{ Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order }

Chapter Five Pt. 1, "First Names & Middle Names"

Joachim* and Khan walked purposefully down a hallway that was bright and lined with long windows, almost as if the IIT were defiantly bucking any attempts at secrecy.

"-mostly Joan, Beth, Helen- then Chavez and Lopez too, but I doubt they'll act on it," Joachim cracked his knuckles anxiously.

"They're young and headstrong," Khan answered. "Cubs trying to assert their positions. We'll keep batting them down, they'll fall into place as usual."

Joachim nodded, pausing before he added tentatively, "But in my opinion, Joan and Helen are ticking time-bombs, khan*."

Khan cursed passionately, "So fucking reckless- but it's only jitters...Once the Intake comes, they'll move out of 'reaction' and into 'action'. The new order, the new 'normal', will help them settle down."

He thought for a moment, his expression a rippling reflection of his thought process. "It's these constant, blatant acts of individuality that could get them Gray Juiced*- Chavez and Lopez too..."

They rounded a corner and Khan grabbed Joachim by the shoulder, his lowered voice somber as he ordered, "Look in on Bouhler*, Keniclius*, and Dr. Singh- make sure no one is thinking of terminating our girls. Talk to Etta, she wants to comfort everyone, that will bring some peace to the young- Stripes* and Gray-Juicing are very painful to witness in the beginning."

Joachim acknowledged, giving a small salute as he walked ahead; he turned when he noticed Khan was lingering behind.

"Aren't you coming?" He asked, rolling his shoulders in an attempting to shake off other worries. "After med check-ups, everyone will want to be briefed on the Intake, and then there's still the Georgia assignment."

"Later," Khan dismissed him with his regal stance and a wave of his large hand. "I have more recon on our 73, this Intake...Just keep an eye on the girls and the twins."

Joachim shuffled restlessly. "If you keep missing the med exams, they'll-."

"I know what I am doing, Joachim," He asserted authoritatively. "Bouhler can come after me if he wants to, but I'm quite sure the twins have already torn out the battery of his motorized wheelchair."

Joachim snickered- but as he turned away, he spared Khan a concerned glance from over his shoulder.

Khan waited for the hall door to hiss closed behind Joachim before he moved toward a small door. It was partially obstructed by a column and in one of the rare blind spots of the security cameras, so few people ever gave the closet a second thought.

Except him, and one other.

Inside, between two large water-heaters, there was barely room for two people.

Once the closet door was securely closed, Wrenne moved out of the shadows and threw her arms around his neck. Khan took her fragile frame in his arms, cupping the back of her head in his hand to bring her face close, so close to his for an eager kiss.

Always a desperate meeting- satisfying once Khan finally felt her soft lips against the chapped skin of his own. He heard Wrenne's heart rate spike, her breath catch in her lungs as he fiercely pressed her mouth open with his tongue. So wet and warm. They were parched for each other.

He inhaled, swallowed that incredible taste of woman- an indescribable scent, a taste of softness, sharpness and tartness like grass-

Her hands raked through his hair, again, desperate; greedily raking her nails down the line of his jaw- the light pain of her scratches so pleasing Khan sighed and she gave a satisfied, aroused murmur. The light marks on his skin quickly healed and vanished.

Wrenne trailed her fingers down to his chest where she sensually circled his nipples, nipping them, teasing them erect.

Damn, she knew he loved that.

Khan pressed her against the tingling barrel of the water-heater- he wanted their hips close, to grind his body against hers- he was so eager, he popped the buttons on her uniform, shoving his large hands down her breasts- teasing her nipples between his thumb and forefinger- teasing her the way she had teased him.

A gasp of surprise, a groan of unbridled arousal. His lips took her nipples and lightly rounded the hazel-colored circle with his teeth- a light, pleasing pain that rose Wrenne's back in an arch as he started to suckle.

She crooked her clever fingers in his belt loops and undid his trousers. He pushed his hands down her jeans, popping open another button and pushing her pants below her hips- feeling the soft silk of her thighs against his bare skin- the hard pressure of his cock against-

"Easy-" Wrenne was breathing ragged, her cheeks flushed as she ran her hands up his neck. "I'm still not very good at sending images...and besides that, we're going to drive each other crazy."

"Your mental messages have gotten so much stronger," He nibbled her earlobe.

"It's easier to send visuals than words..." She couldn't help but giggle, though it wasn't long before Wrenne's expression grew darker. "But all mental messages ave gotten more simple since- since they started the injections."

Just the mention brought tears to her light gray eyes.

"I'm sorry," Wrenne shivered, putting her face in her hands.

Khan took her in his arms and frowned-

-her body was so cold against his. He could feel the sharp, unnatural bony angles in her wrists, her hands, see the harsh crooks along her cheeks bones.

"Oh, Shere," Wrenne gave a lonesome, dry sob. So much was communicated in those two words.

He hadn't liked the nickname "Shere" when he had first heard it, but now that he was more accustomed to being called by a name rather than his code, he found it opened a door for intimacy to sweep in like a warm breeze.

And most intimacies were luxuries neither of them could afford.

Wrenne was tall for a natural human, yet she still didn't even rise to the level of his heart. He dragged his lips along her chin, her cheeks, to where he could press his mouth against her ears and whisper: ""They're taking you, Wrenne. IIT will have you out of Re-Ed by the end of the week."

The ever-present fact- the necessity of secrecy never left him.

Talk close. Talk softly.

"Those images already drove me insane," He referred to the erotic scene they had shared- if only in their minds. Khan buried his face in the crook of Wrenne's neck, brushing his cheek along her skin as he ran his kisses along the delicate, curved line of her throat.

"Me too," She pursed her lips in a cheeky, pleased smile. "Shere- can't we just find a way-?"

"No," Khan emphasized severely, placing a distance between their hips so resisting was more tolerable. "It is illegal for Augments to engage in intercourse unless-."

"I know, I know, you've told me the laws- but how would they know? If we're careful, there can't be-."

"Cerridwen, I would take you now," Khan placed his arms on either side of her, his voice seemed to take on an arousing, deep tone that vibrated with such passion that Wrenne felt her body vibrate pleasantly with every sound. "I'd do more than anything you could manage to send as a mental image. I'd make you mine, brand you mine here in this drab closet or in the largest open field in your American frontier."

He looked her up and down with his tiger eyes blazing from behind his usual light irises; then backed away with a discouraged, frustrated expression.

"There are frequent, random medical examinations- practically every body part and fiber checked- Hayagriva would manage to find the smallest strand of your DNA on me or vice versa- We have our chance to be together now...I'll tell you- my brothers and sisters- we have a plan. Trust me when I say we won't be living here much longer- so we'll wait- otherwise, we cannot afford the luxury of sex."

But Khan still kept hold of her and the few intimacies they could manage, kissing her gently, tucking her face delicately against his shoulder- but placing a distance between their hips that was easier for them both to tolerate.

Damn the luxury, damn the cost they couldn't afford, that they both couldn't rise to the desire in their hearts and bodies-

But luxury comes from civilization, and Hayagriva was a nation of savage eyes. Even in a utility closet, their privacy- their lives- were under the Sword of Damocles.

"They check you over that carefully?" Wrenne was shocked. "-But-but we've kissed, we've held each other- how haven't they already suspected-?" Wrenne began but Khan took over.

"They don't check you the way they examine me. I managed to combine chemicals into the IIT-grade hand soap which burn skin cells from my hands and lips-."

"Doesn't that hurt?" She gasped.

"You've seen how I heal," He reprimanded irritably. "It burns for a moment and then it's gone. Finally, the laundry soap takes care of any dead skin cells from touch-."

"That...is a strategy- you've really thought hard about this. You really do have a plan in the works..."

"Of course I do, I love you," He somehow said it with a matter-of-fact tone and his usual passion.

It didn't exactly come out of no where, though the timing wasn't how movies or books had described.

But it was still perfect, even if Wrenne's reply was late.

She had wanted to imprint his words into her memory.

"I love you, Shere," She slipped her arms around his chest and nuzzled her face against his chest.

Khan grumbled something- still frustrated, still pouting as he did when his plans were complicated by the government.

"What?"

"Khan," He specified.

"You picked! You picked your name!" Wrenne nearly forgot to soften her voice as she jumped up and down excitedly- weak as she was, she managed one jump, but wobbled and fell the second time.

Khan noticed practically before she wobbled and caught her gently in his arms.

She was so unnaturally thin now that he worried it could be even easier for his grip to accidentally break one of her bones.

Her genuine, albeit unbridled, enthusiasm was infectious and as Wrenne peppered his cheeks with kisses, Khan chuckled and smiled, even spun her carefully in 3/4th of a circle which was all the space the little cupboard could make.

"-wait-," Wrenne paused and studied him. "-is that-? You're feeling bashful! Oh!" She whimpered happily.

"Talk closely, talk softly," He reminded her.

"You're blushing, oh my god, that is so adorable!" She giggled, pinching his cheeks tenderly and teasingly. "I love how the red bridges over your nose too!"

Khan rubbed his nose a little self-consciously but mostly in an attempt to bring out another delicate, feminine coo of Wrenne's.

"Rest assured, my name has nothing to do with that tiger of Kipling's-," Khan started with teasing agitation.

"I know, I know, it's because Noonien and Hiyachem always call you that-."

"Joachim," Khan corrected her. "Hi-ah-kim-."

"Wait what was that- that dark, sad feeling there?"

"Nothing," He lied, then re-strategizing, he added: "...Nothing I want to discuss now."

"...Okay," Wrenne learned not to argue since the length of their rendezvous were always uncertain.

Talk close. Talk softly- not a lot of time-

"They had me in psych and 'ethic' exams all day and they don't seem happy- how can you be sure they'll transfer me at all?" She started to panic, her voice cracking. "I'm not a soldier, Sher- Khan," Wrenne corrected herself. "They have testing that proves it, they must, and I can't hide my morals from all their tests- but I can't survive where I am and I won't survive in IIT-!"

"Stop it," Khan took a moment to grip her arms tightly. "You have survived and in IIT, you will live more than you will survive." He spoke passionately in the tone that braided lines of soldiers behind him. A voice that wrapped the mind in reassurance. A voice that made her picture Khan holding the world in his hand.

"Of all the abilities we have, empathy and mental talents are not among them," Khan explained. "Dr. Singh knows- and since escaping China by the skin of their teeth, Bouhler and the entire government know as well- if they had had access to your talents, that massacre could have been avoided. Our understanding and manipulation of emotion is more limited than anyone expected- you are our missing gear- a specialist in an area where we are lacking. They will transfer you if only because failure or weakness on any level is unacceptable."

"But even if IIT takes me- I- I won't be able to kill someone."

He took her chin.

"You can."

Wrenne shivered and he felt himself grow defensive- because there was that side of himself that seemed to revolt the more delicate side of her- the civilized side.

"...but you won't have to," Khan lied.

Persuade, persuade.

The need pulsed through his system-

Persuade, persuade.

She was dying in that "education" bullshit. He could see the life and intellect draining from her face, more so each time they had their rendezvous. Wrenne's eyes were ringed with dark violet circles- her cheeks hallow, now her body so cold- the bones of her arms, chest, and neck protruded from her skin.

He had always worked to keep his people as far as possible from the Education block, despite Bouhler adjoining the building with IIT's just before Noonien's death.

"What you think of as 'individuality' comes at a cost. Ignorance and education also come at a cost. This," General Bouhler held up Noonien by his brown hair, gray matter* still matted into his scalp, a trickle of still moving from his ears. "…is the cost."

The general paused to emphasize his point.

"Lives are the cost," He continued. "Order is the cost. I am protecting the order here and if I must-" Bouhler cracked the neck of Noonien's corpse. "-snap some spines, so be it."

Khan held Helen tightly against him to muffle her exclamation when she heard the bones crack.

There were 36 of his brothers and sisters in the room, but he could only hold one.

"This was 451-9N," Bouhler shouted, again holding up Noonien's head by the hair- though now the head dangled limply at a sickening angle."If I hear anymore of this 'nicknaming', I will placeevery one of you on this table!"

He smacked the table's surface for effect.

Once the company was excused, Khan lingered behind, plummeted over the white-padded table where Noonien laid, and stabbed Bouhler in the throat with the ballpoint pen the general always hooked in his front pocket.

Khan stabbed deep, dug deep into the larynx, grinding the inkwell-pen's sharp tip into Bouhler's trachea.

As Khan walked calmly out of the room, leaving a bloody handprint on the white door, he could hear the blood and air gurgles from the pen's broken shaft as the general struggled to breathe where he laid, spasming on the floor.

And that was when Khan chose his name.

Khan Noonien Singh.

It was a miracle that Wrenne's brains hadn't scrambled already- but if she was left in the brain-washing program, her death would be absolute- mentally and physically; such genius, something so much better would be wasted and gone.

Those eyes too, the intensity of such a light gray shade- her long, black hair- soft, olive skin- soft breasts that carefully hugged over a fluttering, ladybird heart.

It would all be gone.

The lightning strength that resonated from her touch, that kept her standing when her body would not stand.

Such power and command of emotion.

Her strange, intriguing perspective from a land claiming to be free.

And that scream- the war cry she'd screeched into the night when she'd emerged from the Satluj River- there was the sign of a warrior he would gladly mold.

It was why he hadn't been able to kill her.

In that dark night of thunder and shadow, he'd seen lightning burst from a girl covered with mud and defeat.

A sudden force so striking, that he now realized he had loved her ever since.

Such power and will to survive, courage and dedication to feeling emotions rather than trying to outrun them-

To possess such superior understanding of the psyche-
Even the geneticists hadn't been able to engineer such an ability in the race they had created.

Invaluable. She was invaluable, and for more reasons than one.

Khan had calculated as such before he'd even perceived the beauty of her fragility, her delicate nature like no living thing he had encountered.

The gentility of her shocked, horrified reaction to things as common as death, murder, and war.

She had never been forced to live in a freezing demented world where all things were dying and killing and scheming just to guarantee another day of survival.

Yet now she had, and now she would continue to- but not without him beside her.

And not for much longer.

Wrenne shivered against him and Khan steadied her.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about that grief I can read from-?"

"No, not today," Khan rubbed his forehead in stress.

"It was something t-terrible," Wrenne continued anyway, shaking from the intensity of his emotion. She would have gone on, but a yawn broke her last band of energy.

Khan kissed her forcefully again- felt her push against his push, as weak, exhausted, and starving as she was.

There was where her war cries were- probably how they'd stayed alive in prison and then Re-Ed.

She could live in the savage order, he reassured himself. She had survived so far in the Ed building, and in IIT, living was rarely diminished to just surviving.
At least it seemed so to him.

"I've made investments in you-," Khan declared. "I've bribed and persuaded every faction- even strangers have invested in you- deals they cannot afford to back out of."

Especially since the head Hayagrivan military officer, General Bouhler, was now wheelchair-bound and had to speak from a device he held to jagged stitches along his throat.

{ Continued in Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order, Pt. 2 "Last Names" }

Notes:

*Notes and Translations:

-*Joachim (Russian name), ah, Joachim... I always felt so sorry for the Joachim of WoK. Other than Khan himself, Joachim stuck out to me particularly more than the other semi-anonymous crew in WoK because Joachim dared to speak his mind and back-talk a man as complex, violent, and unpredictable as Khan. Because of this, I always imagined Khan and Joachim would be close friends and war buddies in their youth.

-*"khan", like in the notes on chapter four, "khan" is an ancient (Middle-Eastern, Asian, Eastern European) military or sovereign title. Ex., Kubla Khan, Genghis Khan.

-*"Gray Juiced", a colloquial term for a Hayagrivan form of torture and execution. See Khan's flashback to Noonien's death. Specifics will come as the story unfolds.

-*"He thought for a moment, his expression a rippling reflection of his thought process." Ugh, I couldn't come up with a better description than this...Ricardo Montalbán and Benedict Cumberbatch both showed such great expressions for Khan- whether they were the expressions he wanted you to see (fake and real) or the ones that you'd accidentally see when he'd lower his guard.(Example gif)

I'll work harder to come up with a better description...

-*Bouhler, since this character is quite- well- evil, I named him after Philipp Bouhler (11 September 1899 – 19 May 1945) who was a senior Nazi Party official. Together with Karl Brandt, he developed the Nazis' early euthanasia program in an attempt to pursue creating a "master race".

-*Keniclius, as in Dr. Stavos Keniclius, a scientist who lived during the Eugenics Wars on Earth (original timeline), according to Star Trek canon. He worked to clone a perfect specimen to create a "master race". While he wasn't ever directly connected to Khan, I figured since this is an alternate timeline I could mix things up a bit.

-*Stripes, by which I mean the old-fashioned lashings from a whip.

-*Gray matter, i.e. brains.