"You have got to stop saving my ass," Kirk panted. He was leaning against a tree and rubbing his side, trying to relieve the nagging cramp. "This is just getting embarrassing."

"Well, maybe if Starfleet trained its officers a little better, then I wouldn't have to," Carol teased.

"How did you put that together, anyway? You're a biologist, not an engineer."

She gave him a look. "Do I still look like that giddy little blonde lab tech to you? It's not that complicated. Tie a vine to a tree with a little bit of tension, wrap it around another tree to form a trip wire, and leave a loop on the ground for your target."

"I didn't see a trip wire."

"That's because I set it up off to the side and cut it myself. I had to time it perfectly. If I had set it up like an ordinary trip wire, it would have been you hanging from that tree, and Khan could have skinned you at his leisure."

Kirk winced, remembering Carol's unfortunate coworker. He still hadn't given her the details of her team's horrible deaths. "Carol…" he began.

She didn't seem to be listening. "Now that we have a breather, I want a definitive answer. Who is Khan?"

Kirk took a deep breath. "Khan Noonien Singh."

She stared, mouth agape. "What? But.. he lived and died two centures ago."

Kirk shook his head. "No. That's just what the history books say. When the authorities after the Eugenics Wars did a head count of the superhumans, about eighty were missing. They kept it a secret because they feared that the truth would evoke global panic. As it turns out, those eighty had sworn their allegiance to Khan. Under his leadership, they swiped a sleeper ship and headed out into the stars. When we discovered him, two hundred years later, he immediately tried to take over my ship, and temporarily succeeded. However, once we'd regained control, I didn't want to just lock him in prison; it seemed like such a waste of a brilliant mind. So we left him and his followers on a nearby, fertile planet with some supplies to start a colony. He was delighted with the opportunity, and I expected to never hear from him again. But evidently something went wrong, and now he blames me for it."

Carol's jaw was hanging almost to the ground by this point. "Okay. That's insane, but I guess if you were lying you would have come up with something more believable. But one thing I don't understand. I heard you two yelling at each other. What did he mean, 'nobody would believe him'? Believe what?"

Kirk rolled his eyes. "'The truth', according to him. I suppose one day it will turn out that the slaughter of nearly a quarter of the Earth's population and the subsequent Dark Ages was totally justified, and Khan Noonien Singh is in fact a hero. Can you hear the sarcasm, or should I lay it on even thicker?"

Carol chuckled absently. Then she looked thoughtful. "Why would he say something like that?"

"Because he has a martyr complex the size of Regula I." Kirk snorted. "Khan believes himself to be a kind of savior. Back on Earth, it would be him who would lead humanity into its golden age. To his own people, it would be him who led them to greatness. He's a classic narcissist."

Carol shook her head. "I don't think so."

"No? Well, even though I've dealt with him before and you just met the man, obviously you're qualified to make that decision," Kirk shot back. Seeing Carol's hurt look, he instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "It's just.. He's caused so much pain. I just watched Terrell and Saavik die, and I have no reason to believe that Chekov or Bones are still alive. I saw what he did to your friends aboard the station. Khan leaves a trail of death and suffering wherever he goes, and he still has the nerve to feel sorry for himself. Everything he's ever had to go through is entirely his fault."

"Not everything," Carol pointed out.

Kirk stared at her in disbelief. "Are you determined to keep making excuses for him?! Even after he brutally tortured and murdered your friends? They were electrocuted, had fingers and ears and toes TORN OFF, and one of them was skinned alive! They died in horrible agony! Is this how you honor their memory?" He stopped himself, horrified. He hadn't meant to blurt it out like that. He hadn't meant to say any of that. But it was too late now to take it back.

Carol had gone almost grey with pain. She lowered her head and quivered for a few moments.

Kirk sighed. "Carol, I'm sorry."

She lifted her head, blue eyes bright with tears. "You should be!" she snapped. "We came to this station, did this research, cloistered ourselves away from the rest of the world, to help people! So yes, this is how I honor their memory! By choosing to show compassion and mercy to a man who has suffered more than you or I could ever imagine. Yes, maybe he deserved it. But that doesn't mean he hurt any less." She took a deep breath. "One thing that being a parent changes about you is that you're never able to forget, no matter how horrible someone may be, that they were someone's baby. Khan had a mother. I don't know who she was, what happened to her, or why she didn't raise him herself, but somewhere, two hundred years ago, was a woman who conceived him, carried him, and gave birth to him. Unless there was something horribly wrong with her, I'd say it's safe to assume that she loved him." She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, resting her chin on her legs and staring into the distance. "I look at him and can't help but wonder what drove her to give him away. Maybe she was a very poor unwed mother, and she thought that he'd have a better life in the eugenics program. Maybe she couldn't even feed him, and she just wanted him to have shelter, food, and an education. Or maybe she didn't give him away. Maybe he was stolen from her, and she had to live for the rest of her life wondering what happened to her baby boy. Wondering if he was okay." She looked back at Kirk. "Either way," she stated quietly, "Khan grew up with no mother. He was raised in a lab, by cold, uncaring scientists who saw him as a project. He never had a bedtime story. He probably has no memories of his mother. He was probably never kissed or cuddled at any time that he can remember." Carol closed her eyes and shivered. "Can you imagine it?" she whispered. "Growing up alone; totally alone. Never any love or playfulness or affection. Treated like a soldier when he was really only a baby. Learning how to kill when he should have been learning to love." She opened her eyes and gazed sadly at the astonished admiral sitting a few feet away. "I don't see a narcissist when I look at Khan. I see a man who doesn't even really know what love is. I'd bet a significant amount of money that no one showed him even the slightest kindness for the first twenty years of his life. I'm not defending him. He should face justice for what he's done. But I could never, ever hate him."

Kirk could only stare blankly. It had never even occurred to him to look at Khan in those terms. Once more he felt a pang of regret for not raising David. Perhaps he could have achieved some of Carol's wisdom.

"It's funny how easily we forget our mothers," he observed. "We forget that other people have mothers too. And then we're reminded, and we see them in a whole new way.

"It reminds us that there's at least one woman out there who loves this person," Carol replied, "more than her own life. It's jarring. Our hate consumes us to the point where we simply assume that everyone else feels the same way. And then we're reminded that they don't. It's hard to imagine that there was once a woman who loved Khan Noonien Singh. But there was. And I think if she could see him now, could see what became of her baby, all she would be able to do is hold him and weep; weep for what he suffered, and the dark path his feet were set on - that she set them on. No one imagines their darling will be a monster."

Kirk gazed admiringly at her. "I remember now how compassionate you always were. It was one of the many things that drew me to you; one of the things I loved." He chuckled softly. "I don't think I could have suffered anyone else to lecture me on giving Khan Singh a break."

Carol smiled sadly. "It was dearly bought," she said simply and quietly.

Kirk's smile faded. "I'm sorry about David," he whispered. "I'm sorry that you had to get involved. Sorry I couldn't save your friends or protect him." He buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry for everything."

"James Tiberius Kirk!" Carol barked. His head snapped up in shock. "This is not your fault!"

Kirk stared wide-eyed for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Only you!" he gasped.

Carol stared, nonplussed. "What do you mean, 'only me'?"

Kirk could hardly breathe. "Only you - could - comfort a man - by - yelling at him!" He collapsed once more into helpless guffaws.

After a moment, Carol joined him. They spent a good five minutes laughing until their sides ached, until they both lay on the ground gasping for air. "Jim, are we crazy?" Carol asked.

"Nope," Kirk responded. "We're being chased through an underground jungle by a madman, our son is dead, and there's no telling if we'll get out of this alive. We need some kind of stress reliever." He closed his eyes, relishing the moment of peace.

Carol giggled and stood up. "I'm so not looking forward to the judicial process after this. All the paperwork and interviews, and a trial if we can manage to capture Khan alive. It'll take forever. That's one thing I can't stand about democracy; it leads to bureaucracy. Dictatorships are much more efficient."

She would have gone on, except for the horrible strength of the arm suddenly wrapped around her neck. "I completely agree, Dr. Marcus."

Well, so much for weekly updates. You guys can thank Child of Mars for this chapter; she's the one who inspired me to get off my lazy butt and get this posted. If you're interested in great Khanfiction, I highly recommend that you check out her story "Breathe Deeply Before You Fall". It'll break your heart and crush your soul, but it's completely worth it. Live long and prosper!