Jorr sensed a presence behind him in the shuttle bay. He snapped the cover plate back over the impulse engine he had been working on and stood up with a stretch of his neck and shoulders. He listened to his visitor approach with soft footfalls. Her scent drifted to him. She smelled of Guyhik flowers, a rare blossom which grew on the shores of the lake near his childhood home. He snorted.

"Shouldn't your attentions be on sick bay?" he asked without turning around.

"The situation is well in hand, Commander Jorr," the female's lilting voice responded.

"Then why are you here?" he replied gruffly.

"I came to aid with your shuttle repairs."

"Well, it is unnecessary. I have finished."

"Oh . . ."

Jorr grabbed a nearby cloth, wiped his hands and finally turned. He squinted at the Klingon female standing near a repair kiosk dressed in a traditional beige and grey dress with warrior's breastplate. He frowned and sauntered towards the figure. She set her feet and lifted her chin as he came to a halt well past what most would consider a comfortable distance. Her scent filled his nostrils.

"What is this?"

The woman looked down at her attire anxiously. "I . . . I thought you might be more comfortable if I took this form-"

"Did you? Is that also why you smell of Guyhik? For my comfort?"

Her eyes remained cast down. He grit his teeth as her lip quivered. He gave his head a shake. It was not real, none of it was real, and he hated this game she played. Still, he could not resist her strange allure. He traced a finger down the ridges on her forehead.

"This façade offers me no comfort, woman," he growled, "so take yourself out of my sight or do away with this nonsense."

Beneath the pad of his index, the ridges undulated and sank back into her forehead and her skin smoothed. Her long braided hair retracted and transformed into a severe cut with blunt bangs, bobbed ends and tresses black as a star-less sky. It was a bit jarring to be staring down at a Vulcan, even though he had seen this form once or twice already. However, this creature was not a Vulcan either, really. A fact he had to remind himself of constantly.

"Is this another costume as well? I have never quite figured it out."

She turned large, dark pewter-grey eyes up towards him. His breath hitched and he dropped his hand. They were too large for her face. She looked like cornered prey.

"N-No, this is the form of my programmer. This is what she coded for my default appearance . . . to look l-like her."

Jorr scrunched his nose. He was the only one who knew her secret. Even the Captain was unaware of the corporeal form Shrike could take within her own walls. Why she chose to reveal herself to him and no one else, he hadn't yet learned. She was a confusing contradiction. She followed strict conventions, like all her Starfleet Directives, but also flouted them at will. Until he knew more about her and the technology of her birth, he was guarding her secret, as much for her safety as anyone.

After a few moments of silence, Shrike blinked up at him with a nervous look in her eyes. It unsettled him to find himself stirred for she was too polished, too smooth - too much like the composite wall panels that surrounded him. Her skin was almost lustrous. Her hair shone like obsidian threads of glass and he had never encountered a creature in all his travels with the same burnished, metallic sheen to their irises. Yet, despite her manufactured appearance, there was a vitalness and vulnerability about this female that tweaked his instincts.

"Could not she have made you taller, Shrike?" he muttered. "You are as tiny as our new doctor, if not smaller. What use would you have been to me in fixing my shuttle?"

Jorr followed up his criticism by poking her in the shoulder. He expected her to stumble back but she stood rigid and anger marred her too-perfect features. Unexpectedly, Shrike grabbed his wrist. He realized too late that she was stronger than she looked as her fingers clamped down. Then, she twisted his wrist so painfully that he cried out and dropped to his knees. She squeezed a pressure point. He clenched his teeth against a roar of pain.

"I assure you, Commander, I can do anything you can do and better," she menaced as she hovered over him.

With a grunt, Jorr regained his faculties and in a flurry of movement, wrestled Shrike's arms behind her back and corralled her wrists with one hand. His other hand grasped her chin. He huffed. She still smelled of flowers. Shrike's struggling became almost like a dance and he quickly came to understand that he had not over-powered her at all. She was just pretending to fight him.

"Stop," he commanded gruffly, "stop resisting me."

She glowered up at him. "Why?"

He inhaled a deep breath. "Because it is obvious you do not want me to let you go, Shrike."

An undercurrent of guilt tempered her scowl. Her cheeks stained pink. He could not help but be in awe of her construct. She was much more than brilliant artifice.

"Y-You do not know anything," she replied in a breathless voice.

Jorr pressed her tightly against him and dropped his head. "I know when a woman wants me."

She scoffed. "Do you really? You were wrong about the Doctor!"

His eyes narrowed. "You were paying attention to that, were you?"

Shrike blushed. Again, he gave his head a shake. She shouldn't affect him. She shouldn't feel so natural in his arms. This small female was just the manifestation of the ship. The situation was absurd.

"Commander," she whispered.

Jorr was about to release his captive but curiosity nagged him. His eyes flicked up and down her face. Her lips beckoned him. He had the overwhelming urge to gauge just how real she was.

"I am going to kiss you, woman," he said roughly, "tell me you do not want this right now and it will not happen."

The tiny faux-Vulcan's eyes widened. Instead of a refusal, Shrike licked her lips and inhaled a feathery little breath. That was all Jorr needed to swoop down and kiss her. Almost as soon as their lips touched, she launched herself up at him, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him back furiously. He groaned and embraced her slight frame. Her eager tongue worked its way into his mouth. His hand found its way to the back of her head where he cradled it gently and he met her tongue thrust for thrust. He spiraled towards a loss of control at the feel of her pliant yet demanding lips. She was everything he fantasized about in a sexual partner - possessing both incredible strength and assertiveness. Lust crept up on him and threatened to pull him down into madness.

"Mmmph!" he broke away and set her away from him.

His blood raged. He was half-deaf from the sound of it pumping through his ears. It had been months since he had lain with a woman and he was but a few seconds from pinning a being he did not fully understand to the shuttle bay floor and rutting her senseless.

"You should go," he mumbled.

Her face fell. "D-Did I not . . . please you?"

Jorr licked his tongue over his teeth and scowled at her distressed expression. Tender feelings were bewildering to him. If he had rejected a Klingon woman upon whom he made the initial advance, he would probably have found himself in a battle over her impugned honor - one he would have to lose for her to regain her dignity. However, this was no Klingon and he had to dig deep to think of anything to say.

"You . . . you pleased me too much," he murmured lamely.

"If you enjoyed our embrace, why do you reject me?"

Again, her large eyes discombobulated him.

"This is folly," he rubbed a hand over his face. "How far did you expect me to take this?"

She didn't answer. However, her expression was enough to tell him everything. He stared at her for several moments.

"That far, hmm?"

Shrike wrung her hands. She chewed her lip.

"I just want to have the same experiences as others. I want to know how it feels . . . I have watched the Captain-"

Jorr felt his guts coil. He clamped his teeth tightly. He was extremely irritated by that thought. Then, in an incomprehensible rush of jealousy, he spit out his very next thoughts.

"Well, we cannot do it here," he said rashly and cursed in Klingon at his impetuousness, "come to my quarters tonight if you are intent on pursuing this."

Surprise and the delight rounded Shrike's eyes and her lips twitched up. Then she nodded quickly and lit out of the bay as if she was afraid he would change his mind. Once she was gone, Jorr plunked down and rubbed his temples. Somehow, he knew his behavior was incredibly ill-advised, but he didn't want anyone else providing Shrike the experiences she craved. She belonged to him.

A groan roused Molly from where she slumbered in Sickbay. She sat up in her seat with a start as she realized Khan stirred. She swished her hair from her face, held her breath and watched him closely for several moments. His breaths deepened and eyelashes fluttered. She leapt from her seat and skipped to his bedside but he appeared to lapse back into unconsciousness.

"Khan?"

For days she had held vigil at his side after her runaway red-matter episode on the bridge had stopped his heart. If not for his incredible regenerating powers, he would have died from his injuries. The hours by his bedside, first when she was unsure if he would live and later as she wrestled with her guilt, had been mentally exhausting.

"Khan?" she whispered again as she leaned over him.

Steely arms grabbed her and next thing Molly knew, she was splayed on top of her Captain. He squinted at her as if the light hurt his eyes but then fortified himself with a breath. His lips set in determination, his hands dove into her hair and he tugged her head down. Warm, plump lips pressed to hers and began to draw her to him. She sighed and relaxed on top of his long, lean form. His fingers left her hair and slid down her body and under the skirt of her uniform.

"Lord, help me," she thought to herself, "I want this. Just one last time."

She squelched the inner voice of sanity. She did not want to think about anything but what was happening in that moment. His large palms curved over her arse, he squeezed her bum and ground his hips upwards. His engorged manhood pressed insistently through a thin layer of linens and her uniform. His tongue delved into her mouth and she felt its wet, fleshy glide against her own. She tipped her chin down to take more of him and to revel in the feel of his languid explorations. When his fingers dipped under the waistband of her tights and began to push them down with her knickers, she shimmied and wriggled until she could kick them both off. She also managed to push his covers off his naked torso and in the space of a few heartbeats, his rigid cock jutted up between her legs and slid against her cleft

"Mmph," she mumbled on his mouth when his fingers slid between her cheeks.

"I have dreamed of this for what seems like an eternity," his low voice vibrated her very soul, "I have dreamed of your warmth, the way you fit me . . . the way you grip me."

"A-ah, Khan . . ."

Molly opened her legs and let her knees slide down beside him. His fingers sought her core where an ache rapidly developed. He chased her mouth again. When his lips caught hers, both his tongue and his fingers penetrated her at the same time in a dual invasion. She hissed in air against his mouth and then kissed him back desperately.

"Unh," she gasped as his long,hard fingers curled in and out of her cunt.

Khan continued to plunge into her until she was weat and moaning softly between his wicked kisses. He seemed determined to completely confound her senses. He only allowed her to take the odd breath between his erotic tongue lashing and finger pumping. Then, when she was shuddering on top of him, she felt him guide his cock to her entrance. The prod of it had her quivering in anticipation. Always, always, this part was bliss - the moment when his rotund girth began to stretch her flesh. She could never quite believe that she could take him.

Molly pushed on his shaft greedily. With a groan, Khan gripped her hips and lifted his own. Her mouth began to salivate. There was something viscerally satisfying about feeling his pressure and taut flesh slide past her swollen lips. She moaned as he seated himself to his hilt, then shakily rose up into a sitting position with him embedded in her sex and jerked her tunic over her head. She quickly unclasped her bra and threw it down as well. When she looked down at him, he was the picture of masculine perfection. She rubbed her lips together and savored the intense arousal in the darkness of his pupils and the slight part of his full lips. Then she planted her hands on his muscular chest, lifted herself with her knees and rocked her hips.

"Mm, yesss," Khan let out a deep rumble of satisfaction.

His hands slid up to her breasts and gently pinched her nipples between his knuckles. She clenched on his rock-hard shaft and rocked again. He tugged her nipples again. The pull sent wicked twinges into her body and down to her sex.

"Fuck, Khan," she whispered, "oh, fu-uck!"

Shuddering from sheer pleasure, Molly rocked her hips harder until her slippery sex worked like siphon trying to draw out his orgasm. As she fucked him, she was vaguely aware of her breasts bouncing in his hands but more keenly focussed on the way his hard shaft rubbed against her clit. She tilted her hips and worked harder on that sensitive point. Khan sucked in a breath and swore.

"Molly," he grunted, "hell . . ."

She was close then. Her cunt throbbed. A whirling, chaotic mess of sensations began to coalesce around that point and she could not hold back her cries. Suddenly, Khan jerked up.

"Mm, nooo, not yet," he clutched her waist.

With a quick flip off of him, Molly was on her back. Khan urged her bent knees up, pushed apart her legs and stroked into her with one, deliberate thrust. Then, he pinned her arms above her head and sucked on her nipple.

"Oh, fuck," she swore.

Khan flexed and then slowly pinioned in and out of her sex. His unhurried stroke meant she could feel every slight variation in texture of his musculature as he slid in. It was surreal, almost torture. He sucked hard on her nipple again, causing lightning bolts to shoot through her body. Then he did the same with her other breast. She would have thought it impossible, but the tension within her increased. Blood flooded her sex and heightened her arousal. He continued his slow, excruciating pump. She shook as a different, more potent release gathered in her belly. Again, Khan sucked on her nipples until they felt as achy as her clit, then just as she was feeling the first sparks of her orgasm, he blew cool air over them. They tingled and tightened and that was enough to set her off.

"Fuuuuuck," she huffed.

Her orgasm felt like being socked in the tummy. It was so intense, she bent up against him as spasms shook her from limb to limb. Over and over her sex pulsed. He gave a little buck and she experienced a second shock wave through her system.

"Huh, Khan, oh my god," Molly whispered, "unh."

Khan let her ride out her release until she was a mass of jelly beneath his frame. He left her briefly, rolled her onto her tummy and cleaved into her from behind with his hands either side of her hips. She was so wet that he plummeted all the way down with little resistance. She lay there heaving breaths against the bed, thoroughly spent. His hips and legs were heavy on hers as he sought his own pleasure. Over and over he thrust hard into her body, pushing the halves over her bum apart, until she felt thoroughly plundered. Then, with one raw, claiming thrust, he buried himself in her womb. He let out a low roar as his sac contracted and the length of him pulsed several times.

Seconds later, he sank down onto her and rolled sideways without extracting himself. Molly lay there in his arms with his manhood still twitching inside her sex. Khan kissed the back of her neck. A satisfied groan rattled the flesh there.

"Molly . . . forgive me for that . . . or not. I do not even know if I am actually alive right now or if this is just a particularly satisfying dream."

She swallowed. She didn't want the moment to end. She wanted to pretend that her life was not so tumultuous at that instant, and she hadn't just capitulated to her hormones so easily.

"I-It is not a dream. You are alive but you did technically die a few days ago during an encounter with a Gorn named Slar."

Khan finally extracted himself and urged Molly onto her back so he could gaze down at her. A faint crease wrinkled the flesh between his beautiful, vivid-blue eyes. He smoothed back his black fringe.

"I died?"

She dipped her chin. "You w-were the closest to me. I . . . I burned you very badly. Your heart stopped."

He absorbed that information with a blank face. Then, his eyelid flickered.

"What about my crew? How did they fare?'

"Only minor burns from what I have been told but none of them will come near me except Jorr."

His eyes flicked over her face. A shadow of concern crossed his features.

"It was not your fault."

Molly barely held back tears. "It w-was. This time i-it was my fault. I made things happen. I could have stopped sooner."

Khan's brows drew together in confusion. "What did you make happen?"

Molly explained as best as she was able. Much of it was still confusing. She had disabled the Gorn's weapons and sent them away, very far away. She had just been able to make her thoughts happen and knew she could do it again if she wanted. The only problem was, the red matter was getting harder and harder to subdue. Their antimatter stores were nearly empty.

"How many days has it been?" He asked gruffly.

"F-Four."

His bow lips twitched and his frown deepened.

"We must be nearly at Jevek."

Molly nodded. "We are hiding in a the Ulir Nebula. Jorr is readying his shuttle to take us there."

Khan's eyes narrowed. "Us? As in you too? No. You are not stepping foot off this ship."

She finally scooted slightly away from him and sat up. Her next words were painful to get out.

"I am and what's more . . . y-you will be leaving me on Jevek."