Chapter Forty-seven
The Harder They Fall

Captain Amanda Cole

'The bigger they come…'

Nobody actually says it, of course, but it's in everybody's mind. It's been practically the whole theme of media broadcasts for the past week, ever since the verdict was handed down. Now, I can't help but be aware of the greedy gaze of the camera, fixed on the door through which the condemned will shortly emerge. As the clock ticks down, people all over will be hurrying into their TV lounges and offices so they don't miss the fun.

There are nine of us here in the grim little yard with its tall grey walls. Four official witnesses (of whom I'm officially one, aside from the extra duty I've been given), two executioners with two separate levers - one which will harmlessly shift a weight concealed beneath the floor of the scaffold and the other which will release the trapdoor beneath the prisoner's feet, so that neither will ever know which of them was finally responsible for the prisoner's death - and three television crew in a corner. Marla Moore is breathing a hushed commentary into her microphone, and that's the only sound except the distant wail of a gull that sounds cold and soulless in the empty sky.

Nothing this exciting has happened in the Empire for years. The only thing that came close was Commodore Tucker's trial, and though a lot of people were relieved when the inevitable death sentence was commuted (after all, it was widely known by that time that his 'crimes' were driven by his humanitarian nature rather than any attempt to benefit himself), it was equally true that many were disappointed. Executions always draw a crowd, and more so when the prisoner paying their debt to the Empire is someone who's had power.

Of course, the death penalty was a foregone conclusion. The only thing the trial was to decide was how he was going to die and for what specific crimes. In the event, he would have faced a firing-squad; terrible enough, but nothing like the long-drawn-out agony some felons had to endure. I suppose the only consolation was that whatever method was selected, even if he'd not been acquitted of the treason charge, it wouldn't have involved being strapped down onto a steel table and sliced to death with a scalpel. The Emperor's fully aware of the need to make an example where it's necessary, but I'd imagine even he thought that would have been going well past the full nine yards. Not that I've ever asked him, or even thought about doing so; I think by now we understand each other well enough, at least well enough to know where the limits are set. I think he also understands that even the misery of a life spent in prison can be somewhat mitigated for certain prisoners by the consolation of knowing that, however unfortunate their own consequences, their actions have effected change that makes things better for the people left behind, and I could not have been more grateful to him for allowing me the privilege of transporting the Boss after his death sentence was commuted in order to explain why I has seemingly betrayed him and assure him the mission would continue.

When he first offered me the chance to be the one to carry out this execution, I'll admit I was happy about it. After all, for all the years that have passed, I still haven't forgotten the night she all but killed the Commodore in some sick game or other. Oh, it was all hushed up and tidied over (as much, I think for the Commodore's benefit as for hers) and that slave of hers has already been disposed of with what I think was a kind of quixotic justice. Being a slave, he couldn't be tried for obeying orders, but he'll serve the rest of his life working in a lowly clinic for treating the victims of sexual trauma - but I don't forgive and forget, and behind the official facade I had to maintain, I don't remember ever being happier when that Guilty verdict was handed down, with the only possible sentence. Maybe it was because I was the only one of the Boss's cabal to survive the purge that the Emperor gave me the opportunity – paying back old scores, so to speak.

He gave me time to consider, though, and when I did, I was as surprised as anyone by the decision I ultimately reached. I hate the malevolent old bitch and I'll be glad to see her die, but beyond not wanting to be the one to kill her myself, I'd honestly prefer not to. The Boss never killed anyone without reason, as far as I know, and I think that rubbed off on me. I mean, he was Chief Engineer on the Enterprise, so of course, he'd seen action; but in a situation like that, it's kill or be killed, and he didn't have any choice in those deaths.

The only exception was his rigging that explosion in the old Sick Bay on Jupiter Station. Whatever his reasons for it (and I know he must have struggled hard with the necessity), I know those deaths plagued him. I think it's part of the reason he worked so hard to rehabilitate General Reed – to justify the cost. I just don't think he'd see the need to kill a captive if she could be kept appropriately incarcerated, and neither do I.

But apparently the Emperor does, and even if he wasn't the Emperor, it would be damned hard to contradict him in the face of all the people who have died and suffered and continue suffering in her relentless pursuit of power. So, finally, I went back to him and said it wasn't a duty I'd request, but if it was assigned to me, I'd carry out my orders.

As usual, it was hard for me to say what his reaction was, but he said that though he'd appoint someone else to be the executioner, he wanted me to be the one who puts the noose around Hernandez's neck. There's a time when you have to know when to hold and when to fold, and at that moment I just saluted and said 'Yes, your Majesty.' I know a test of obedience when I hear one, and it wasn't as if Erika Hernandez ever gave me any reason to love her. I guess I can live with putting the hemp around her neck.

Still, I can't say I'm actually looking forward to this. Oh, I'm not sorry she's going to get what she's earned, but there's something absolutely horrible about turning a person's death into a media event. Throughout the Empire people are holding watch parties, as if this is going to be some kind of entertainment. In fact, I've seen a financial report that said beer sales had hit their highest peak since the spontaneous block parties celebrating the commutation of the Commodore's sentence. Even little kids will be watching, probably munching popcorn as they see a lone woman meet a violent end.

By now they'll have already seen the interview I recorded yesterday. It wasn't rehearsed, exactly, but I'd been given the questions beforehand and allowed the opportunity to consider my responses. I thought it would be a good idea to discuss my answers with the Emperor, so I was a bit taken aback when he quipped that I'd never seemed to have trouble speaking my mind before. When I clarified that I was wanting to know if there was a specific tone I should take in order to present a unified message from the Imperial Palace, I was very surprised and deeply honored to have him assure me that he trusted my judgment and that as long as I spoke my conscience, nothing I was likely to say would conflict with Imperial Policies going forward.

"You've worked with me long enough now, Captain Cole, not only to know what I think, but also to generally understand how," he said. "We might disagree on specific judicial procedures, but I think we're in complete agreement on what should be the spirit of the law behind them.

"And even if we're not," he continued, "as long as you can see your way clear to obeying orders and doing your duty when the time comes, you don't necessarily need to agree with every word that falls from my lips. You're an individual with a mind of your own, and when you're speaking for yourself, you should feel free to express your own opinions. Anything you might say that conflicts with Imperial Policy can easily be clarified as and when it becomes appropriate."

So, not only am I having my obedience tested by being tasked to participate in this execution, but I am also being used as a guinea pig to test another of the Emperor's initiatives – freedom of speech. We learned about it way back when we were studying the course Peace and Prosperity from the Defiant's database. If people feel their voices are heard on a given issue before a decision is made, they're more likely to abide by the final decision, even when they don't agree with it.

At least I can feel confident, both from knowing the Emperor as well as I do and from what he has told me, that he won't allow anyone to accuse me of sedition, nor do I need to worry about finding myself stretching a rope the way Hernandez is about to. So, I was very careful to be clear, several times throughout the interview, that I was speaking only for myself, not the BII, the MACOs, Homeworld Security, or least of all, the Imperial Palace, but the Emperor and all the others have now heard me say that I think the law should be more about justice than vengeance, that being poor should not be a crime, that most prison sentences should have a planned release date when issued to give the prisoner a something to look forward to and a reason to work on self-improvement, that incarceration should include rehabilitation, and that torture should never be used as a punishment because it is inhumane and every time someone does something inhumane in the name of humanity, we all become a little less human.

These are all things I have said before to the Emperor, first with Ian in the privacy of the study group and Commodore Tucker sometimes joining us via video call when we did the courses from the Defiant and later in secret meetings with the most trusted members of the cabinet – Ministers Wainwright and Jackson and Captains Brice and Georgiou among few select others. But this is the first time anyone has expressed any of these ideas in public, and I understood at the time that it's exactly what the Emperor intended me to do and exactly why he didn't want to discuss the interview questions with me. By expressing my unconventional opinions, I can break the ice for new policies and legislation and get people talking about the ideas and ethics behind them before anything is made official. That way, there will be less upheaval when changes are made and anything that doesn't seem like it will go over well can be held back for a better time while the people over at IMRO work on a campaign to change public opinion until people are ready. Basically, the Emperor has made me the first prominent voice of prison reform and the highest ranking official to advocate for the revision of the criminal code of justice, which would have been incredibly dangerous in the past.

But Hernandez did earn her sentence, and I made my thoughts on that abundantly clear when I told Marla Moore not to refer to me as 'the hand of the Emperor's vengeance.'

"First of all, I'm just a MACO doing my duty in the service of Homeworld Security," I told her. "More importantly, though, the Emperor has no need to seek vengeance on any of his subjects. He is the Emperor. Revenge is beneath him. If they disagree with him, that's one thing. Everyone is entitled to have an opinion." This is another unconventional idea that we have tossed around in private but no one has said in public before. "But if they defy him, or if, by voicing their opinion, they commit sedition by inciting others to rebel, they are in violation of the law, and the law will see to them after that."

Then I reminded her and everyone watching of how more and more evidence came out during the trial about the reign of terror Hernandez had instituted during her time. Not that that in itself is such a noteworthy issue, not in the Empire, but the unforgivable thing was that it so often undermined what it was meant to achieve. She's not stupid, not normally, but she can be unbelievably vindictive – and once she's out for blood, she doesn't stop to consider the ramifications of her actions. That was illustrated, all too clearly, at that mining colony. She absorbed General Reed's obvious belief that the best way to control people was to make them too terrified to disobey you, but as murderous as he could be (and often was), he never indulged his savagery to the detriment of his intentions.

But still. For all the deaths and suffering she caused, to have your death made into a public spectacle … man. I've tried to imagine whether the Commodore would be glad or sorry about it, and I guess he'd be sorry. Not sorry she'll be dead, but if he could find compassion for a mad dog like the General, I can't imagine he'll think it's good for anybody to treat another person's death as entertainment.

The schedule's been set and the staff here stick to it like their lives depend on it, and I suppose in the past, they very well might have, but Emperor Burnell is a little more tolerant of human foibles than previous monarchs, and if things are off by a second or two either way, I don't imagine anyone will suffer for it. Even as the first chime sounds across the yard, the wards to the door shoot back and Marla's commentary comes to a halt. It's so deathly quiet, I hear the infinitesimal hiss of the camera's optical zoom homing in for the first glimpse of the unfortunate star of today's grotesque spectacle.

She's escorted – four MACOs before and behind, not that there's any point in trying to escape. It's more media-circus fodder than anything else, but this is a solemn occasion and people expect the ritual of it to be observed, however distasteful it may be.

I suppose many are hoping to see a cowed, terrified creature being dragged to her end, but that was never going to happen. I once heard the General say, 'When the end is all there is, it matters' – it sounded like he was quoting something, though I've no idea what – and I'm sure ex-Magister Admiral Erika Hernandez subscribes to the same kind of belief. She was (and most likely still is) a Grade-A bitch, but she was never a coward.

She's dressed in standard prison uniform, with no ornament of any kind. Her hands are cuffed in front of her, but she's walking steadily enough, her head up and her eyes on the scaffold. It's hardly surprising that she's pale, and imprisonment has worn her, but she's wearing a fixed mask of defiance.

The executioners and I are the only people on the scaffold. I suppose there might have been some private offer of religious consolation beforehand if the condemned prisoner had wanted it (though religion still isn't officially sanctioned, the Emperor lifted the ban years ago and tolerates it as long as it stays within the strictly appointed boundaries of births, deaths, sickness and disaster, and quiet services in the privacy of one's home), but I don't imagine it was taken up.

The MACOs march her across the square – it's not that large, so it only takes a few long strides before they're at the foot of the steps. She climbs them without faltering and they guide her to stand on the trapdoor. One of them slips a rope around her ankles to prevent her trying to save herself by straddling the drop. Then they step back to leave her there, alone, the focus of the Empire's breathless anticipation.

Exactly on cue, I step forward and take hold of the noose. "Any last words?" I ask neutrally.

She's staring upward, probably taking in the pale, pale blue of the early morning sky for the last time, but at that her obsidian gaze flicks to me. The faintest shadow of a scornful smile curls her colorless lips. "Tell Burnell I'll see him in Hell."

Then she returns her stare to the sky, projecting magnificent indifference.

Others might actually admire her courage despite her crimes, but I can only be aware of it. I've known braver people, and I've lost them all, thanks to this devious bitch.

I settle the noose around her neck, ensuring the thick, twisted knot is lying in perfect position. They explained about this during the preparations. Despite what the old movies show, it goes under the chin, not at the back of the neck. Being mildly curious as to why the position of the knot and the length of the rope matter, I did some research for my own education and learned that if things are not done exactly right, they can get very ugly and far more brutal than an Emperor trying to construct a civilized society would like. The action of the rope pulling up and around the neck when all of the condemned person's weight comes to an abrupt halt at the end of the fall is what snaps the C2 vertebra in two places and dislocates it from the C3 in a classic 'hangman's fracture,' killing the person almost instantly. If the knot is misplaced or the rope is too short, the person can be left to asphyxiate, which is a brutal death sometimes lasting more than a quarter of an hour is the blood flow is only impeded and not cut off entirely. If the rope is too long, the head can be torn completely off of the body.

I don't know who was responsible for measuring the rope, but I double check the placement of the knot before I step away and nod to the executioners, who already have their hands on their levers.

The CRASH of the trapdoor almost swallows up the dull THUNK of the rope going taut with a weight on the end of it. The body kicks and for a moment of horror I think something went wrong, but it's just the momentary convulsion resulting from the severing of the spinal cord. The cameras pan in as what used to be Magister Admiral Erika Hernandez sways gently at the end of the rope, the inevitable stain seeping slowly into the thighs of the gray uniform.

It feels like someone ought to say something about 'So perish all traitors', but nobody's given any instructions about it and I'm damned if I'm going to say anything without direct orders. So I pick up the waiting MACO escort and move smartly down off the scaffold, ignoring Marla who's now closing off the broadcast.

The other witnesses follow us out. The camera crew will be escorted off the premises as soon as they're done.

As the door closes behind us, releasing us from the eyes of the world, I'm not sure quite how I feel. There's no denying the world's well-rid of a threat to the Empire's stability, but I can't help but realize sadly how much potential we lost today. Still, she had her chances, more than her fair share, if the rumors of what she did to the Commodore and other offenses that were never charged are to be believed. It was her decision to let ambition rule her rather than good sense, and distasteful as it may be for such an event to be turned into a spectacle, hopefully it's had its intended effect, sending out the message loud and clear.

Those who work against the Empire have a rope waiting for them.