Down The Rabbit Hole
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: Violence. Some suggestive theme and disturbing content.
Cassandra spent her day going over the logs and reports before their final submission to the Science Division, keeping her mind off thoughts of her dreams or the briefing at Starfleet Command that night. Unfortunately, there was little to do, the crew of the Hotspur were careful and knew their jobs. She could find little error to correct in their reports and mission logs.
After carefully cataloguing and putting them into their appropriate categories, she sent them off with a sigh, leaning back in her chair, as she gazed out over the Bay from her office window, dropping the PADD nonchalantly onto the desk.
It was a fine day, at least for San Francisco, the sky light and clear, and the early morning fog long dissipated by the warm sunlight. Starfleet Command was bristling with activity, but overall a sense of peace prevailed over the scene. The quiet before the storm.
With a reflexive shudder, Cassandra stood and strode for the refectory for lunch, then she would go to the gym. Anything to while away the hours and hopefully tire her out, just enough, for her to sleep undisturbed tonight.
The gym was busy but not full when she emerged from the changing rooms. Spotting a free treadmill, she hurried over to it, stretching her muscles before hopping onto the machine, choosing an intensive exercise programme. The strip beneath her running shoes flared to life, and she began walking quickly.
For the first five minutes she just walked, staring at the various screens displaying interplanetary news and bulletins of general orders from Starfleet Command. Dissatisfied with the noise of voices and panting breaths around her, she tapped an icon on the screen in front of her, displaying her vitals and the exercise programme she had chosen, and a pair of earphones dropped from the console.
As she plugged them in, a cool, feminine voice spoke. Welcome Commander Mason. Music option selected.
Just as the programme began to speed up, forcing her into a jog and raising the elevation of the treadmill to mimic hill running, music from 21st Century Earth filtered into her ears, blocking out all the annoyances around her. She smiled and settled quickly into a rhythm, transitioning easily from jog to full sprint.
However the easy rhythm she fell into while running didn't distract from the latest nightmare, as she frowned when images began to roll across her mind's eye, unbidden.
Cassia…Khan…a grey room with bright lights…Noonien Singh…blue, blue eyes piercing into her core…the crack of fragile bone as her fist collided with it…the snap as she severed a spinal cord…gunfire…skin against skin, mouth against mouth…
"Commander? Commander!?" a voice snapped her out of her dream-like reverie, and her head turned at the urgency in the voice. A gym attendant stood, eying her like she was some dangerous animal or a freak, as she stopped the programme and tore her earphones out.
"What is it?" she barked.
"It's just…some people were worried about you, Commander," the attendant began sheepishly under her glare. "You've been running full pelt for close to an hour."
Cassandra glanced at her readout and saw it had indeed been an hour since she started her run. But what alarmed her, and seemingly the other personnel in the gym were the vitals being displayed. She had been running for 66 minutes, and her heart rate had barely lifted.
That couldn't be right. "There must be something wrong with the display," she muttered, turning to the attendant decisively. "Run a diagnostic, I'll do some weight training instead."
"Yes, ma'am," the attendant nodded, before turning but Cassandra still caught the uneasy look in his eye as he glanced at her.
"Wow," one of her fellow runners remarked, as she hopped off the machine. "Trying to break a record there, Mason?"
Cassandra just glared at him, before turning and striding away determinedly, but not to the weights room. She needed to be alone.
The sauna was deserted as she slipped inside, the steam obscuring most of the room. Finding her way to a bench, she slumped down on it, pressing her head back against the wooden panelling, her eyes closed as moisture collected in the hollows of her body.
What the hell was that? Running for an hour straight, at full sprint, and she'd barely broken a sweat. She was physically fit, certainly, but not to that extent. What was happening to her?
Checking her wristwatch, she could see it was still several hours until the briefing. She sighed, just wanting the hours to hurry along, as she closed her eyes again, her muscles relaxing inadvertently.
She was asleep in moments.
She knew this would happen. She hadn't known when or where, but she knew it had, ever since she'd first felt his intrusive, covetous eyes on her wherever she went.
She lashed out and kicked at him, and he flew ten feet away, but he was no pitiful human. He was like her.
She didn't even know his name.
Within seconds, he was back up on his feet and coming at her. She dodged and feinted, looking everywhere for one of the others, or even one of the guards, but the practice hall was deserted. The sick cowards were probably watching on the cameras.
A feral growl welled up in Cassia's chest. She did not want him, she would not be taken by force. If she belonged to anyone, it was to Khan.
But even speed can sometimes fall to strength, as she feinted to one side, but he anticipated her move, grabbed her waist and threw her down on the floor, smashing her head into the concrete. She struggled but he pinned her with his knee, and she could feel his breath against her neck, with a shudder of revulsion.
An enraged roar broke through the bloodlust and anger fogging her senses, and the pressure on her back was gone, as she twisted over to see him standing there, over her tormentor, eyes ablaze as he pinned the struggling Augment to the ground. No one could match him. His eyes met hers as he pinned the man down, and she scrambled to her feet at the command in his. He beckoned to her, and she came forward, ignoring the torn sleeve of her fatigues and the bruises forming on her waist.
"Your right, Cassia," he purred, and she smiled, as fear dilated her attacker's eyes. Anger turned to lust as she looked up into Khan's eyes, his hands brushing hers on the man's neck, blocking off his oesophagus so he could not speak. With a perfunctory snap, she severed his spinal cord, and he slumped beneath Khan's hold. "You did well."
"He would have forced me," she replied, coolly. "I have no mercy for those who take what does not belong to them."
"And whom do you belong to?" he asked, his voice a caress of its own, as he stood, taller than her, towering over her slight form. She smiled boldly, and raised a hand to his face.
"You know very well who, my love," she purred in her turn, stroking the harsh line of his cheekbone, trailing her palm down to his heart. She felt the primal growl build up in his chest, as he stepped fully over the cooling corpse of the Augment who attacked her, and reached for her. "We mustn't. Not here, where the guards could see," she hissed, as his arms twined roughly around her waist, pulling her forward. She could feel his arousal and it stoked her own.
"Come with me," he murmured, taking her hand and pulling her away.
He took her, through the myriad back passageways of the compound, to the women's showers, and Cassia noticed that the security cameras were disabled. Khan smirked.
"Your doing?" she remarked pointedly, and he inclined his head.
"They needed maintenance anyway," he grinned, before tugging her inside. With his hold on her hand, he spun her around and backed her up against the tiling, his lips ravaging hers in a primal, possessive kiss.
Cassia grabbed his shoulders and returned it with full force, her blood up with the fight and Khan's possessive rescue. He had allowed her the honour of killing the bastard who tried to take her without consent. Cassia was no fool, she knew the female Augments on base were desired both by the guardsmen and by the male Augments, but none had been fool enough to attempt to force another.
Until today, and let it serve as a warning.
Khan ripped the zipper of her fatigues down, his mouth marking her neck above the tank top beneath, his hands forcefully moulding her body to his. She groaned into his shoulders, strong and broad beneath her palms, before pushing him back, into the showers.
"I will destroy every trace of that insect on you," he growled against her ear. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back and offering her neck as their combined strength made short, messy, work of their clothing. The water came on automatically, and it rained down over them, drenching them in moments.
"Do it," she gasped against his lips. "Get his stench off of me, wash it away. Make me yours, Khan."
He wrenched one leg over his hip, pressing himself against her as he steadied her against the slippery tiles. She clasped him tightly, smiling as his teeth made a small series of biting, sweet caresses that felt more tender than a thousand kisses. His hand trailed down from her hip, sliding over her wet folds and into her, making her rock against his hand.
All memory of the attack faded under Khan's claiming hands and kiss, as he began to press into her, replacing his fingers with something far more pleasurable. Cassia eagerly rolled her hips against him, instinct guiding her where her memories of another time had been erased, and they paused when he was fully within her.
"My love," he whispered against her lips, before they kissed, gently, an affirmation. This had been building between them for months, ever since they first met and only the guards' watchful eyes had prevented them from acting on their shared desire and attachment earlier. It would, no doubt, be construed as weakness but they underestimated the strength of the two Augments. They were no weak humans who could be torn apart with as much ease as a piece of paper, but genetically superior. Khan belonged to her, and Cassia belonged to him. No deity could help whoever tried to separate them.
They moaned in unison as they moved together, hips rolling and undulating in a primitive dance, their lips never separating, as they breathed each other in, every moan and gasp, every sigh of their names and the need to claim and be claimed.
As her climax grew, Cassia tore herself away from her lover's mouth, mouthing down the line of his neck and shuddering with pleasure as he did the same. As her climax washed over her, the hot water almost a torture for their sensitive skin, twice that of a human's when aroused, she bit down on his shoulder, and as he roared her name, she felt his teeth puncture the skin of her neck.
Marking her as she had marked him. One hand buried in his sodden, dark hair, she closed her eyes and clasped him close.
"You belong to me now. Never forget it…" Khan's voice rasped hoarsely against her ear, as she shuddered-
"Commander, are you alright?" a voice woke Cassandra from her sleep, as she started upright. Two women, one human and the other Orion, watched her concernedly.
"It's not a good idea to fall asleep in a sauna," the Orion continued, her nose flaring as she no doubt smelled the arousal Cassandra's dream had evoked. Stricken and confused, she pushed them aside with a barked "I'm fine!" and rushed out of the sauna to the changing rooms.
As Cassandra strode towards the Daystrom building, the city lit up around her and bustling with life, she forced all thoughts of her dream in the sauna out of her head, no matter how many times her head replayed those last few words.
Usually details of her dreams faded within a few hours, but in the seven hours since leaving the gym, not only could she easily remember every detail, she saw them again when she closed her eyes. Gritting her teeth, barely daring to blink, she smoothed down the grey panels of her formal uniform and walked inside the towering, cylindrical building.
Once she was through security, she took the turbolift up to the top floor. As soon as the doors swished shut, she let out a sigh of relief. Ever since that last dream, she'd felt fragile, taut with some unknown inner tension, as if the cool, cold mask she had always relied on to remain sane was slipping away.
"You belong to me…"
That voice, seemingly as cool and calm as she, but the husky tone, the undertone of danger and warning and possessiveness. Who was he?
The turbolift slowed, and she snapped out of her thoughts, unnecessarily smoothing down her uniform again before she forced her hands away with a glare at her own reflection in the turbolift doors. She never became nervous, so why start it now?
Up ahead, in the corridor, were two, tall and muscular backs, one black-haired and the other fair as the sun. She could just see the tip of pointed ears and from the bickering, she surmised these were the infamous Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock. Or rather, both commanders now that Kirk had been demoted.
They paused when they heard the heels of her boots against the marble flooring, and Kirk's formerly sullen face instantly perked up. Cassandra mentally rolled her eyes.
"Why hello, Commander?" he began, walking backwards to keep up with her as she walked past Spock with a cordial nod that he returned.
"Mason," she replied shortly. "Excuse me."
As Kirk stopped trying to keep up with her, she breathed a sigh of relief, just as she heard his muttered "Ouch. Well that's it. Lost my ship, my command and now my touch. The world is ending."
"I do not understand how 'losing your touch' constitutes the ending of the world-?" Spock replied and even Cassandra smirked when she heard Kirk's reply.
"Never mind, Spock."
As she entered the meeting room, she scanned the occupants for Tregannan, her tall, dark-skinned commanding officer, and found him talking to Admiral Pike. He nodded to her, and she walked over just as Admiral Marcus called everyone to order.
As they sat down, she sensed someone's gaze on her, and irritated by the thought of Kirk trying to flirt, again, she glanced up with a glare, not to see Kirk but Marcus watching her, calculatingly and with a hint of unease in his cold eyes.
Refusing to be cowed, she stared back until he sighed and started the briefing. "Thank you for convening on such short notice. Be seated."
As everyone sat down, their screens flared to life, and Cassandra felt a jolt as a familiar face filled the screen, while Marcus's voice droned on in her ears. "By now, some of you have heard what happened in London. The target was a Starfleet Data Archive, now it's a damp hole in the ground, 42 men and women are dead. One hour ago, I received a message from a Starfleet Officer who confessed to carrying out this attack, that he was being forced to do it by this man. Commander John Harrison."
Cassandra felt the air leave her lungs like she'd been sucker-punched in the gut. "You belong to me now…"
"He's one of our own, and he's the man responsible for this act of savagery," Marcus continued but Cassandra barely heard him now, her eyes set on the cool, blue eyes of the man looking up at her from the screen. She knew him… "For reasons unknown, John Harrison has just declared a one-man war against Starfleet, and under no circumstances are we to allow this man to escape Federation space. You here tonight represent the senior command of all the vessels in the region, and in the name of those we lost, you will run this bastard down. This is a manhunt, pure and simple, so let's get to work. Do I have your attention, Commander Mason?"
She was jerked from her distraction, and met Marcus's eyes, and was disturbed to see the glee hidden in them. A slight smirk lingered on his lips, so tiny but still there. Something amused him.
"Yes, Sir," she replied shortly, sitting up a little straighter as Tregannan glanced at her in concern. "My apologies, Admiral."
Marcus inclined his head, almost sardonically, making her bristle, before he continued the briefing. "Earth's perimeter sensors have not detected any warp signatures leaving the system so we…-"
Cassandra zoned out again, Marcus's voice becoming background noise under the confusion of her own thoughts. That face, that body, she knew them. How could the man she had dreamed of be there? In the security images on her holoscreen?
"Cassie, what the hell's got into you?" Tregannan hissed at her, and she glanced at him and saw his eyes widen in concern. "What is it?"
Cassia…
"I know him," she breathed. "I've seen him before."
Just as Tregannan opened his mouth to speak again, Marcus's booming voice asking what Kirk was thinking punctured their conversation.
"Why the Archive? All that information is public record, if he really wanted to damage Starfleet," Kirk began, and her head snapped around to face him, a stray curl of hair escaping her chignon. Her brain snapped back into focus, and cold realisation washed over her as her ears detected the oncoming noise of rotors approaching the building. A jumpship. "This could just be the beginning."
"The beginning of what, Mr Kirk?" Marcus asked.
"Sir, in the event of an attack protocol mandates that senior command gather, with their captains and first officers, at Starfleet HQ, right here in this room," Kirk finished, and all the commanding officers glanced at one another uneasily.
"He would know that," Cassandra breathed. "If he was one of us, he would know that." The sound of rotors was getting closer.
"It is curious Harrison would commandeer a jumpship without warp capability-" Spock agreed, as Cassandra stood, her blood thrumming with energy as the lights of the jumpship pierced the glass windows of the room.
"He's here," she whispered, just before all hell broke loose.
Phaser cannon fire filled the room, as Cassandra threw herself aside on instinct, broken glass showering the senior officers as screams and cries of pain filled the air. As she landed hard, knocking the wind from her, she looked sideways to see Tregannan, dead, his eyes wide and glassy, his side smoking from the direct hit. A detached sense of grief filled her, and she grabbed her phaser from the holster at her hip, shoving her dishevelled hair from her eyes as she scrambled for cover before taking aim.
The jumpship hovered right outside the briefing room, as the few officers unharmed fired back, joined by the security teams outside. They were dropping like flies.
She spotted Kirk running for a side corridor, a phaser rifle in his arms, and threw herself out into the melee, dodging phaser bursts with an agility which startled her. She saw him shooting at the jumpship and something within her screamed No, and she raised her hand, shooting at the jumpship's blastshield.
The smoke and flash from the phaser cannons cleared, and she stood, phaser raised, ready to fire, as she locked eyes with the man in the cockpit.
Even with the distance between them, she could see chiselled features, pale skin painted almost gold in the light from the firefight, dark hair swept back from his face, his cold eyes locking onto her with a predatory glare.
Then he stopped, his eyes widening, as something akin to pain and disbelief flashed across his face.
Despite herself, despite the rage burning inside of her at the death of Tregannan, she took a step forward, then snarled and fired off shot after shot, but it did little damage against the alloy metal of the jumpship, except to leave phaser burns.
His mouth formed a single word, as she stepped closer, rage making her reckless, that made her stop short. Cassia…
Another word dropped from her lips without her volition, and she shivered. "Khan…"
Suddenly the jumpship shuddered, juddering about as it struggled to stay airborne, and Cassandra realised that Kirk had tied the hose from an extinguisher to his rifle and threw it at the rotor, as it was sucked in and the engine shredded itself to pieces along with the rifle. The jumpship began to rotate and fall, swaying from side to side, as she glimpsed Harrison…Khan, her mind whispered, fight to steady it. His eyes snapped back up to hers, and she glimpsed his hands flying across the readout displays in the cockpit.
Just as she felt the tingle that always came just before beaming somewhere, she saw the same curls of energy engulfing Harrison's body, as his form disintegrated from view and the jumpship fell from sight.
Unnoticed by the few survivors of the attack, Cassandra's body disintegrated too.
She gasped, shuddering, as she fell to her knees on rough dirt, cold winds ruffling her ruined hair, the ground scraping her bare knees. Transwarp beaming…her mind murmured, as she coughed.
"Cassia…" a voice, smooth as silk and seductive as sin, made her freeze as she looked up slowly. She wasn't alone.
To be continued...