"Sir, he is here. " The trooper took a step back.

Veers cast a quick glance into the dark aperture. "Is that you, Renkil? Come inside. I was waiting for you." The general's voice was almost friendly.

The soldier was detained between positions of Rebel and Imperial forces. He had no weapon and no identity. He had been brought to the general under guard. "Yes, sir! It's me," the soldier answered and saluted to the general.

"So, you decided to use this nice morning to get some clean fresh air, didn't you? Am I correct?" The voice of General Veers was frightenly steady and quiet, as before. His leaden glance pressed the soldier almost to the floor. The answer was a dead silence.

Veers turned to the escort: "Now leave us."

The stormtroopers left. Veers pressed a button on the control panel and shut the heavy armored door. The depressing and vicious quiet hung in the room. Veers looked at the soldier. He didn't need any identity-- he knew that one very well. The soldier was one of his lieutenants and the younger son of his good friend.

"Do you know what is in store for you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, give me your explanation." Veers' voice was quiet and his face absolutely inscrutable as before.

The lieutenant hid nothing. He told how he was tired with that unending war. He had not been able to sleep almost six days and nights. The uninterrupted raids by Rebels exhausted him. He hated this war. He was going not to betray anyone; he was only going to surrender. He was unexpectedly eloquent, that tall, beautiful young man with black hair and bright blue, nearly insane eyes. He said he was only twenty-two years old, and he had made a mistake-- it is so naturally-- everybody can make mistakes if he is twenty-two years old. He had a family, a fiancée, nice friends. All life is in front of him. He will make amends before the Empire.

Veers was suffering, but he continued to keep silent. This wasn't the first time he was a participant in a scene like this one, and he knew very well that it was just empty formality. The cruel ending was inevitable. But he was in pain.

"Sir, what will my family, my relatives, say when they are told how I was shot by firing squad in front of the line as some last scoundrel?! Sir, please! General!!" He rushed to the floor and put his arms around Veers' boots.

"Stand up!" the chilling, ruthless voice answered. "You will not evoke any sympathy in me, Renkil," Veers said, and a dangerous metallic shine appeared in the depth of his gray eyes. It was the first sign of rising fury. "The other soldiers saw you. Five or six more soldiers like you, and the army will be destroyed. You will die, you know it, Renkil. But I will save your reputation and the reputation of your family. Nobody will know about your disgrace and treason. Your family will get an official letter. You perished during a battle, as befits a soldier of the Empire. Let's go!"

The lieutenant didn't move.

"Follow me!!" the voice of General Veers rang.

They went out of the room. Four stormtroopers followed after them.

The lieutenant walked behind Veers. The ground was covered with snow and ice. That snowy shroud twinkled and shimmered with billions of colorful glints. Soon the icy sparks planed on Veers' armor. When they reached a big ice mound which hid them from curious eyes, Veers stopped. "Here." The general took out his blaster pistol and gave it to the lieutenant. "This is an opportunity to avoid the military court. I will be back in five minutes. Everything must be finished. You know what will happen to your family and all your relatives if you will try to kill me and run away. Now I am giving to you a chance to leave like a man. It is all." The general left.

Not a single sound disturbed the quiet of frosty, shining morning. Veers returned.

The lieutenant waited for him. His lips were white and shacking. "I can't do it, my general," he whispered. "I just can't--" and it began again-- the words about parents, a fiancée--

Veers had lost so many soldiers, friends, and his own relatives during this war, that even a reminder about these losses was unbearable. The volley of terrible, cruel and blasphemously filthy words flew to the lieutenant. The blood knocks against the temples and one man kills another one after words like these.

"I will give you five more minutes again! Don't make me wait for you."

When the general came back again, the lieutenant was lying in the snow, the blaster near him.

Then General Veers lifted him up and looked straight into his eyes, and said with a quiet and heartfelt voice, "My friend, maybe don't you know how to do it?" He took the blaster in his palm, took three steps back and lifted his hand.

The lieutenant closed his eyes. He felt an intolerable heat burn his cheek and singe his hair. He waited for the next and last shot.

But it didn't follow. The lieutenant opened his eyes.

General Veers was still standing in front of him. He held the blaster in his hand and looked at Renkil with unseeing eyes.

The lieutenant hid his face in his palms. He was not able to look into those eyes.

Veers turned around and walked away. His feet got tangled for a moment, but then his steps became as firm and confident as always. He didn't cast even one glance back.

The lieutenant sat on the snow without moving, hiding his face in his palms. Only a few strange, wheezing sounds escaped his throat and disturbed the twinkly quiet of that beautiful frosty morning. Icy diamonds playfully reflected all the colors of the rainbow into his blue-black hair.