Balto: Wreckage and Rescue

Author: Starwarsisme
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Vader, Balto, Luke Skywalker, Jenna and various other officers and troopers
Category: Adventure

Disclaimer: All Star Wars characters, locations and concepts belong to George Lucas. Balto and other characters are copyright of Universal Studious and Amblin Entertainment.

Part of this was inspired by Rotramel the writer's "A forbiddion love" and Lone Wolf_fanwriters "Balto: A new life"

Summary: For years, Commander Balto has had an 'interesting' job as Lord Vader's faithful aide-de-camp. Now things are getting downright out of hand as he finds himself marooned in a broken fragment of Lord Vader's flagship, the Executor, after the battle of Endor. To make matters worse, he seems to have picked up a ghostly 'helper'.

PROLOUGE

Balto has been with the Empire for several years. One of his greatest victories was the capture of Princess Leia Organa on the Tantive IV. He is second in command of Darth Vader’s personal flagship the Executor. At 8,000 meters long the Executor was the largest traditional starship ever constructed by the Imperial navy. Only the Death Star was larger. Jenna, his mate, is also is in the same section of the ship, but Balto has no clue where she is. Balto is on level 44. The Admiral of the fleet is a tall and composed human male named Piett. Piett stood before a transparisteel veiwport and surveyed the battle. The bridge was positioned at the bow—usually the most venerable part of a starship. It was protected by a strong energy shield. The bridge provided a view that was better than any part of the ship.

Behind Piett, a long walkway extended to the Captains control station. The walkway was without railings, and on either side the floor dropped off to expose the bridge’s lower level. There, gray uniformed Imperial technicians operated their console stations. The technicians had an excellent view of Piett’s feet.

Two Rebel fighters fired at the, round sphericl-shaped defector shields of the Executor. They blew up and the shock was felt through out the ship.

“Sir, we’ve lost our bridge defector shields!” an Imperial officer called from his console. Piett turned around quickly and stared down at the dog.

“Intensify the forward batteries! I don’t want anything to get through!” Piett siad.

Two other Rebel fighters spun out of control towards the bridge. One fighter blew up but the other was still coming. The A-wing burst into flames and shot near the bridge. The pilots sacrifice was to crash into the bridge of the Executor.

“Intensify forward firepower!” Piett screamed, losing his composure.

“Too late!” the other officer yelled.

Both officers jumped into lower level of the control station. The A-wing crashed into the veiwport that Piett was looking out of. Everyone in the bridge died instantly. The Executor was slowly pulled down by the Death Star’s gravitonal pull and hit the surface. The ship went up in a blaze and the Executor was no more.

Part One

It’s so cold. Balto lay curled on his side in darkness, shivering in the deep chill, aching all over.

“Commander Balto, rise!”

The voice held a tone of absolute command, waking him, cutting through the haze that held him in thrall.

“Stand up!”

With a sharp shudder Balto opened his eyes and scrambled to his paws, retrieving his hat from where it lay on the deck. He was in a corridor half-filled with wreckage tumbled from various compartments by the wild motion of the starship. Harsh emergency lighting provided the only illumination. An odd feeling of vertigo provided evidence the artificial gravity was damaged.

“Who – who’s there?” he croaked. His muscles shivered convulsively in the icy air and put his hat on as he staggered stiffly forward. His breath drifted away in soft clouds of condensation. He could see no other living person in the corridor, nor could he hear any intra-ship announcements or alarms. The stillness was unnatural. A faint, acrid smell of burning stung his nostrils.

“Ship’s been hit,” Balto concluded under his breath, quickly surveying the brutal evidence provided by the scattered bodies of star destroyer personnel. They seemed to have died from blunt trauma – crushed by machinery or heavy droids as the ship lost both gravity and power in its spinning trajectory through space. Balto took a cautious step forward. Then, he feared for his mate, Jenna, had been on this part of the ship when it had been hit, “hopefully she’s alright.” Balto thought. While his legs ached from the tumble and sported a number of bleeding scratches, he seemed to be more or less whole and with that knowledge came the responsibility of his rank.

“My men.” He looked up and down the corridor but saw no sign of the stormtroopers under his command. His own comlink was lost. Rummaging about in the debris, he spotted the edge of a trooper’s utility belt and dragged it out from under a smashed maintenance droid. Fastening it around his waist, he pulled the comlink free and hit the key.

“Platoons RM-39, AR-277, MZ-420, this is Commander Balto. Report in.” A long silence ensued, punctuated only by the gentle hiss and crackle of the carrier.

“Commander, Private Kaltag RM-39-06, here.” The private’s voice was a low croak.

Balto’s heart leaped. At least one of his men was alive. “Private! State your location and condition.”

“I’m… On level 59, section A-4, near the forward lateral turbolaser batteries. My leg’s cut up a bit, but otherwise I’m all right. We’re on emergency lighting, though, and I haven’t had any transmissions from the bridge or chain of command for over 25 minutes.”

“How many are with you?” Balto asked.

“From our unit… four, Sir. We’ve pulled together any surviving crew we could find as well.” A pause as Kaltag queried his companions. “We’ve got three technicians, two gun crew, a fire control ensign – he’s not in good shape, and that’s all we could find so far. Haven’t mounted a full search of the adjoining compartments yet. Corporal Star has a medpac and is doing what he can for the injured.”

“Is anyone able-bodied enough to assist in a search?” asked Balto, frowning as he sought to reconcile his own position with that of his men.

“Corporal Star, Sir. He’s the only one with both arms and legs working. I’ll be able to walk once he patches my leg.”

“Have him attend to the wounded. You can search once you’ve been seen to. How is hull integrity up there?”

“Atmosphere feels all right, I don’t think we’re leaking, at least not yet. Blast door up the hall is sealed, however.”

Balto considered this information while assessing his own position. “I think it’s leaking down here. Its freezing cold, I suspect some of the compartments have been vented. Sit tight, Private, and I’ll come to you. I’m on Level 44, so I’ve got a bit of a hike ahead of me. Keep monitoring the com – let me know if anyone else in command checks in. I’ll collect everyone I can find on the way over.”

“Yes, Sir. Kaltag out.” The comlink clicked off.

Balto attached the comlink to the utility belt and, after orienting himself, set off down the hall. He wasn’t sure how badly the massive ship had been damaged, but this section was certainly out of commission. A bank of turbolifts clustered at a juncture point, but they sat blank and dark. Balto sighed at that. “No power. Figures.” Muttering under his breath, he found the emergency access hatches flanking the lifts and with some effort wrestled one open. A gust of arctic air greeted him as he peeked cautiously up the tube. Open gridded metal stairs spiraled upward as far as he could see. The stairs appeared clear and he did not smell any smoke, which was one good point.

He shivered again as he entered the access way and began to climb. “Wished I’d gotten suited-up before this party broke.” Being an officer and in a staff meeting, he had been clothed in day uniform rather than his armor when the call to battle sounded. Now he missed the protection from cold and vacuum that the standard troopers’ suit provided. Unfortunately the decks housing the stormtrooper units and spare armor were far removed from his current position. The thought of stripping a suit from a fallen comrade was unappealing, but the situation might well demand it of him. So far he had not seen any slain troopers and, while that was cheering, it literally left him in the cold. Also in the back of his mind was worry over Lord Vader, whom he served as aide-de-camp as required. The Dark Lord had taken a shuttle to be with the Emperor aboard the Death Star and had not yet returned.

“All right, worrying about it isn’t going to help. I’ll deal with my men first, and attend to Lord Vader when I can find him.” Letting his paws trail on the railings Balto climbed as quickly as he could. At each level he checked the access hatch. Red telltale lights revealed hard vacuum beyond the hatchway. He went onward. After several levels he heard the soft creak of stressed metal echoing along the shaft. “How bad were we hit?” he wondered aloud as he tried to hurry his pace. “Bad enough, I suppose.” His heart labored and he panted heavily, trying to draw in enough air to support his physical activity. “C’mon, I know I’m in good shape!” Balto thought about it for a minute. “Atmosphere’s thin and getting thinner.” The conclusion was unwelcome. Metal groaned again, louder. Balto paused and looked up. Somewhere high above in the shaft a large object shifted slightly.

“Move!”

At the prompting of the voice, Balto scrambled desperately upward to the next level, gaining the slight protection of the access hatch. He wedged himself into that small opening as the groan of metal became a terrible, rending shriek. As he watched