Hello,

First off, this is my first attempt at a Star Trek fanfic. I have watched the original series/movies as well as the JJ Abrams films; I am fan, but I'm no expert nor do I claim to be.

This is an introductory chapter to get the ball rolling, but the story will grow in the next chapter. Please let me know what you think. This is something new and different for me and I hope you enjoy.

Much love and many thanks

Chapter 1: A Grief That Can't be spoken

"I can't permit you unless with direct orders from the admiral."

"I don't need permission from the admiral, I have clearance."

"Still, I can't allow you to go in there alone."

"You forget who your talking to. I'll be fine."

"Is that so?"

"It is so. Let me in."

The hallway echoed with the sound of their voices. It was the middle of the night; after all, everyone else was asleep. No one was around except them, but that didn't mean they weren't being watched. This room was under 24-hour surveillance and a guard was always on stand outside the doors. No one got in without clearance and no one dared to enter alone; no one except for her.

She knew what was inside and wasn't afraid like the rest of the crew.

She wasn't threatened.

"Cadet, you have about 5 seconds to open those doors or I will have to file a report stating that you were reluctant to comply with direct orders from your superior officer."

"You're not in charge on this mission, Commander; the admiral made that very clear. As long as we are all aboard this ship, we answer directly to the admiral."

"Then who do think I received my clearance from? I suggest you drop the attitude, Cadet, and open those doors. That is an order."

Reluctantly, the guard punched in a six-digit code into the keypad beside him. The large silver doors hissed and slid open to reveal the grey bedroom within. With an affirmative nod, she pushed past the guard and entered.

"Give me 15 minutes." She instructed.

"And if something goes wrong?" the cadet asked.

"Then I'll handle it. 15 minutes."

"You don't know what he's capable of."

"Except I do. 15 minutes."

The doors slid shut again and she was alone in the cold, grey room. Alone with the man who had been laying in a comatose state for the past three days in this room that everyone on board was so terrified to enter.

They were scared of him: where he came from, what he could do, why they had found him.

No one truly knew what he was capable of; no one except for her.

Adjusting the straps of her black fitted tank top, she walked over the side of the bed and checked over all of the bright flashing screens that monitored his vitals. 'Breathing is normal,' she mentally noted, 'Heart rate, stable. Body is returning to natural sate. He's alive and well, just not awake.' Her eyes shifted their gaze to the still form in the bed. Carefully, she took a seat on the ledge of the bed and placed a warm hand atop one of his ice cold ones.

He was so deep in his sleep and pale that one might have mistaken him for a corpse. His large muscular arms were draped at his sides, relaxed and limp. The blankets he lay under were pulled up only to his waist, keeping his bare chest visible. Strands of his jet-black hair hung down in his face and she cautiously stroked them back so that she could take in every distinct detail of his sharp features.

"You look the same." She whispered, grazing her free hand down his neck until it came to rest on his rock hard chest. She could feel his heart beat beneath her palm and she vainly hoped that he would open his eyes; those piercing cold eyes that she never forgot after all these years. She closed her eyes and allowed those memories of long ago fill her mind; back when she was not apart of Starfleet and she was her own unique woman.

It was the time when she was part of a much bigger and fiercer organization.

It was the time when she was a warrior, not some admiral's stooge.

It was the time when the man who now lay beside her, was her captain.

One of the monitors began to beep loudly causing her to shoot her eyes open and dismiss her thoughts. She stood up straight and examined the monitors, her mind working a hundred times faster than the normal human rate. All of their readings added up to a single solution; he was waking up. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she turned back around to lean over him, guaranteeing that the first face he'll see will be hers.

"Can you hear me?" she said, but there was no response. She looked back at the monitors to double check that she was reading them correctly and then back at him. Not giving the idea a second thought, she gripped onto his massive biceps and shook him slightly: "Captain, wake up."

.

That was when his eyes shot open.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was immediately cut off when his hands flung up and grabbed onto her wrists. He tossed her hands off of him then shoved her back with as much force as he could muster. She stumbled back, nearly crashing into the monitors, but didn't have time to steady herself or reciprocate his action. He had bounded out of the bed, ripping off the various wires attached to his chest and arms and clutched his hands around her neck.

Immediately feeling his grip becoming more powerful by the moment, she gripped onto his wrists and attempted to pull him away. He only tightened his hold and pinned her against the wall, glaring into her eyes. His gaze was harsh and chilling, as if he were possessed by some darker power. She remembered that look. It was the one he always had when he was in battle, the look of someone who was not afraid to kill.

The room started to spin and the lights began to blur. She could hear her own gasps for breath along with his deep heavy breathing. She kneed him in the chest, which distracted him enough to release her neck from his clutches. She fell to her knees gasping for air, but suddenly screamed as she felt him pull her back up by her hair.

He growled and slammed her against the wall again. A blow like that would have knocked anyone unconscious, but she was not anyone. She merely moaned in pain and steadied herself against the wall. He gripped the sides of her head and started to squeeze as if she were no more than an ant that could so easily be mashed into a bloody pulp. Despite her best attempts to pull him away, it was all too painful for her to fight back. All she could do was scream: scream for help, scream for one last chance at stopping him.

"KHAN!"

The pain stopped as he immediately ceased his attack. Her weary eyes met with his as he stared at her in shock and bewilderment. Feeling slightly out of danger, she let out a deep sigh of relief; he recognized her. His hands slipped down her face and rested firmly on her shoulders to hold her upright as she began to sink down to the floor. "Khan." She breathed out again, trying not to give in to her sudden feeling of fatigue.

He was about to speak, but then the doors slid open. A group of officers practically tackled him and dragged him back toward the bed. She gave in to her exhaustion and sunk down to her knees. A pair of hands cradled her shoulders, but her gaze was fixed on him. His eyes locked with hers and she could see the realization come across his face.

"Aree-ah." He moaned, his voice weak and slurred, "Are…Rhi...Aria!" He shoved a few men aside and attempted to get back to her, but his full strength hadn't returned to him yet; "Aria!"

She reached a shaky hand out to him and their fingers grazed each other's before she was pulled back by whomever was holding her upright.

"Sedate him," a loud commanding voice called out.

"No," she attempted to shout, "Don't…don't hurt him. Please." But it was of no use. She could only look on as one man stuck a hypodermic needle into the side of her captain's neck. "Khan." She called out just as he went limp in his handlers' arms, his head hanging low against his chest.

"I should've known you'd try and see him." That same commanding voice from before mocks from somewhere beside her, "Well, take a good hard look, miss, because this is the last time you'll see your precious captain. Your part in this mission is over and might I say that you completed your task beautifully. Put her back in her cell."

She attempted to speak, but exhaustion quickly over took her. Everything went black.

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Aria Morrow awoke with a start: her eyes wide and her breathing heavy and quick. Sitting up straight, she ran her hands over her face, which was damp with sweat. Her heart was pounding and the room seemed to be spinning. It's because of that dream, a memory actually. It was an exact replay of the mission that changed her life; the mission that separated her from those who matter most. It all happened a little over a year ago, but she still felt his strong hands around her neck and then the look of realization in his eyes as he let her go. His voice, although weak at the time, still echoed through her mind:

"Aria."

"Khan," she whispered into the empty air, half-heartedly hoping she'd receive a reply. As expected, though, there was none.

Shaken by this all too real playback, she kicked off the blankets, climbed out of her king sized bed and silently made her way to the bathroom. The digital clock mounted on her wall read 5:30am; too early for any normal being to be awake. But she didn't feel tired; the adrenaline from her nightmare had awoken her fully and it wasn't going to die down any time soon. Aria adjusted the straps of her grey sports bra as she flicked on the bathroom light and closed the door behind her.

She lived alone, which was how she preferred it. It's not that she's anti-social, but rather just standoffish around her fellow Star Fleet colleagues. It's not on purpose, it's just how she was made: Cold, separate, an individual above the rest whose sole purpose was set before her from day one. Genetically, she was crafted to be better than the average human being and, as a result, she simply didn't connect with anyone. There was no one else like her.

No one except for him: her captain, her Khan.

His voice continued to echo through her mind even as she gently splashed cold water on her face. Aria gazed at her reflection in the mirror, slowly combing her hands through her jet black, silky hair that draped around her shoulders. Every day she thought about that day and the altered course it had put her life on. True, she had gained a high standing rank in Starfleet in a mere year, faster then any recruit in history, and her specific skill set was not being wasted. However, this was all gained at an all too personal cost. She had lost her family and more importantly, she lost him: The man she had grown to respect and admire not only as a fellow warrior but on a sentimental level as well.

Khan was gone and it was her fault.

Feeling the guilt pump through her veins, Aria closed her eyes and tightly gripped the edges of the obsidian sink. She wanted to forget but those eyes wouldn't let her. Those cold, piercing eyes still glared into her very soul even after all this time. She couldn't forget that look of panic in her captain's eyes as he realized what had happened: He had been awoken and so had she. The captain and his always-loyal first officer, reunited after so many years in deep, dreamless sleep. However, their reunion was short lived and in vain. They were separated: he taken to some secret location so that his knowledge of advance weaponry and combat could be put to some dark use. They were never to see each other again and Aria had every right in the world to believe that he had been disposed of once Marcus was done with him.

Deep down, Aria wished Admiral Marcus had never found them. She wished she wasn't awoken first. Above all, she wished she had never agreed to awaken her captain from his long sleep. If it weren't for her, he as well as their whole crew would be safe, not abused for the greedy Admiral's needs. They would have been left alone which in short was all that she had ever wanted.

No one was supposed to disrupt them. They were supposed to be kept safe.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

"Rhi?" a soft, comforting voice said from behind her. Aria relaxed her body just as two sturdy arms gently wrapped around her bare abdomen. She let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the warm, muscular body behind her, nuzzling her forehead into the crook of her comforter's neck.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered, entangling her fingers with the one's clasped over her belly button.

A soft pair of lips placed a kiss on her forehead: "Was it another nightmare?"

"…Yes," She reluctantly replied, "but it's nothing."

"Obviously it wasn't. Every night this week you've been waking up like this; is it the same dream?"

"Let's not talk about this," she whispered, turning around to gaze into those perfect, crystalline blue eyes, "It's our last night together, I don't want to ruin it." Aria placed her hands atop his bare chest and leaned in close that her forehead was touching his. Their lips met for a soft kiss that quickly deepened and in moments, her past had melted back into the deepest reaches of her mind.

"Come back to bed, Aria." He whispered, gently tucking a few silky strands of hair back behind her ears, "Please."

A small, yet wicked, grin grew across her face: "Why Mr. Kirk, I do believe you just begged?" she teased, slowly sliding her hands down his chest. Their lips locked again this time wrapping their arms around one another as they blindly made their way back to bed.

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The shipyard was all a bustle with various Starfleet officers running about, trying to reach their appropriate crews and making the orders they had received were in fact correct. Aria wasn't phased by all the commotion as she walked through it all: chaos was comforting to her, it's when things were eerily calm that worried her. She stuck out in the crowd though, but not on purpose. All eyes were on her because she wasn't in her proper uniform (a blue skin tight dress and black combat boots) but also because of who was walking beside her: her partner, the infamous Captain of the USS Enterprise, James T. Kirk.

Partner seemed to be the appropriate term to use: They didn't see each other enough to be considered a couple. They weren't in love and so they could not be considered to be in a committed relationship. God knows that the day Jim Kirk settles down in a relationship is the very day the world will end. Aria was well aware of Jim's reputation with woman but she didn't care. She wasn't looking for a serious relationship and Jim had a certain something about him that just fascinated her. He wasn't like the other men she had encountered at Starfleet: Jim wasn't looking for power or control. He followed his own path and followed his instinct. He'd never have her heart fully, but he always seemed to hold her interest.

"You sure you don't want to talk about last night?" he asked as they walked in step of one another.

"No matter how many times or how many ways you ask me, Jim, the answer is still going to be 'no, I don't want to talk about it'." she replied, adjusting her black hair into a high ponytail, "I'm fine."

"Alright, I'm not going to argue with you on the topic," Jim replied with a cocky tone to his voice, "It's not like I'm worried about you or anything."

"Oh please," she scoffed, "since when did you start worrying about the women you sleep with?"

"Contrary to popular belief, Commander Morrow, I'm not some kind of arrogant pig." He replied, "If I was, then why did I fly all the way out to London to be with you before my mission, hmm?"

"You had to pick up the correct supplies from this outpost before you and your crew headed out. Don't try to make a simple pit stop about me." With a chuckle, Jim smirked at her and nonchalantly slipped his hand into hers. Aria looked at there intertwined fingers and then up at him: "Public display of affection. That's new for you, Jim. I must be something special."

"You are," he whispered before kissing the top of her head, "You're not like everyone else, Rhi. You're…different."

'More than you know.' She thought to herself as they continued to walk. She never told Jim about her past or who she really was and how she came to be a member of Starfleet. No one needed to know that story; it's irrelevant now. Aria kept her past and all of the emotion that came with it locked away in her mind and she trusted no one else with it. Not even the great Captain Kirk.

"Well, this is me," He said as they reached a grey shuttle. Taking both her hands into his, Jim turned Aria to face him and gazed deeply into her almond eyes: "I wish I didn't have to go."

"Liar," Aria teased, giving him a half-mouth smirk, "You, more than any other captain, love these sort of missions: running off to research some obscure planet in the far reaches of space."

"Yeah, but have you read up on this planet?" Jim asked, sounding rather annoyed, "The inhabitants have barely even discovered the concept of how to make fire. Nibiru is going to be a bore, I assure you."

"Think of it as a stepping stone. Complete this and the Enterprise as well as her crew may be the top pick for that 5-year mission."

"It better be; I didn't sign up just to babysit a primitive race."

"No, you signed up to get girls and look cool while you fly around the galaxy in a shiny spaceship."

Accustomed to her dry sarcasm, Jim rolled his eyes and placed a soft kiss on Aria's forehead. He held it there for a few extra minutes and gently rubbed his hands up and down her arms. Aria just closed her eyes and gave off a content sigh as she rested her hands on his chest.

"I'm going to miss you," he whispered.

"No you won't," she replied, "You'll find someone else and forget all about me; such is your way, Jim."

"I'm glad you hold me in such a high regard, commander." The two looked at one another and exchanged a soft kiss on the lips.

"Captain, the shuttle is prepared to launch." A monotone interrupts them. They both turn to see Jim's first officer, Spock, anxiously waiting to board the shuttle…well, if you could call a Vulcan anxious.

"Spock, we've really got to work your timing." Jim said with a roll of his eyes. He then turned his attention back to Aria: "Don't be bored without me."
"Wouldn't dream of it," she replied, placing another peck on his cheek just in spite of the impatient Vulcan. She didn't like Spock and she was absolutely certain that the feeling was mutual. Although she couldn't prove it, Aria was certain that this Mr. Spock knew whom she really was. Vulcans have that sort of mind where they could read a persons life story in a matter of minutes. He always looked at her as if she were a potential threat and, on occasion, voiced that he didn't trust her. Jim informed her of this, but she could care less. She wasn't created to gain trust and friendship with others. However, she did take every chance she got to annoy Spock just because she found some form of joy in it. Cruel? Yes, but that was who she was.

Exchanging another quick kiss with Jim, Aria slowly backed away and watched as the captain of the Enterprise exchanged a few words with his first officer and then boarded the shuttle. Spock gave her an uncertain look, to which she simply replied with a small wave, before he entered the shuttle as well. Quite proud with herself, Aria stuffed her hands in her coat pockets, turned on her heel then exited out of the shuttle bay.

Normally, she would be heading to work, but today was her day off-a rarity when your Starfleet's top advance weapons designer. The bright afternoon sun forced its way through the thick London clouds up above. Skyscrapers and other various buildings glistened in the light while the sidewalks were full of people heading to and from work. Despite the amount of people out in public, Aria was able to lock herself away in the world of her mind. She headed back toward her apartment in a hurry, intending to make the most of her one day of freedom: work out for a bit, finish some designs, maybe even catch up on some sleep.

The nightmares of her past have kept her from getting a full nights rest, but she was never off her game. Unlike a standard human being, Aria's body didn't need the regular 8 hours of sleep to function. All she needed was to be focused and on edge, which was how she always was even if no one could tell. That was a skill he taught her to perfect.

He.

Khan.

No matter how hard she tried, she could get that nightmare out of her head: what she'd done, how he looked at her before they were separated, the sound of his weak voice before he was knocked unconscious. Above all, though, she couldn't forget his eyes. That always was her favorite quality about his features; the way he looked at her.

A small smile grew across Aria's face as more delightful memories passed through her mind. She thought back to the time when she was Khan's partner in both combat as well as on a sensual level. He had stolen her heart all those years ago and he never gave it back. Even after accepting the fact that Khan was gone forever, Aria's heart still belonged to him. He was the only one who could have it, always and forever.

"Commander Morrow! Commander!" a voice calling her name broke Aria from her thoughts. She recognized it, but at the moment she couldn't place a name with it. She stopped in her fast paced steps and looked over her shoulder just in time to see a tall, dark skinned officer, dressed in the standard grey uniform, stop behind her.

"Commander Morrow!" he exclaimed, suddenly snapping up in

"Ah, Mr. Harewood," she said, facing her now panting technician, "at ease, please. Take a moment to catch your breath."

"Thank you, miss." He sighed, leaning forward slightly and setting his hands on his knees.

Aria rolled her eyes; it would be just her luck that work found her on her day off. "What a surprise to see you." She said, "I believe I left quite a bit of work for you to complete by the time I return tomorrow morning."

"I'm sorry…miss…" Harewood replied, straitening back up, "I've only just come from there. A message came in for you."

"And you couldn't just reach me on my communicator because…" she asked, rather annoyed that an officer had to track her down just to deliver a message.

"It's from Admiral Marcus, Commander." He said, "Said it was urgent and that I had to deliver it to you in person. He also said that you'd be near the shuttle bay, seeing that you and Captain Kirk are, well, close."

A surge of anger filled her veins at the sound of that name: Admiral Marcus. The man who woke her up, who forced her to wake Khan, who took her captain and crew away from her. Aria clenched her fists in her pockets and took in a deep thoughtful breath: She hated him more than she could possibly express in words. He ruined her life and now kept her under his thumb like a prisoner of war, a consolation prize for discovering her crew and exploiting their specialized skills. He could have killed her, but he did something worse: He kept her alive with the memories of the part she had played in destroying Khan.

"What did he say?" Aria asked in a dark monotone that took Harewood by surprise, "What was so important that Marcus felt the need to disturb me on my one day off?"

"I-I am sorry, Commander," Harewood replied, sounding a tad afraid, "but he said that it was a matter of major importance. He's sent over a new science officer, Commander. The admiral said that the recruit would be on as your new assistant."

"Are you telling me that Admiral Marcus assigned a new recruit to my team, without consenting me first, and then proceeded to assume that this stranger would be accepted as my assistant?" she hissed, "Absolutely not."

"But, Commander…"

"No 'buts', Harewood. I take my work very seriously and Marcus cannot interfere with my process. He gets the results he wants, so why is he trying to change things now?"

"I…I don't know."

"Doesn't matter." Aria immediately snapped into her commanding ways, using her anger to fuel her ambition, "Where is this recruit?"
"At base, Commander," Harewood replied, "He arrived this morning along with a few of Marcus' men; they delivered the Admiral's message, escorted the recruit to the basement lab, then left."

"Just what I need; an amateur left unattended in my personal work station." Aria cursed, "Do you have transport, Harewood?"

"Yes."

"Good. Take me to base; I feel it is my duty to deliver this recruit's dismissal orders personally."

Harewood gave her an affirmative nod then quickly lead her to his transport. Aria was fighting an internal battle of anger: If there was any privacy she maintained from Marcus, it was in her work. Him sending over some random, most likely unqualified, science officer to 'assist' her was over stepping his bounds. She worked alone; simple as that.

"If I may, Commander," Harewood said with some caution, "the recruit isn't an ametur. He's a commanding officer."

"Is that so?" Aria asked with an icy sting to her voice

"According to his transcript, he has excelled in both hand to hand combat as well as weapons technology. Brains and brawn, isn't that what you look for in recruits, Commander?"

"Yes, Harewood, but I also prefer to interview and screen the recruits myself. Forgive me if I'm not so immediate to trust Marcus' decision to bring this man aboard."

"You told me never to question your ways, Commander."

"Good. Now, tell me; you've looked over this man's transcripts?"
"Yes."

"Give me a name; I want to research as much as I before we arrive at base."

"Harrison. Commander John Harrison."