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Prologue

Fate

I always imagined that the first person I saw when I awoke from my slumber would be one of my crew members. My dreams were filled with visions of them as I slept, and I longed for the days when we would be reunited once more. Unfortunately, fate decided a different path for me, and when my eyes first opened, I was greeted by a foreign presence, one I had never seen before.

Analyzing him at once, I determined the male who awakened me to be a human, near fifty years of age, and a powerful male, due to the smirk on his face and the way he held himself. His short brown hair and weathered face supported my deductions, and as I was guided out of my chamber, he began to speak to me. A part of my brain focused on what he was saying, and later I would go back and remember what he was telling me, but I wanted to look around. I had not seen the world in quite some time, and I desperately wanted to find my crew. Surely this man had awakened all of us?

Looking around the small, sparsely furnished room, I noticed two men in uniforms standing by the door. Guards perhaps? Human guards? Smirking at the idea of humans being able to take me on, I took a few steps forward, a little unbalanced on my weak legs. The man who woke me didn't seem to like being interrupted and told me to stop, but I was determined to see what was beyond my quarters. Taking another step, I smiled as I regained control of my body, and without a word, lunged past the guards and through the doorway in one swift movement.

The first thing I noticed was the shine of everything. All around me technology sparkled and people moved like clockwork. If I wasn't looking for my crew, I would have stopped and observed more, but I desperately wanted to make sure they were all right. A firm hand grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, and again I faced the man with the weathered face. Tired of searching, I used my mouth for the first time in years and spoke,

"Where's my crew?"

The man looked at me with a stunned expression for a moment, as if he was surprised I could talk. However, he soon regained his usual calm, controlled face and replied,

"I only woke you up, son. You are an experiment, and if you prove useful to us, I will awaken the rest of your crew. But let's slow down for a minute. You'd probably like to know where you are first though."

Again, the man proceeded to continue speaking, but my thoughts were far away. Clenching my fists, I tried to control my rage at this man's indignant attitude toward the rest of my crew. I would have a hard time killing him now and getting away with it, so I stood there as he guided me around what he called "the nonexistent" floor. There were no windows, and stairwells only leading up, so it was probable that we were underground.

"This is where you'll be spending nearly all of your time," the man continued. "We're on the brink of war son, and we need to be ready. We need advanced machines, advanced tactics, and advanced soldiers. That's where you come in."

We walked by a group of people huddled around what appeared to be a torpedo of some sort. Eyeing the machinery, I saw it was incomplete, and poorly structured. Perhaps this is what the man meant; I was going to fix everything these people were incapable of fixing. Upon thinking this I had to control my anger yet again. I did not work for anyone, and I certainly wasn't this man's personal lackie.

"Your tests will begin in two days. For today and tomorrow you will spend your time getting to know the area. Failure to behave or failure to produce results will result in your immediate return to your beauty sleep. Success, and we'll wake your crew up for their installment in this program."

I looked at the man as he lectured me, trying to see past his hard exterior. What I found was to be expected; he was extremely nervous and greatly excited all at once. He wanted me to be powerful, but he was also worried that I would become too powerful.

"The name's Marcus," the man stuck his hand out. At first I was confused, but then I remembered this gesture as an old sign of peace. Taking his hand and shaking it, I replied,

"Khan."

"That reminds me son," Marcus spoke suddenly, "your new name is John. John Harrison. A new name allows you to start from a clean slate, so to speak, and put your past behind you."

"My past is everything to me," I replied. This man might have had some shred of power over me now, but the second I had my crew, he would not be so lucky. "My past is my crew, and they are my family. Can you guarantee their awakening if I do what you ask?"

At this, Marcus stared at me for a long time, trying to find a weakening in my resolve. By the disappointed look in his eyes, I knew he found none.

"We'll see son. We'll see."

After we finished touring the nonexistent floor, Marcus gave me permission to walk around the upper floors of our location for an hour so I could become more aware of my surroundings, but warned me that if I tried anything, I would be punished severely.

Not in the mood to resist and begin a fight, I agreed and was led up the stairs from the underground bunker onto the first floor by a guard who had been following Marcus and I since I had awoken.

"Here you are," he said stiffly. "You will be watched, so please don't attempt anything. You may talk with anyone, just use your new name and don't tell them of your purpose here."

"Then what can I talk to them about?" I hissed back, but I was already being gently shoved through a doorway. Before I could react, the door closed behind me, and I was standing in the middle of a floor completely packed with people.

It was enraging, to say the least.

I didn't know where I was, what year it was, or even who I was working for. Marcus had been frustratingly vague, and all I could hope for was that he wasn't lying when he said he had my crew and he would awaken them if I cooperated. This was the most infuriating part of our deal (if I could even call it a deal); I wasn't allowed to even see my crew members. In fact, as I thought about it, I realized the position I was in, and how I would get completely screwed over if I trusted this man, but I would get put back to sleep if I tried to resist him. My hands were tied, and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn't untie them alone.

I was so engaged in my thoughts, I didn't notice that I was walking in a crowd of people, when a shoulder suddenly planted itself into my neck and I was roughly shoved to the ground. Instincts setting in, I focused on the man directly above me, analyzing him; his glazy brown eyes, fat face, and smug smirk.

"Whoops," he said slowly, his smirk widening, indicating a low IQ and undeserved confidence. "I didn't hurt ya buddy, did I?

Calculating the probability of Marcus punishing me for beating up a man after two hours of being awake, I bit my lip. Even though every ounce of blood in my veins was pumping, and my muscles were tense, ready to pounce, but the faces of my crew were forefront in my mind. I couldn't risk my crew, I simply couldn't.

"I am fine," I replied as calmly as possible, rising from the ground.

"Oh well that's good," the man said loudly. "I was afraid I broke that pretty face of yours." Looking around, I saw that a small ring of anxious people had formed around us. This man's smugness was igniting the anger in me, and after being asleep for three hundred years, I was desperate to show this man his place. I was desperate for some control. Who were these people, to awaken me, to ask me to help them, and then to treat me so horribly? I was Khan. I was a ruler. I was a captain.

I was not to be toyed with...made fun of...controlled.

But as I reared back, fist at the ready, to show everyone my power, the man was already falling to the ground. Everyone turned away from me for a moment to stare at the person connected to the outstretched fist. Joining their gaze, my eyes settled upon the figure.

The first thing I noticed was his smile. He wasn't grinning like the man on the ground was just a moment ago, but he had a tiny smile on his face, the kind of grin that showed he was satisfied by planting a fist in the man's face. His eyes were bright blue, just like my own and perhaps even bluer, and his face was framed by short blonde hair.

A sharp groan came from the ground, awakening everyone from the awed silence that had hushed the crowd. Blue Eyes lost the grin on his face, and crossed his arms.

"Targeting new comers again Cupcake? I know you're upset about not passing your Weapons class, but you don't need to take it out on random strangers."

Cupcake stood up slowly, still obviously reeling from Blue Eyes' punch.

"Well look...if it isn't...James Kirk, Mr. Perfect," he sputtered. "How about I take out my frustration on you?!"

The fat man lunged at Kirk, but the latter was too fast, and quickly darted out of the way, his grin returning as the fight re-engaged. However, his happiness was short lived. Cupcake managed to turn quicker than probably anyone expected, and tackled Jim to the ground. Kirk landed on the ground with a sickening thud, and it was this that awakened my muscles. Before this disgusting man could hurt Kirk further, I lunged at Cupcake, purposely hitting one of his lungs with a fist and colliding our heads together. A thunderous crack sounded as our skulls hit each other, but mine remained in perfect condition. Cupcake, however, was not so lucky, and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Kirk was up in a second, right at my side.

"Is he..."

"No," I replied. "He is only unconscious."

"Perfect," Kirk panted, grinning at me. Not sure how to respond, I allowed a small smile on my own lips.

"John," I said and stuck out my hand, although the word sounded out of place. This man who didn't know anything about me had stood up for me, and I was already lying to him.

"Jim," Kirk spoke as he took my hand, looking around at the crowd that was now beginning to disperse. Shouts could now be heard throughout the floor, and even though I knew next to nothing about this place, it wasn't hard to figure out that the men running towards us were not happy with our handy work. Jim seemed to realize this as well.

"Security," his eyes darted to a crowd up ahead, where we could easily lose the security, then returned them to me. "Can you run?"

Nodding, I took off with Jim into the crowd of people. I didn't know where I was, what year it was, and who anyone I was pushing past was. But what I did know, was, that the man running only a few paces ahead of me (amazing since I had never seen a normal human run at my speed) was a man of compassion. Looking at his fierce blue eyes, now excited by adrenaline and dilated with energy, I felt strangely drawn to James Kirk.

I had never been one to believe in fate. I had always believed that I had the power over my own destiny, and running through the swarm of people with Jim at my side, I still believed that I was in control of my future as I always had been.

That didn't stop a silent prayer from escaping my thoughts; a prayer that James Kirk would not only be in my future, but that he would play a huge part of it.

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