Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: So sorry this is up so late; I honestly didn't realize that time was going by so fast until I actually thought about it! Anyway, here is the sequel to my Star Trek story; I hope everyone enjoys themselves, and will leave a review? Thanks so much!

Chapter 1: Prisoner:

The walls were closing in. I swear I could see them inching inwards each time I woke up, even though I knew it was all in my head.

That feeling of oppression could hardly be surprising, since my days as Khan's prisoner sucked royally. I wasn't allowed out of my rooms, and on the few occasions Khan called me into his presence, it was under guard. Granted, I only had one guard, but I wasn't stupid –with a crew of super-soldiers standing between me and any attempt escape, making a break for it was not a good idea, no matter how few guards I had.

Of course, even if I tried to run, I had no idea what the layout of the ship was, and no clue as to how many people were aboard. Even if I did manage to slip away, I hadn't the training to trick the interior sensors to not detect me. I considered just going all out and making a break for the escape pods, but even if I succeeded in dodging the crew and somehow evaded recapture, I had no idea where the pods were on this type of vessel.

Obviously, the main thing preventing my getaway was Khan's crew: a group of men and women who were probably just as ruthless as their leader. I knew I didn't have the intelligence to outwit them, or the strength to overpower them so that I could escape, and I knew that failure meant being tortured in some way. I didn't have the willpower to withstand that kind of thing, so being the ideal prisoner was, at present, my only option.

In other words, I had no way out. I knew it, but most of all, Khan knew it, and it pleased him. But what gave him even more pleasure was the fact that I knew that I couldn't escape –it showed whenever I was brought to him for a "chat," an event that occurred more often than I liked.

During those few times I was let out of my cage, I sat and listened as I was informed of what I was and was not allowed to do, and the improvements to the ship, which were all intended to let me know that any escape window that existed was growing smaller each day.

That, of course, meant that any lingering hopes I had were also fading.

A week after his triumph over the Enterprise and its Captain, Khan could barely hide the pleasure and satisfaction off his face.

However, keeping a serious appearance before his crew was important –if he appeared too content, they would think he was going soft, and that kind of thinking tended to lead to rebellion. A true leader never let himself get too comfortable, because once he did, he would soon find a blade driven between his shoulder blades. Khan had seen it happen before, to other leaders during his time in power, and he had no desire to see it again.

Still, he was quite pleased that his plan had worked, and that Ria was safely aboard the Star Explorer. Feeling some of his people looking at him, Khan restrained himself from shaking his head and tried to focus on the updates they were providing. To him, this was a horribly named ship, but it was a science vessel, so it was probably expected to have such a pathetic name. Many of his crew wished to rename the vessel, and it was an option that he was very much considering.

Really, it had been all too easy to obtain this vessel; the take-over had gone well, and as planned.

With the world's computer systems filled with falsified records for each of them, it had been simple to slip his people aboard the Star Explorer, all disguised as workers assigned to dismantle the vessel. A previous night's trip to the shipyards had given them ample opportunity to smuggle their supplies and technology onto the shuttles and larger transport vehicles, hidden beneath the tools that would be used to dismantle the Explorer.

It took a bit of play-acting on their parts, but those who were 'assigned' to dismantle the ship's inner systems had bided their time before slipping a sleep agent into the ventilation system, knocking out everyone except Khan and his crewmates. It was only a matter of dragging the outsiders to the shuttles that had brought them over, leaving them there until the right time to send them back to Earth.

Once the ship was in their hands, Khan's people had quickly gone to work: one group hooked up their new power supplies; one began putting the replicators into easy-access areas, and another transported their arsenal of weaponry up from their hiding places on earth, to be loaded into the cargo bay, while the torpedoes were put into their tubes. After the power was up and running, Khan ordered the shuttles bearing the sleeping work crews to be sent off on a slow course back towards Earth, as the Explorer shot off into the depths of space.

Unfortunately, obtaining the ship had been the simple part.

The planet they had hoped to colonize was now in a sector of space where the sun was going nova, making the planets there uninhabitable. His science teams were searching for a new world to settle on, but it was something that would take time.

Currently, with the replicators and the efficiency of Khan's crew, the vessel was slowly coming together, but it was clear they would have to find a planet sooner, rather than later.

"…and we've just been in contact with a lightly populated world that has need of fighters, to help them win against some vicious local creatures that have been terrifying their villages," Isaacs said, catching Khan's attention. "They offer to trade some of their minerals, food, and other supplies in exchange."

Khan looked closely at his technical officer. "And how did this come about?" he drawled in a half interested tone. To the untrained eye, it appeared though this did not concern him; the rest of his crew knew better. His officers knew that if the answer he received wasn't a satisfactory one, someone would lose a finger, or possibly an eye. It had happened before.

"While these villages appear to be barely as technologically advanced as us, the truth is that they are merely a small sect of people who chose to leave the large cities in favor of a rural life," Isaacs explained. "They still possess the basic technological items, but they seem to be unprepared for the difficulties their new ways of life present to them."

Isaacs's niece stepped forward, waiting for Khan's nod before taking up for her uncle and superior. "We picked up their distress call to one of their cities, begging for aid, but the city seems to have been ignoring them. We took a tactical risk and replied to them, saying we were space farers and that we would be happy to help them –for a price."

Khan did not like his people working behind his back, and his displeasure must have showed –the others stood straighter and even Isaacs began to look a bit uneasy. It took a great deal to shake the older man, and that was usually when Khan was angry with him.

"It was a sound risk," Isaacs argued. "We need materials for the power cells, crystals for the warp core, and things we can make into spare parts. We might even get items we can trade to other races later on."

For a moment, Khan was tempted to take a fist to someone's head for suggesting that they try acting like traders or merchants, but he knew they were right. They were fighters, and it wouldn't be the first time they had been forced to trade their fighting skills for things they needed. It was, in fact, something they had done many years before Khan had built up enough power to conquer several nations.

However, it was also something he and his people did not like remembering. When the first nation they'd fought for had surrendered, Khan and what was left of his people had decided to move off on their own, rather than be taken prisoner. They had fought for other countries, sometimes gaining much, sometimes not so much, but always gathering power, allies, and followers. That was how they had risen to the top, and if need be, Khan would do it all again.

It was all he could do, given the circumstances.

"Very well," he conceded. He held up a finger, and watched in satisfaction as everyone's eyes focused on that single digit. "But, if you ever try something like that again without my authorization, I'll take one of your eyes."

Everyone nodded, knowing that Khan might tolerate a mistake once, but never twice. "Now, get out, except for Miranda." They rushed to obey, leaving the young woman behind. "Miranda, bring me Richards. I have a task for him."

She swallowed. "Yes, sir," she replied with a salute, before turning to leave at a brisk pace.

He smiled. Miranda was terrified of Richards, likely because she had several not very fond memories of being treated by him. Many tended to associate immense pain and suffering with being in the doctor's presence.

Unlike most doctors, Richards was severely lacking any kind of bedside manners. It was rare for Khan's people to require a doctor's efforts –their scientifically engineered bodies were quick to heal under normal circumstances, and anything more severe tended to mend in a fraction of the time it took a normal human body.

But there were the occasional instances where a doctor's expertise was required, and for Khan's people, that was Richards.

Like the rest of the crew, Richards tended to be a hard, disciplined man who dared not show weakness –to him, this included things such as caring and a soft touch. Thus, when his services were required, Richards worked as fast and efficiently as possible to get his patient's injuries dealt with. Sometimes, usually in a time of war, wounds and serious injuries had to be treated without the benefit of the tools and medicines that were required. If it hadn't been for their hyperactive immune systems, healing abilities, and high tolerance for pain, there was a good chance that most of the injured would have died very quickly in Richards' care.

However, if any of this century's physicians had heard of Richards' past practices, they'd have done everything possible to have him arrested for malpractice. Richards was more of a war-time doctor, and was used to working as fast as possible to get his patients treated and out of the way so that he could move onto the next one. Being 'kind' and 'caring' wasn't in his nature.

Not to say that he was bad at his work -Richards was very good at what he did, if only because he knew the limits of the people he was working on, and knew his way around the interior of the human body. And he always gave his best efforts, so that his patients came out of their situations alive and were able to heal on their own. That's all that mattered, in the end.

But like the others, Miranda did not like going into Richards' presence unless she absolutely had to. Well, today she would have to.

"Yes, sir," she obligingly replied before turning to leave the room.

Smiling, Khan sat back in his chair to wait.

Richards shifted ever-so-slightly where he stood, his face impassive but for the slight crease between his brows. He didn't have the courage (or insanity) to tell the truth: that the crew didn't approve of having Ria aboard in the first place, and that it was only fear of being found out by Khan that kept them from even voicing their doubts.

As it was, Khan sat and waited for the doctor's response.

"Sir, I'm not sure if I can approve of such an effort," the man respectfully told his leader and superior officer. "It's extremely risky."

He paused for a moment. "And I do not think the crew would approve of such a venture."

Khan sat back and looked at his physician. "I know that they do not like having her here, Thomas," he said. "She is inferior to them in many ways, but in this century, it is us who have the disadvantage, and thus are apparently inferior to the modern world. This is a century of peace, not war –we are outdated, and appear barbaric and hostile to the rest of humanity. That is why Starfleet and the Federation fear us, and will never accept us as we are."

Rising from his chair, he walked over to the window, eyes watching the stars as they traveled through space. "What I'm proposing is integrating Ria into our ranks: making her one of us in many ways that matter, but also using her to our advantage. She can teach us important skills that will allow us to be part of this new existence. Even if we can't fully integrate with them, we can at least learn how to communicate and trade with them."

"Sir, that isn't what we do," Richards protested.

"But adapting is!" Khan yelled, slamming his fist against a wall, denting it. "War is a thing of the past, and if we cannot adapt, we will perish from lack of supplies, or be slaughtered by those who see us as violent and uncontrollable. We need allies, but in order to form friendships, we must be open and communicate in ways that they will not view as hostile."

"And you think this girl can help us achieve that?" Richards asked. His voice was emotionless, but Khan knew he was considering this carefully. Richards was no fool.

"She has a distinct advantage that we do not: she has been working hard for years to fit into their society," Khan said, beginning to pace. "She has been part of this century longer than I have, and attended their precious Academy, which strives to ingrain within their students the morals and ethics that the people now believe in and follow. Ria might not be able to teach them to us, but we might be able to use them to our advantage."

By now, Richards was nodding. "I do see your point, sir. Having a person already educated in their ways is easier than sending one of our own to their Academy.

"However, it might be some time before she's able to give us the information we need. We haven't yet found a planet to colonize, and it will be a long and dangerous process. She might not be up to the task, or even survive long enough to do what you have planned."

Putting on his most polite smile, Khan turned towards the doctor, who quickly silenced himself. "That is why I want you to perform the procedure I've suggested. We need her if we are to survive, but first, she must be able to endure the difficulties we all might encounter."

Sighing through his nose, Richards' shoulders dropped; a clear indication that he was going to do as asked. "I'll get right on it, sir. I'm going to need a few samples of her DNA, though, and time to develop the serum."

"Do whatever you have to, but do it quickly," Khan ordered. "Keep me informed of all progress, and anything you need, whether its equipment, materials, or aid. I want this done within days."

With a salute, the doctor turned and left the cabin.

Alone with his thoughts, Khan decided to visit his prisoner in her quarters.

He hadn't expected it of her, but Ria was proving to be a source of entertainment for him. She was no wilting flower when it came to imprisonment –in fact, it seemed to irritate her more than anything. He had been informed by the guards standing watch over her that she was often bored, and that they could hear her loudly complaining about her boredom as she paced her quarters.

However, Khan dared not provide her with anything that could be somehow used in a fight or escape. A data pad could be shattered and turned into sharp blades, and he was not going to let her out of her rooms for anything short of a conference with him in his quarters.

He grinned as an idea suddenly came to him.

To my complete surprise, the door to my cabin opened, and in stepped Khan himself. I'd been pacing my cabin, trying to think of something to do, and when he stepped inside, I was immensely thankful that I hadn't had my notebook out.

Even though the replicator in my quarters had been programmed to create things that weren't deemed "dangerous," I'd managed to find a loophole, and had gotten it to produce a notebook to write in, as well as a pen. I didn't dare take the risk of using it often, though, since I couldn't run the risk of someone finding me with it and taking it away.

Not that I actually wrote anything significant, since I didn't want Khan or his people to read it, if they found it. I had taken to scribbling drawings on the pages, or just writing out how bored and angry I was feeling about my situation, but nothing more than that. It was kind of therapeutic, actually, and helpful in blowing off some steam.

I'd relaxed a little when I realized my notebook was hidden away, but the look in Khan's eyes put my hackles up again. He was up to something.

"Ria, I was strolling through the ship and realized that you have not been informed about a few changes that have occurred," he said. "Please sit down."

It was an offer I didn't dare refuse, even as he took a seat beside me. I carefully perched a decent distance from him, and forced myself to listen as he told me the latest happenings. Apparently the crew was going to be acting as hired mercenaries for a nearby planet, in exchange for materials and supplies for the ship. I personally didn't care, but I couldn't exactly interrupt my jailor while he was talking. I simply kept my head down and my eyes focused on the coffee table and listened.

Firm, but gentle fingers slid under my chin, forcing me to look up into Khan's icy gaze. He didn't say anything –just sat there looking at me for a moment before speaking. "I intend to keep you here and integrate you into my crew, Ria. Resisting me is futile. You are here now, and I intend to keep you, even if my people disagree with my choice."

The grip he had on me tightened in a possessive manner. "Sadly, you are not quite the perfected specimen that my crewmembers are. Your body is weaker and your mind less advanced than ours. You are, therefore, a weakness in our armor, and must be made stronger if you are to fit in."

I glared at him and pulled away from his grip, my arms crossing as I glared at him. "I don't want to fit in," I retorted. "I don't want to be here anymore than your people want me here! If I'm as unwanted and 'inferior' as you say I am, then let me go."

Faster than I thought possible, his hand wrapped around my throat, his fingers closing just enough to let a trickle of a air through. His eyes stared into mine, filled with cold fury and a fierce intelligence that froze my breath in my lungs.

"I cannot release you, Ria," he whispered, leaning close so that his face hovered a mere inch from mine. "It would appear weak to do so, and I cannot be weak in front of my people."

The hand around my throat tightened slightly, then eased, allowing me to breathe even as his grip maintained its hold. "Besides, I have no wish to let you go. You are too valuable to me, and I rather enjoy our little chats together -they amuse me, when few things do."

His thumb moved from the side of my neck, stroking upwards and down as he continued to speak. "And to show how fond I am of you, I've managed to engage the skills of our doctor in my efforts to make you one of us."

I'd been fighting to keep my fear in check, but when he mentioned a doctor, I felt that fear break through. What did he mean, 'make me one of them?'

Khan smiled broadly. "Ah, there it is. I do like seeing that fearful expression on your lovely face."

All of a sudden, he released me and stood up, leaving me gasping on the couch. "I suggest you rest while you can, Ria. Once your time with the doctor starts, I doubt you'll be getting much of it."

He then turned and left the cabin. I, meanwhile, sat shaking with terror and shock, my mind full of the terrible things that might be in store for me.

AN: There's chapter one! More to come soon, I promise. Review?