Chapter 1

"Admiral Santiago, Doctor McCoy on a safe internal channel."

"Yes, thank you, commander. Put him through." Admiral Santiago closed the audio channel, paused to look at the other twelve Star Fleet officers at the conference table, nodded once in the general direction of everybody and engaged the visual communication screen that covered a good part of one of the room's walls. "Doctor. Good to hear from you."

"Admiral, I'm aware that it's quite late already…"

Santiago gave the tiniest shake of his head, along with an equally small smile. "There is no need for excuses, doctor McCoy. Who better to know than you that in times like these, there is no such thing as regular working hours. You have actually chosen a very appropriate moment, as the entire task force is gathered here right now." Leaning back in his chair, he fixed the man onscreen with a scrutinizing stare, noticed the signs of fatigue carved into a pale face. No, he decided with an inward sigh. No regular working hours for anyone these days. "You have news for us?"

"Yes sir, I have. He…he's awake, lucid and in alarmingly sound physical shape after five and a half years of cryosleep. Precise reflexive responses, faultless perceptiveness and meticulous speaking abilities."

Admiral Santiago leant forward. "He talked to you."

"Avoiding that was hardly possible." Expression hardening, McCoy glanced down at the data screen in his hands that gave some audio signal and silenced it with a few swift movements before he met Santiago's eyes again. "Recognized me, addressed me correctly, title and name – and then gave me a complete synopsis of his current medical condition, the cocky bastard. Which, on top of it all, was correct down to the last muscular hypoxia."

With a short nod, Santiago acknowledged the low murmur this information gave rise to in the room. "So he remembers you – and most likely everything else that happened almost six years ago." Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure yet whether that's good or bad news. Did he try to attack you?"

"No, sir."

"Did he threaten you in any way?"

"No, sir. He was all calm aloofness with an annoying amount of arrogance... which certainly just *could* be his default communication mode."

The Admiral's glance turned cool. "But you don't think so."

"No sir, I don't." McCoy hesitated. "Sir, this only rests upon intuition and I have not the slightest evidence that…"

"Doctor, your intuitions are the reason why you and some of your crew members of the Enterprise were brought in on this. Your suspicions where Khan Noonien Singh is concerned are more founded than anything we think we know about him. Please go on."

Still looking slightly uncomfortable, McCoy nodded. "I think that he is fully aware of the general nature of the situation. He may not know exactly what it is we need him for, but he does know that we need him. The fact alone that we did wake him at all after the last time he ran free tells him enough. From where he is sitting, we are nothing but suppliants. And I'm also quite sure he doesn't even consider to comply."

"What makes you think that, Doctor?"

"I can't tell you precisely." Frustration colored McCoy's words. "It was his tone of voice, his entire behavior. All of it felt like when I met him first on the Enterprise, when he knew exactly what he wanted and exactly what he had to do to achieve it. Now it feels like he is just as completely positive and adamant about what he *doesn't* want and won't do, and he displays it down to the way he turns his head to give better access to a hyposyringe. And all of this deliberate non-verbal communication was solely for my benefit, because he knew I would read it correctly. Because he wanted me to know that he knows and tell me at the same time that we won't get what we need from him."

Admiral Santiago nodded. "So he is already back to playing games. Well, we have no time for this nonsense. I have a feeling that when we'll have pointed out to him that, no matter how desperate our situation may be, we do have the means of exerting pressure and will not hesitate to do so, his attitude might change. What is his current status, Doctor?"

"He was transferred to a holding cell on level seventeen, to which he put up no resistance at all. His last medical readings, which I took about fifteen minutes ago, were within absolutely normal limits. He was offered small amounts of light food and beverages which he both ingested and was able to keep down. From a medical point of view, he is perfectly fine. And as much as it pains me to say so as a doctor, sir, I freely admit that I'm not happy about that."

This time, Santiago's smile was clearly visible. "I don't think anyone here will hold that against you, Doctor McCoy. We are all aware of the strain this additional assignment has put on you and very grateful you took it on anyway, your personal history with Khan notwithstanding." The Admiral rose, indicating that the conversation was coming to an end. "Please keep monitoring his condition. We will pay him a first visit tomorrow and, depending on the results, we might have to impose on you again regarding the further arrangements that may be in order to…convince him."

It was impossible to miss the twitch that rippled over McCoy's face. "With all due respect, sir, I have to repeat my categorical objection to that particular step and I don't think…"

"I assure you that no one in this room is very keen on executing this 'particular step'." Santiago interrupted in a slightly warning tone of voice. "From what you are telling us, though, he might leave us very little choice. I don't have to remind you of all people of the hopeless situation we are facing here. I also don't have to tell you that neither the consulted terrestrial nor extraterrestrial experts were able to find a solution so far. And, doctor, as you are probably more painfully aware of than anyone else: We are running out of time."

Putting both of his hands firmly on the conference table, Santiago leant forward to let his eyes bore into those of McCoy. "Khan Noonien Singh might actually be our very last chance. And if we have to bend the ethical and moral standards of the very population we endeavor to save, then so be it!"

Opposition in every line of his tired face, McCoy simply looked back.

"We rely on your cooperation, Doctor McCoy." Santiago's gaze softened. "Get some sleep. We will see you tomorrow on level seventeen, most likely sometime in the late morning. You'll be informed accordingly."

"Sir."

His hand already on its way to the control panel to end the transmission, the admiral paused.

"Doctor. I wonder, regarding your fierce rejection of the course of action High Command has decreed if necessary - have you told him that his crew is still alive?"

McCoy's jaw muscles worked furiously. Wordlessly, he held Santiago's gaze.

"*Have* you, Doctor?"

As McCoy closed his eyes in defeat, Santiago knew he had won this round. Along with the doctor's cooperation.

"No. No, sir, I haven't."

The annoying feeling of déjà vu had been nagging at him for hours. Sometimes he envied those with a brain that didn't allow more than a momentary flash of those maddening illusions of foresight. Then again, the time he had spent in holding cells ever since Star Fleet had gotten hold of him was quite notable - and since their look and feel hadn't much changed since the last time he had occupied one, the sense of recognition was easily explained.

Which didn't mean that he had grown used to feeling like the central piece of an exhibition: brightly illuminated, with no option of retreat whatsoever and the eyes of eight red-shirted guards on him all the time.

It also didn't mean that he liked it.

The waiting itself didn't bother him too much, though. With no need to deliberately keep down his cerebral activity anymore, he was finally able to actually think. And it wouldn't be long anymore before they would come for him anyway.

Or rather for whatever it was they wanted from him.

Something had changed.

Crossing the main level of Star Fleet Command, Commander Spock was well aware of how everything…*felt* different. He couldn't explain exactly what it was. The fact alone that he did sense it at all most certainly wasn't logical. Still, the strange sensation of an unaccountable disturbance rippled against his consciousness and he knew that it wasn't the result of the general pandemic panic. It went deeper. Also, it was the reason he was on his way to his captain at this very moment. And of course he was very aware of what had actually triggered this sense of a looming, not quite tangible threat.

Khan had been reported awake only an hour ago.

And as difficult as it had been for Spock to admit it to himself, this knowledge disturbed him far more than the apparently uncontrollable microorganism they were trying to fight.

Inwardly slightly shaking his head at himself, Spock passed through the decontamination sluice, exited the building and stepped onto the uncommonly deserted campus. The only individuals out and about were exclusively clad in uniform – most of them medical, some enforcement, a few Federation. The entire atmosphere was oppressive and the emptiness of the streets spoke volumes about the graveness of the situation. He knew that even now and only in San Francisco, thousands of people were dying, just as many were being informed of the fact that they were infected - and countless men, women and children were suffering any condition between those two extremes. All over Earth, the situation was just as grave and the death toll just as high. His Vulcan half considered this situation as absolutely unacceptable, yet they were not one step closer to developing a cure let alone a vaccine against the most aggressive and unfortunately most perfectly adapted pathogen in human history. As a Vulcan, he was not as susceptible to infection - thought he was by no means immune, there had already been a few extraterrestrial victims, among them two Vulcans - and due to his scientific expertise a logical choice for being appointed to the research team that was analysing the few samples they had been able to obtain of the microorganism so far, using theoretical as well as applied science approaches.

And though they'd been working day and night in two separate shifts for two months now, they had been defeated over and over again. No matter which enhanced antibiotic they came up with, the genetic equipment of the agent enabled it to counteract each of their attempts with a mutation within hours. It almost seemed too efficient to have evolved naturally – yet Spock was very aware that genetic selection was a most powerful force that definitely could produce the apparently perfect microorganism they were currently fighting.

That didn't help them with the fact that they were running out of options. And, even more important, they were running out of time as well. It was essential that they found a way to effectively fight and ultimately control this pandemic very, very soon. He himself had urged Star Fleet High Command to set absolutely all available levers in motion to do so. A course of action he now almost…regretted.

They had told him that it was the very last resort. They had reasoned how everything was different this time. Had justified the unthinkable by persuading themselves of the completely altruistic cause. Spock, however, did not care for noble motives or perfectly sound reasons. The only relevant thing, and in this case probably even more than in general, was the result.

And in his very firm opinion, the fact that Khan Noonien Singh was awake again, irrespective of the expertise he might be able to contribute, was not an end that justified any means whatsoever.

Breaking from his musings, Spock crossed one final deserted street and found himself standing at the door to the apartment complex where Captain Kirk was staying during their current terrestrial mission that had brought them back to Earth a little earlier than planned. He knew that Starfleet Command had offered them to remain onboard the Enterprise to minimize the risk of infection, but Kirk, McCoy and Spock had immediately declined. The doctor and he himself were too much involved in the attempts to gain control of the pandemic and would have been of no use to anyone by doing their work from a starship. And Kirk, being who he was, had outright refused to stay safe when two of his senior officers - and friends - were risking so much.

Perfectly illogical.

As he was most of the time.

Spock entered the tall building, endured the decontamination agent he was sprayed with in the only recently installed sluice and made his way to the turbo lift. The car smelled of desinfectants and a screen read several rules of conduct about how to act in private as well as public surroundings in order to avoid infection. Knowing how little effect this counsel had had so far, Spock deliberately glanced away from the brightly blinking lines.

He had not looked at them again when he left the lift on the 34th floor.

Kirk's apartment was at the end of the arched isle, nothing at the door indicating that one of the most illustrious captains of the entire fleet currently lived behind it. As Spock entered the radius of the surveillance system, he noted the soft chime that announced his presence inside. He had grown accustomed to the fact that due to his acute Vulcan sensory perception, he was constantly overexposed to sound, smell and sometimes even visual impressions that humans were simply not able to perceive.

Well. One most probably was.

The opening door did nothing to prevent his thoughts from fully returning to Khan. After all, he was the reason why Spock had decided to call on Kirk in the first place.

The man in question was waving one hand at him, signaling Spock to come inside, while he was holding his communicator with the other.

"…yes, Scotty, I heard you…I agree completely…yeah, do that, you know I have absolute confidence in you…yeah. Yeah, thank you. Thank you, Mr. Scott. Kirk out."

The captain's mildly irritated tone of voice was impossible to miss. With a slightly cocked head, Spock watched Kirk slamming his communicator shut with a clearly audible and exasperated sigh.

"Why is he doing that? He knows perfectly well that I only understand half of his warp-tech-speech about optimizations and modifications at the best of times." Kirk let the communicator clatter on the table beside him. "At the moment, I wouldn't trust myself with riding a ground car. Let alone making decisions about how to tease out a two percent increase in the Enterprise's warp core efficiency."

Spock took a few steps further into the room. "Do I assume correctly, then, that you have already been informed?"

Kirk lifted his eyes to him. There was no need to question what, or rather who, Spock was referring to.

"Bones told me half an hour ago."

The captain's temper at Mr. Scott's officiousness had already been a distinct sign. That Kirk used Dr. McCoy's nickname when talking about him to Spock of all people only confirmed how badly the captain had been shaken by the message about Kahn's revival. He could tell by Kirk's forced smile, though, that he tried to cope with the situation. That he tried hard.

"The first plan didn't work out, then?"

Spock shook his head. "Unfortunately, it didn't, Captain, all our high hopes notwithstanding. We cannot even tell why it failed. Still, after we had informed Star Fleet Command, it took only two hours before Khan's revival was enacted."

Kirk sighed. "I really thought I was able to take this more…I don't know, professionally?" Clearly exasperated with himself, the captain ran both hands through his hair. "It's been more than five years now, right? Still, the mere thought of him being awake gives me the creeps."

"If you are so severely affected by the situation, Captain, I think it would be advisable for you not to be included in the upcoming dealings with him." Spock paused. "No offence intended."

With a small laugh, Kirk began pacing the room. "None taken, Spock. Star Fleet has already decided on the lucky one who is to be his handler anyway, and, luckily, it's not me. As said person's captain, though, I was accordingly informed right after I'd learned about...well. Him being awake." Kirk stopped and turned, watching his first officer very closely. "They want you to work with him, Spock."

He had expected this. If he was being honest, he had known it from the very first time the idea of reviving Khan had been mentioned. "Considering that my experiences in dealing with Khan are probably among the most…intense, it is the…"

"The logical choice. Yeah, of course." Kirk interrupted. "In addition to that, it might have mattered that you are also the only one who probably commands a little respect from him."

Spock had already considered this and was not able to consent with it. "I seriously doubt that he will be intimidated by me at all, Captain. My presence will possibly make him more alert, in the worst case more aggressive and therefore more uncooperative than he will most likely be anyway." He knew that this was Jim Kirk and that therefore speaking his mind was no risk at all, still he hesitated for the fraction of a second. "Captain, I do not agree with the decision of Star Fleet Command to revive Kahn Noonien Singh. Even if he might be able to find a possibility to successfully fight the pandemic, making ourselves dependent on someone like him is a concept I admit to find deeply disturbing. Yet, the decision has been made and as a Federation officer, I accept it. If Star Fleet Command is in agreement that I am the most qualified to collaborate with him, I will certainly do so to the best of my ability."

"I was afraid you'd say that." Kirked sighed. "Spock, I will only ask this once, and please answer truthfully. And no, don't give me any of that 'Vulcans cannot lie'-shit." Kirk walked up to him until they were standing only a few inches apart. "I am probably no standard, but you see how this whole thing is shaking me. And despite all your aptitude to choose simply not to feel, I know that you are affected by it as well. He broke your emotional control once, and I'm very sure the bastard is very aware of it. He will use this against you if he thinks he will gain any advantage by it. If the two of you will be actually cooperating on this, you will be spending a lot of time with each other in the very confined space of a lab or wherever it is you people work. So I need to know, Spock." A pause, earnest eyes searching his. "Are you truly able to handle this? To handle him?"

It was a question he had not contemplated yet. He was even able to admit to himself that he had been avoiding it. The memory of the complete loss of the governance of his emotions almost six years ago was not a very pleasant one and Spock preferred to examine it only from a certain distance and with a lot of caution. He had been ready to do anything it would have taken to kill Khan during their mad chase through San Francisco, and this mere seeking for vengeance, for the infamous "eye-for-an-eye", was so decidedly beneath everything he knew to be true that it was still difficult for him to accept that it had actually happened…

"Spock?"

"I am sorry, Captain." Closing his eyes briefly, Spock took another moment to gather his thoughts. "While it is certainly true that, regarding past events, working with Kahn under any other circumstances might be…difficult, the current situation doesn't allow any personal affectivity to interfere with necessity. Regarding what is at stake, as well as the possibility that Khan's contribution might be valuable, I am absolutely positive that I am able 'to handle him'. Jim."

Kirk nodded once. "I believe you." With a little smile, he turned and walked over to a small service area. "So it will not be on you if that particular strategy fails. Anyway, the real problem will be to get him to cooperate at all." Pouring a cup of steaming liquid, Kirk raised two questioning eyebrows at his first officer. "Coffee. You want?"

"No, thank you, captain." Spock slowly walked to one of the tall windows that allowed a spectacular view of San Francisco Bay. Kirk had just raised a topic he found just as disturbing as the fact that a breathing and *thinking* Kahn Noonien Singh was currently sitting in a holding cell only a few blocks away from them. "Are you familiar with the course of action Star Fleet Command has already decreed should Khan refuse to cooperate?"

Sipping from his cup, Kirk did not answer immediately. "They plan to take a page of Marcus's book." Spock watched something shift in his captain's face. "And you don't like that."

Spock folded his hands behind his back and straightened a little, but said nothing.

Kirk set his coffee down on shelf beside him. "Spock, you of all people should know that his crew is the only approach that works on him. You used it yourself when you saved the Enterprise from being destroyed by that bastard and …"

"As you summarized correctly, Captain, I reacted to an immediate threat which would have resulted in the death of the entire crew of the Enterprise. I did *not* make a man choose between losing seventy-two beloved people and turning into an instrument to serve my needs." Surprised by the firmness he had interrupted Kirk with, Spock forced himself to calm down. "I cannot approve this strategy. It is unethical and will ultimately result in making an even more determined enemy. "

Kirk looked at him, incredulous. "Spock, there is a very immediate threat here as well with even more lives at stake! And as uncomfortable as we might be with it, there is an option of rising the chances to save those not yet dead - and all you can think about is another ethic lecture!"

"Captain, I am not…"

"Of course you are! And you know what? It reminds me very much of a similar argument a little more than five years ago when my first officer reminded me of how immoral it was to kill a man without trial. And do I have to actually tell you how that ended? The very same first officer chased said man through half of San Francisco and had to be stopped from smashing his brains in! But it's good to know that this time around you're 'absolutely positive that you will be able to handle him'!"

The disciplined Vulcan part of his mind detachedly registered the aggressiveness in Kirk's voice and stance, connected it with the captain's general tetchiness since he had learned about Khan and told him firmly that the offence had not been intentional. Still, Kirk had managed to touch a nerve here, and Spock had no intention of letting this absurd situation continue.

Khan had not even physically re-entered their lives yet.

But already, he had them fighting.

"I probably have underestimated the severity of your currently compromised composure, Captain." It didn't take more than eleven steps to reach the door, which swished open at his direct approach. "I apologize for not having been more observant. I should have realized that a discussion of this particular topic was not appropriate at this time."

He more sensed than heard Kirk's sigh behind him. "Spock, I'm sorry. That outburst was uncalled for."

Already standing in the open door, Spock turned around one more time. "On the contrary, Captain. It was quite understandable, given the circumstances. I should not have pushed the point and am therefore responsible for the outcome." He nodded a slight good-bye. "I suppose we will see each other tomorrow morning at the meeting preceding Admiral Santiago's first confrontation with Khan."

"Spock, listen, I…"

The rest of the sentence was cut off by the closing door.