare he'd never expected to become real. The figure that had stepped out of the shadows and now watched him with fire in his sea-green eyes sent a chill through Jim, while he took in the marble features of the man he'd been pondering only minutes ago. A man, who had been put back into cryosleep and should have been locked away, together with his crew, and secreted away, secured by Starfleet's highest protective measures. But here he was, in Jim's apartment! And very much awake!

And Kirk realized then that he was looking into the face of death – his death!

Jim had no doubt why the Augment had sought him out, and a sinking feeling shot through his stomach.

"You…" was all he could whisper, hoping above all hope that he'd simply fallen asleep on his sofa after he got home and that he was, in fact, dreaming. Okay, it would be the creepiest dream he'd ever had, but still…

A sneer played at Khan's mouth, while he eyed up his adversary – the adversary he had come to kill. The Augment had heard the shower running as he cracked the code of Kirk's lock and let himself in, and his nostrils had instantly caught the scent of his opponent. But the thought to use this opportunity to catch his enemy by surprise hadn't even occurred to him; he wanted to confront Kirk before he made him pay for his betrayal, and everything Khan had suffered after the so-called 'trial'.

Khan felt his sneer changing into a predatory smile as the intense blue eyes of the younger man grew wider, showing a hint of fear. Good! Very good! At last the man was bright enough to know when was facing an impasse. It would make things more…interesting.

Without his uniform – or that poor excuse for fashion Kirk had worn on Qo'noS masquerading as a 'dealer' – the captain looked even younger than usual, more like an oversized boy than a commanding officer, especially in his present state. Clad only in sweatpants, with damp hair and flushed skin after a hot shower, Kirk could easily be mistaken for a simple student attending one of the many academies in San Francisco.

But Khan wasn't fooled. He knew there was a clever mind behind the boyish appearance, a mind that found extraordinary ways to solve problems. He had seen the fierce fighter that was James Kirk, the recklessness mixed with courage, the loyalty towards his friends, the strong moral compass, and the display of stubbornness – all things Khan could admire, even if these characteristics belonged to an inferior being.

He also could have taken a liking to the looks of his foe; the Augment was not blind. Kirk's face reflected the perfect combination of soft youth and growing firmness, his shoulders were broad, his belly flat, and years of varied training had gifted Kirk with muscles which didn't stand out like those of a bodybuilder, but glided beneath tanned skin.

If things had played out differently last year, Khan wouldn't have minded taking the young man for himself. Whether inferior or not, the super-human recognized beauty when he saw it. During his life back in the 20th century, he'd bedded both men and women, so there would have been no reason not to have claimed Kirk sexually. But after all that had happened during his desperate bid to save his crew, Khan only wanted one thing: to squeeze the life out of Kirk, to beat him to a bloody pulp before breaking his neck.

This damn boy had been responsible for raising his grief to new heights: the loss of his family, the humiliation during the so-called 'trial', being forced back into cryosleep – an unpleasant and painful process – only to be once more revived and find himself again used as a damn lab-rat, kept in a catatonic state, sometimes aware of his surroundings, sometimes not. There was no peace for Khan now, no escape from all the grief and pain the loss of his loved ones had caused. It was now a constant ache in the depths of his soul – if he even had one – to know that he had failed his crew and that he was now utterly alone in this whole universe, the last of his kind. He had failed those he held most dear, after believing he'd finally brought them to safety. Kirk and his damned half-breed Vulcan-friend had tricked him and murdered his family!

All good the looks, all notable attributes that the young man possessed were meaningless; Khan would make Kirk suffer as he had for the last two years. He would have James Kirk begging for mercy before the night was over!

In the meantime, Jim's mind was racing like a starship in warp drive while he held the Augment's piercing gaze. This was no dream, this was real! Khan was indeed here, only four or five meters away from him, and even though Kirk didn't notice any weapon on the super-human, he also knew Khan didn't need one; the man himself was a weapon. Jim's gaze shifted for a moment, glided over the figure of his adversary. Clad all in black – well, Khan did have a penchant for the dramatic – and wearing a long coat, the super-human looked similar to when Jim had first seen him back on Qo'noS. But this time, there was no determination in the depth of his pale eyes, only hate, hate and the promise of a very painful death.

Jim's phaser was on the table in the living area, his communicator… Well, it was somewhere near the replicator, meaning it was reachable. He only had to close the distance, take it, and then run like hell to the door, alerting security. Maybe he could make it. Maybe he could outrun his enemy, but the logical part of him – that part which had grown a little since Spock and he had developed a deeper friendship – told him that there was no chance to escape. Whatever he did, he'd be dead!

Khan had watched the young captain, knowing exactly what was going through his mind. "No snide comments, Kirk? No bravado? Don't tell me that seeing me again is enough to root you to the spot. Where is your courage?" His voice was laced with soft mockery – and it finally tore Jim out of his state of shock.

"How the hell did you escape?" he gritted out. "Why are you not asleep in your cryotube, sweetly dreaming of tormenting others?" Jim knew it wasn't wise to provoke the Augment; Khan's demeanor so far was all calm-before-the-storm, just like the weather outside, but, like so many times before, Jim's mouth was quicker than his brain.

"'Sweetly dreaming'?" echoed Khan, while he took a single step forward, enjoying Kirk's short flinch. "Sweetly dreaming of what, Captain? How your precious Starfleet used and abused me? How you betrayed me – you, and your damned Vulcan? How you two took everything I was living for away from me?" His voice lowered to a dangerous growl.

The first sheet lightening of the approaching thunderstorm flashed through the darkness outside of the windows, followed by a rumble in the distance. It distracted both men for only a second, then Khan glanced back at Kirk and saw that his opponent had moved slowly to the left, towards the replicator. "Looking for this?" he asked casually, and lifted his right hand.

Jim tried very hard not to give away the rising dread he felt as he recognized what the Augment held in his long, elegant fingers: his communicator! And as Khan showed him what he carried in his left hand, Kirk took a deep breath. It was his phaser. Damn it! Khan had to have been in his apartment for quite awhile to have found the only two things which could – maybe – have helped Jim out of the mess he now found himself in.

The smirk Khan gave him sent another shiver down Jim's spine, before the enhanced man whispered, "Do you want to know what I have planned for you, dear Captain?" He closed his fist tightly around the communicator. Jim's eyes went wide as he heard the small device crack beneath the inhuman pressure of the Augment's fingers. With a smooth gesture, Khan threw the broken communicator at Kirk's bare feet – and the fighter in Jim awoke.

"Hey, that thing was expensive!" he protested with false indignation. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to touch other people's stuff?"

"I had no mother, Kirk, not in the way you understand it," came the icy reply, and Jim cocked his head.

"Bad childhood? Well, that explains a lot." With growing unease, he watched Khan hurl the phaser into the entrance hall while fixing Jim with a glittering stare, before taking another step in Jim's direction. Every movement of the Augment's lean body revealed only one thing, he was preparing to strike. Jim gulped. He knew that he stood no chance against the advanced strength of the former dictator who looked at him like a predator would prey. Carefully, so as not to hasten the attack, Jim lifted both hands in a calming manner. "Right, listen, why don't we discuss this like the adults we are? I mean, come on, how old are you really? Thirty-two, thirty-three? And I'm twenty-six. So, technically, we both count as grown-ups; we can be reasonable and…"

"I don't remember your being 'reasonable' on Qo'noS," Khan hissed.

"Well, you really pissed me off when you killed the man who'd been like a father to me!" Kirk snapped, knowing exactly what the Augment was referring to. Jim's control had slipped as he punched Khan over and over again. "And it wasn't like I even hurt you; you looked fine, while my arm was sore for days after that."

"Yes, it was quite amusing, watching you tire yourself out by trying to beat me into the ground. But tell me, Kirk, after that…performance, would you call yourself 'reasonable'?" Khan taunted, while he stripped his coat off.

Jim bit his lip. Maybe the chit-chat was calming the rage that seemed to burn within the super-human, so he replied, "Well, to be honest, some of my superior officers would certainly agree that I am not as reasonable as I should be." He watched Khan drop his coat onto the floor. "But…that's me, and I…"

"Yes, that is you, Kirk. And now you will pay for what you did to me!" His voice became even deeper – and deadlier. "I hope you enjoyed your last day, because you will not see the sun rise again!"

Realizing that the last few minutes were only a grace period that had now come to an end, Jim was barely able to react as the Augment closed the distance between them with lightning speed. Kirk could feel Khan's fingers grazing his left shoulder and right arm as he backed away. Acting on pure instinct, Jim rammed his fist into the super-human's abdomen and ducked beneath the long arms, kicking at Khan's shin. That proved not to be the best of ideas, as he was still barefoot and only managed to injure himself, while the Augment didn't even sway. Dammit!

Kirk reached for the glass of scotch and threw it directly at his adversary's head, but Khan's reactions were too fast; he simply slapped the glass out of the way before it reached him, sending it against the wall. Scotch with soda rained onto the carpet. But, Jim's brief attack distracted the super-human long enough to give Jim the chance to move away slightly. Realising that a murderous Augment with lightning-like reflexes stood between himself and his phaser, Kirk decided on another tactic.

He ran for the living area to grab anything that he could use as a weapon. He heard Khan directly behind him, and dove over the sofa, tensing his muscles. The impact with the floor hadn't been as bad as he'd anticipated, and Jim was on his feet before the Augment could round the sofa. Gripping the side table, Jim lifted the furniture and hurled it at his nemesis. This time, the attack elicited a grunt from Khan, and Jim was able to kick the heavy coffee table – bare feet be damned – in the direction of the Augment, who was about to leap at him, sea-colored eyes wild with rage and a snarl on his lips.

The coffee table stopped Khan – if only for several seconds – then the furniture flew through the room and landed with a loud crash against the far wall, leaving a large dent, before falling to the ground. The noise of the table was accompanied by thunder rolling outside through the sky outside.

"Holy shit…" Jim gasped. The table was made of solid metal and was topped with a marble slab. Two men had carried it into the apartment, sweating like horses when they were done – and this crazy criminal threw it around like a pillow.

Kirk didn't waste more time considering the unnatural strength of his enemy; he'd already witnessed it before on Qo'noS, and again on the bridge of the Vengeance. In the blink of an eye, Khan was upon him, and Jim did the only thing he could do. He fought back. He would not go down without a fight. He knew that there was no chance to come out of this alive, and that his resistance would only add fuel to the already blazing fury of the Augment. But if Jim had to die, he would not make it easy for Khan.

For several moments they exchanged blows, but as Khan blocked his fists with one arm and head-butted Jim, then swept his legs away with one well-targeted kick, it became clear that the enhanced human was only toying with him. Jim lost his balance but was able to get a good grip on Khan's shirt, pulling the other man with him as he went down. The weight of the slender, though heavy Augment pressed the air out of Jim's lungs, and before he could react, Khan had already regained control, straddling him and aiming his fist at Jim's face. Jim could feel a puff of air whiz past his cheek as he avoided the blow; his enemy hit the carpet where Kirk's head had been a second ago. But the way he'd moved had shifted Khan's target to his belly.

It hurt!

It really, really hurt, and for a moment, Jim saw stars, then he blindly hit back – completely aware of the fact that this was all just delaying the inevitable. He saw the blazing eyes above him, felt the deadly rage of his adversary radiating in waves off him, and with growing despair, Jim frantically tried to break free.

All for naught.

Blows found his shoulder and his chest, creating a nasty déjà-vu; Khan had thrashed him like this on the bridge of the Vengeance. However, this time, the super-human avoided Kirk's head, but only because he wanted him to stay conscious – conscious enough to realize what was happening to him – that he was about to be beaten to death. Fear like he'd never felt before gripped Kirk, a deep, all-consuming fear that reached for his heart with an invisible icy fist and squeezed.

"Khan, stop it!" Kirk gasped and received another punch – directly to his chin. It wasn't hard enough to break bone, but it made him dizzy, and he tasted blood. "For God's sake, get a grip!" Kirk shouted with a high edge to his voice that belied his terror.

"As you wish," the Augment snarled, and grasped Jim's scalp and aimed with his other hand, this time for his nose. Somehow Kirk managed to catch Khan's arm with both hands, while the grip in his hair became unbearably painful. Still, the young Starfleet officer concentrated solely on restraining his nemesis' fist.

"Do you really think you can stop me, Captain?" his attacker growled, tearing his arm out of Jim's grasp, ready to lunge at him again.

It wasn't Kirk who prevented the Augment's next blow, but a loud knock at the door, followed by an angry, "Young man! What's all this hellish racket?! Are you having a boxing match in there?"

Jim and Khan stopped mid-fight, Kirk in sudden relief, Khan in irritation. Then, seeing the look in the deep blue eyes of his adversary, Khan clapped a hand firmly over Jim's mouth. The heated glare he received would have amused him if he hadn't been so furious.

"Mr. Kirk? Is everything all right?" came the voice of the older man outside of the door again, and the super-human pressed his lips into a thin line before he glanced down. Kirk had started to squirm again, clawing at the hand that gagged him, and Khan couldn't help but respect the fighting spirit of his adversary.

Bringing his face directly beside Jim's he whispered, "Tell him everything is all right."

Kirk stilled and his eyes shot daggers at him.

"One wrong word, the wrong tone of voice, and I'll be forced to kill him, too," the enhanced man added quietly.

Jim's breath left him – damned bastard! – and for a moment he pondered his options, only to realize that there weren't any.

"Mr. Kirk?" Concern echoed in the question that sounded through the closed door.

"This is the only warning you're going to get," Khan murmured, and fixed Jim with a last piercing glance before removing his hand, ignoring the tingling sensation in his palm where it had been sealed over Kirk's mouth.

Jim knew that Khan was deadly serious; he would kill Mr. Arnheim, his neighbor, without hesitation if Jim didn't do exactly as he'd been told.

Moistening his lips and ignoring the strangely pleasant taste Khan's fingers had left, he turned his face towards the entrance hall, cleared his throat, and called, "I'm sorry, Mr. Arnheim, I accidentally knocked over my coffee table."

For a moment there was only silence, then came the reply, "Your coffee table? Are you okay, m'boy?"

Was he was okay? No, he certainly was not! He was lying helpless beneath his mortal enemy, who was about to finish him off in a no doubt very brutal way.

Swallowing down the impulse to call for help and feeling Khan's hold on him tightening – as if the Augment had read his mind – Kirk answered breathlessly, "Yeah, I'm okay. I redecorated my apartment, that's all." Another rumble of thunder sounded from outside, and Jim asked himself if Mr. Arnheim would complain about that, too. He waited, hoping the old man would get the hint and leave before Khan lost his patience.

"Oh, okay, but keep it down, kid! Some of us have to get our beauty sleep. Good night," Mr. Arnheim said. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Jim realized that the old man was leaving, and with him, Jim's last chance of rescue. But there was no way around that; he wouldn't risk Arnheim's life to save his own.

"Good night" Jim answered, desperation rising.

"Well done, Captain." Khan's whisper turned Jim's attention back to the deadly problem at hand, and for just a moment, both men simply looked at each other – and with that came the realization of how close they really were. The Augment still straddled the younger man, and this, Jim had to admit, felt quite suggestive.

All of sudden, Jim became fully aware of Khan's body heat slipping through his clothes, while his foe's hot breath washed over his face. It left a tingling sensation that shot straight to a region of his body Jim really didn't need to respond now! Curse the damned adrenalin! And it wasn't like he'd never been interested in men before, even if he'd no real experiences with the same sex. And somehow, Jim had to admit, feeling that attraction for an enemy was kind of hot. Though, perceiving this while said enemy was about to kill him was also kind of creepy.

A lock of Khan's dark hair had fallen over his forehead, but the animalistic fury in his eyes had at least lessened a little bit – exactly like his vice-like grip on Jim's scalp – and Kirk felt a stirring of hope. Maybe the interruption had helped the super-human regain some control, maybe he had calmed down enough to be reasonable and…

Khan's next words burst Jim's hope like a bubble.

"Shall we continue?"

The cruel smile that accompanied this question shot a bolt of terror through Kirk and he reared up. With all his might, he tried to throw the Augment away from him, but the only thing he accomplished was bringing his groin into closer contact with Khan's. And the fact even enhanced super-humans had normal body functions like any other mortal was proven a second later, as Khan took a sharp breath and his eyes widened.

Using the distraction, Kirk rolled aside and escaped Khan's hold on his scalp. But he didn't get far before finding himself trapped again between the floor and Khan's lean body.

Jim growled in frustration as he fought against his captor. Even if he was weaker than the former dictator, he would fight Khan for as long as he could. He didn't stop wriggling like an eel, fighting with such fierce determination that he actually managed to elbow his adversary, which earned another grunt from the super-human. Grim satisfaction flared up in Jim. Writhing and squirming with all the strength he could muster, he tried to free himself from the long arms which were wrapped around him like steel, while a strong leg was draped over his calves and immobilized them.

Khan tightened his grip around Jim's torso, effectively stopping all chance of escape. "Give in, Kirk! It's over," he heard the baritone growl near his ear, but Jim didn't quit. Instead of surrendering, he furiously struggled, not noticing that he was pushing the lower part of his body against that of his nemesis in the process.

Khan took another sharp breath as his body once again reacted; his trousers began to become tight. He knew that the boyish officer didn't mean to excite him, but while squirming around like they were, contact was unavoidable. And as Kirk once again writhed, and his posterior bumped against Khan's groin again and again, another hunger besides that for revenge began to spread through the Augment.

Against his will, Khan's mind turned from being fixed on his opponent with hostility to something else he had successful ignored until now. He could feel the silky skin of the younger man's chest and arms beneath his hands, a thin sheen of sweat coating it. He sensed the rapid heartbeat, heard the harsh gasps, felt the strong pulse in Kirk's neck as he bent down and brought his lips once again near the captain's ear. The smell of Kirk's shampoo mixed with the captain's own scent – a pleasant combination of tangy grooming products and musk – was intoxicating.

Once again, Jim was far too aware of his enemy's proximity, of Khan's breath on his neck, and of the super-human's arms, from which he couldn't escape, while he felt the rapid beating of his captor's heart at his back.

And again, for a long moment, both opponents stilled. Then Khan's voice rumbled in his ear, "Will you surrender now?"

What?

Surrender?

To what? To being beaten to death?

"You must be crazy if you think I'd give in and let you kill me without a fight," Jim panted, and the low dangerous chuckle he received chilled him to the bone.

"Ah, I didn't expect anything else from you, Captain!"

Jim turned his head as far as he could and threw a hateful glare over his shoulder. Khan's face was near – far too near for his liking – and he wanted to punch the Augment, but both hands were still trapped, and he was unable to even move his legs; there was nothing he could do. Khan was like a living force field, wrapped all around his body and making it impossible for Jim to move any of his limbs.

"Go to hell!" Kirk snarled, realizing with growing fear that he couldn't put up any further resistance. Khan was right, it was over! Jim was utterly and completely at his mercy.

"I have, Kirk, twice, even," the former dictator sneered, ignoring the feelings the young man beneath him had woken in him. As tempting as it was, Khan would not give in to this unwelcome desire. Kirk deserved the most painful death possible and nothing else. "Your Vulcan broke my arm last time we met – maybe that's a good place to start with you?" he suggested and the grip of his fingers around Kirk's left arm tightened.

Jim bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out. He was in the clutches of a man who could literary crush every bone in his body with his bare hands, and – if Jim had correctly understood anything about the way Khan had destroyed his communicator – that was exactly the way the Augment wanted him to die. And it began now. Fear exploded deep inside him, but Jim wouldn't give his foe the satisfaction of showing it, even if his heart and soul were crying out for help.

Khan sensed the muscular, but slightly smaller body tremble ever-so-softly, but still his captive refused to acknowledge defeat. Kirk was too stubborn for that, too much of a fighter. He watched how the younger man bit his lip, drawing blood, and just for a moment Khan thought of how those lips could be put to better use – and then he smelled it, the familiar scent of an Augment's blood – not as strong and pure as it was within Khan's people, but still clear enough to catch the super-human's notice.

What had the young woman who spoke Klingon cried out as she materialized on the garbage transporter where the half-breed Vulcan and he had been battling? That he was needed alive to save Kirk? Khan had lost consciousness after she stunned him several times, and the Vulcan had beaten him senseless; he'd only come round in Starfleet Headquarters' prison several days later. But Khan didn't need to be a genius to figure out what the woman had meant. They had used Khan's blood to heal Kirk – from whatever had befallen the captain.

And, as it seemed, a small amount of his blood still flowed in the captain's veins, giving the young man unnatural strength. New anger flared in the Augment, while something in his mind whispered 'He is mine'. Khan brushed aside the sudden burst of possessiveness and frowned. "Not just betrayal, but also theft! So much for your 'nobility', Kirk!"

"You're one to talk!" Jim snapped, ignoring the inner voice that screamed at him to shut the hell up.

Khan only glared at him before murmuring, "Tell me, Captain, how does it feel to know that you owe your well-being a man you 'nobly' sent to a trial that was nothing more than a farce?" Kirk frowned. "How do you feel when you wake? Refreshed, strong, content – even if you'd barely had any sleep? How does it feel to suddenly have heightened senses, knowing perfectly well that all those enhancements are gifts from a 'criminal' you loathe?"

"What are you talking about?" Jim demanded, firmly telling himself that the shivers running down his spine were not caused by Khan's rumbling voice. The voice he not only could hear, but could also feel vibrating along his nerves. No, certainly those tremors were caused by the sheer mortal terror that was eating him alive. The grip on his arm had not loosened, but it hadn't snapped the bones either. Though it was only a matter of time before the Augment would tire of toying with him, and squash him like he had the communicator.

"I am speaking of the blood your doctor-friend took from me to save you!" Khan snarled, even more annoyed with the innocence displayed by his captive. He watched those sky-blue eyes grow wide. Misinterpreting the younger man's reaction as denial, he hissed, "Don't lie to me, Kirk! I can smell it!" His eyes seemed to burn in anger, and with the unwelcome desire that the close proximity had stirred in him, he acted without thinking. "I am sure I even can taste it!"

Giving in to the strong impulse that subdued his usually-controlled mind, Khan bent down and pressed his mouth forcefully over the small cut in Jim's bottom lip, drawing blood, while his tongue darted out to lick the small drop away the moment Kirk gasped in shock.

The second his captive unintentionally provided even more unwanted stimulation, something that felt like an electric bolt shot through Khan's body, and he knew he'd made a fundamental mistake. Yes, he could taste his own essence in the drop of the captain's blood, but that was nothing compared to the taste that lay beneath. His senses were overwhelmed by the flavor of the young man's mouth, of the soft lips, and the way Kirk's body tensed up.

The previously-unacknowledged lust began to mix with the anguish and hate Kirk had sparked in him the first time Khan had laid eyes on him – at the Daystrom building, as he'd attacked the meeting of the commanding officers with the stolen ship. At first he had ignored the blasts of the phaser-rifle which were shot at his jumpship from a window; the weapon couldn't seriously damage his spacecraft, but the sheer courage his attacker showed had demanded respect. And, as he'd thrown a glance at the man who'd been foolish enough to try to bring down the jumpship with nothing more than a phaser-rifle, Khan had seen only a shape – at least at first.

Later, after his opponent had somehow managed to destroy one of the ship's engines and he had been forced to flee, Khan had taken a closer look at the man who'd come the closest to stopping him. All he had seen was a young handsome face, blond hair and a pair of blazing blue eyes – the same eyes which had stared at him with awe, fascination, and astonishment when Khan had brought down an entire Klingon patrol and revealed himself to the three Starfleet officers who were cowering in the dirt. At first, the fury in which Kirk had lashed out at him a minute later had surprised Khan, then, he had recognized his attacker.

As Kirk stood before the barrier in the Enterprise's brig and displayed the barely-tamed wrath he'd felt towards him, Khan had revelled in the strong passion this Starfleet officer possessed, a passion he'd, at the time, fervently wanted to direct down a completely different path. But after all that occurred in the wake of their meeting, Khan had dismissed any kind of sexual attraction he may have felt towards Kirk.

Until now…

He had fallen into a trap he'd not anticipated as he bent down to prove to his captive and himself that his blood was now flowing in Kirk's veins. The instant Khan's mouth met that of his young nemesis, the suppressed lust flared again, racing through his being and settling in his stomach. It welled up beneath his skin and rushed heatedly to his groin. Kirk struggled again, which teased Khan's already hardening flesh even more. His instincts took over. Rolling Jim over, he pushed himself firmly against him, his mouth almost devouring the younger man's.

The shock that had surged through Jim as the Augment covered his lips with his own was beginning to wear off, when Khan's tongue entered his mouth.

That…was so not happening!

No!

Not here, not now, and not with Khan, of all people!

The Augment's hot breath washed over Jim's face, his arms and legs still holding him close. Then Khan slid over him, forcing Jim's hands above his head and pressing him down with his weight, while Khan's lips attacked him mercilessly.

Slowly Kirk realised that their combat had taken a completely different turn as Khan deepened the intimate assault. He tried to push the invader out – and a flash of hot white energy lashed through his whole being the moment his tongue touched the Augment's. Jim could feel himself hardening even more, and the adrenalin and bottled-up fear searched for a way to escape. The low growl that rose from Khan's throat was enough to throw Jim into action again. He wouldn't give in – ever! And even though the violence had changed into something new and completely unexpected, he would fight back as well as he could. At least in this department he might stand a chance against the enhanced man, and could even outdo him!

Khan groaned quietly as he felt Kirk responding to him. Their tongues battled and twined, teeth scratched at the sensitive skin of their lips, gasps were swallowed by each other. Usually Khan would have remained controlled, indeed, controlling his partners completely, but as a certain part of the younger man's anatomy made itself even more evident, a wave of pure lust rushed through him which cracked his composure.

He would have James Kirk! He would take him again and again, until the captain was out of his system, and only afterwards, would he snap his neck.

Khan tore his mouth from Kirk's, momentarily relishing the sweet, masculine taste, and stared down at his adversary who lay helpless beneath him. Swollen lips, flushed face, heavy breathing, a soft shimmering layer of sweat covering a well-toned chest… Kirk was everything he'd dreamed during his imprisonment aboard the Enterprise. And Khan's body responded to this now very real sight with a growing erection, the kind he'd not had in years – neither in his own time, nor since he'd been awakened in the 23rd century.

Oh yes, this night would turn out even better than imagined! The super-human's natural demand for domination, the too-long suppressed sexual need, and his burning greed for his insolent, lovely foe wouldn't allow him any other course! Augments were not only stronger in body and mind, their feelings were also more intense than those of normal humans.

Jim was out of breath and more blood had headed south into his shaft, but he didn't back down as his nemesis's eyes seemed to pierce his soul. Even if he didn't loathe the taste in his mouth, even if his attacker was hot as hell with this savage looks, his now-disheveled ebony hair, and the soft blush coloring his sharp cheekbones, Kirk would not surrender to the sudden desire Khan had somehow aroused in him.

"Get. Off," he all but snarled, but instead of enraging his nemesis, Khan only smirked evilly at him.

"This is exactly my intention, Captain," Khan drawled huskily. He let go of Jim's wrists and rose to his knees, still straddling him.

Jim, never one to miss a chance when given it, reared up again and punched the other man, trying to force him down off his lap. All that earned him was a pleased smirk, accompanied by an amused chuckle, while Khan caught his wrists again.

"So stubborn," he murmured, twisting Kirk's arms behind his back without actually harming him, and pulling the young captain against his chest in one fluid movement. "So much fire," he whispered in Jim's ear, giving it an almost gentle lick, before he left a wet trail down to where Jim's throat met his shoulder and bit into the soft flesh. Not too hard, not too soft.

"Son of a bitch!" Kirk gasped, as his body had its own idea on how to react to this new erotic assault.

"I will enjoy your hot temper – especially when displayed in a more…pleasurable way," Khan all but purred.

Jim thought his heart would leap out of his chest as he felt the hard proof of the Augment's desire against his own groin. Once again he struggled, which made his enemy hiss, not with anger, but in nameless craving.

"Keep this up, Kirk, and we won't even make it to the bed."

"Goddamn it, have you lost your bloody mind?" Jim yelled. "I certainly will not…"

Khan didn't let him finish. In the next second he was on his feet and dragged the captain with him. Instantly Kirk yanked up his knee to hit him where it would hurt the most, but the super-human was too quick and avoided Kirk's attack. "Tsk-tsk, Captain, I call that bad form," Khan taunted with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Then he lifted his captive and simply tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Jim thrashed around, kicked, landed some sharp blows to the super-human's back – and received a slap on his butt as though he were a disobedient child. "Fuck you!" he screamed.

"Language, Captain, unless you mean it literally," Khan scoffed. "If so, I will consider your offer – after I've had my turn, of course."

Anger and fright threatened to overcome Jim again. "Don't you dare…" Kirk's outburst was stopped as he was hurled onto his bed, landing between the blankets and the pillows with a huff. Before he could even start to sit up, Khan sat on him again and stripped out of his shirt, ignoring the punches Jim landed on every part of his body that he could reach.

Rain began to pelt against the windows as the skies opened and the thunderstorm finally broke loose, mirroring the turmoil Kirk was going through, as he found himself in a position that was suddenly far more bizarre than it had been before. The flashing lightning made Khan's sinewy torso shine like alabaster, the muscles of his arms flexed as he caught Jim's wrists again, and tied them to the headboard with the sleeves of his shirt, leaving the young man nearly helpless.

For several moments Kirk couldn't conceive of what was happening to him. Here he was, tied to his own bed with his most deadly and – god alone knew why – very horny nemesis upon him, who wasn't wasting any time in claiming his prey. Jim's breath caught in his throat as Khan's long, warm hands spread open on his chest and began to roam almost softly over his upper body. And to Jim's utter horror, heat began seeping into his skin wherever the Augment touched him, leaving tingling trails which found their way to the pit of his stomach. A further gasp escaped his lips as the super-human ground his groin against Jim's, eliciting a wave of unwelcome yearning in the depth of his body.

That was just wrong!

That was so completely and entirely wrong!

"Stop it!" he groaned, pleading to all higher beings of the whole universe to save him – not from his enemy, no; but from the flaring, crazy desire that clearly had lurked on the edge of his consciousness for some time.

"I have not even begun – not really," the former dictator murmured, encircling Jim's nipples with skilled thumbs, eliciting a low moan from his captive. He saw the fear in the striking blue eyes of the young Starfleet officer, but guessed rightly that it was the fear of his own body's responses; Kirk was already hard and the enlarged pupils and the soft tremors gave him away. The captain's mind could fight all it wanted, but his body spoke another language.

Jim gulped as he registered the lustful gleam in the Augment's gaze and moistened his lips, a gesture that truly tested Khan's control. "I thought you wanted to kill me," Kirk whispered, asking himself how it was even possible that their deadly fight had changed into an erotic battle.

A slow, predatory smile curved the succulent lips of the man who was about to ravish him. "And I will," the super-human replied quietly, his voice lowered to a sinfully deep purr. He bent down and Jim gasped anew as their bare chests finally made contact – warm, tense, and delicious. Bracing his weight on one forearm beside Jim's head, the Augment's fingers slipped into the blond strands, no longer brutal but almost gentle. "I will kill you, Captain, over and over again," Khan stated, brushing his mouth over that of the younger man, while the fingers of his free hand cupped his hip. "Tell me James Kirk, are you familiar with the French phrase 'petite mort'?"

TBC…

Well, even a brilliant super-human can go astray and fall prey to his own suppressed wishes. Maybe this could be a reprieve to our captain, but – on the other hand – Khan is no one you can deal with easily. There remains so much between them, but desire and passion left no room for clear thoughts.

In the next chapter you will learn what happened to Khan in the past year, how it comes that he is even awake and where he escaped from. And – I promise – you are going to need some cold refreshing drinks, because the Augment doesn't make empty threats. He didn't mention 'petite mort' for nothing and the whole thing will be HOT!

I so hope you liked the first chapter and I am more than curious what you're thinking, so please, please give some feedback.

I'll try to publish the installments on a regular basis.

Have a nice week,

Long life and peace.

Yours, Starflight