-Chapter Eleven-

Khan quickly selected twenty of his men, opting to leave Otto in charge, Chin as his second. Thirty-one of the colonists were women, forty-one men, not including Khan and Anthea, and twenty of the men leaving took half of the toughest warriors. The women, too, were capable fighters, but a good number of them had expressed to Khan they did not want to be soldiers any longer and had no wish to go along to fight Klingons.

"They're becoming too domesticated," Khan muttered good-naturedly, as he selected a phaser rifle from the table.

"I will make them go hunting," Otto said. "Keep their edge up."

Kati shuffled out of the Reliance, looking tired. Anthea couldn't imagine how the woman felt after what her body had been put through. "What is going on?"

"We're going to hunt Klingons," Khan said. "They''ve attacked a nearby system and I intend to deal with the threat."

His sister frowned. "And leave Anthea here?"

"I don't want to go," Anthea said quickly, before Khan could say anything. "I'm good staying here. I'd like to get a start on decorating the cabin, anyway."

"We should not be gone long," her husband assured her.

Yves appeared beside Kati. "What are you doing out here? You need to rest! Come back inside!"

Khan watched the doctor guide her back to the ship.

"I don't want you to go," Anthea whispered. "What if this is a ploy to capture you again?"

Khan caught her face in his hands, his voice a low rumble meant for her ears only. "That's why I'm leaving some of my people here. If I do not return, you can use the Reliance to come after me. That said, I believe Kirk's desperation to save these people, to clean up after the attack at the least, is very real. This is my chance to strike a deal with him, my love. If I do this, he will leave us alone. I don't believe James Tiberius Kirk is a man to betray his own honour. He is too much . . . how did you put it? Starfleet's golden boy."

A memory flashed in his mind, of the bridge of the USS Vengeance. When faced with Admiral Alexander Marcus's plan to start a war with the Klingons, Kirk could have easily shot the man, killed him to stop him. But he hadn't. He'd wanted to stun him and force him to stand trial back on Earth. It had been Khan who had taken the step to deal with the matter directly. Kirk was too good, didn't have the guts, as Marcus had said.

Anthea pressed her hand to his upper abdomen, then fisted his shirt in her hand. "Okay. But you come back to me this time, alright? You disappear again and I won't sit back and wait. I will hunt you down."

Khan grinned. Not caring that they had Kirk and his crew for an audience, he dipped his head to kiss her rather thoroughly. She sighed, pressing closer. He kissed like no other, with singular and intense purpose.

"I will be back," he murmured against her mouth. "You can be sure of that. Nothing will keep us apart again, Thea. I would raze Heaven and Hell to reach you."

"You'd better. I love you."

He pressed a kiss to her ear. "And I love you, my Thea. Be safe whilst I'm gone. I'll be back soon."

Then he stepped away. Before her eyes, he shifted from devoted husband to warrior, his face going hard, losing all expression. It sent a shiver down her spine.

He gestured to the men he'd selected to join him. They all filed aboard the shuttle. It would be a tight fit, but only the Starfleet officers would complain.

At the door, Kirk and Khan were the last to board. They stared at each other in macho silence, then Khan gave a brief nod and stepped through the door. Kirk paused, glanced back at her, shook head head, and went aboard.

Kati stepped up beside Anthea and handed Nolan over. "Men," she said. "Though I cannot say the blonde one is not pretty to the eye."

Anthea snorted. "Everything isn't what it says on the tin," she muttered.

"What do you mean?" her sister-in-law inquired curiously.

The shuttle lifted off. Anthea ignored Kati's question, absently stroking her hand over Nolan's dark, silky hair as she watched the vessel containing her husband get smaller and smaller as it disappeared into the atmosphere.

The shuttle, dubbled Galileo II, settled on the shuttle bay floor and disgorged its occupants. Khan was the first of his crew to leave the shuttle, and he stood for a long moment, the others flowing around him, as he was dragged back through memory to the last time he'd been here.

He had surrendered on Qo'noS, so that Kirk and his crew would bring him here, aboard this ship, where his own people slumbered, encased in cryotubes that had held them for centuries, within torpedoes that Alexander Marcus had forced him to design.

The ship had not changed, to his eye. It had undergone repairs, certainly, after all the damage dealt to it by the USS Vengeance, first at Marcus's hand, then at his own. But it was still the same ship, still evoked the same vague sense of panic that even now ghosted along his nerves.

He had more control now than he had then. He'd been a prisoner before, sacrificing his freedom temporarily to be near his crew. Now, he was on more even footing with Kirk, and he had his own men with him.

And yet, he could not help a small frisson of fear brought on by the sense of deja vu that standing here inspired.

"Khan?"

He turned cold eyes to Kirk. "My men will need quarters, as long as we are here. Something a little more comfortable than the accomodations you afforded me on my last visit."

"Yeah," Kirk drawled, "the brig isn't meant to be comfortable. Lieutenant, show our guests to their quarters on deck eighteen."

The captain pushed past Khan, issuing orders to his crew. The lieutenant Kirk had addressed, one of the security officers, was a dark-skinned man with a thick mane of black, coarsely-textured hair, heavy brows, and strangely flat teeth. He gestured for Khan and his crew to follow him.

Each cabin had two beds, and a bathroom joined every two rooms. Khan had his own quarters, both as the uneven remainder and as the leader of the group. He didn't miss that there were extra security officers posted near their assigned lodging. It amused him that Kirk thought the additional officers posed any sort of threat to Khan and his people.

Once the men were settled, Khan went up to the bridge to join Kirk. It was the first time he'd been to the lauded and holy command deck. The blinding white of the environment was irritating. He much preferred the bridge of the Vengeance, but that ship was long-since scrap: piece-mealed, Anthea had told him, to repair the very city it had devastated.

He kept his opinion to himself, however, as he stood one step down from the captain's chair, behind the navigation station, hands at his sides.

"We were headed to the Brinthini system next, anyway," Kirk remarked as he settled into his chair. "If we hadn't detoured and come across you guys, I can't imagine what would have happened if we'd be there, unprepared, when the Klingons attacked."

"Died," Khan said flatly.

"Huh?"

"You would have died, Captain. I do not say this derogatorily. It is a statement of fact, Kirk. You and any you had taken to the surface would have been slaughtered at the hands of the Klingons. That is why you need me, is it not?"

Kirk opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. "Right. So. Sulu, how far are we from Brinthini?"

"Uh . . . Hour and a half at warp eight, Captain."

"See if you can push it to warp nine," Kirk said. "Scotty says the core can do that."

"Yes, sir."

Khan arched a brow at Kirk. "Cannibalized the Vengeance, did we?"

"Made a few improvements with some spare parts someone left lying around," Kirk shot back.

At his station, Sulu snickered.

Grudgingly, Khan thought, Score one for Kirk.

It didn't take long to reach Brinthini. When the Enterprise arrived, they found a Bird of Prey still in orbit, indicating the Klingons remained on the planet. As they prepared to head to the surface, Kirk paused in strapping on a bit of body armour, confiscated from some smugglers a while back.

"You seem to be disturbed by something, Captain," Khan said. His own "preparation" consisted of strapping on an extra phaser he accepted from one of the security officers currently passing the weapons out.

Kirk looked at his hands. "What did you do to me?"

"Pardon?"

"Your blood. When they gave it to me, to revive me, it . . . did something to me. Changed me."

Khan's pale eyes crinkled at the corners, but his expression didn't change otherwise. "I would imagine that your senses have improved and your thought processes are faster, as well? Interesting. I wonder if the effect is more potent with blood straight from the source, rather than a derived serum?"

The captain stared at him. "I knew you were a cold-hearted bastard, but-"

"Did you really expect me to have sympathy for you, Captain?" Khan gave him a humourless smile. "After everything, you honestly thought that I would care?"

"You seem to care a lot for your family."

Khan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "My family is of no concern to you, Kirk."

The captain pointedly rubbed the bruise around his throat. "Yeah, you made that pretty clear."

"Then let us make another thing clear, Captain. You may have had my blood taken from me to revive you. That does not make us kin or any kind of relation to each other, no matter the changes my DNA may have made to yours. The only reason I am helping you now is because I saw a chance to gain leverage. A favour for a favour, if you will. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. I have no sympathy for the people of this planet we are going so gallantly to rescue. They are of no real concern to me."

Kirk leaned against the railing. "Uh-huh. And what would Anthea have said if you'd elected to ignore the attack?"

Khan smirked. "You do not know my wife as well as you think you do, Captain. One night with her did not make you an expert, and it certainly did not win you her allegiance. That has always been and shall always be mine. And if I . . . elected to ignore this attack by the Klingons, she would have abided by it. Anthea is a practical woman, Kirk."

"Let's face it, Khan. You're not any happier that the Klingons are in this area than we are. They've gotta know, or at least suspect, about you, right? I mean, we told them John Harrison was wanted by Starfleet, and we hauled you off after you took out their patrol. What'll happen if they find out who you are, what you did to them all by yourself? They probably won't take kindly to a guy like you kicking the shit out of them."

"There were no survivors, Kirk. How could they know it was me?" The dark-haired man clenched his hands unconsciously into fists at his sides.

"We're assuming there were no survivors," Kirk responded. "We didn't stick around long enough to make sure. What if one did?"

That idea hadn't occured to Khan, and he didn't like it. It was further proof that he'd been off his game those few weeks. If he'd been thinking clearly, he would have made certain they were all dead before approaching Kirk to surrender.

He watched the security officers as they left, then turned to his men. "We hunt Klingons, not the Brinthi. Brinthini's people are tall, slender, pale, with blonde hair, purple eyes, and webbed hands and feet. Klingons are large, with dark skin, usually dark eyes but sometimes blue. Most possess central forehead ridges extending from the bridge of the nose, but not all. They also have sharp teeth. Most have dark hair, though some shave their heads, including eyebrows.

"They will be wearing armour, including helmets. Weak points are at armour joints and the sides of the ribcage. Do not aim straight for center of mass as they protect this area with plate metal, and phasers will not work. If you can confiscate any blades, including their curved bat'leth, do so. They may have their own phasers, but they prefer hand-to-hand combat. Leave no survivors."

His men saluted and separated to the two shuttlecraft they'd been assigned.

"My duty is to protect the Brinthi," Kirk said to Khan. "Your men won't do anything to them, will they?"

Khan smirked. "No, Captain. The Brinthi are safe in my men's hands, I assure you."

He ducked into one of the shuttles, to pilot the vessel himself. Kirk, with the contingent from the Enterprise, went for the third shuttle.

A figure separated itself from the shadows in the shuttle bay, watching the three shuttlecraft as they went out through the airlock.

So this Khan was the man they hunted? How very interesting! It made so much sense now, why Marcus had never responded. Why the plan had failed.

And if he had special abilities, all the better. The Klingon High Council would very interested to get their hands on him. But how? They could not take him from this vessel, so how to lure him away?

The spy mentally reviewed the conversation he'd overheard. This Khan had a wife and son, back on the planet they had just left. Family was important to him, both men had stated that several times.

Grinning wickedly to himself, the spy pulled out his communicator.