It didn't take long to reach San Fransico, though a majority of the trip was over water. It was strange, to be surrounded by nothing but open ocean, the sky and the sea identical in colour so it was impossible to tell where one began and the other disappeared.
They didn't talk, though John - no, Khan she corrected herself - clearly found little challenge in the aircraft and Evelette had nothing to do. After a while she pulled out the disk, turning it between her two index fingers, deliberately not thinking. It was oddly simply, to just observe and not analyze.
The only thing she felt safe considering was his name, rolling it over in her mind. It wasn't a well used name any longer - especially not for humans. She could vaguely remember a Khan somewhere in history, a barbarian capable of anything... But he'd been turned back to his homeland simply by a single conversation with a Pope. Or was that a Hun?
She fixed her attention on the present as they plunged into lights and life again,
working down the panic rising in her chest as adrenaline picked up through her body. She hadn't seen Starfleet command since she'd thrown her emblem away, even this year her resignation was done on the station.
Starfleet wasn't a place she remembered fondly, though she'd had good moments there. She wasn't much for friends, so beyond excelling in studies the only memory she recalled fondly of the building was when she found out she'd been special requested to the SS Montana.
Gods she'd been eager to go into space. More the fool her.
"Last chance to change your mind. We'll both be seen at Starfleet - they'll have enough evidence to convict you, if you ever reach a hearing."
"Stop trying to get rid of me and lets get this done." She put the disk away, magnetic squares in a zipper like pattern snapping together to seal the pocket. "We're going to Marcus' office? Will he be there this late?"
"Not his office. Emergency conference room." Khan slowed the jumpship significantly as they melded into the city, bending a weaving to comply with the aerial chart on the ship's display.
"Emergency?" She lifted a brow. "Have you been attacking people?"
"Mostly guilty parties. I need my weapons." He nodded to the bag on the floor. "The London Archives covered a weapons facility. It exploded a few hours ago."
"Hence the dust." She said more to herself than to him. "But if they're having a conference about a bombing-"
"All the captains and commanding officers will be gathered in a single room. A strategic error, one they won't think to rectify."
"Cripple the chain of command, weaken the forces that will come after us." There was that chilling logic of his again. "Smart."
"Thank you." He was... Excited. As disturbing as it was, how could she blame him? Vengeance was his way of honouring the fallen, and killing the captains and commanders was as close a parallel as Khan could draw to the destruction of his crew.
She looked to the guns mounted to the tips of the wings, trying to gauge how much damage a shot from one of them could do to the human body. Catastrophic, certainly, but whether or not it was a quick death would depend on where the shot landed. And if it hit a limb... Survival would be possible.
"You're not going to have to fire." Khan guessed where her mind was going. "The jumpship will do it automatically, locking onto heat signatures."
"So there's less guarantee Marcus will be hit." She said, voice a little sharper than she intended.
"No matter who dies, Marcus is hit." Khan shrugged, pulling off the main flight pattern and flipping a switch as the display attempted to plot a new course to lead them to the hangers. It shut off, and the cockpit grew a little blacker. She took a deep breath as she flew toward the two cylindrical buildings, attached by thin platforms.
They moved close to the window, the jumpship reflected in the glass. She saw shapes scrambling beyond the windows, but then they were headed upward, slowly. They came to a stop finally mid-way up, and her fingernails bit into the seat as she saw a single figure standing, the room cast in the red glow of the jumpship's front lights. The ship let out a high pitched whine as the turrets came to life, casting green rays.
My Hero Aunty.
The room exploded, shards of glass spraying in all directions as the turrets shattered the windows, locking on and dropping the faceless forms in the room. The tables turned over, and the smarter among the figures got behind them. Some attempted to run. Most fell in a streak of green.
She couldn't hear the chaos from inside the aircraft, and it made for a strangely out of body experience. Perfect serenity in the face of decimation.
Only Eve wasn't calm. Perhaps it was Khan's influence that made her see so clearly that Marcus' death was just, but actually watching innocent life burnt out…
She didn't realize she was holding her breath until a shot pinged off her window. Flinching, she shrunk back as more ricocheted off harmlessly. She looked beyond, watching a man lower a phaser rifle.
There was too much distance between the man and her to make out many distinctive features. Blond hair, average height, Starfleet first officer uniform – but in the way one does, she knew when their eyes met.
Eve lifted a hand to the glass. She wanted to call out to him, to have him hear her. She needed to apologise for unleashing this hell, for whatever more was coming. But there weren't words for this kind of sin. And what point was there in apologising when she knew there was more to be done?
He left, dropping his gun, running to the wall and opening an emergency locker. He grabbed the fire hose, pulling it out wildly hand flying over hand. Eve narrowed her eyes, trying to see what he was doing. Fire hoses had a great deal of water pressure, but it was nothing compared to the power of a jumpship.
Then he began wrapping it around the gun.
"Khan?" Eve turned to her companion. He ignored her, mind utterly absorbed in the carnage as he jerked the controls to the side, the ship swerving out of the path of a light grade explosive fired at the hull. He swirved them back, raining fire down on the already obliterated room.
There was a loud crack from under their feet, deep within the machinery. Eve lifted her head, and saw the hose stretching from the wall to underneath the ship, running at a pace that was causing smoke to puff out of the wall. And then it stopped, the wall cracked, and the man dived to the side to avoid the emergency locker.
"Khan!" She screamed as the locker flew under the ship, sucked up into the engine through the air intake port. The back shook, and the ship pitched downward at an unnatural angel sending the tail spinning in circles as he tried to keep them up. Eve gripped whatever she could get her hands on, insides turning with the ship making her want to vomit.
"Grab the bag. Evelette take the bag at your feet."
His voice was so unaffected, even in the midst of crashing. She swung her arms forward, snatching up one of the straps and dragging the bag up to hug against her chest. She shut her eyes, trying to push out any sort of sensation from her mind. She heard the high pitched singing noise before she felt her body changing, and she opened her eyes to find streaks of gold circling her. Khan hit the seatbelt release as she flung forward.
But when she should have hit the dash, it took longer before she hit something solid, the bag landing first as the insides crushed against her chest knocking her breath out of her chest. She wheezed, her bruised side flaring up in protest as she rolled off the bag and onto gritty earth.
"Evelette, are you injured?"
She complained noisily as she was turned over. He was leaning over her, hands darting over her checking bones. The pinching was particularly unpleasant on her damaged side.
"Stop." She tried to push his hands off, though he ignored her until he was certain she was in one piece. She glared at him as he sat back on his heels. Her view of him was slightly obstructed by bits of black debris snapping through the air. "I said stop."
"I needed to check if you were injured." He said unapologetically. But there was a fringe of panic to the way he continued to look at her. "You're alarmingly fragile."
"Like a flower." She gripped her side as she sat up, making an effort not to groan. She coughed as she inhaled a piece of the black, spitting it out quickly. She tugged up the scarf. "Where are we?"
"Qo'noS." Khan leaned forward, pulling the hood up over her head. "Are you capable of moving? We can't afford to linger."
"I'll be fine." She made sure to stand on her own, though she let him pick up the bag after he pulled his own hood. "We aren't going to try and make friends with any Klingons are we?"
"Your racism is astounding, but no." Khan scanned the apocalyptic looking world – all blacks and bruised yellows, rocky earth and grime patterned abandoned architecture. He led the way onward as thunder cracked overhead to the flash of lightning in the distance.