The trial went as poorly as expected. The crimes were presented first, and victims' families made statements. Though execution was heavily debated in the media and in homes on most Federation planets, ultimately it was never considered by the court. When the Enterprise crew gave their accounts, the jury wavered. When Doctor McCoy presented key points from the Noonien Singh recordings, the jury recessed. The full recordings were made available. None doubted that the entire jury viewed them in their own time.
It was decided that the attack on the archives and on the Vengeance were, in a circuitous way, self defense. The murder of Admiral Marcus was temporary insanity. The crash of the Vengeance into San Francisco was involuntary manslaughter. As much faith as people wanted to have in their institutions, only the most insistent bothered to postulate that presenting himself to the Federation and asking justice would have had any reasonable result.
But what to do with a superhuman madman? Noonien submitted a letter to the court requesting that he be placed back into cryosleep, his crew placed on a more dependable dormitory ship, and that they be returned to the hands of Fate. But the letter never got to the court- it stayed in Spock's desk for many years, an odd sort of souvenir of a terrible adventure. As he himself had guessed, Noonien was indeed put back into cryosleep due to the fear of future harm. It wasn't execution, but it was, for all anyone knew, eternal sleep.
Almost anyone.
On the day of the sentence, Spock and Dr. McCoy appeared at the wall of the cell, backed by three of their colleagues. Nyota, Pavel, and Hikaru stood quietly by, oddly giddy, strangely excited, and obviously keeping something to themselves.
"It was decided, then?" he asked, already knowing.
McCoy nodded, but kept a half smile. "You and your people are under a protective order; no one from the Federation will touch them. But they want to put you back under. I requested that we be allowed to do it."
He nodded, standing and moving toward the glass. "I will cooperate. Thank you all for the roles you must have had in my defense." He looked around. "There are no security personnel."
Spock clipped the port ring over and pulled it wide, a door opening between them. "Would you like there to be?"
Noonien smiled not dangerously. "I will cooperate."
"Please do. We have prepared an up-to-date cryotube, but the procedure is still extensive. Doctor McCoy will supervise. Is there anything you would like to do or say, first?"
"Thank you. I am sorry. Will-" he stopped, then raised his chin slightly and started again. "Are there any plans to ever revive us? Or is this... is this it?"
"Starfleet has no plans for reviving you or your people," Spock told him.
Noonien looked at the ground. "Then thank you, I am sorry, and goodbye." He followed them into the next room and cooperated as promised, climbing into the glass and metal coffin that awaited. As he leaned back, the doctor gave him and injection of sedative to begin slowing his functions.
"Goodbye," McCoy told him as he did.
Spock moved to help guide his head into the apparatus meant to keep it in place, but at the last moment froze in place.
Noonien's vision distorted, fell away. He rushed through an atlas of stars and planets, light and void, slowed, hovered over a vast planet of windy steppes and dusty highlands. A wide, blue sky reached out in every direction, a bright star filled the sky with golden light. A familiar voice whispered and echoed and orated and suggested at the same time. Ceti Alpha V. Habitable, but inhospitable. You will be left alone here to live as you please. To the end of your days, and the days of your grandsons.
In a blink, Spock was out of his head again, but still close enough to hear an amused whisper. "You do lie all the same."
Spock, sharing the rushing, joyous relief of Noonien, couldn't help but add, "We will be there when you wake up. We will take you home."
The metal and glass coffin closed around Noonien and filled with inert gases. The last they saw before he closed his eyes was a wide, fond smile.
AN: Phwew. Had to wrap that up before it got too sentimental. ;)