Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of its characters. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.
I saw greatness in you.
You think the rules are for other people.
I had every reason to suspect that Marcus had killed every single one of the people I hold most dear.
"Their weapons are powered down, sir."
Sulu's voice broke the silence, Kirk's gaze torn from the eyes of his crew as he stared at the blank screen, gaping in disbelief.
That's impossible.
Before he could do no more than mentally cite half a hundred reasons why they should not even be alive, his communicator beeped.
"Enterprise." Air rushed back into Kirk's lungs as he stared, bright points of debris filling the black emptiness of space. "Can you hear me?" the same voice whispered, hushed and alert. Kirk's mouth dropped open, bewilderment coloring his features as a grin slowly spread across his lips.
"Scotty?" he asked.
"Guess what I found behind Jupiter?" Scotty beamed.
Regaining his bearings as he pieced two and two together, Kirk added in disbelieving ecstasy, "You're on that ship!"
"Aye, and I'd really like to get off it and return to the Enterprise now, seeing as I've just committed an act of treason against a Starfleet admiral," Scotty bit out.
I can't get you back now, Scotty, but I can ensure that you don't get blown to pieces. "You're a miracle worker, Scotty," he breathed, relief and laughter in his voice – impeccable timing. Shaking his head apologetically, he blinked rapidly, licking his lips in an attempt to find a better explanation of events. "We're – we're a little low on power, Scotty, our transporter capabilities have been knocked out, just stand by – stand by for now," he ordered, stammering in his relief, conscious of Spock's rigid stance not a dozen yards away.
Meeting his gaze, Kirk let some of the tension seep out of his shoulders. We're alive.
Cool, implacable eyes locked onto his, somehow congratulatory and contemplative at once: Well-played, Captain.
It wasn't me, Spock, Kirk thought, but he did not have time to say that it had been Khan's fault before the truth sunk in.
Khan was right.
If the ship had been behind Jupiter, then Khan had been telling the truth all along: he had wanted nothing more than to spare his crew from certain devastation. Their own devastation was seen as secondary: they were pawns in his game, freely disposed of as was seen fit. If Marcus had ensconced Khan deeply enough into Starfleet ranks to design this, then it was impossible to predict how far the conspiracy led.
There's no one I can trust.
The realization was chilling.
It had been close – too close – and the surge of adrenaline had yet to wear off as Scotty's communicator blinked out with a sudden, "I'll call you back!"
"Scotty?" Kirk tried, making a soft, frustrated sound in the back of his throat before turning his attention to the present. "Uhura, when you get Scotty back, patch him through," he ordered, heart racing as a dozen possibilities flashed through his mind.
Option one – surrender, option two – engage, option three – retreat, option four – reinforcement, option five – tactical avoidance, option six – strategic disarmament, option seven – persuasion, option eight – infiltration.
His mind latched onto the word before his thoughts had fully caught up with it, logic left to the wind as he hurried across the bridge, knowing how precious their time was. They teetered on the balance between secure and volatile: any slight movement could tip their hand back in Marcus' favor. "Our ship, how is she?" he asked, coming to a halt in front of him, knowing in his heart-of-hearts that he had no miracles to give.
Spock met his gaze, a thousand unspoken words passing between them – chiefly among them Captain, you cannot do this – before he quipped, "Our options are limited, Captain. We cannot fight and we cannot flee."
"Noted," Kirk said aloud, heart heavy in his chest. Marcus' ship was down, but he knew that Marcus' engineers were already working frantically to restore it to full power. Once that happened, there would be no stopping the destruction of the Enterprise.
He needed to move quickly. He needed to move now.
Mouth suddenly dry with the realization that what he needed to do was disable Marcus' ship from within, Kirk hurried to the turbolift, hoping to escape the bridge crew's resistance by sheer momentum. It worked – none of them glanced up from their paralyzed relief to persuade him, already returning to their duties. There was little that they could do, but it heartened Kirk to know that they would not abandon the ship. Do what you can, he ordered silently, passing beyond the doors and almost flinching when Spock slid smoothly in beside him.
"Captain, I strongly protest," Spock said at once, his gaze serious but his words trembling on the edge of something more. Fear? Remorse? Anger? Kirk could not tell, but he forced himself not to respond to it, steeling his own voice against the emotional deluge that threatened to capsize him.
"To what, Spock? I haven't said anything," he retorted edgily, knowing that his gaze betrayed him.
"Since we cannot take the ship from the outside, the only way that we can take it is from within," Spock began, building steam as the turbolift descended, taking no offense from Kirk's unyielding expression. If anything, it emboldened him more. "And as a large boarding party would be detected, it is optimum for you to take as few crew members as possible," he deduced, emerging from the turbolift at Kirk's side.
"You will meet resistance requiring personnel with advanced combat abilities and innate knowledge of that ship," Spock continued, every word forcing Kirk to understand the futility of his mission.
He'll kill you, you know that.
Your survival is unlikely.
It was strange, having Spock speak against him once more. Strange and disconcerting.
Ignoring his discomfort – or perhaps utterly oblivious to it – Spock finished, "This indicates that you plan to align with Khan, the very man we were sent here to destroy."
Captain, we gain nothing by diplomacy.
I, too, agree; you should rethink your strategy.
I understand that.
Pike's voice came to him, then, calm and resigned, an edge of fear that Kirk had not noticed before perforating his senses. My dissertation was on the USS Kelvin.
Pike had known exactly what fate he had been walking into when he had chosen to board the Narada for 'negotiations.' He had read the demise of Captain Robaneau and chosen to proceed, regardless, knowing that his ship was endangered and someone needed to be the captain and protect them, even at the potential cost of his own life. Even if it did nothing more than confirm their worst fears – about Nero, about Marcus, about Khan – it remained their only option.
I have to get on that ship.
The knowledge buoyed Kirk, giving him the strength – and the resolve – to resist Spock. I don't want to deny you. I want to live. But I cannot let them die.
"I'm not aligning with him," Kirk said, infusing every bit of steel into his voice as he walked down the corridor, wondering morbidly if he would ever have the opportunity to do so again. I didn't even say good-bye, he thought, feeling a quiet pang of remorse building in his chest, an empty echo of triumph hollowing to fear. Forcing himself not to dwell on it, he added, "I'm using him. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"An Arabic proverb attributed to a prince who was betrayed and decapitated by his own subjects," Spock quipped sharply, unimpressed.
Rather than rising to the challenge, Kirk found that he had lost all motivation to fight with Spock, knowing that Spock's edginess was nothing more than a product of his fear.
"Still, it's a hell of a quote," he insisted aloud, knowing how naïve, how blatantly unaffected he sounded.
"I will go with you, Captain."
The offer lingered in the air, and for one breathless moment Kirk wanted to turn to him and accept his proposition. Spock's warm solidarity at his side – almost palpable through the uniforms as they moved quickly through the ship, not a second to spare for discussion – was difficult to resist. The irrefutable plea in his voice was even harder. Yet he knew that he could not afford to endanger Spock again – not this time. Not when he knew what the outcome would likely be.
They need you, Spock.
"No, I need you on the bridge," was all he said, already turning to vanish down another corridor, hoping to escape Spock's urgency, Spock's resistance by sheer power of will.
Spock's hand fell on his shoulder, wheeling him around, and Kirk was forced to meet his gaze as Spock said, voice rising in his severity, "I cannot allow you to do this."
I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Spock, Kirk thought, but he let him speak.
"It is my function aboard this ship to advise you on making the wisest decisions possible, something I firmly believe you are incapable of doing in this moment."
Kirk could almost hear the furthermore in Spock's voice before he spoke, ruthlessly denying him the opportunity to continue with his tirade.
"You're right!" Spock stared at him, doubtless ready to retort that Kirk should then defer his leadership decisions to Spock while he found a more suitable alternative, but Kirk already knew that there were no alternatives and he could not allow Spock to sway him. "What I'm about to do – it doesn't make any sense, it's not logical, it is a gut feeling."
He waited – waited for what felt like half a lifetime for Spock to respond – but Spock was at a loss for words, now, and Kirk knew that behind his speechlessness, pain lurked.
"I have no idea what I'm supposed to do," Kirk admitted, latching onto Spock's unshielded receptivity to let go of the terror and anger and frustration plaguing him. "I only know what I can do. The Enterprise and her crew needs someone in that chair who knows what he's doing." Looking at Spock seriously, letting him know how sorry he was that it had come to this, he said, "And it's not me. It's you, Spock."
He left him without another word, not daring to say good-bye.
.o.
Every ache that Kirk had been surreptitiously avoiding seemed to come back full force as he came to a halt in front of Khan in Med Bay. His cool, detached serenity appeared at odds with the ship's utter susceptibility to attack: Kirk knew that he had already drawn the conclusions in his mind about what their next course of action needed to be.
You might know what I'm planning, Kirk thought, but I won't let you win.
Straightening his shoulders and willing his resolve to stay steady, he ordered, "Tell me everything you know about that ship."
Khan's head twitched fractionally to one side, cool contemplation flashing across his eyes. Mechanically, he responded, "Dreadnought-class, two times the size, three times the speed. Advanced weaponry, modified for a minimal crew. Unlike most Federation vessels, it's built solely for combat."
Refusing to let his own doubts incapacitate him – Spock's hurt expression still lingered in his mind, pain and remorse mingling – Kirk said heavily, "I will do everything I can to make you answer for what you did."
Khan did not flinch. Kirk had not expected him to.
"But right now I need your help," Kirk admitted huskily, hating himself for it.
"In exchange for what?"
Kirk met his gaze, knowing that they shared one commonality in this universe, one source of humanity that he could draw upon: "You said you'd do anything for your crew." Pushing every ounce of authority he had into the words, Kirk finished, "I can guarantee their safety."
Khan laughed, a soft, mirthless sound. "Captain," he crooned, chiding, gently accusatory, "you can't even guarantee the safety of your own crew."
Kirk did not respond, refusing to rise to the bait. You're right. But if Marcus gets control of his ship again before we do, we're all doomed.
Defeat morphed into distraction as he noticed Bones injecting a small furry mass with blood. "Bones, what are you doing with that tribble?"
"The tribble's dead," Bones replied. "I'm injecting Khan's platelets into the deceased tissue of the necrotic host. Khan's cells regenerate like nothing I've ever seen and I wanna know why."
Kirk stared at him for a moment longer, dazed, before returning to Khan, knowing that he did not have time to waste.
Slowly, carefully, he asked, "You coming with me or not?"
Khan did not deign to reply, sliding off the edge of the bio-bed coolly, his security detail arranging themselves comfortably around him.
"If we space-jumped –"
"Port holes in the cargo bay," Khan replied.
Relief made Kirk's shoulders slouch, a barely perceptible gesture. He had hoped that the Vengeance's design would allow for such a maneuver – shuttle craft would take too long, and they could not beam aboard the Vengeance – but he had not dared to presume.
Still, he felt far more dread than relief as he led the small party down the hallway, already opening his communicator and ordering brusquely, "Sulu, do you copy?"
"Loud and clear, sir."
"I need you to align the ships."
A pause, then, surprised: "At once, sir."
"Uhura, how's that contact?"
"We have him," was all Uhura said, seconds before Scotty's voice fizzled into life.
"Cap'n, you are no' gonna like this – " Scotty began.
"We're on our way," Kirk interjected calmly, refusing to be deterred by the fear in Scotty's voice. I've made my decision. I'll stand by it. "Our transporters are down so we won't be able to beam aboard the Vengeance. Our transporter abilities are down, so we can't beam aboard, but we can space-jump."
"You want to do what?" Scotty repeated, aghast.
Kirk rounded a corner with Khan and his guards in tow, repeating, "We're coming over there. Sulu's maneuvering the Enterprise into position as we speak."
"You want to come over to this ship? How?" Scotty demanded.
"There's a cargo door, hangar seven, access port one-zero-one-A. You need to find the manual override to open the airlock," Khan explained, brisk but authoritative.
Predictably, Scotty protested, "Are you crazy?!" A moment later, he added a little more sheepishly, "Whoever you are."
"Just listen to him, Scotty," Kirk ordered, knowing that the equations barely matched up – port holes were small on any ship, and the Vengeance's were virtually invisible from their perspective – but also aware that they had no other means. "It's gonna be all right," he added, hoping to reassure him. I shouldn't be putting you in danger. I shouldn't be putting anyone in danger. But I can't help it if I want to save you.
"It is not gonna be all right," Scotty retorted firmly, refusing to be placated so easily. "You want me to open an airlock into space, whereupon I will freeze, die, and explode!"
Kirk sighed slightly, exasperation lacing his voice as he said, "Anchor yourself at a safe distance from the port hole. It won't be open for long, Scotty."
Scotty did not respond at once, giving Kirk time to lead the group into the trash chute, where a long row of space suits had been arranged along the wall. Kirk donned one quickly, dense, skin-tight material sliding on with surprising ease before melding to fit snugly against his uniform. Khan did the same across from him, snapping his helmet into place and approaching the ladder while the officers Kirk had assigned to him hovered uncertainly, weapons raised.
"At ease," he told them, snapping his own helmet into place. The officers melted back several steps, watching him with quiet deference. "Thank you," he added, before turning to the ladder and climbing down.
The impact on the cold steel was jarring, but he ignored it as Khan fell into place beside him, rising smoothly as Kirk asked, "Scotty, how are we doing over there?"
"I wish I had better news, Captain," Scotty admitted, voices still hushed. Kirk did not know how many crew members were on board the Vengeance, but he did know that Scotty was right to assume that they could be anywhere. The last thing Kirk needed was for his one and only mole to be compromised. "They blocked our access to the ship's computer. They'll have full weapons in three minutes. That means next time I won't be able to stop them from destroying the Enterprise. Standby."
Before Kirk could respond, Spock's voice came over the line, cool and clinical: "Captain, the ships are aligned."
Resisting the sickening awareness that they only had one shot to get everything right, Kirk replied, "Copy that. Scotty?"
"I'm in the hangar," Scotty said, voice rasping on the edge of a pant as he added, "Give me a minute."
Kirk waited, listening to Scotty's heavy breathing as he explained unnecessarily, "I'm running! Standby."
Khan was watching him, Kirk noticed, suddenly, keenly aware of his gaze, amusement and impatience mingling in his expression.
At last, Scotty panted, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Cap. I don't know about this. This door is very wee. I mean, small. It's four square meters tops. It's gonna be like . . . jumping out of a moving car, off a bridge, into a shot glass."
Attempting to reassure him almost backfired. "It's okay, I've done it before," he said.
Khan stared at him, a new expression – profound disbelief – crossing his face.
"Yeah, it was vertical. We jumped onto a – uh – it doesn't matter. Scotty," he said instead, redirecting his attention once more, refusing to allow nerves to overcome him.
"Did you find the manual override?" Khan asked, cutting him off.
"The manual override, Scotty?" Kirk intercepted, refusing to be bested.
"Not yet, not yet!" Scotty panted, once more on the move as Kirk waited, resisting the urge to put his back to a wall and watch Khan as intently as he was watching Kirk.
"Captain, before you launch, you should be aware that there is a considerable debris field between our ships," Spock reminded, his usual knack for catching onto all of Kirk's inconsistencies – and, secretly, fears – adding to his restlessness.
"Spock, not now," was all he said, returning his attention to Scotty as Khan continued to watch him, waiting, waiting, waiting. "Scotty, are you good?"
Scotty sounded almost as impatient as Kirk felt as he said, "It's no' easy! Just – give me two seconds, you mad bastard."
Kirk might have told him that he was referring disrespectfully to a senior officer had the circumstances been any less dire. As it was, he stayed silent, waiting patiently for Scotty to work his magic.
At last, Scotty crowed, "I got it! I've sent it to open the door."
Khan settled into a crouch at Kirk's side, Kirk mirroring his posture as he said, "You ready?"
"Are you?" Khan retorted, activating his helmet's navigation system.
Kirk did the same half a second behind him, ordering, "Spock, pull the trigger," before Khan could best him further.
"Yes, Captain," Spock responded, worlds apart from the vulnerable, terrified Spock that confronted him in the hallway.
Here we go, Kirk thought, wondering if it would be the last order he ever gave as Spock began the countdown.
"Launching activations sequence in three . . . two . . . one."
The world dropped away from him and Kirk descended into the abyss.
Author's Notes: Hello, everyone!
So, this one ended up being even more dialogue-compliant than I had anticipated. But I'll do my best with the next one.
Let me know what you thought?
Thank you again for your comments!
~truffles