full_of_wrath | captivity

"Nothing dramatic, just a little financial restructuring. You're too young to remember this, but there was a time the Catholic church was one of the richest organizations in the entire world. You have eradicated this kind of corruption- largely on the back of our planning, you know. But this religion had hundreds of billions of dollars in assets, and used them to preach that homosexuality was a sin and that gay parents should not be allowed to adopt. It permitted no women to take any roles of leadership in its' ranks. It campaigned actively to prevent sexual education and singlehandedly crippled efforts to promote the distribution of barrier protection at the time when fatal sexually transmitted diseases were ravaging the poorest countries in the world, killing the men and disproportionately high numbers of women in these countries. Whether their faith is right or wrong, they were a relic of a time long past, who had rested on the laurels of an institutionally protected lack of accountability for far too long. So, we simply... severed their purse strings, when we restructured economies. It added fuel to the fire."

Kirk has learned some of this, too, but long ago. For him, the nineteen nineties were as obscure historically as the middle ages likely were for Khan. Hearing about it from someone with the knowledge Khan has is...disturbing.

"Look, I don't disagree that religions back then were corrupted by their own momentum, but you had to have known how deeply people held onto it." But Kirk can't' honestly say that he would have done something different. Not if he'd been living in an era where religious superstitions were more important than men and women's lives.

"So what happened when you took away their clout?"

"Do you know, they systematically hid the sexual abuse of children? There were hundred- I'm not exaggerating, hundreds- of cases of religious leaders who were known to be pedophiles, who had committed violent assaults and were simply tucked away, transferred from one community to another before there could be any outcry. The youngest recorded case was of a child of three years old. The priest in question offended for decades, selecting targets in that age range, with the knowledge of his superiors. Frankly, I don't much care what public support they had. They were an enemy of the new world. But that was only one, small piece of the puzzle."

He unfurls his legs, stretching them out in front of him.

"While the religious portion of the world rebelled, the rest balked at what the idea of the new population control requirements meant for them. People had initially consented wholeheartedly to these measures, but many were simply unwilling to give up the chance to have children, or unwilling to consider fetal genetic enhancement. There were incentive programs, but the shift in the population never really came. Humanity remained short-sighted and brutish, and the next generation of us, my generation, was born. We were asked to carry out global changes that had been planned premised on a population that was mostly patient, wise, and brilliant. Needless to say, from that point on almost every policy was met with violent resistance. The democratic process had been intentionally eroded early on, to provide consistency in policy and to let us make changes that would be necessary but would not garner popular public support. You don't actually know about democracy as it was practiced at the time, do you? I'm sure without context this sounds like madness."

"It wasn't democracy then. In most places it was a loose federation of nations, and each nation was usually run through a republic."

That's about the extent of what he knows; that and that it hadn't worked. But truth be told, the world didn't find real peace until after first contact with the Vulcans anyway.

"They're acknowledging that, in retrospect? The masses called it a democracy, and we were despots, tyrants. They were howling for our blood. Most of us were killed, some by mobs, some by seizure, with a trial and execution."

It's far enough in the past that there's some objectivity, but the republics of the past are still held to an odd sort of admiration.

"They still did executions? No--that's right."

He looks at Khan curiously. "What nation were you running?"

"The United Kingdom. I lived in London, even then. The building I destroyed was actually there in my time."

A source of private amusement.

"Not a sentimental man, are you."

He leans back, arms crossed over his chest.

"What do you think of the world now?"

"I like it. It turned out the way we wanted... if not quite as quickly as we had hoped. There's still significant room for improvement on a genetic level, but that isn't actually crucial in the grand scheme of things."

Shrugging, a little bit.

"I do think control of Starfleet needs to be put back in altruistic hands, rather than militaristic."

And something shuts in Kirk's expression.

"You haven't been around enough to know what Starfleet's like. And you killed the best man in it."

"They've been holding me hostage and blackmailing me with the murder of my family for a full year. I know just what they're like."

Snarling.

Kirk responds in kind, matching mood for mood the way he seems to do instinctively in every setting.

"You know Marcus! If all of Starfleet was like him, you and your crew would be dead right now."

"It wasn't just him. I had scores of coworkers, he had advisors. Idiots, everywhere, taking orders- he brought me into the room with them, you know? He made me watch-"

And then abruptly, he shuts down, like someone has wiped a slate clean. He can't.

Kirk isn't sure he wants to know. But he needs to ask, because he's on the brink of believing Khan or dismissing him, and Marcus has asked for a rendezvous.

"He made you watch what?"

"Get out."

He orders him, all tone gone from his voice. That's as far as he can go.

Kirk watches him for another minute, before he gets up and leaves. He thinks about asking Marcus, but after the conversation he just had, thinking about Marcus makes the hair at the back of his neck stand on end.

Something about the rendezvous doesn't feel right.

And when they get there, Kirk simply can't bring himself to hand Khan over. Instead they run. And they're caught, and he turns resolutely to Khan for help.

Fortunately, in sickbay, Khan has recovered some of his poise. He's breathing again, at least, and no longer slumped on the floor. His hair is back out of his eyes, and if he's still coolly distant with a note of mockery when he talks to Kirk, it's only to be expected.

He's seen Khan slumped twice before, and seeing it now brings an unexpected twinge. It only lasts a second.

"We're going over. Come on."

"I'm going to kill him."

He warns, passively enough.

"You owe it to me not to stop me."

"Yeah, we'll see."

Kirk means to bring Marcus back for trial. But Marcus just tried to kill every member of Kirk's crew, and so he's not all that attached to the idea of Marcus coming in alive.

That being said he's not going to condone Khan racing off for vengeance.

"You ever flown before?"

Without a ship.

"I feel as though you're about to suggest something incredibly foolish."

Says Khan, warily.

Gut instinct.

"Can you talk and walk? We don't have a lot of time."

And Khan doesn't have a choice in the matter.

He rises up gracefully, and holds his wrists out for Kirk to undo the cuffs.

He undoes them quickly, and then turns sharply to lead Khan briskly through the halls to the space suits.

He tells him what they're going to do and braces for argument.

None comes. He merely suits up, quietly, and accompanies him to the airlock.

Besides, Scotty is doing all the yelling for him.

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