A/N: It's official. I've caught the Khan bug. What can I say? I love me a dark, tortured villain (preferably in a glass prison cell) ;) Anyways, this is just a little something I cooked up, so tell me how it is and if I should keep going with it! Enjoy!

P.S. I do not own Star Trek in any shape or form...

Blood.

All she could see was blood.

She was surrounded by it, covered in it. Her head shot up when she heard a fierce yell to her immediate right. She looked over to see her father grappling with three shadowy figures who appeared to be much stronger and were easily overtaking him. Her mother. She wanted her mother, but she had no clue where she was. She looked around frantically until she spotted a still figure lying not two feet behind her. She crawled towards the immobile woman hesitantly.

"Mama?" She whispered as she placed a blood covered hand against the woman's cheek, but she did not move. "Mama, you have to wake up!" The girl insisted. "Daddy's in trouble!" Just then, she heard a choked scream coming from behind her and she whipped around to see her father sinking to the floor, a large dagger with a curved handle protruding from his throat, his lifeblood flowing from the fatal wound.

She screamed.

Ana Sullivan shot bolt upright as she awoke screaming from yet another nightmare, her sweat soaked emerald green sheets tangled around her legs. She pushed herself back against the headboard of her bed and brought her knees to her chest and rested her head on them as she tried to steady her erratic breathing. After about five minutes of a meditative breathing exercise her mother had taught her years ago, she was able to regain a bit of her composure and moved to sit on the edge of her bed. Her toes curled in the plush carpet beneath her feet as she ran a shaking hand through her fiery red curls, tucking a few wayward strands behind her pointed ears. She was about to get up and begin the day, when the communicator on her bedside table shrilled loudly, making her jump. Ana swore under her breath as she leaned across the bed and grabbed the noisy object before flipping it open.

"Sullivan." She stated simply.

"This is Admiral Alexander Marcus." The deep voice responded succinctly.

"Admiral Marcus." Ana sat up straighter. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to do me a favor." He said. "Call it a little side job."

"Of course, Admiral." She replied. "How can I help?"

"Word is you used to be one of the best and brightest in weapons development while you were a cadet before you changed your focus to command. Is this true?" He questioned. Ana was so flustered by the odd questions he was asking that it took her a moment to formulate a coherent answer.

"I suppose so," she responded, "but becoming the captain of my own starship was always my goal."

"Like father like daughter." He chuckled hoarsely, the sound making Ana cringe for some unknown reason. She never much cared for the Admiral, even though she'd only meet him once or twice. There was something about him that always rubbed her the wrong way. "Your father was a good man as well as a great Captain. He would have been proud of you."

"Thank you, sir." She said. "But I'm still rather confused as to why my knowledge of weapons development would be useful to you in any way."

"Straight to the point I see." He paused for a moment. "Well, I can't let you in on the full secret now, but to make a long story short, Starfleet has put me in charge of a new weapons development section, and I've been looking around for any bright young minds who would be willing to contribute to the cause and you were top of the list, Sullivan."

"Sir, I'm not exactly up to date on the latest weapons tech, and even if I was, what kind of weapons-" But she was cut short when he spoke over her.

"That will all be explained in due time." He stated simply. "You are to report to the Kelvin Memorial Archive this afternoon for your briefing."

"The Archive?" She questioned. "Why th-"

"Twelve o'clock sharp. Don't be late." The comm went dead. Ana stared at the communicator for a moment, still trying to process what was probably one of the oddest conversations of her life. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed as she rose stood and tossed the communicator on her bed before making her way to the huge floor to ceiling window in her bedroom. She opened the curtains and stared out her thirty story bedroom window at the glittering city that lay before her. London was a perfect balance of both the old and the new and Ana was quite proud to call the ancient city home. Her eyes scanned the city until they fell on the barely visible Archive about ten blocks from her flat. Her brows furrowed as she shook her head before she turned and walked towards her bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.

Ana straightened her grey uniform as she exited the cab and approached the shining glass doors of the Kelvin Memorial Archive. She subconsciously reached up and checked to make sure that her hair covered the distinctive pointed tips of her ears as she walked. Being half Romulan wasn't exactly easy to explain to most people who had been raised with a fear bordering on hate of the violent race that had always had an uneasy truce with the Federation. The time-traveling Romulan's which had almost destroyed Earth over a year ago didn't exactly help to improve the image of the Vulcan-like race either. So, to avoid suspicion, as well as numerous dirty looks, Ana tried to keep her ears as inconspicuous as possible. She checked her hair one last time before she approached the uniformed guard standing to the right of the glass and steel door.

"I had orders to report here, direct from Admiral Marcus at the Starfleet base in San Francisco." She raised her chin as the guard looked her over.

"Name?" He asked.

"Captain Rhiana Sullivan." She answered, using her full name. The guard removed a small PADD from the utility belt at his hips and pulled her information up. After a moment, he raised his head to look at her.

"Right this way, Captain Sullivan." He said as he stepped aside and opened the door for her, but before she could enter, the ground shook and she was suddenly thrown back by an explosive force. She landed about twenty feet from the door-or where the door used to be. Ana's vision went dark for a moment, but came back slowly, black spots dancing across her vision. Her ears rang as she struggled to push herself onto her elbows so that she could get her bearings straight. She couldn't believe what she saw. The street in front of the Archive had been turned into a giant crater, filled with wreckage and debris as well as unconscious, and most likely lifeless bodies. She turned to look at what used to be the Kelvin Memorial Archive, but what was now a blown out shell of a building. Her vision began to grow foggy again and she reached up to check her head for injuries. She felt along her scalp and through her hair, which had come undone and fallen around her shoulders from the force of the blast. She found a shallow gash near her temple and winced. All then sudden she sensed something. Someone was staring at her, their gaze like a white hot brand. She turned her head to search out the culprit and her eyes fell on a man dressed entirely in black, standing not twenty-five feet from her and seemingly untouched by the explosion. His pitch black hair was slicked straight back and his haunting blue eyes met her gaze. Ana's eyes widened as the dark stranger's lips curved into a slight smile before he turned and disappeared into the frantic crowd of people running towards the bomb sight. Her vision swam before she slumped onto her back, her vision going black.

P.S.S. The name Rhiana is Romulan for "ruled by fire."

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