There's something in her posture that Khan recognizes - aggression. It mirrors his own, veins still thrumming with adrenaline from his suicide crash-landing in San Francisco. He itches for a fight, just beneath his skin, wanting to take all that fury and grief and break someone with it.

His target had been Starfleet. This supposed Enterprise might be a worthy substitute.

"So you can call security the moment I do so? No." His grip on the ensign - who's shaking like a leaf - doesn't loosen.

Give him a reason, and he'll give you a fight.