Wow, apparently listing characters makes a real difference.

I am honored by the follows and feedback I have received so far. This chapter is not as exciting as some, though I hope it lends more insight into the situation. So far I'm up to about 15 chapters, with perhaps another 8 to go. There's some big stuff coming.

-XXX-

2259, Autumn

"…and you shall find, your Honorables, that Khan Noonien Singh, known as John Harrison to Starfleet records, took a vendetta against this organization. Whether that vendetta was justified or not is not why we are here today, but rather…."

A week into his trial, Khan is painfully bored. They have not yet – and likely never shall – called for his council. His defense, already knowledgeable in their defeat, have not sought to speak with him, either. Any other person might be lost in the babble of courtroom speak, however, Khan, being familiar with the flowery language of a royal court from the time of his emperorship, can follow rather easily. And it bores him.

There are only three things that interest him, and two of them occur when he is coming and going: seeing Alya's face in the crowd. Always veiled (strangely, he's never known her to do that), always resigned (except for her eyes, which frequently appear too-bright and too-wide), she sits in the back, away from the gaze of those who might know her. He knows for a fact that she is familiar with the good Dr. Leonard McCoy. So far, she has attended every day. He cannot always see her – some days she sits away from the stairs – but he knows she is there, can pick the very feel of her out of a crowd.

She is one of a very few people associated with Starfleet that he would regret hurting.

He doesn't want her here. For a variety of very good reasons. She is a distraction. It will distress her. He doesn't want to be disgraced so in her eyes. And yet, he dearly wishes that he could start and end each of these days with the sight of her, as selfish as that wish may be.

It seems fitting that she is here to watch him towards his doom, After all, she was there when he woke up.

The third is Commander Spock – specifically the way his body orients itself to Nyota Uhura. He takes note of this, and keeps it close on his mind for the day when such information might come of use.

-XXX-

Trials are nothing like what I saw on TV when I was a child – not the rushing, dramatic affairs of who-done-it. They are boring. Especially when you already know the verdict. Khan will be found guilty; it would be a joke to assume otherwise.

Initially, I didn't want to go. I knew it was going to be a spectacle. Besides, I have no wish to see someone I had once called a friend chained and displayed before the whole of Starfleet like some kind of circus animal. He's done wrong, yes. But to create any kind of charade of a trial is not just ridiculous, but cruel. He knows his fate – why prolong it.

To my understanding, it was Kirk – golden-hearted, noble Kirk – who had insisted on a true and just trial. To be fair, he probably did so because of his honorable values. But I have no doubt that the Starfleet JAG saw it as a way to sooth Khan sympathizers (they are few, but they do exist) and generally appease the media, who had been dying for a glimpse of the augment. Besides, it would clear their own conscience when they eventually put a wronged man down. Two birds with one stone.

Little disgusts me more than the stupid ceremony of the court – rising to honor the twelve, reciting the declaration, etc. I've hated every second of this trial. Though, probably not nearly as much as Khan has.

The only thing that might disgust me more is the way the journalist-types hound him. They flock on the stairs early, maybe an hour before we're scheduled to start. The six redshirts that consist of Khan's escort march down the steps about ten minutes before the augment's arrival. This sends the media people into a buzzed frenzy of excitement. Then when the car appears, they swoop in, eager for a word. When Khan steps out a babble of questions burst forth. This happens every day, despite the fact that he is locked on all sides by guards, and that he has never, not once, acknowledged those harpies. But they keep coming….

To get a word from him, just one word, would be such a paycheck. Yet he never even gives them a bow of the head, let alone a single syllable off of his lips.

So far, the only person I've even seen him acknowledge would be myself and the senior crew of the Enterprise. Interestingly enough, they've not been too keen on looking at him. Marcus, Spock, and Kirk all prefer to act as though he does not exist. Even when they take the stand.

Spock is first to testify. His cool monotone easily fills the hall. He recounts his chase with Khan with some prodding.

"My captain was dead," he says flatly when asked about the vicious nature of his assault against the augment, which has been caught on the CCTV cams spread across the city. "I was naturally emotionally distressed. Captain Kirk is a good captain and a good friend. We have been through much together. I believe it is a natural response to be angry upon receiving word of a friend's passing."

"But you did not just 'receive word' of Mr. Kirk's death, did you Commander Spock?" the defense asks. "You were there. You watched him die."

The Vulcan nods slowly. "That is correct."

"So you were very angry."

"Not enough to warrant killing Mr. Singh. I was merely doing what duty required of me. He was terrorizing the city. Incapacitating Mr. Singh with a standard phaser is simply impossible with his augment physiology. "

From what I can see of Kirk – which is little more than the back of his head – he shifts uncomfortably.

Bones is called up the next day. He testifies to the advanced nature of Khan's blood, detailing the specific genomes that allow for his strength and fast-healing. He also describes the way in which he saved Kirk through refined injections of the augment's blood.

"It was one of those damn tribbles," he says. "I couldn't very well test the properties of some superhuman blood on any of the staff, so my only alternative was to use tribbles. We've got quite the supply of them, and they make for descent lab rats. The thing was dying, anyways, and it was beginning to perk up around the time Kirk was roasted by that radiation. By using Khan's blood, I was able to engineer a serum with remarkable healing abilities. It's like a small army of microsurgeons. In three days, Kirk was entire healed. Completely free of radiation."

"Do you believe Admiral Marcus was aware of the properties of Mr. Signh's blood."

"How should I know?" McCoy snapped. "I wasn't exactly personal with the man and his under-the-table Section 31 scheming."

"You were asked to review the surviving records of Section 31 as it pertained to your medical knowledge. Did you not see any tests, or experiments, involving Mr. Singh? Do you think the Admiral was planning on utilizing Mr. Singh's blood?"

"I'd say not, considering we didn't see any kind of attempts at creating such a serum as I made. When reviewing the records from 31's chemical and medical departments I saw no such thing."

This was coming from the prosecution, who was apparently had the agenda of making Marcus look like less of a bad guy. Which is precisely why Carol had been asked to testify. She takes the stand next. At first cold and resolute, she is soon tearfully recounting what occurred on the bridge of the Vengeance.

"…and then he went to the chair and…and he held Daddy's – I mean, Admiral Marcus's...head. And he - he broke his neck." She takes a long pause. The entire courtroom seems to hold their breath, entranced. My heart aches for Carol Marcus. This is a cruel way to recount the death of one's father. She goes on, after a minute. As time goes on, her composure is regained, and she speaks powerfully on the matter of the missiles.

"My father was aware of those people," she tells the prosecution coldly. "He knew they were being stored within the missiles, which is exactly why he sent them on the Enterprise."

"Did you know?"

"No, which is why I had myself assigned to the Enterprise when she was sent to capture Khan. I knew there was something off about them, and I wanted to find out what."

"Do you believe your father truly intended for the missiles to be used? Or was he just hoping to bluff Khan into submission."

Her eyes are stones. She has no mercy. "I do not believe the admiral would have send Captain Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise into hostile territory armed with 72 missiles if he did not intend on their use. I believe the ship was purposely damaged so as to leave it in enemy territory. I believe he underestimated Captain Kirk as well as Mr. Singh."

This sends the entire chamber into fervent whispers. The gavel must be struck four times before any order can be met. Carol is dismissed. She takes her seat between Kirk and Uhura. Even from the back, I can make out both of her hands being reached for and squeezed. Bones sends her an encouraging smile. I feel a little more relieved to see her comforted. This is undoubtedly why the Enterprise has survived all of those nearlys and almosts – the crew supports one another.

The twelve call for a recess for the day. A rumor begins to buzz about the audience that Kirk shall be the one to speak tomorrow. He's been just as silent towards the media as Khan. This shall be interesting.

I wait as people being filing past. Now that we're a week into the trial, the novelty of watching the imprisoned augment has been lost. I don't mind this in the least – the bustle of the nosy journalists and the hyped-up cadets was getting rather old.

Below, on the floor of the arena-like chambers, the augment is being released from the podium. Eight redshirts surround him, creating a barrier of bodies between the superhuman and the crowd, like a pack of wolves protecting their young. It's almost comical.

Just in the seven days before, when Khan reaches the stairs, his eyes stop being impassive rocks of ice and turn upwards. Searching. For me.

I wait. When the gaze alights on me, I tug on the edge of my veil. The fabric ripples lightly. Khan stares. Just as he did in the seven days previous. And, just as before, I simply look back. I suppose I could impart some comfort or support, but I always find myself stilled.

He passes. I turn, watching until his back disappears over the crest of the seats. For several seconds I wait. Then, I take up my bags and depart. I pick my way through the people, down the stone steps, and onto the sidewalk. Outside, I pull at my veils nervously. I don't cities much.

It takes me a minute or two to hail a car. "Starfleet Justice Department," I tell the driver. He glances back, but offers no comment. I sink against the seat. Clearly, I do not possess the lawyer vibe.

-XXX-

The Department of Justice is yet another imposing building on Starfleet's expansive campus. Tall, ancient, with Grecian pillars and marble steps it gleams, white and regal in the afternoon light. The fifteen-minute drive from the courthouse to this place felt like an eternity, yet my nerves are still not gathered. I swallow deeply before exiting the car. The cabbie offers me his luck. I thank him, glad I tipped well.

Once inside, I locate a map attached to the nearest wall. I find the offices of Schwartz, tracing my finger along the path I must take, committing it to memory. Rearranging my veil again, I set off to find the offices of Khan's defense lawyer. I only get lost twice before I find the place. Which is fortunate, because Schwartz arrives just as I do.

He gives me a curious glance as he trudges in, but he otherwise does not acknowledge me. It's only when his secretary has discreetly messaged him and received the go-ahead that I am allowed in. His office is just as I would imagine as lawyer's to look like – dark wood, heavy books, piles of PADDs. He probably dreamed of an office like this in his days at law school. Though, judging from the bags beneath his eyes and stressful tremor of his voice, he had not imagined the pains of the job.

I sit down on a less-than-polished leather winged-backed armchair. Lightly, I lift my veil. The room is stuffy, and I do not wish for my meaning to be lost behind the distraction of a veil. Schwartz watches me, fiddling with a stylus.

"Dr. Nejem," he says politely when I have settled. Clearly having no clue why I am here or, really, who I even am, he's tentative in his greeting. "To what do I own the pleasure?"

"Mr. Schwartz. You've been leading the defense team for Captain Singh."

"That is correct," he answers curiously. "And to my understanding, you were once acquainted with him. Or, perhaps, Lieutenant John Harrison. You were even there when he woke up."

"Yes." I pause. "I was. We are quite acquainted."

His brow furrows at my use of the present tense. "I'm sorry, doctor, I must ask – why are you here? Do you wish to testify on Mr. Singh's behalf?"

"I doubt there is little I can tell you that you do not already know. You have my friend Dr. Cooper Detharow. He was present at our discovery of the Botany Bay. There is little I can provide that he cannot also tell you." I tap my fingers against the dusty leather. I straighten. "I'm actually here to request an audience with Mr. Singh."

Schwartz splutters. "Excuse me?"

"I'd like to see Khan," I say patiently. "He is allowed visitors, correct? Under the prisoner's rights edict, section eighteen, paragraph 4, sentence C, all under probational Starfleet custody are allowed supervised visitations at the discretion of their legal council. That would be you."

The lawyer stares. "You wish to see Khan Noonien Singh? Is this some kind of a joke?"

I stiffen, though I was prepared for this disbelief. "Yes, I want to see him, and no, it is no joke. As you know, we are acquainted. I merely wish to speak to him before his…." I drift off, leaving room for Schwartz's imagination. "…before we've no longer the time. It's business."

He looks unconvinced. "Business of what nature?"

"Research," I say without missing a beat. "I need some feedback. There is little recorded augment history, Mr. Schwartz, and if we are to understand their mindset and culture, we might one day successfully revive and integrate the others."

Still uneasy, the lawyer places both hands on his desk. "I don't know, doctor. He's a volatile person, likely far different from the man you knew –"

The thing is, Khan and John are not so far off from one another. But I don't wish to tell Schwartz this, so I listen as he warns me of the changes the augment has gone through, how he's likely near a state of madness, how his anger controls his every motivation. Schwartz is, to some extent, entirely correct – Khan has been consumed by fury – though it's not quite so overwhelming. Augments feel big. Very much like Vulcans. And, like Vulcans, they have formed an enormous amount of restrain. They can reign in almost everything. Even with Khan's loathing, he's still in control, still himself.

While Schwartz talks I nods, my mind drifting off. I give a descent charade of being attentive. When he stops, I shift.

"I understand. But I need to see him. I think you underestimate his control. He is mad –" I agree when I see the lawyer's mouth open in further protest. "—but he is stable. Please, sir, all I ask is for a few minutes. Besides, would it not give him ease to see a familiar face? Your client is a dead man walking. Surely he might be allowed to see someone who is less-than-eager to see his demise?"

"A friendly face?" he asks carefully, examining my face. I gaze back, attempting to make my expression impassive. "May I ask, Dr. Nejem, what are you to Mr. Singh?"

I frown. "I fail to see how the definition of our relationship is relevant. I need to speak to him on matters of research."

But Schwartz is stoic. My frown deepens.

"We're little more than friends, Mr. Schwartz. I was there when he came into our world. I was the one to show him how to use PADDs, I saw him trying to find his way in a world that moved forward 300 years without him. I feel a sympathy towards him because of this, you must understand. What Marcus did was rather scummy in my eyes, and Khan's actions – while inexcusable – were ignited by Marcus's choices. He was practically driven to retaliate. I don't agree with what he has done. But I don't feel like he had much of an option in the matter. He is a man who is always going to extremes. When you threaten the family of a man like that, I should think you could expect him to behave rather dramatically. That's my relationship to Khan Noonien Singh, Mr. Schwartz. That's how I see him."

The lawyer stares at me for nearly a full minute. "Oh, I wish you would take the stand," he finally murmurs. "That speech of yours might buy him a little sympathy with the twelve."

"It wouldn't be enough."

"I know." He sighs. "I will try, Dr. Nejem, but I can offer you no promises. I shall contact you within the week."

I leave him with my comm number as well as my address. Then I leave, going straight back to my apartment. Tomorrow is another day at court.

-XXX-

I've never seen people as attentive as when Kirk takes the stand. The golden-haired, ocean-eyed man sits on the stand with great bearings. He does not look in Khan's direction once. The crowd whispers.

"Did you initially believe Mr. Singh on the matter of his identity, and the threats Marcus had taken against him?"

"No," Kirk states. "I didn't. But I take everything with a grain of salt. We investigated. When we did realize that Khan was telling us the truth, we still could not trust him. That's how he became temporarily incapacitated on the Vengeance."

"And why did you not trust him?"

Here, Kirk's eyes seem to almost harden. "Because he was a desperate man."

Khan gazes upon his rival with crystal eyes. I'm squeezing my hands in my lap. Today, while ultimately not going to contribute to the verdict, is one to go down in history. The hero Captain Kirk finally giving his account. I think the only thing that would put people on the edge of their seats even more would be Khan's testimony. Which is far out of the realm of possibility.

When asked if he understood the augment's motives, Kirk frowned.

"You threatened the man's family, if he is a true leader, he will do anything with in his power to remove them from danger." The captain pauses. "You cannot fault a man that."

Having heard myself virtually paraphrased from the speech I gave Schwartz yesterday, I realize that I like Kirk. All of his nobility isn't just hype.

He leaves the stand to thunderous applause.

Cooper, who I had not seen arrive, claims the stand next, but the crowd won't settle for him. The gavel is struck numerous times in an attempt to call order. I can scarcely hear my friend, but isn't of much consequence – I know what happened when Khan awoke. Instead of focusing on his words, I watch Cooper's demeanor. It's been almost six months since we've seen one another. He looks tired.

I think the twelve have had enough dramatics for the day, as they call recess early. We're told Sulu will be testifying tomorrow. I wonder at the games these lawyers are playing, as it does not seem that they are going in any kind of chronological order with their witnesses. There is no plot, no story being presented, merely scattered facts.

"It's because they do not dare imagine a chance of freedom," my mind whispers. They're here for appearances. Not to try to establish the guilt or innocence of a man.

-XXX-

Ah, things are progressing in the trial! We won't be back here at the next update, however, returning back in the timeline to 2258.

Do I have any LOTR fans out there? Tolkien lovers? After seeing Desolation of Smaug I have been seduced into writing a few pieces for it. They might find themselves published sometime in the coming months.

Feedback would be splendid!