[h1]Atrocity. Tragedy. Justice.[/h1]

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"James Carpenter, Convicted for Murder, Assault, and Torture. George Butcher, Convicted for Murder, Assault and Torture. Trevor Gunne, Convicted for Murder and Assault..." The grim list of names was read out calmly and clearly as each man was strapped to his post, blindfolded and muffled so that they could not see or hear their upcoming death. The enormous crowd that had gathered jeered angrily from behind a barricade patrolled by soldiers, ignoring the hot sun. The infamy of the "Rapists of Hakas" was enormous. Hawks and doves alike had recoiled at the act and united in denouncing the perpetrators. Now they were here to watch these killers face justice.

The list of charges was finished, the last man bound at his post. He turned around and looked meaningfully at the Magistrate, who stood among a small collection of lawyers, army officials, priests, foreign diplomats, and appointed witnesses. Perhaps as a fluke of history, or as a deliberate attempt to make the trial more legitimate in the eyes of outsiders, the magistrate was Varian. Trevor Martel's father had been a Zellonian merchant who emigrated to Sumaya - Trevor himself had been born there, but that was beside the point, his skin was pale and his education flawless. 

The Magistrate sighed, checked his watch, and turned to another man, a very old man and obviously a priest of some kind, although his vestments were completely different from the others. "Give them their last rights" he said to the priest. The man nodded and approached the men, ignoring the watching crowd. He gave each of them their last rites according to Zellist doctrine. The state had gone through great effort to make sure that the convicted men would receive rites in their native religion. After what seemed an eternity he returned and pronounced "it is done."

"Proceed." The magistrate ordered.

A lieutenant saluted, whipped around, and marched forward. Thirty soldiers in full uniform snapped to attention, each chosen for their skill at marksmanship. 

"PRESENT ARMS!" The lieutenant roared. The crowd hushed.

"AIM"

"FIRE!"

thirty rifles cracked.

Nine bodies slumped.

The crowd cheered.

"It is finished." The magistrate said with almost palpable relief. The adulation of the crowd beyond the barrier was lost on him. He did not enjoy his duty, although he knew how much this justice meant to Sumaya. The Malikate had to show its people that it was looking after them - that those who attacked them or disturbed the peace would not go unpunished.