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

[Two hours later, somewhere near the Imperial base]

If we can't do it, I don't think it can be done, Foxfire thought.

She glanced around one last time, marking the positions of the various fighter groups in her mind. The pilots were all holding a clean formation - even Commander Louyan's people, who were worn to shadows. She only hoped they could maintain that precision - this close to the Core, there was nowhere to fall back to if things went wrong. She hated playing double or nothing...

Shaking her head, she forced away the nagging memory of the cold look on Nathan Garil's face. The Admiral knew what he was getting into. And that was what scared her.
 
"White Two to all units, prepare for hyperspace jump. You know what to do. And may the Force be with us all."
 
The two A-wing flights shot ahead into hyperspace, with Moose's wing of bombers following closely behind. That was all Foxfire had time to see before the starlines stretched out in front of her, but they'd been over this strategy so many times that she could see it all in her mind's eye. Louyan's X-wings were scattered throughout the engagement area to provide fighter suppression and support White B-Wings in their attack on the capital ships. Every one had received a full load of six proton torpedoes from the Joan d'Arc's armoury. Admiral Garil had preferred to conserve the Trailblazer's scarce reserves to use them in his own attack.
 
The reversion light on her console flickered, and Foxfire braced herself as the fighter dropped out of hyperspace with a faint shudder. Her wing and Vyper's peeled away in opposite directions, making room for the B-wings that dropped in a moment behind them. The heavy bombers were actually outdistancing the A-wings at the moment - Moose's group had a definite goal in place, while the A-wings'g first task was to escort them in an attack on the Harrier and the Frigates. With any luck, that assault would go quickly enough that she could fire a couple of shots into the Corvette itself. After what the Admiral had told her, she wasn't feeling particularly well disposed to anybody aboard that ship. She glanced at her rear sensors, but there was nothing there but the rest of her flight. Garil's ships and the Imperial base were out of her sensor range, but probably not as far as she would like right now. Synchronization was vital if they were to have any chance to complete their mission. If Harrier's group delayed and Admiral Garil's small force was destroyed, they would never have enough time to rescue the prisoners before the reinforcements arrived, and even that was riding on whether or not the Admiral's guess about Harrier's escort was correct and the Corvette arrived only with the two expected Frigates...
 
 

[Onboard Imperial Corvette Harrier]

Captain Sera was leaning back against one of the unpolluted white walls, with his eyes closed but unable to actually rest. He couldn't help but feel he still had a responsibility on his crew, although the Gaudeamus was now a cloud of spatial debris somewhere behind them.

That had been the worst day in his life. To abandon your ship was hard, but nothing compared with what he had to suffer after that. Captain Sera had been forced to watch while the stormtroopers tortured his adjutant, Lieutenant Shillis, to convince Admiral Garil of giving up. He would have jumped on them, even with his hands firmly bound at his back by the magnetic handcuffs, if he hadn't known so painfully well that this was exactly what the Imperials wanted him to do. He had closed his eyes as long as he could, before one of the stormtroopers noticed it and hit him on his face with his carbine. Though it had been good to see the Imperial Captain's face when the Admiral made Gaudeamus explode practically under his nose. Veedar had turned as white as the stormtoopers' armour. I wonder what he did to his pants, he thought with an ironic smile.  That had been the only moment when Sera was able to do anything for his people, although he was not sure how good that would be in the long run.
 

"It's mad, that old fool is absolutely mad!" Veedar was exclaiming, completely out of himself. "He killed his own people, destroying the ship like that!  Damn, we were still picking them up!" But Captain Sera understood perfectly what had made the Admiral do it. Better to know his people were dead than leave them to be tortured one after another, as poor Lieutenant Shillis had been.

He'd been prepared to be the next one, but Veedar seemed not to see him. The communication with the rest of the ships had been momentarily interrupted, the Corvette's antennas had been damaged by the expanding shock wave and the reparation team would need at least half an hour to make some of them operational again. The stormtroopers were just standing there, waiting for instructions, including the two who were behind him, with their blasters touching his back. Finally, one of the bridge's officers gathered enough courage to interrupt his Captain's monologue.

"Captain, do you want to order the troops to, ah, finish the prisoner?" The man's face was pale, almost sick, knowing he was stepping on the blood that covered the floor around the murdered woman. Veedar seemed to notice it too and he made a step back, looking stupidly from the floor to the official.

"The prisoner, ah, yes... Take it out of here."

"At once, sir." When one of the stormtroopers stooped to take the body from the floor, he observed the standard procedure and put his hand on her neck first, checking if there was some trace of life.

"She is still alive, sir.  Not for long." His tone was neutral, as if he were reporting the temperature on the bridge. But Captain Sera spoke before Veedar was able to reply.

"Don't kill her, Captain. She is the explanation for the Admiral's behaviour..." That interruption got him another blow from one of the stormtroopers, but his words had caught Veedar's attention.

"Stop, soldier! I want to hear what this trash has got to say. Well?"

Captain Sera met Veedar's eyes and gave him the first lie he could invent, ignoring the blood flowing from his upper lip.  "His lover, she is his lover. You can believe me, she is my assistant, so I was aware of it. The Admiral would do almost anything for her except surrender." He left the obvious conclusion - that the Lieutenant would be more useful to the Imperials alive than dead - to Veedar.

Veedar stared at him for a moment and then made a decision.  "Take her to the medical facilities and put her in a bacta tank. I'll ask Commander Horax what to do with her when the communications have been restored. And put that other Rebel with the rest."

That had been all. He had been dragged to the detention block and he hadn't know anything more about the woman's destiny, whether she had survived or not, or if they had kept her alive after talking to the fleet's Commander. What I don't understand is why they are taking this long to bring us wherever, he thought not for the first time. We could be in the deepest planet of the Core by now.

He felt for an instant as his stomach had made a jump inside of him. Every experienced spacer would recognize that sensation - they had dropped out of hyperspace. He had lost count of their jumps some time ago. Well, maybe we have arrived at last, wherever they are sending us.

He opened his eyes and looked around. None of the other prisoners seemed to have noticed it, although some of them were surely awake. He hated to see them like that, so terribly depressed - even Sergeant Orindar, who had bothered them with joke after joke the first days, before giving up and staying as silent as the rest. The name of Lusyanka had been mentioned more than once. Lusyanka was a mythical Imperial prison, one it was impossible to escape from, a place where the prisoners were used for the Imperial scientifics' experiments. Its real location still was a mystery for the New Republic, and every effort to discover it had ended in failure. Since the time of the Emperor Rebel spies had collected reports about prisoners being sent there, but nobody had returned to talk about it. Rumours were that Lusyanka was literally the Hell, created by the Emperor to bury his enemies in life. Sera had heard those stories too, and although he knew none of them could have been proven true, he couldn't help but feeling scared, with the irrational fear most sentients feel towards the unknown.

He tried to sleep to avoid thinking, but it was not easy.
 
 

[Imperial Nebulon A Frigate Thennef's bridge]

"I see them, at last I see them..." Commander Horax said with a grin, when the bigger vessel was identified as a Nebulon-B Frigate. He had seen the two sets of coordinates matching and he had been puzzled for a second, but now everything made sense. He had been delaying the return trip as much as he could, ever since he learned that the Rebel Admiral was trying to intercept them. Everybody seemed to be mad about him there in Coruscant, because the Rebel was attacking everything in his way and nobody appeared to know how to find him, much less stop him. Horax had known all the time what the Rebel was looking for, and he had requested permission to allow him to find it several times, but the answer had been always a negative. "Follow your flight plan to Muldron".  That was all he had heard every time, for all his trying. What the Imperial Captain desired the most was an opportunity to deal again with Garil on his own, and with that thought in his mind he had used the Admiral's attacks as an excuse not to choose a direct route to their destination, and to not rendezvous with any reinforcement force. Besides, if he had rendezvoused with another force, he would have lost the command of the mission to somebody with a higher rank.  Just when he thought that he would never have the chance to meet Garil again face to face, he was being given an opportunity to finish his job. Someone in the Imperial Intelligence must have finally understood what Horax had been repeating all the time about Garil's motivations, and they were trying to trap the Rebel Admiral offering him a last chance to rescue his people. And he had taken the bait...

Now you'll see what this Commander can do with a Rebel Scum, Admiral or not.

Whoever had designed this plan would expect him to ask for reinforcements, but he didn't need them. His superiority, numerically and otherwise, over the Rebel forces was more than enough, and that would be what he would write in his report when everything finished. Horax smiled in anticipation, but when he took a look at the first readings appearing on the tactical screen the smile faded.

"Where in the hell has Garil gotten all those fighters from? There are just too many B-Wings, and A-Wings!!??"

"Captain, that is not Garil, at least the readings we are taking don't match with the ones we had from his Frigate..."

"Launch all our squadrons right now! And I want a positive identification of the Frigate ASAP!"

"Yes, sir." The man obeyed, retransmitting his orders to the TIE squadron's leaders. "Should I call Muldron for reinforcements?"

"Only when and if I order you to do so, Lieutenant." Horax replied coldly. He didn't know what was happening, but he didn't want some arrogant guy in a Star Destroyer coming here to do his job. Not if he wanted to have his own Destroyer soon.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, sir?" Captain Kaban, his Second in Command on board the Thennef approached him. He was a grey officer, one of those who expected to keep climbing the ranks, just avoiding the risks and fighting as little as he could. Horax didn't look at him to reply.

"Of course I am."
 
 

[Frigate Trailblazer's bridge]

"Very well, Lieutenant." Admiral Garil replied. "Shields and weapons status?"

"Shields at full charge. Cyclops is ready to open fire at your request."

"Excellent. Admiral Ackbar always wanted an opportunity to test that program in real conditions. Too bad he is not here to see it."

"I don't think he would like to be given that chance, sir."

Admiral Garil smiled at the sarcasm. "No, I suppose he wouldn't... One more thing before the combat, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir?"

"It has been a privilege to have you in my crew. Thank you very much."

The Rodians' facial expression was almost indistinguishable for humans, but Garil thought he had detected a slight trace of Lieutenant Deeggo's emotions when he replied.

"You're welcome, sir. The privilege has been mine."

The Rodian was one of the few people who had remained with him. Garil had needed to order the rest of his bridge officers to leave - twice in some cases - and in the case of his Second Officer, Captain Collins, he had to threaten him with being court-martialled. You will understand when you get older, Collins,  I just couldn't do this to someone so young. Only Commander Louyan didn't ask for explanations, although the Admiral didn't have the slightest doubt about his real feelings. He would have liked to have a private talk with him, probably his oldest living friend, but there was no time for that. At least you will have a chance to see the end of this, Ilych. And you, Deeggo, if you weren't the best navigation officer I've ever had, you wouldn't be here right now. Many Rodians have a natural instinct for hunt. Others have used it to become bounty hunters but you decided to join the Alliance instead... The Admiral shook his head. He would have preferred to do this on his own, but it was physically impossible.  From the several hundred people which usually composed a Nebulon B Frigate's crew, if you take out the fighter pilots, the squadrons' technicians, the troops, the medical team, all the auxiliary personnel, whose mission was to keep the whole crew alive and reasonably comfortable, and even the gunners, whose work would be realized by Cyclops, an artificial intelligence program, still under development, you could manage a ship of these dimensions with a very reduced crew.  But some people were indispensable. A couple of engineers taking care of the engines and the shields, someone to supervise Cyclops' performance and the rest of the computer systems, and someone to help the Captain pilot the vessel. There were a dozen of people onboard the Trailblazer, and three persons on board every Corvette. Garil knew that all of them were going to die, nobody could avoid that, and he hated to drag these loyal and courageous beings with him. That was the only thought that made him doubt when this plan had shown up in his mind, while he talked with the pilot from White Squadron.

During all the discussions and plans she had kept staring at him, with a silent question in her eyes. Why? Why had he attacked all those convoys and supply stations, killing everyone aboard? His only answer had been to activate the holoprojector and showing her what had been the beginning of everything. He had kept an eye on her the whole time while she watched the recording in silence. He didn't need to look at the projector, every detail of the terrible scene was impressed in his mind with more clarity than any machine could produce. That woman had watched everything without blinking and without saying a single word, but he had saw her paling with her hands firmly clenched on her chair's arms. When the image turned out, there was a tear trying to escape from her eyes, but she didn't allow it. She'd seen much suffering in her life, Garil had realized that while he looked at her, waiting for some comment, although her expression showed that this was beyond her own experience. When she finally looked at him, there was understanding in her eyes, but the question was still there.

Why?

He had wondered the same thing many times during the last three weeks, but in that moment he had tried desperately to obtain an answer. Part of him tried to argue that everything had been for the prisoners, but the Admiral knew this was not entirely true. He had lost the hope of rescuing them after the first week, and he had only recovered it when Lieutenant Commander Schroeder told him they had a chance to intercept Harrier's group. Why the Imperials had not reached their destination yet, that was a mystery. Even with his struggling to prevent them from docking anywhere or receive any supplies, he had never know where exactly they were, and the Imperial convoy could have rendezvoused with a bigger fleet at any moment. They hadn't found any trace of that fleet, although it was obvious the Imperials were sweeping the galaxy looking for him. In the worst of cases the Harrier should have been in Muldron a week ago.

But the reason for this strange delay didn't matter now. The only important thing was that now they had a chance to rescue his people, at least those who survived the battle and Gaudeamus' explosion. But two hours ago, he didn't know anything about that, and nevertheless he had ordered to shoot against a disarmed civilian convoy.

It was vengeance, nothing but vengeance, and years of hate and frustration, seeing how the Empire committed one crime after another, without him being able to do anything to prevent it. He had been out of his mind since the moment when he had to look at that woman being tortured and murdered. Lieutenant Shillis was her name, he would never be able to forget it, although he had forgotten most of the names of the people he had seen die during his life. Lieutenant Shillis. He had checked the database and had obtained all the information the New Republic had about her. Her first name was Cleo. That name had haunted him all this time, wondering what her life could have been if the Empire had never existed. Rage grew inside of him every time these thoughts invaded him, feeding the fire of his own madness. Madness, at last he accepted it. He had been more than a little mad, allowing hate to turn him into what he detested the most, in a monster as evil as the Imperials he had been fighting a half of his life. When he thought of Cleo, as he sometimes allowed himself to call her, he couldn't help but imagining her relatives and friends mourning her, and the mere idea was enough to make him feel sick, feel an even bigger desire to kill. But he had caused the same kind of pain to more families than he could even think of. Realizing that had been terrible, a hammer hitting what remained of his conscience, and he would have killed himself in that same moment if he hadn't had a mission to accomplish, the only one that had any sense: to help to rescue his men.

Still, he regretted being unable to do it on his own, completely alone. The officers who where about to share this last combat with him were all volunteers, including the Corvettes' Captains, who were piloting their ships themselves. A crude and ironic thought crossed through his mind, when the stars appeared again in front of him as the Trailblazer exited from hyperspace, with the Imperial base exactly in the middle of the view screen. He was going to risk the lives of many people, and at least the ones on board the Trailblazer and the Corvettes would certainly die, to rescue no more than twenty or thirty people. But there was nothing else he could do now. He wouldn't return and be court-martialled for war crimes. His life couldn't finish like that. His whole mind rejected violently the mere thought, threatening to bring the insanity back again. There was no way back for him, only forward, and at least he and his last loyal officers would find their destiny fighting against the real enemy. The hate was still there, but this time he would use it for something good.

"Lieutenant Deeggo, inform me about the Imperial activity."

"They are starting to launch fighters, sir, and the base's batteries are locking on us, but they are being hindered by the ships on the docks. There are two capital ships, a Victory Class and an Imperial Class Star Destroyers. The readings indicate that they are initiating the maneuvers to abandon the docks."

"Yes, I see them. What about the screen ships?"

"I've got two Imperial Class Star Destroyers and a total amount of... twelve Corvettes patrolling the sector. There are three Carrack Cruisers, too. We have surprised them, exactly as you predicted." There was a note of admiration in the Rodian's voice. "They are turning in this direction, probably called back by the base's Commander."

"Excellent." His expert eyes watched the general map of the situation, placing all the ships and installations, while his mind considered several alternatives of action in seconds. Their goal was to delay the Imperials as long as possible, keeping them busy enough as to not attend the calls for help they undoubtedly would receive from Harrier's group. He smiled slightly when he found what he was looking for.

"Hunter and Tideria, provide us cover from the first wave of fighters and attack the nearest section of the docks. Lieutenant Deeggo, let's see if we can give that Victory Class' Captain the worst departure maneuver of his entire life."

"A pleasure, sir."
 
 

[Space around the Imperial task force]

"Bomber Flight, follow me." Moose ordered. "It's your turn, Torpedo."

Moose's voice sounded in Torpedo's headphones. He and Sparks had the critical mission to launch a first salvo of torpedoes against the Corvette carrying the prisoners, while the rest of the Squadron attacked the Frigates to divert their attention. When the Imperial ship's shields fell they should disable it before the Nebulon A Frigates or their fighter complement had time to protect it. To do so they would have to fly between the two capital ships and under the fire from the Corvette. A very dangerous pass if he had ever made one, but he had designed this tactic and he wanted to be the first one taking the risks. Moose had understood that and had allowed him to do it. Torpedo hoped he'd still feel grateful a minute later. The two B-Wings abandoned the formation, escorted by a flight of four A-Wings from Vyper's group, led by Ibero.

"Roger that, Captain." Torpedo acknowledged. "Sparks, launch yours on my mark." 


"I'm ready, mate. Let's do it." Sparks had lock tone since ten seconds before, but he knew that Torpedo wanted to do it closer, to reduce the Corvette's chances to evade the warheads or to shoot down any of them. They were now at only three klicks from their target, and the Imperial fighters were almost over them. Come on, Torpedo, we don't need to shove them out the launch tube with our hands... He had a finger on the trigger waiting for his flight leader's signal. When he heard it a squeeze was enough to send the two torpedoes towards his target.

"There they go!" His two warheads followed Torpedo's closely. Sparks moved his finger out of the trigger as if it burned. If by accident someone launched another pair of torpedoes at the Corvette, the ship's hull would collapse and kill everybody inside of it. He had seen it before. The pilot selected the ion cannons and prepared himself for a very thrilling pass, to say the least.
 
 

[Onboard Corvette Harrier]

"Proton torpedoes!" He exclaimed. Before he was able to stand up two new hits left the entire ship trembling like a willow. The lights flickered for an instant.

"Somebody's attacking the ship!"  He didn't see who said it, but it was a fairly obvious conclusion. The ship maneuvered so hard that they could feel the turn even with the artificial gravity. There were no windows in the detention block, so they couldn't see what was going on. But something was happening out there, that was for sure.

"Everybody on your feet!" he ordered. "If we're going to have a chance to do something for ourselves, it'll be in the next few minutes..." The looks of his men were on him. Looks of anxiety and expectation, but looks of hope, too, for the first time since they were captured.
 
 

[In the battle]

The Joan d'Arc had joined the fight.
 



"All the energy to the forward shields!" Captain Orris ordered. They were starting to receive fire from the Nebulon A covering Harrier's right flank, but the other one was hindered by the Corvette and this first Frigate. If he and Admiral Garil were right, the second ship would maneuver over the other two vessels to take a position where they could shoot at the Joan d'Arc. That would leave the Corvette's bottom and part of the left flank uncovered, allowing the two armoured transports to approach it. Up till now the tactic was perfect. What none of them had mentioned was that an Imperial Nebulon A, with its twin forward sections, practically doubled the Joan d'Arc's fire power, and if there were two of them the odds were clearly against them. Only Captain Gregory's B-Wings could make a difference, but in the best of cases the New Alliance Frigate couldn't stand more than five minutes where it was.

"Captain, the other Frigate is climbing to take fire position!"

Good girl, Orris thought. "Forget it. Concentrate the fire on the closest one. Rammes, I told you all the energy to the forward shields!"

"I did it, sir." The chief technician's voice came through the intercom. The man was terribly good in his work, and he knew the Joan d'Arc better than anybody else. He had been onboard this ship since its capture from the Imperials, and he had even acted as emergency Captain during the Frigate's first mission, but right now Orris needed the best from him.

"It's not enough, Lieutenant! You can do better."

"Yes, sir..."

Orris moved his eyes out of the shield indicators. He knew that if there was somebody able to extract a bit more of energy from the ship's engines that was Lieutenant Rammes. He turned to the officer attending the scanners.

"What about the transports?"

"I've got them, sir. They are approaching Harrier as expected."

"Very well." He didn't say anything more. Everybody knew what they had to do. Five minutes, in that time they would have succeeded or failed, there was no middle ground.
 
 
 

[Onboard Corvette Harrier]

"All right, let's open this damned door." Captain Sera whispered. With the ship's main engines out of order the magnetic locks wouldn't be working, and if they pushed the door towards its niche hard enough, they might be able to open  it. Nevertheless, nobody could know what they would find at the other side. Probably there would be at least a pair of stormtroopers guarding the detention block's entrance. Sera was ready to take the first shot, if it only gave his people a chance to overpower the guards and strike back. But they couldn't just wait. If there was somebody out there trying to rescue them, the Captain of this ship would order the troops to kill the prisoners before anybody could reach them.

He clenched his teeth and pushed with all his strength. Three of his men were helping him, including a strong Trandoshan sergeant who had been one of Gaudeamus' gunners. The door creaked open.

At last good luck! he thought when he saw the two stormtroopers in front of him. One of them had removed his helmet for a moment just before the ship was attacked. Whether he wanted to breathe some fresh air or just scratch his nose, Sera was grateful for it. The fact was that he must have hit his head on a wall when the torpedoes hit the ship, falling  unconscious to the floor. His partner was attending him when the door opened. He turned his head in that direction when he heard the noise, raising his assault rifle towards the prisoners coming out, but Captain Sera kicked his head in his best Academy ball-player style before he had a chance to shoot. The weapon fell to the floor, followed by the stormtrooper. Sera couldn't know if this soldier was the same who had hit him twice back on the bridge, but he felt really good thinking so.

"Good kick, Captain," the Trandoshan said behind him.

"Thank you, Trosk. Let's take their weapons. We are going to have company coming from this corridor very soon!"

"Two of us could take their armour and try to deceive their partners." A second officer proposed.

"Good thinking, Ren, but I don't think we'll have time for that. They will be more useful where they are."

He took a rifle and flattened himself on the floor behind one of the fallen stormtroopers. Other man imitated him, while the rest of the prisoners remained behind the walls. There was nothing else they could use as a barricade, because the only furniture in the detention block were the beds, and they couldn't be removed from the walls. Sera aimed his weapon to the farthest end of the corridor. Five seconds later the first stormtrooper appeared there. Sera killed him with a direct shot to the chest. The officer at his right did the same with the second one, but the next soldiers would be more careful. They had to hide as best as they could behind the two fallen guards when a laser burst passed at mere inches over their heads. They returned fire, but this time they couldn't hit anybody. With only two rifles the prisoners couldn't hold out there for long.

Now is when the cavalry needs to show up...