-Chapter Twenty-One-

None of the ships in orbit had been able to get a message to the Klingons on the planet about the impending attack. Even if they had, they wouldn't have been able to do much about it.

Khan landed the ship on the outskirts of the horrendous settlement the enemy had set up. He had waited until the Enterprise's shuttles, containing the rest of his people, arrived some distance away before he'd set down. Now, he and his strike team left the ship.

"I like this ship," Otto told Khan.

"Then it's yours," Khan said. "You should have no trouble flying it, you watched me."

"Ja." Otto grinned. "Two ships will be nice to have."

Khan waited until his people were gathered, all of them armed to the teeth. He ignored Kirk and the Starfleet men for the moment.

"There are approximately three hundred Klingons here," he told them. "They are holding Anthea and Nolan near the base of those cliffs, over there, if the scans I conducted are accurate. Scorched earth procedure applies. Take what weapons and equipment you like. If you find Anthea or Nolan-or any other humans held captive, though I do not think there are any-bring them to safety and alert me."

"Ja, Khan," Otto said. Then he thumped his hand against his chest and shouted, "Khan Vishal Ki Jai!"

The rest of his army repeated the war cry, and again. It sent shivers down Kirk's spine, though he didn't know what it meant. He could understand, in that moment, why the Augments had been condemned. Why Khan had been the man to rule so much of the Earth before the normal humans fought back.

Khan turned, sword raised, and screamed, "Hama mauta lānā!"

Well, Kirk thought as the army began its charge, if they didn't know we were coming, they do now.

The Klingons had been waiting for Khan to come. That was, after all, the purpose of taking his family and putting them under guard. The enemy had planned to capture him and use him, make him pay for the deaths of those in the patrol that had died at his hand.

They hadn't, however, expected for Death to come for them.

Leading the wave of warriors, Khan was a thing possessed. He didn't care about how many Klingons were between him and Anthea. Their number didn't matter. He would get there, and he would take her out of this place.

He dispassionately noted, as he pulled the gore-slicked blade out of a Klingon's chest, that they were living in squalor. Their buildings were wrecks, and the place reeked of excrement and rotting meat. It was digusting, and for a race that had achieved so much-whether Khan liked them or not, they were an advanced species-it was a very sad commentary on what the loss of Praxis was doing to their people.

A Klingon charged him, bat'leth raised, yelling in its language. He couldn't tell if his attacker was male or female, nor did he care. Khan ducked, slicing the alien's legs off right at the knee with the katana. The blade could cut through a sapling nearly the size of his wrist. Bone and cartilage weren't a problem in the slightest.

When the Klingon dropped, shrieking, to the ground, Khan whipped the katana around and silenced the scream permanently.

"Khan!" Otto shouted. "More come from the north!"

"Deal with them," Khan growled. "Anthea is my priority."

"Ja, Kaiser!" Otto saluted and gestured to several of the men, who followed him towards the reinforcements.

Khan looked around at all the ramshackle huts, grouped in clusters amidst rocks and trees. It was, he noted with an annoyed sigh, going to be aggravating having to search them all for his wife and son.

The problem with being confined to a hut with a toddler was that firstly, the toddler got bored, and secondly, he wasn't completely potty trained. He managed well enough, but he was also only seventeen months old, very nearly eighteen-Anthea wasn't sure how long she'd been here, or what day it was, so it could have easily passed the six-month mark-and accidents happened.

Such had been the case that morning. Anthea had had to bathe Nolan as a result and wash his clothes. Her son hadn't appreciated that one bit, crying hysterically when she doused him with the icy water. But his clothes were mostly dry now, so she struggled to get him dressed again.

He wasn't having any of it, grouchy and irritable, pushing at her with his little hands when she tried to put his shirt on him. "No!"

"Nolan!" Anthea let out a frustrated sigh. "I am not letting you run around naked around Klingons."

Not that Nolan understood that. She tossed his shirt down on the pallet and sat, pulling at her hair. At least she'd got his pants on him.

Where was Khan? Surely he'd come searching for her. But . . . it was a large galaxy, and she didn't know if the Klingons had, say, left a ransom note. She'd been a bit unconscious at the time.

She could only hope and pray that he came soon. And when he did, she knew that the destruction he'd level on the Klingons would make what he'd done to Starfleet look like a child's prank.

"Please, Nolan, let's put your shirt on," she said with a sigh. She felt tears well in her eyes; she was tired of everything, and Nolan's grumpiness was more than she could take right then.

When he realised he was making his mother cry, Nolan cuddled up to her leg. "Mama!" He grabbed the shirt and held it up. "No get dwessed!"

Anthea made a very small amused sound and pulled him into her lap. He relented and let her put the shirt on him, even holding his little arms in the air for the sleeves.

She was pulling the second sleeve into place, his little hand not through the wrist hem yet, when he suddenly twisted, eyes going big.

"Dada?" he chirped. "Dada come?"

"Soon, baby," she murmured.

Anthea got his hand pulled through the sleeve and his shirt tugged into place over his small belly. He giggled when she tickled him lightly.

Then he rolled out of her lap and dashed for the door, patting it with his small hands. When Anthea scooped him up, she realised there was a lot of commotion going on outside. There were shouts in Klingon, and the sounds of phaser fire. The cavalry, she guessed, had arrived.

She looked at her son and said, "I think you're right, Nolan. Daddy's here."

Quickly, she crossed the small room and set him on the pallet. "Stay right here, sweetheart," she whispered. "Don't move."

There was a loud scream outside, and Nolan's chin trembled. "Mama? Mama!"

"It's alright, baby. Mummy's just going to the door. Remember, don't move!"

For once, Nolan obeyed completely. He sat down, pressing his hands to his face, over his eyes. Anthea crept over to the door. It wasn't locked, because it was guarded, and where was she to go? She inched it open, seeing that her guards were still there, but their focus was directed towards the battle. Neither paid her any attention.

The door was now open enough for her to get an arm out. She crouched, noting the one on the left wore a blade on his right calf. Anthea gingerly reached out and drew it out of its sheath. When enough of it was clear, she wrapped her fingers around the handle, yanked upwards, flipping it in her grip as she did.

She drove the blade up, between the guard's legs, driving it into the space where thigh met groin. The blade was big and curved, and it severed the femoral artery. Blood gushed over her hand, making her grip on the knife slippery.

The Klingon fell with a groan, and the guard on the right turned. Anthea lashed out as he did, catching him across the back of the knee and severing his hamstring, or whatever the equivalent tendon was in a Klingon. She jumped to her feet and he stumbled against the door, shoving it open as Anthea backpedaled.

She narrowly missed the fist he swung at her head. Throwing herself back into the hut, she braced for him to charge her.

He roared and came after her, as expected.

Two steps in, he went "Urk!", stiffened, and fell face-first to the dirt. There was an identical knife to the one she held embedded in the back of his skull.

Anthea looked up from the very dead Klingon to see Khan standing in the doorway. He was covered in blood spatter, a katana in one hand, the phaser rifle at his side.

She let go of the bloody dagger. It hit the ground with a faint thud.

"You're late," she said, and burst into tears.

Khan dropped the katana and launched himself across the space between them, gathering Anthea into his arms. Ignoring their mutually gore-covered state, he kissed her with everything in him. All other concerns were utterly eclipsed by the bone-deep need to hold her.

She clung tightly to him, holding him as close as she could. Then she wrenched away, gasping, "Nolan!"

"Of course." Khan slipped by her to retrieve their son, who was frightened beyond belief and crying at the top of his lungs.

The toddler reached for Anthea. "Mama! Mama!"

Khan passed him over and she took her little boy, heedless of the blood covering her, hugging him as tight as she dared. Still, her eyes were only for Khan as he picked up Sulu's katana.

"See, baby?" she said to Nolan. "I told you Daddy would come get us."

Khan took her by the elbow, flashing a brief smirk. "Hurry. Let's beam up to the ship and get you into the medbay."

"You brought the Reliance?" she asked, though she knew it was a stupid question.

"No."

"Then what did you bring to-"

"I brought the Enterprise," her husband said, as Kirk appeared.

The relief on the younger man's face was immense. "Good, you found them. C'mon. Scotty can't get a lock on anyone in this area. Too much iron in the cliffs, he says."

Anthea followed, murmuring soothing things to Nolan as they nearly ran, to find an open area to beam up from. Her hand was in Khan's, their fingers laced together. He kept looking back, as if checking that she was really there.

There were no words for how she felt right then. He really had come for them, just as she'd known he would. And, going from the sheer number of dead Klingons, he'd been just as angry as she'd believed he'd be.

"Khan!" Otto was suddenly there. "Some have escaped. Should we hunt them?"

"Yes. You know how to fly the ship. The coordinates are plotted. All you need do once you're free of the atmosphere is set the computer to autopilot, as I showed you."

Otto nodded. "Yes. We will meet you back home."

Kirk pulled out his communicator. "Scotty, we got her! Can you beam up two at once?"

"You mean the kid, too?" Scotty's voice responded. "Och, that's easy . . . But not three."

Reluctantly, Khan let go of his wife's hand.

"Okay, Mr. Scott, beam us up!" Kirk ordered.

The white light of the transporter surrounded them. Nolan wailed in fright and buried his face against Anthea's shoulder.

When the light faded, they were gone. Otto shook his head at the wonder of it and turned his attention to hunting the remaining Klingons.