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In front of James Kirk’s eyes was the sleeping death.
He had feared this moment for a whole year. Had feared that man he had never seen and that was now there, only a meter from him.
Khan Noonien Singh.
He wasn’t at all what he had imagined, from what little the other Spock –not his, the old one with the warm hands that looked after them from a distance– had showed him. Stay away from that man, he had said in that timeless voice of his. Stay away, for he will rob you of some things you won’t be able to recover.
The man sleeping in front of him didn’t look like a villain. Death was handsome, actually. He had toned muscles, beautiful, shiny black hair and tanned skin. Jim found himself silently admiring him, as spellbound as he was afraid.
He had tried to avoid the ship. When Spock, at his side, informed him it was the S.S. Botany Bay, he had ordered his crew to ignore the old abandoned carcass and to go on, his heart hammering in his chest. But they just had to detect the impression of lifeforms from inside the ship. And what was he supposed to do under such circumstances? Under what pretext could a Starfleet Captain abandon people in need in the middle of nowhere, dooming them to be tender snacks for an imminent demise?
He couldn’t use the other Spock as an excuse either. His Spock did not approve of his exchange of information with him, no matter how the old man insisted it was only on matters of life and death.
(When young Spock pointed out to the old one that he had meddled in order to make sure he and the Captain became friends, the old Spock had simple said: “Precisely”).
What could James Kirk say? This man is going to be the cause of Spock’s death and therefore we should let him die? No, he couldn’t say that. Especially not to Spock. And now he was in front of him, tranquil, sleeping like the prince out of a fairy tale.
Then McCoy turned on the lights.
Darkness disappeared. McCoy and Scotty stared, unable to believe their eyes, the countless sleeping people that filled the ship. But Kirk only had eyes for one, the one he had only seen once, older, gray-haired, inside the other Spock’s mind.
Uhura was by his side and looked as spellbound as he was, her dark, feline eyes fixed on the sleeping man. The Captain wondered for a moment what made her stare. Did she also know that Spock, whom she adored with all her soul, was in danger because of this man’s existence? He made a mental note to ask her later on. As far as he knew, Uhura and the older Spock had never spoken directly. No, the other Spock was a secret only he, Spock and Scotty shared.
She didn’t even have to be on board the Botany Bay, Jim reminded himself. He had hailed someone called Marla McGivers, but his historian had, apparently, been another victim of Nero’s attack to the Enterprise a year before and Starfleet hadn’t bothered to get him a replacement for such an unnecessary post, seeing the lack of personnel they were currently ailed with. So, Uhura –whose grades on all her Terran History classes had been outstanding, or so had Spock said, a sliver of pride on his eyes – had been added to the landing party as a substitute to the missing McGivers.
Marla McGivers. Marla McGivers. Yes, Jim had seen something about that name in the other Spock’s mind. She had something to do with Khan, the wrath of Khan, the pain of Khan. But he couldn’t remember what it was.
“He moved,” the woman by his side said. He turned to look at her for a moment. Her eyes were wide, her body stiff. He turned back to stare at him.
Indeed, Khan was moving. Shaking, trapped inside tendrils of sleep that refused to let him go. Khan was suffocating.
“He must be their leader,” said Scotty, suddenly by his left side. “He was programmed to wake up before the others, as soon as there were some signs their ship had been found.”
Jim already knew he was their leader. Jim also knew his name.
“Something’s wrong. He’s choking,” said McCoy suddenly. “Something’s not right with the reanimation mechanism!”
Jim froze. The sleeping prince was dying before his eyes and he knew he had to do something, help him, order his damnation, but he had to do it now. He had no time, however, as Uhura was faster.
The glass separating Khan from Jim suddenly exploded. Uhura had broken it with her fist, the same fist Jim had always been sure would hurt quite a lot if she wanted it to. Well, he now knew it could.
Uhura, unknowingly, had released the beast of Jim’s nightmares. The beautiful beast.
McCoy and Scotty hurried to help her, and soon, before them laid the lukewarm body of a living man, that breathed and was slowly gaining his mobility back. Almost naked, the effect of his body was not slight. Jim’s eyes were fixed on his full lips as they moved. He leaned down to hear him, and his breath caressed his ear.
“How… long?” Khan muttered, barely conscious.
“How long… have you been sleeping?” asked Jim. Khan nodded almost imperceptibly. “Almost two centuries,” he replied.
Khan said nothing more, as if he believed he was still dreaming. As if he couldn’t believe his own words. Then, Jim knew that he had no choice. He took his communicator and ordered their prompt return to the Enterprise. They would take the beast with them, Spock’s death right there; they would take Khan to where he could sink his fangs into the man easily. But he looked so harmless, so lost… and James Tiberius Kirk was a Federation Captain.
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Uhura couldn’t take her eyes off him, sleeping once more on one of sickbay’s beds. And Jim couldn’t take his eyes off her, unable to understand what happened to her, or, maybe, understanding a little too well. He approached her carefully.
“So, you’ve got a fetish for older men, Lieutenant?” he asked her, half joking and half serious. More serious than joking, he tried to hide his worry under his mask of a careless fool. She frowned.
“Of course not, Captain It’s just…”
And there they were again, those big, dark eyes losing themselves in the face of the man who could steal her world. That could steal it from them both.
“It’s just that… I was thinking. He’s going to feel so alone and lost when he wakes up. He’s fascinating, but he makes me feel weird.”
Fascinating. Had it been any other circumstance, Jim would have laughed. It was an effect of spending so much time with Spock, he was sure. It happened to him too.
The whole crew had ended up liking Spock. Yes, sometimes they also wanted to strangle him, especially when his Vulcan stoicism made him become a spoilsport or when he displayed his annoying know-it-all manners in front of people who knew what they were doing, but deep inside everyone had noticed a long time ago that he was far more human than what he wanted to admit to the world. That he admitted to himself.
No, they couldn’t lose Spock. Jim couldn’t lose Spock. Ever.
“I guess,” was Jim’s impersonal response. “On Starbase Twelve they will know how to help him. That’s where we are taking him.”
Uhura turned to stare at him, taking her eyes from the sleeping man for an instant. He saw a question on her ideal face. Jim always felt a little breathless because of it.
“Captain… Jim, permission to speak freely?” she asked, and he granted it immediately with a nod. “It is not your nature, acting so coldly towards someone in need. Is everything ok? Do you know something about this man we don’t?”
Uhura, beautiful Uhura. Smart, sharp Uhura. Observant Uhura. Jim couldn’t ask for a better crew. Even if sometimes – like now – that fact was against him.
“Let’s just say that… it’s not someone I want near my crew, Nyota. We’ll help him, yes, because it’s our duty, but to be honest I will feel better when we are far away from him.”
She didn’t say anything, nor did she ask anything else. It had been a while since she had learned to respect his way of thinking and decisions that sometimes made no sense. Only he, apart from Spock, had earned the right to call her by her first name. She bit her lip and looked at Khan silently.
“He looks so lost and lonely and so… out of his time. Yet, he radiates strength. I don’t know how to explain it, but… he makes me curious,” was the last thing she said, shaking her head, before she left sickbay. Jim read between lines. He fascinates me; he attracts me.
No, Uhura didn’t like older men. She liked special men. Different. Unique. Like Spock. Or like Spock’s death.
(Or maybe it was just like she had said? Lonely. Lost. Just like Spock.)
Jim followed her with his eyes for a moment, until she disappeared behind the door. And made a grave mistake: he turned his back to the enemy.
Suddenly he had a scalpel to his neck.
“So, you were listening,” he told the man behind him without losing his cool. Destiny had a funny way of turning things around. Maybe if he killed him, he wouldn’t kill Spock.
“You know who I am,” said the sleeping prince, now completely awake. His voice was made to command, to be obeyed. The arm that held him was no weaker than a Vulcan’s.
“Something like that,” Jim answered, completely still. “I don’t know who you really are, but I know what you are capable of.”
“Oh?” And what is it you think that I’m capable of?”
“You can kill me,” You can kill Spock, killing me in the process.
Khan’s laughter rang through sickbay, alerting a distracted Bones who was, at that time, checking some of his files in search of a similar case to see how to proceed with the people still sleeping on the other ship.
“I like you, boy. You are brave. You need guts to command a ship with that baby face of yours… or is it that men in the future don’t age?” Khan said as Bones entered the room. Of course, his scalpel had disappeared and the arm that had been gripping him tightly seconds before was now gently embracing his shoulders in friendship. Had that been on purpose or not, Jim didn’t know.
Luckily, Bones wasn’t an idiot and was distrustful by nature. And he had a serious obsession with keeping Jim out of trouble.
“You should be in bed,” he told Khan while he dragged him back to bed by the arm. “I don’t remember giving you permission to get up yet, damnit!”
Khan followed him obediently. Jim knew that Bones wasn’t strong enough to force him if he didn’t allow it himself.
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Jim had secretly and ridiculously hoped to keep Spock and their unwanted visitor away from one another. He knew a man from the past was a source of information that no scholar could ever resist, but he also knew that responsibility was above all to Spock, hence, he gave him so much work that day that not even he would be able to finish it in time.
He had, of course, underestimated Spock’s multitasking abilities. The Vulcan had perfectly managed to do his job and learn as much as he could about the Sleeper Ship and its mysterious leader.
“The only information he accepted to reveal about himself was that his name is Khan. Any later attempt of interrogation failed as the subject claimed he was thoroughly exhausted,” Spock informed him, reading his PADD deeply in thought. Jim almost wanted to cry. You won’t tell me anything I don’t know, Spock. Please, just stay away from him… please. “However, further research showed that he is Khan Noonien Singh, one of the super humans conceived artificially to be the rulers of Earth during the Eugenic Wars.”
I already know that…
Spock laid his PADD over his lap and fixed his eyes on Jim. “He is an old Terran dictator, Captain. The only one of them that was not brought to justice as a result of his mysterious and unresolved disappearance.”
I already know that.
“Good job, Spock,” he said, trying to smile naturally and giving him one of his usual friendly pats on the back, the ones Spock hated with all his soul but would never ask Jim to stop. “Starbase will know what to do with him. Meanwhile, I’ll have him under constant watch. He is not a guest anymore, now he is a prisoner.”
Spock looked at him for a moment, a question shining in his eyes. But he said nothing and went back to concentrate on his work.
Of course, Jim already had Khan under surveillance from the moment he had threatened him with a scalpel in Sickbay. Fortunately, he now had an excuse without the need to tell anyone of the incident.
He sent a memo to all Commanding Officers and Bridge Personnel about the identity of their now prisoner. He wasn’t in the mood for a meeting. No. The only thing he wanted was to get to Starbase 12 as fast as they could and to get rid of all those sleeping people. Get rid of the Ripper.
He was becoming increasingly obsessed with lurking near Sickbay. They hadn’t been able to relocate their prisoner, as he insisted he suffered constant ailments because of his failed awakening and Bones didn’t want to take any risks. Noble Bones, heart of gold. He could have his own killer bleeding in front of him and he would go to his rescue. Jim envied him that.
Jim wanted Spock’s beautiful death dead or locked somewhere where he couldn’t hurt them. He feared him, and that made his urge to destroy him almost unbearable.
The fact that Uhura was also constantly lurking around Sickbay didn’t make him feel any better. Nor that Khan smiled at her every time he saw her. That he complimented her hair, praised it, that he admired her strength, her profile so like Cleopatra. Yes, Jim knew Uhura was beautiful, he knew she was strong and brave. But Uhura was also his, the Enterprise’s, and he wasn’t about to give her to someone like him.
He grabbed her by the arm, on one of such occasions, before she peeked into Sickbay and locked himself and her on Bones’ office.
“What do you think you are doing, Nyota?”
She immediately realized that it was not an official conversation. They weren’t Lieutenant Uhura and Captain Kirk, they were just Nyota and Jim. So she allowed herself to lower her gaze and fix it on the ground.
“I don’t know,” she answered. She was sincere. “I know he was a dictator… a Napoleon, a conqueror, an oppressor. But he is a leader, Jim. He’s intelligent, he’s… attractive. He makes it loving him so easy. He makes you want to follow him.”
Jim didn’t answer. She bit her lip.
“He wasn’t so bad, Jim. Out of all of them, he was the most benevolent, the one that best took care of his people. You’ve already seen how he acts, so proper and elegant. When I don’t visit him he spends the day reading. And the only thing he has asked of us is that we wake the people on his ship. He cares about them.”
Jim didn’t know what to tell her. He knew she was right. The prince she had unintentionally woken had been anything but kind and polite, except for the incident in Sickbay that could be attributed to fear or initial disorientation.
If Khan could feel fear, of course.
“What does he read?” he asked, prey of a sudden sense of dread.
“Manuals,” she answered. “He was an Engineer before he was a Dictator. He likes ships… they fascinate him. And since he has no clearance to tour the Enterprise, he reads the manuals.”
There was a hint of begging in her eyes. Let me show him the ship, Jim. Let me make him happy for a while before you turn him to the Starbase and they steal his freedom forever. Before he goes away and I can’t see him anymore, let me make him smile. Unfortunately Jim couldn’t grant such a thing. No, not Cerberus prowling around his ship without a leash.
“Ask me for anything but that, Nyota…”
“Why? He’s behaved in an exemplary way until now, and it would only take two hours. We can take someone from Security with us. Jim… please.”
Under any other circumstance, Jim would have caved. Uhura was always prudent and could handle any situation that went out of control. But he was not about to endanger Spock, not even for her.
“No, Lieutenant. It’s final.”
And she knew their negotiations were over, since she was no longer Nyota.
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It only took a few moments for Khan to open the sealed doors of his cell once he was transferred to it. It only took one swing of his arm to render Cupcake unconscious. He was too strong for that ship manufactured under normal human standards. He was superior, improved, perfect.
It didn’t take too much for him to find the transporter room and return to the Botany Bay –he had memorized all of the Enterprise’s blueprints and knew her like the back of his hand, even if he had never walked around her– where he awoke the rest of his surviving crew.
Seventy two perfect humans besides himself. He smiled. There was nothing he couldn’t get now.
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By the time Jim read the report of a quite dizzy Chief of Security, hell had already been unleashed upon them.
“Uhura, red alert. Alert the whole crew,” her ordered immediately. She rushed to obey, but communications were jammed. The same with the lift and any other access to the Bridge.
Jim immediately knew the whereabouts of the fugitive.
“Commander Scott, answer,” he called, praying deep inside that the communications with Engineering weren’t blocked as well. An agitated Scotty answered.
“They are here, Captain. All of them. They’ve taken over the ship.”
He then heard an impact, and the severe and velvety voice of Khan enveloped it all.
Jim stared at Uhura while Khan explained how he was going to slowly suffocate them if they didn’t surrender. He looked at her, she who stood by Spock’s side with a pained expression… afraid of suffocating or feeling betrayed?
The air became thick and heavy. It wouldn’t enter his lungs as it should, but it got into their eyes and right into their brain. Everything became slower, hotter, it was like being trapped at the bottom of a mercilessly warm ocean.
Before he lost consciousness, Jim looked at Spock, the Spock he had tried to protect against all odds. At least it looked like they would die together.
That was my big twist of the future, huh? Instead of dying alone, Spock, we all die with you. Cool. The other Spock won’t forgive me for this, was his last rational thought. His last thought, however, that enveloped him inside the oceanic waves that pushed him into unconsciousness was that, while he’d rather no one else on the ship had to die, he was a little happy to die along with Spock.
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Spock woke up in the Meeting Room, tied to a chair. The Bridge crew, Dr. McCoy and Commander Scott were by his side. Neither Jim nor Uhura were there.
He tried to loosen the ropes which bound him, but realized that the feeling of dizziness was still there. A quick survey of his surroundings told him he was the only one feeling that way.
“You were injected with something to keep you tame, Spock,” said Dr. McCoy, sitting by his side. “You better try not to move.”
“Where are the Captain and Lieutenant Uhura?” Spock asked in a whisper, struggling against a wild sleepiness that insisted on biting his eyelids.
“Jim was not with us when we woke up,” answered the doctor. “As for Uhura…” he gestured with his head towards the silhouette standing a few steps behind Khan, between his men and dressed with the same golden uniform.
Spock, for once in his life, was speechless.
“It seems she switched sides,” whispered McCoy. “I saw her alot around Sickbay, but I never thought she would fall that hard, to give her back to her own people.” The doctor was silent for a moment. “I need a drink,” he said finally. “You know, Spock? I always thought you two had something, Uhura and you, I mean. Jim told me he saw you two kissing on….”
“The Lieutenant and I are not in that sort of relationship,” Spock interrupted, his irritation almost evident. Jim would have immediately noticed it, but Jim wasn’t there with them. He wasn’t there with him. “I would ask you to cease to make any comment about my personal life, Doctor.”
It was true, Uhura was not his mate. She might have been if neither of them had any position of importance aboard the ship, if it wasn’t for the non-faternization rules. They had discussed it a year before, the night Spock decided to join the crew. She had kissed him one last time, had smiled at him and had told him that maybe when the mission was over, if they both still wanted it.
Spock didn’t know if he still wanted it. Sometimes, Spock wanted time to rush by him so he could go to the Colony and help his people. He would marry T’Pring as had been agreed and he would become an exemplary Vulcan. But at other times, he wanted the opposite: not to lose the freedom of space, and those humans with wide smiles and easy laughs that accepted him as one of their own despite how different they really were, that forgot that he should not be touched and gave him friendly pats on the back. Uhura was there. Jim was there too.
Jim… an enigma too big for Spock’s world.
Vulcans did not have friends, nor enemies, it was said. Those were illogical terms to establish preference of a person over another. There were other type of bonds, however, that were accepted in Vulcan society more out of tradition than logic.
The bond of blood brothers, of soulmates.
Spock could say without a doubt that Jim and himself were friends. Spock enjoyed his company and felt uncomfortable when he saw him in danger. Spock wouldn’t think twice before offering his life to save his. But he would have done that for Nyota as well. Did it mean she was his friend too? And yet, what he felt for them was in no way of the same nature.
Jim was his friend, but he was also something else that was not the same thing that Uhura was or had been. Jim was something closer, more like the warm feeling of his mother’s hands on his hair or the approval shining on his father’s serene unreadable eyes. Jim was family. Friend and brother.
“Aye, the lassie would be incapable of such a thing,” Scott said interrupting his thoughts. “She’s surely planning something, you’ll see.”
Then, Khan put his hand on Uhura’s shoulder and smiled at her. She smiled back with a hesitancy Spock didn’t know she was able to show. He felt something inside his stomach twist at such a scene.
“You are the Communications Officer, Uhura,” said that strange man from the past. He couldn’t understand the fascination he had casted over Nyota. He only felt an illogical sense of anger towards him. “Please, turn on the screen.”
Uhura went towards the screen and turned it on. There, Jim was locked on Sickbay’s decompression chamber. Choking. Probably suffering horrible tortures because of the chamber’s effects, preparing for the imminent vacuum.
“Join me and I’ll let him live,” said Khan, staring into his prisoners’ eyes one by one, until he stopped on Spock’s eyes.
How many people apart from the ones that had seen Spock lose control that time on the Bridge and almost kill Jim could say they had seen an emotion so clearly reflected on the Vulcan’s face? Almost none. Khan saw it now, pure rage poured from his eyes like lava, but Khan didn’t know it was not normal. Khan had never seen a Vulcan before.
“Join me, Mr. Spock. If you do, I’ll let the Captain live. If not you will be next on that chamber.”
Was this the reason Nyota had joined him? To save him? To save Jim, perhaps? Or were those human emotions he saw in her eyes honest?
He didn’t answer. For once in his life, he wanted to use his Captain’s colorfully rude language. He wanted to stand up and paste that hateful man against the table, crush his throat until he cracked his vertebrae and obstruct his trachea beyond repair.
From behind Khan, Uhura pleaded to him with her eyes. Say yes, Spock. Please.
Seeing no answer was forthcoming, Khan addressed the others. “If only one of you join me, I will let the others live. Just one.” It was obvious he was losing his patience with every passing minute.
“What, is it not enough for you having Uhura on your side?” said the good doctor that had never been good at holding his tongue. “Wasn’t your manual reading enough for you to understand how to run this ship and that’s why you need us?” he barked a laugh. “What a superman. That’s the limit of your genetic superiority.”
The next sound that could be heard was the slap across the doctor’s cheek. Uhura looked away.
“Khan, it’s not necessary for me to see this, is it? Can I leave the room?” she begged, her eyes devastated. She didn’t want to be there while her friends were being hurt.
He let out a disappointed sigh. “I had hoped you would be stronger. But go.”
Spock saw Uhura leave and leave them to their luck. Then, he saw the doctor by his side, lying on the floor with a broken nose and still tied to his chair. On the screen, Jim couldn’t be seen on the small window of the decompression chamber. Probably he had lost consciousness already.
Then, they lost transmission and the screen went blank.
“The Captain is dead,” stated Khan.
And Spock was no longer capable of keeping control.
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Jim had culed up on the floor of the chamber to await his death. In the end, he was leaving before Spock did. Good. He hoped in his soul Uhura didn’t betray the trust he still felt for her, even if he had seen her at Khan’s side while he was locked in there.
No… Uhura would never betray them, not even out of love. Or maybe because of that, because of love, she wouldn’t. No, Uhura would protect Spock. She wouldn’t let him follow him in death.
“Take care of him, Nyota,” he mumbled in between misconnected thoughts. “He’s a little hard-headed, but he’s a good guy… a great guy, actually… a little hormonal if he gets angry, but he doesn’t get angry that much…”
There, in his enormous coffin he had to admit to himself how much that alien had come to matter to him, with his pointy ears, ridiculous haircut and expressionless face, he who had almost killed him twice. Because he mattered to him, oh, how he mattered, to the point he was now happy to die in his stead, to twist the hand of destiny exactly in that manner.
The other Spock. Would he be proud of him when he found out? For some reason he doubted it. He could only imagine him sad, even more than usual. Spock – his Spock – had a great tendency to blame himself on everything. The other Spock wasn’t so different and would, not doubt, end up doing the same. He would regret having told him about the sleeping death and his dark fate.
He didn’t like to think about that.
Instead he started to think about the first time Spock had risked his life for him (it was his duty as First Officer, he had told him), the first time he had woken up in Sickbay with Spock watching over him by his bedside, the first time they had played chess (you play a very illogical game of chess, Captain), the first time he had gotten him to call him Jim…
Yes, those were good last thoughts. He almost smiled.
Then, out of nowhere, the pressure returned to normal and the doors behind him opened. He fell back, but didn’t hit his head against the ground as he would have expected. Someone’s lap was under his head and a pair of loving arms held him.
“Jim, are you okay?”
Uhura was crying. Jim had never seen her cry before. Not she, who was so strong, who always earned respect and even intimidated some of the cadets.
Jim fell apart in laughter. He was happy, so happy. “Nyota… I knew it. I knew you couldn’t betray us,” he told her, smiling. Ah, how he loved her.
“I never told him my name,” she said, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand and trying to smile back. “I had to do it, or he would have tied me up with the others and no one would have been able to do a thing…”
He silenced her with a gesture. “I know, Nyota. And the rest will understand too. Now… what do you say we go and kick some genetically improved asses?”
She laughed.
They waited together, hiding by both sides of the door until Spock was brought. The Vulcan had a black eye (blackish-green, really – Jim would have mocked him had they been in any other situation), a split lip and hand-cuffs rather than ropes.
Jim gave the man pushing him a quick knock on the back of the head. Uhura repeated the action with the back of her phaser. They wouldn’t afford to shoot and risk the alarm, unfortunately. But it was enough to leave the man dizzy enough to release Spock and then a Vulcan nerve-pinch sent the guy to the floor.
“Spock? Are you okay… what happened, did they torture you?” asked Uhura, the guilt threatening to split her into two once more.
Spock remained silent. Jim was sure he saw his cheeks a little bit greener than usual.
“We have to go back to the Meeting Room to help the others,” decided Jim, not wanting to waste any more time in conversation. He felt a strange mix of joy at being alive and know he was right about Uhura, rage because the state they had left Spock in and then happiness again because he was alive.
“Negative. The crew of the Botany Bay has been neutralized in the room. Khan Noonien Singh has escaped to Engineering,” said Spock. Jim and Uhura stared in shock.
“Who neutralized them? They were supermen!” asked Uhura.
“Commander Scott released gas as soon as he could escape.”
“God bless him – Scotty,” said Jim. “How did he manage to sneak away?”
Once again, Spock’s cheeks became green. “It is highly probable he managed to escape while… the prisoner and his men tried to detain someone.”
“You?” asked the Captain, a hint on undeniable joy on his voice. “Spock… you started a fight with Khan?”
Spock lowered his eyes, visibly humiliated by his new loss of control. “Affirmative, Captain.”
And at that, Jim fell prey to the happiest laughter while he kissed his First Officer’s cheek without any reservation.
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They found Khan locked in Engineering. The struggle was short; Jim’s and Spock’s team up was hard to beat. Meanwhile Uhura deactivated the system overload Khan had programmed in a last attack of rage an impotence to destroy the ship.
Now it was Khan’s turn for him and his men to be tied up in the Meeting Room. Uhura stared at him with something akin to pain in her eyes. Jim was so ridiculously proud of her he could have kissed her too, but he had the impression it was even a worse idea than kissing Spock. Because that had certainly been a bad idea. If his First Officer ever looked at him on the eye again, he would feel lucky.
He approached the awoken death, who didn’t frighten him anymore. He had defeated him once, he could do it again, if he came back to threaten him. The problem now was, what to do with him and his people? Uhura and Spock were staring at him, no doubt wondering the same.
Jim sat down, his eyes fixed on Khan, the slaughterer of half of his world (or whole world, really, at this point, who could tell? After the decompression chamber he wasn’t so sure) and asked outloud.
“What do I do with you now, Khan Noonien Singh?”
Khan smiled to himself.
“The most logical answer for any Captain would be to turn me in to the nearest Starbase. Wasn’t that what you wanted to do in the first place?” He sounded defeated, but not even in defeat was he going to give Jim the chance to see it reflected on his face.
Jim knew he was right. But there was another option, one that avoided the chance that the man would be his enemy, that gave him and his people a second chance: he could leave them all on a planet that allowed the development of another civilization, a wild one that belonged to no intelligent race. The Fleet didn’t even have to know about it, surely, if he told Admiral Pike, he would have no problem covering his ass again.
It was just that such option was the one he liked best, the one he would have taken if he didn’t know what he did. The option the other Jim had surely taken in his own time and dimenssion, the one option that had led to the older Spock’s death. Who cared if they had found a way to bring him back? The pain and the loss he had seen in his mind were as horrible as death itself.
He had to find a third option. He had to be, once again, unpredictable.
No one questioned him when, one by one, he put the crew of the Botany Bay to sleep once more with one of Bones’ hyposprays, only to return them to their place inside their ship.
Khan was staring at him in horror, unable to believe his eyes. Jim left him to the end. Seconds before it was his turn, he approached him to whisper on his perfect ear.
“Remember this, Khan: I am your enemy. Only me. I ordered this. If you ever free yourself again and decide you want revenge, look for me and no one else. My name is James Tiberius Kirk, Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise.”
And with those words, he let him go.
Uhura was given permission to say goodbye to him, to her prince that now had to be returned to his tower and put back to sleep for another couple of centuries. Jim ordered they were left alone for a few minutes. Whatever they told each other, he never knew nor did he try to find out, even if he overheard Khan tenderly whispering to Uhura as he came back.
“I knew you were a strong woman.”
Jim himself put him to sleep, afraid of unleashing the wrath of Khan on someone else that wasn’t himself. During the whole process he made sure Spock was fairly busy elsewhere doing some more unnecessary chores.
Khan closed his eternal eyes once more and fell asleep, the old fallen dragon rendered into its millenarian slumber a second time. The sleeping beast. The latent death. Morpheus’ grip claimed him back, dragging him into his shapeless abyss.
Jim didn’t regret his fate. The fear came back, eventually: fear of not having done the right thing, that someone else found the ship someday, fear that Death would catch them one day after all, at some point in his life, that handsome Death that could tear him apart with its beautiful claws.
But his fear was a distant one, one that didn’t worry him all that much.