This wouldn't have happened on his Enterprise. Kirk and LeFevre had agreed on most fronts so far, so keeping professional and civil was easy, even though he envied the man who currently commanded the Enterprise. Now, though, envy began to morph into resentment as he watched LeFevre make choice not only that he disagreed with but which also seemed senseless.

"Once more on the starboard pylon, this should finally do it." As LeFevre gave the order, Kirk tried to be present and not dwell on things that had already been done or on the unpleasant thoughts in his head. Much like the advice he had both given and received recently, worrying changed nothing.

"Firing phasers."

Kirk focused on the screen to watch the beam of energy race toward the the Portland. With no shields, no ability to evade the direct hit an explosive blast burned through the already damaged pylon.

"Starboard nacelle detached." The status update was only a matter of protocol. Anyone could see what happened.

"About time. Bring us around to the other side."

"Captain," Despite his turbulent feelings, Kirk tried to sound professional and impartial. He felt as though he would have a better chance of getting through to LeFevre if it at least seemed like he was thinking with his head and not his heart…even if thinking with his heart had been the right choice on more than one occasion. "If I might offer some advice, given…the recent changes to our circumstances a more assertive strategy might be better."

"Allow me to respectfully disagree, Admiral." LeFevre responded, irritated. "They have no shields, and for now no weapons and no ability to control the only remaining warp nacelle. It's like taking a penalty shot when the goalie isn't paying attention. Not to mention that the surviving members of the crew are onboard that ship. Further aggression is unnecessary and an undue risk at this time."

Kirk considered his options. He could pull rank and take control of his ship, and with his past experience dealing with Khan he'd be well justified. However, no matter how much it hurt to admit it, he knew in his heart that LeFevre was right. This was no time to let his ego get the better of him. "Of course Captain," he conceded. "Carry on."

Maya materialized in the Portland's sickbay and once again was face to face with Doctor T'Ralia. She found it unsettling, to see that plain, unreadable Vulcan face. It made her feel uncertain, like she didn't know where she stood, a clear reaction of shock, anger, fear, or disgust would have been more comforting.

"Doctor T'Ralia," Maya began, not sure if she should if she should ignore their recent history or not. "I'm…surprised you trust me."

"Your actions have made your motives difficult to evaluate, but in our situation we are left with no other choice. It is not ideal, but it is logical."

"Doctor Kimani said you would have more instructions for me?"

"Yes. I trust you familiarized yourself with the ship's layout when you were last on board." T'Ralia began to walk toward a computer console, and Maya followed.

"I did…" she froze when she passed the bio bed where Captain Albrecht lay. Maya's eyes grew wide with shock, her heart raced, and her face felt hot. She wasn't sure if what she was experiencing was an overwhelming sense of remorse, symptoms showing up well before the were supposed to, or some combination of the two. "Is she still alive?"

T'Ralia nodded. "Alive and free from the influence of the Ceti eel, but she has suffered significant brain damage." Even through all that Vulcan logic, Maya swore she could hear an accusatory tone.

Now T'Ralia stood by the computer console and gave Maya an impatient look, but Maya lingered by Albrecht's side. "If she survives with any sense of herself intact, then that's a kinder fate. I want everyone to know that, especially if she has any family."

"If I survive I will inform her wife myself."

"Her…wife?" Maya blurted out, only a moment later realizing that she had committed the faux pas of being scandalized by something that must be commonplace. "I'm sorry, I always thought, well, was always told that there's nothing wrong with…dalliances with whomever you please, anything serious must be saved for someone who can continue your genetic legacy."

"Lessons learned from tyrants who fought wars in the name of genetic superiority and cruelly subjugated those who did not share the same advantages." T'Ralia replied as she worked at the computer console. "You would do well to unlearn said lessons."

"I'm trying…but do you really think it's…logical for her to be married to another woman?"

"Humans are not governed by logic. However, it is not logical to become overly concerned with another person's private life." T'Ralia did not acknowledge Maya's response any further. "Our sensors detect forty augment life signs on board, ten of them are on the bridge. Close contact will be required for viral transmission, as the ship's life support systems include rapid air purification."

"You can't disable it?"

"I lack the proper authorization."

Maya looked toward Albrecht. "Would she be lucid enough if you woke her up?"

T'Ralia nodded. "With assistance, yes."

New plan (yet again): get to the bridge without getting killed or seriously injured. Most had enough forbearance not to act out in anger against their leader's only surviving child, but some of Arjun's closest friends had more rage than self control, and Maya could not predict who she would encounter.

For the second time she walked the corridors of the Portland, this time though she felt much more at ease. Any crew who resisted the hostile takeover were surely…subdued by now, and as for her own kin, Maya was confident that with the right strategy she could avoid disaster…or at least spit in a few faces on the way out, like McCoy suggested.

The first augment she encountered as she turned a corner, and she was relieved at who she saw. Suzette Ling was one of the more level headed ones, more likely to solve problems with her brain that with her fists. It was in that moment that Maya realized she would be responsible for the deaths of people with whom she had no personal grievance. Even though the virus was no supposed to be non-lethal, they wouldn't surrender.

"How did you get here? And why?" Suzette demanded, keeping her distance. Even the least mercurial of the augments seemed to have a healthy amount of distrust for a traitor with a recent history of fratricide.

"I found my own way on this ship before, do you think I'm incapable of doing it twice?" A pause, Maya took that moment to study Suzette's response. She was only slightly easier to read that the Vulcan, but at least seemed receptive. "I came to surrender. I have seen the error of my ways."

Suzette's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you."

"Your opinion doesn't matter nearly as much as my father's. If you take me to him, he can pass his own judgment." After a lifetime of fear and never feeling good enough, Maya finally found the sense of purpose and direction that let her speak with a little of the gravitas and conviction that her father and brother always had.

Suzette relented. "Very well."

Of all the the terrifying things Maya had done over the course of the past day, stepping onto the bridge and confronting her father should have bern the worst, but instead of fear she felt a rush of excitement and adrenaline all rooted in the sense that she was in the right place for the right reason. She also felt lightheaded, unsure if that was from the frenetic energy or an early symptom. Just as T'Ralia had said, there were ten augments in the bridge, but there were also five Starfleet personnel: people who feared death more than abandoning their principles.

"Khan, sir," Suzette announced. "Your daughter has returned to us."

Khan rose from the command chair and turned to face his daughter. Maya saw anger in his eyes, but also a glimmer of fear. No, she had to be mistaken. Khan Noonien Singh was incapable of feeling fear.

"And what, may I ask, is your purpose?" He asked, exasperated. Maya had been kept mostly in the dark about how the battle was unfolding, but she had a sudden feeling that things were not going in her father's favor.

"Contrition," she began. Fear tried to creep in, but Maya tempered it by reminded herself that every moment she was here—talking, breathing, existing—the more she did to set things right. "I have erred and would rather face the consequences than remain a prisoner."

"I find it hard to believe you, after you have done so much to wound me."

"I excepted as much."

"Then prove to me that you are, in fact, contrite. I understand that you have the advantage of having spent time on board this ship, studying it. Put that knowledge to use and bypass the block that Enterprise has in our weapons."

All of her confidence was gone, and all of the fear she should have felt hit her at once. She felt small and powerless, and it showed in her voice. "That's beyond the scope of my experience."

"Always so quick with excuses."

Maya ha no choice but to comply. She walked, slowly, to the console and began to work, hoping that what was being asked of her truly was impossible or at least would take long enough that it wouldn't make much difference. Her head was spinning, fingertips shaking, and stomach tied into knots…another case where she wasn't sure if she felt fear or illness. She tried to block it out and work, her safety could only be assured if she seemed to be marking an earnest effort.

What she was trying to accomplish was theoretically impossible, but there was always another way around, and some of the initial work was already done. When she was a guest aboard this ship—which felt like another lifetime, she should have only been able to access music and novels but managed to get past those restrictions.

The ship lurched, and Maya felt a wave of nausea that she struggled to keep down and sudden tightness in her chest. That…wasn't normal.

"Direct hit on the the port nacelle. Without shields, it can only withstand a few hits."

"Faster, Maya!"

She said nothing in response as she made a few final keystrokes, afraid that if she tried to speak she might start dry heaving or cough. It wasn't supposed to happen this fast, she was supposed to have a few hours to covertly spread disease, but she was rushing headlong to the point past which she could not hope to hide her condition.

"Weapons online."

"Fire photon torpedo!"

The room began to spin. Maya couldn't stay upright any longer. She doubled over coughing and gasping for air. Khan sprang from the command chair and rushed to her side, grabbing her by the shoulders to pull her to her feet. "Tell me what happened." He spoke through gritted teeth. Maya knew her father was capable of incredible rage, but it had never been directed toward her before. "The truth, Maya."

"They turned me into a weapon." No one needed to know that she had volunteered. She coughed again, instinctively turning her head away despite her promise to McCoy to spit in faces. "I should have ten hours left." They also didn't need to know that this wasn't supposed to be fatal. "Maybe a little longer if Mother's genes can offer me any protection."

Khan released his grip, and Maya collapsed on the floor gasping for air. "You," he looked toward one of the Starfleet personnel. "Get her out here…the ready room." He took a few deep breaths to steady himself before returning to the command chair, seething as he stared to the image of the Enterprise on the viewscreen. "Another death you have to answer for, Admiral Kirk. Flawed though she is, she is all I have left."