Today the POV-Theater features: The Price By Avery "Foxfire" Schroeder, Daniel "Drake" Sutherland, and Dario "Ibero" Pozo Pictures by Dario "Ibero" Pozo

[Some place in route to Coruscant]

The small renegade fleet exited from hyperspace in perfect formation. The density of the stars field around them was visibly higher now, and the galaxy's core could be seen like a brilliant ellipse occupying the centre of Trailblazer's viewscreen. The three ships were surrounded by irregular clouds of blue and violet spatial gases, a reminder of stars disappeared millions of years ago. But nobody was admiring the spectacular view on the Frigate's bridge. The crew knew their work perfectly well, and Admiral Garil didn't need to order a full scan of the area they had emerged in. With his hands at his back, the man who had been able to bring fear to the heart of the Empire was looking to the front waiting for the first reports. The lights of all those stars reflected on his eyes, but he was not seeing them. His mind was somewhere else, flying constantly from the past to the future, and then back to the past, in a constant whirl of thoughts, revising, analyzing everything, imagining what would have been if he had acted in a different way in this or that other moment and discarding the idea a second later. Only the future showed some clarity. Revenge and death, a final explosion and then nothing, but before that he would hear those who had caused so much grief scream in their own terror. There was a little voice inside of him - Maybe my conscience, he thought ironically -  which tried to make him change his mind, to order a 180-degree turn and try to take what remained of his people to safety. There was a second voice which tried to calm the first one, arguing that all this was for the prisoners. But there was a third voice which overwhelmed the other two, the one which realized that there was nothing they could do for the prisoners, and that there couldn't be a life for him after what he had seen and done. The only thing left was revenge, and revenge was what he would have before he died.

Captain Collin's voice behind him brought him back to the present.  "Sir, we have detected three transports of medium size in our path. They send neutral IFF codes."

"Escorts?"

"Half a dozen TIE Fighters, sir."

"If they have an Imperial escort they are Imperials too, no matter what their IFF says."

"Yes, sir." Admiral Garil believed he detected a trace of resignation in his first officer's answer, but not even a single sign of rebellion. He didn't turn to look at his eyes, because he knew perfectly what he would find. Some of the younger ones are starting to wonder about the sense of all this, but they won't question my orders. He thought for an instant of the missing pilot from Amber Squadron, Teel, Flight Officer Teel. His desertion had made him think a lot. He didn't know him personally, although Commander Louyan had said that his progres had been brilliant until now. Louyan was very disappointed. I understand that, I would feel the same if one of the men sharing this bridge with me did something similar. But they didn't have an X- Wing to escape with. The thought was disturbing, and the little voice in his mind, the one which argued for retreat, kept saying that he had no right to drag these young people into his revenge.  No. Collins would never let me down, never. I knew what I was doing when I offered him to be Trailblazer’s first officer. He was the number one of his promotion, “a future promise”, his previous Commander said, “although too young for that position”. But I realized since the very first moment he had what a captain must have, yes. But that’s not the point here. He saw what I saw. What Teel didn't see. The voice challenged him to turn and look directly into the young Captain's eyes, and keep looking until he was sure about what Collins would do if he had Teel's chance. He kept looking at the front.

"Tell Commander Louyan he has clearance to shoot down the escorts. Order Tideria's and Hunter's Captains to attack and disable all the transports. I want to talk to their Captains first."

"At once, sir."

Garil heard how his orders were transmitted and waited. Six X- Wings passed in front of him, accelerating towards the enemy convoy. Commander Louyan's fighter was leading the formation. The Admiral smiled. Louyan's flight had left the hangar even before receiving his clearance or they wouldn't have made it so fast.

Five minutes later everything was over. The freighters' Captains affirmed not knowing anything about Corvette Harrier and its escorts. They were carrying a grain cargo towards one of the Border's Imperial colonies, Polneye, a place he had never heard about. That might be true, but they knew more that they admitted. He had noticed how some of them paled when he identified himself as Admiral Garil. After three weeks stories of his predation were arriving to the farthest spots of the Empire. They were probably calling him Garil the Monster, or something like that. Perfect.

"Sir, the gunners are waiting for your instructions." Collins said.

As if he didn't know what my instructions are. There's only one thing we can do with the Imperials. The little voice interrupted him again. Those are not Imperials, they are just traders trying to do their work, and you're going to murder them. Why are you doing this? Why have you been acting like a bloodthirsty animal? Revenge? Revenge won't bring the deads back. Revenge won't heal the wounds.

Of course not. The wounds are too deep.

The scene had come to his mind again and again, like a nightmare when he tried uselessly to sleep, like the most painful memory when he was awake. He looked at his hands. They were trembling again. He bit his right hand hard enough to draw blood, but his hands stopped shaking after that.  The terrible images crossed again before his eyes, but he forced himself to look at them. That would give him the strength to finish what he had to do...
 
 

"Sir, Gladiant's shields are down!" he remembered one of the bridge officers exclaiming. "They're taking heavy damage!"

"Gaudeamus' shuttles are been intercepted, sir!"

"This is Cheetah Leader!" The pilot's words were coming mixed with static, but it was still understandable. "We can't do anything, they've all been captured, there's TIEs all around...!"

There was nothing more. Just another ball of fire where Cheetah Leader's X-Wing had been a second before. Garil understood that there was nothing to do, and that he could have made one of the worst mistakes in his career. Many lives could be lost trying an impossible rescue.

"Tell Dimb'ura to get out of there, all the ships, evasive manuevers!" he shouted. His eyes were fixed on the display indicating Gladiant's status. All the readings were in red.

Go Dimb'ura, go...

The New Republic's vessel was under fire from other three Imperial Frigates, trying to return part of the punishment it was suffering while turning to try to escape at the same time, but neither one was possible now.  One after one, her weapons were dying away, destroyed or damaged by the enemy ships. Several bombers were making passes on the doomed vessel, while the few gunners still alive were unable to avoid it. All the remaining laser cannons were shooting against one of the enemy Frigates that had received heavy damages and was aborting her own attack. Finally, the Imperial ship's hull collapsed and a violent explosion tore it apart as if it was made of paper. But nobody cheered on Trailblazer's bridge. Captain Dimb'ura's voice was hard to hear in the static, but the message was clear.

"It's.....ate for us,...iral. We......ing to make it..."

Garil lowered his head to his chest when Gladiant disappeared in the middle of a cloud of flaming gases and debris.  I should have understood that Gaudeamus was condemned.  Now I've lost the two ships. Oh, damn, how I've allowed this to happen... But I can't give up yet, there are still people who depends on me, I can't just collapse.

"Call all fighters back!" he ordered. "Program coordinates for a new jump and send them to all the ships, now!"

"But, sir, we can't jump towards New Republic space, the path is blocked by..."

"I know that!" He interrupted Lieutenant Deeggo, the nervous Rodian who was operating the navigation system. "We are going to return to Imperial space, it's the only option we have!

"A-Aye, sir!"

He looked at the group of four Corvettes surrounding the Gaudeamus. His people were there but he couldn't do anything to help them. His eyes followed the Imperial ships while they were disappearing at the right of the view screen while the Trailblazer turned to port. He had knew all the time that this mission could finish in that way, and even then the High Command would consider it a success, as long as the shipyards were destroyed.  But he felt a sensation of defeat and impotence filling him like poison. Around the ship, the remaining fighter pilots were struggling to keep the TIE Bombers away from Trailblazer and the two surviving Corvettes, but at least they were out of range for the Imperial capital ships' weapons. Not everything was lost yet.

"We are receiving a communication request, sir. From the Imperials."

The prisoners. They are going to use the prisoners to force us to give up.  Standard Imperial procedure.

"Finish those calculations as soon as you can, officer. Let's hear what the Imperials have got to say. Perhaps we'll get some more time."

"At once, sir." The holoprojector came to life and an Imperial Commander appeared before him, his hands at his back, and a complacent smile showing how he was enjoying this moment.

"Nice to meet you. Admiral Garil, I suppose."

"I can't say the same, Commander..." Garil pronounced the Imperial's rank carefully, letting him know that this was not a conversation between equals. Garil didn't mind that, but he knew that the Imperial did. The disappearance of the Imperial's smile confirmed his guess.

"Commander Horax, Imperial Navy. Don't think I'm that impressed by talking to a Rebel Admiral". Garil forced himself to smile, although the death of his men was constantly present in his mind. For the sake of his remaining crew, he had to keep his pride before the Imperials.  He didn't reply and just kept staring until Horax dropped his eyes.

"Perhaps you may want to know how our guests are doing?" Short and to the point, Garil thought. "Captain Veedar..."

"Yes, sir." A new hologram appeared revealing a different room. An Imperial Captain watched how two stormtroopers dragged a man in the New Republic uniform. There was a viewscreen behind them where Garil could distinguish Gaudeamus' shape. An assault transport was docking with the abandoned Frigate. This  man was one of those who had been captured just some minutes ago. His cheek showed a very recent wound, perhaps received during the figth or the further evacuation, but Garil thought it was more probably caused by one of the stormtroopers.

"We are not going to give up, Horax, so you can avoid the spectacle." The Admiral said. With a glance at the Rodian Lieutenant, he questioned how much time was needed to complete the prejump operations. Lieutenant Deeggo lifted three fingers. Three minutes.

"That's your decision, Garil." Now Commander Horax omitted the rank too, trying to offend him, but the veteran soldier ignored that detail. "But surely you know that every decision has a consequence. Captain Veedar?"

The Captain nodded and gestured to one of the stormtroopers. The soldier put his blaster against the man's head and shot. Admiral Garil clenched his teeth and watched how the man collapsed on the floor. Part of his head had disappeared. His blood covered both stormtroopers' armour, but neither of them moved a muscle.

"Murderers," Garil said with scorn saturating the single word.   It was not the first time he had seen a sentient executed before his eyes to force him to do what the enemy wanted, but it was something impossible to get accustomed to.

"Shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded, Garil, or more of your people will die."

"So my crew can get the same treatment?  I'm not going to do it, Commander, and you know it."

Garil looked at the Rodian. He moved a finger in a circle around his head. The coordinates were about to be transmitted to the fighters and the Corvettes.

"I think that the Admiral is not too impressed, Captain Veedar." Horax said. "Can you offer him something better?"

"Yes, Commander, I think so." Veedar replied. He made a sign with his right hand and a third stormtrooper entered in the scene , shoving a woman. His two partners caught her before she fell on the floor and forced her to turn and look at the front. Garil recognized her immediately. It was the young Lieutenant, Captain Sera's assistant. Her face was filled with horror, and Garil realized that the murdered man was still at her feet. She couldn't be more than twenty two or twenty three, her short hair was red and her skin freckled and very pale. A tear fell from her green eyes when she looked up. Trailblazer was not sending a holographic communication, so she couldn't be seeing him, but Garil felt as if she was looking directly into the eyes. Damned bastards. She could have been his daughter, or even his granddaughter. She shouldn't be passing through all this, she was just too young. He regretted accepting the transmission, but now he just couldn't order it interrupted, not while that girl was there, looking at him as if he could do something to help her. But he couldn't do what the Imperial wanted.

Time was running very slowly. Lieutenant Deeggo was showing him two fingers now. Only two minutes and they would jump far from there.

"Don't you say anything, Garil?" Horax asked with sarcasm. "Well, we'll press you a little bit more..." Captain Veedar nodded and the last stormtrooper hit the woman's face with his fist. She didn't make a sound, although new tears rolled across her face. Blood started to flow from her nose and her mouth.

"Coward!" Garil exclaimed. "I'm not going to surrender this ship, no matter what you do."

"Ah,  I think the Admiral appreciated this a bit more." Horax said. "Captain Veedar, do you think that your men could have some more...elaborate treatment for the lady?"

"Of course, sir." This time the stormtrooper gripped the young Lieu-tenant's uniform with both hands and pulled back. Garil felt a horror such as he had never experienced. They can't be doing this, they just can't be doing this... The old Admiral wanted to close his eyes, to turn back, to hide his face in his hands, but he was completely paralyzed, his body refused to do what his mind ordered. The young woman's screams were like an unbearable song of pain and suffering, filling his ears with her terror and anguish, every nerve and every muscle impossibly tense, as if he would explode in the next moment. No, oh, no, why are they doing this, how can they do this, she is only a child, no, no, don't do that, don't do that to her, stop now, you devils, stop...! Before his eyes, the young Lieutenant was struggling to set her arms free, to escape or at least take shelter, but all her efforts were futile. There was nothing she could do against the three stormtroopers. Their grip was unbreakable but she still tried again and again, causing the Imperial officers to laugh. The images blurred together in Garil's mind, everything became indistinguishable but the young woman's eyes. Those times when she was able to open them, there held a plea that Garil felt was directed to him. Please, finish with this.

"Shut the engines down, Garil, if you don't want something worse done to the girl."

Worse? he thought, unable to break the paralysis he was on. Nothing can be worse than what they are doing to her, oh, please...

He was wrong. Everybody on the bridge was holding a tense silence, broken only by the screams that came from the holoprojectors. Some of those officers who could see the images from their seats turned their heads away.  Captain Collins, who had stood at his right until that moment, was now covering his ears with his hands, his previous composure definitely broken. Lieutenant Deeggo was looking at the Admiral waiting for instructions, but he didn't give any. The countdown was progressing and the Rodian raised a finger, indicating only a minute for the jump. Garil seemed not to see it. There were tears trying to escape from his eyes, but they appeared to be frozen as the rest of the old man's body.  Is this never going to end? Garil had never seen such an indignity, such a cruelty. In some way, this was even more horrible for him that when he learned that the Empire had destroyed Alderaan. This act of depravity committed on a single person seemed even more evil, more unbearable. He had never felt so powerless in all his life. Desperation become wrath that ran throughout his body like burning lava from a volcano, fed on all the hate that a human body could contain. Suddenly all that fury reached a limit and the invisible ties that seemed to be restrain him broke all at once.

"FREE HER, YOU BASTARDS!" he roared. Only his eyes had changed, but they looked like the center of a storm. "FREE HER, SON OF A BITCH!" None of the men at his command had never heard him use this kind of language, and if his terrible expression was not enough, this told them how out of himself the Admiral was. If he had ordered to stop the ship in that moment, they would have obeyed. But he didn't. His face had turned red, with the veins clearly visible on his neck.

"I'm being informed that your ship is powering for a jump, Garil! Stop now, or it will be worse...!

The third stormtrooper was sustaining a laser knife before the almost unconscious woman's eyes. When she noticed the deadly blade centimeters from her eyes she made a last struggle to pull away from it, but the other two stormtroopers didn't give her a chance.

No, no, no, no.... The Admiral had his eyes fixed on the woman's face. "No, no, no...." Garil didn't notice that he had begun to say it loudly.

"Stop now, Garil! I won't say it again!"

"NO, NO, NO...."

"Fifteen seconds, sir!" Lieutenant Deeggo shouted, because he was sure that the Admiral was not going to see his gestures. The Imperial Commander heard it too and hit his hand with his fist. Captain Veedar interpreted that as an order and nodded to the stormtrooper, who was waiting for instructions. The knife descended. The woman's scream overloaded the comm-link's capacity.

"NOOOOOO...!" Garil had been holding a remote control all the time in his hand. He pressed the button that would activate Gaudeamus' self-destruct. Two new assault transports had docked with the ship in the last few minutes, when the Imperials had judged it was safe. Three of the Corvettes were very close too. Garil knew that one of them had part of the prisoners on board. All those ships were reached by the huge explosion in the same moment that Trailblazer started to accelerate before its jump. In the last second before the transmission cut off he saw Horax' and Veedar's expressions of incredulity. The stormtroopers released their grip on the young Lieutenant's arms and her tortured body fell to the floor like a broken puppet.

Garil kept staring at the point where the hologram had been. The remote control fell from his hand, and the sound that it made when it crashed on the floor could be heard throughout the bridge. All the crewmen were looking in silence at the Admiral, his faces showing the horror caused by what all of them had seen, but in most of them there was also fury. Captain Collins was crying like a child, but these were tears of rage. Several minutes passed before Garil made a single movement, his grey eyes burning in an expressionless face.

"Has that Corvette been identified?" he asked at last in a very low tone. Only his lips moved slightly, the rest of his body kept tense while his eyes were lost in a point in front of him. His assistant took some seconds before replying.

"Y-Yes, sir. Its name was Harrier."

"Did it survive the explosion?" he asked in the same monotone.

"Affirmative, sir."

Again at least two minutes passed before he said anything more.  "I want to know all the places where that Corvette can go for refuelling from here to Coruscant. If there is a possibility of intercepting them, no matter how small it is, we will take it." The words came out slowly, coldly, as if the man who was pronouncing them was already dead.  He felt that his soul had died already. A desire for vengeance burned him like a giant bonfire, filling every word he said with hate such as he had never known. Something had broken forever inside of him. The Empire would regret what they had done.

"We will destroy every Imperial platform, every base, every convoy, every inhabited place we find with the Imperial flag on it. They won't have a place to rest, not a hole to hide in all the Galaxy. I don't mind if this leads to my own death. If somebody doesn't want to come with me, I'll leave him in the next place we see, or in what remains of it when we finish with it." He moved at last and looked at the crewmen present on the bridge. None of them said anything, like an oath without words. They would follow him. Even to hell.

"Very well," he said.
 

"Very well." he repeated now, looking at the motionless transports. Nobody would keep him from doing what he had come to do. Neither the Empire, nor the New Republic. Nobody.

"Sir?" Captain Collins asked. Admiral Garil wondered how much time he had been absorbed by his memories, but it couldn't have been more than some seconds, and it had happened before. His assistant was waiting for his instructions about the transports.

"Destroy them," he said laconically.