shriek. As he watched in fascination, one of the lifts tore free of its mounting and fell down the shaft, caroming off the walls as it came. Balto pressed back into his little alcove and waited. Seconds later the lift hurtled by his position, trailing bits of broken metal and cables that slashed the air wildly like the tendrils of some wounded alien beast. A cable end snapped past his head, knocking off his hat and notching a piece out of the durasteel above. It wasn’t until he felt the warm trickle of blood on his face that he realized he had been cut on the forehead. Occasional swipes with his sleeve kept the blood from running into his eyes until the little rivulet dried up. 

The immediate danger over, Balto resumed his climb until he reached Level 50. There he discovered the falling lift had ruined the stairway from that point onward. He could go no higher. Fortunately the telltales on the hatch showed green rather than airless red. Once again he worked with the locks holding the hatch closed. After some effort and cursing, the hatch opened, allowing him into the level itself. He peered through the portal and coughed as the acrid smell of charred electronics wafted to his nose and caught at his lungs. Keeping low to avoid the pall of smoke, Balto entered the corridor and began working his way toward the next set of vertical lifts, keeping an eye out for survivors as he went. This section seemed to be in even worse shape than the one he had left, with the mangled bodies of crew piled in heaps along the walls. The sight gave him chills.

“What happened here?” he asked himself as he skirted a mound of the slain. A wave of vertigo gave him some warning. “The gravity generator!” Pulling the grapple from his utility belt, he made it fast to a stanchion as the gravity first fluctuated then abruptly changed the orientation of ‘down’ from floor to ceiling. Everything in the corridor fell onto the ceiling. Jir, arrested by his line, hung from the floor, fighting disorientation and trying not to look too closely at the horrible mess.

“Sithspawn.” Now progress became even slower as Balto was forced to belay himself at stages as he went. The gravity changed at random intervals, making free movement nearly impossible. Worst was when the gravity finally slewed around to point down the length of the corridor, causing everything not tied down to plunge away into the depths. As he had in the lift shaft, Balto anchored himself in the opening of a compartment and prayed nothing large would sweep him from the precarious safety of his shelter. Several times he fell for a few feet before being arrested by his line. His ribs ached and his muscles were screaming at the overuse by the time he rappelled his way to the lift tubes.

These lifts were likewise dark and still. Balto did not bother trying to use them, going instead directly to the access hatch and keying it open. Once in the lift tube he found the air cold but clean, and the stairway leading upward appeared to be intact. The gravity in the tube was lighter, but seemed to have a stable up and down orientation. Pausing to catch his breath he took out the comlink. “Private Kaltag, Commander Balto. Come in.”

“Commander, I copy.”

“How is the gravity generator in your section? On level 50 it’s fluctuating wildly. I found no survivors.”

“The gravity? Seems all right for now, Sir. Maybe a little under normal.”

“Assess your location. I’ve got a nasty feeling the gravity generators are losing power. So far the lift tubes are the only place where they’re working normally. Get yourselves to a sheltered position where you won’t be crushed if the gravity reverses and secure everyone to the deck. Use safety line procedures if you’ve got to go anywhere.” Balto glanced at the luminous number on the wall of the lift shaft. “I’m on level 55 now, I should be there fairly soon.”

Very good, sir. I’ll leave the nav beacon on so you can home in on us.”

“Excellent. Balto out.” A groan startled him and he hesitated. “Is anyone alive?” he called. Another moan of pain answered him.

“Help…” The voice was faint, but definitely close.

Easing himself back through the access portal Balto carefully made his way to the lift tubes. One of them was now partly open and a paw dangled out into the corridor. The fingers twitched slightly. “Hold on, I’ll get you out.” The lift doors yielded after some diligent effort and he was able to pull the injured dog out into the hall. For the moment the gravity was actually normal. The person Balto pulled out, he loved with all his heart.

Her face was so blackened by soot he could not tell if she was OK. Balto brushed the soot off her face. A great oozing lump swelled on her head, but other than that Balto could see no obvious injuries. Carefully he carried her into the marginally greater safety of the lift tube access, propped her into a sitting position, and took a small medkit from his borrowed belt.

After a few minutes her eyes opened and she squinted at him as if trying to bring him into focus. She took in his rank badges and black uniform. Then, she recognized him.

“Balto?” the rust and cream colored Siberian husky murmured. Balto leaned down and kissed her lightly, Jenna continued, “How’d you get up here?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of climbing.” Balto’s voice was dry as he dabbed some antiseptic on her contusion. “You’re the first person I’ve found alive during my travels. I’m going to level 59 to join up with my men, er, well – what’s left of them.”

“Fifty-nine? That should be all right. Got some transmissions from the Black Gang up there before I fell and passed out. Hutt-slime backup gravity generators aren’t worth a damn. I was trying to fix the lift when they failed. If it wasn’t for the fact I fell into the lift itself, I’d have been crushed to pulp with everyone else on this level. May the Dark take all low-bid contractors!”

“Hold still a moment.” Now that Balto had finished doctoring her battered head, she reached out, took the antiseptic and a wad of gauze from him and began to dab at his forehead in turn. Balto sucked in a sharp breath as the antiseptic stung the wound in his scalp.

“You got a nasty cut here, Balto. It’s gonna need sutures or bacta or something.”

“I’m lucky; it could’ve been a lot lower.” He mimed cutting his throat with a paw, smiling as he did so.

She finished cleaning up his cut and flung the bloody bit of gauze over the edge into the gulf of the lift tube. “Me and my crew were supposed to be keeping this tub working.” Jenna made a pained face. “At least until the Rebels blew the crap out of us.” Her expression suddenly became sad. “I appreciate the rescue, but we’re dead, you know.”

“No, we’re not. Why do you say that?” Balto put a hand under her arm and helped Jenna to her paws. She wobbled a little then firmed up. “Come on, let’s get climbing. Moving will do you good. I’m going to rope us together just in case the gravity in the tube decides to go.” Suiting the deed to the words he made a second safety harness out of some line, looped it around the tech and secured it, then measured a length of rope and fastened them together. Once he was sure she understood to follow, he set off up the stairway.

“You weren’t watching the scopes, Balto. The ship has been destroyed. We took a direct hit in the shields and then everything the Rebels threw at us afterward got through.”

“Well, I’ll grant this section doesn’t seem to be in very good shape, but it’s certainly not destroyed.” Balto waited for her to catch up, repositioning his safety line. “Perhaps the ship is salvageable?”

“No, Balto.” Jenna shook her head as she joined him on the narrow landing. “I told you, the ship was wrecked. We’re in a piece – a large fragment – that got shattered off before the entire thing blew. I don’t know what the main hull of the ship hit, I was off trying to fix the lift by then, but I felt the shockwave. It’s gone. The Executor is no more.”

Balto set his jaw stubbornly. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“I can’t show you a holo as proof, no.” She waved a paw at the space around them. “But think about it – no intra-ship communications, power failures, gravity generators are damaged, and many of the compartments are leaking. It all adds up. These capital ships were built to be modular, to survive bad hits and keep on fighting. Many of the sections are independent. As long as the compartments aren’t vented, people will survive in them for awhile. You could tear a big piece out of the ship and it would continue to run for a time.”

“How long would a large fragment survive?” Balto checked the level marker. It read 57. Like most of the other levels, the telltales shone red.

“I don’t know. A couple hours, obviously. Maybe a few days. But once the backup power fails that’ll be it. We’ll either freeze to death or die from lack of oxygen.” She looked suddenly cheerful. “Or maybe we’ll fall into this system’s sun or something? That’d be quicker.”

“Don’t give up. If we’re that large a piece of the ship, someone may well find us. Without shields, our life energy will show up on scanners.” Balto climbed the last set of stairs and waited on the level 59 landing, breathing hard. His lungs ached and he wondered if he had managed to break a few ribs during his traverse of level 50.

“I hadn’t thought of that. Sometimes people do get rescued from wrecked ships. Those old Victory-class cruisers were known for keeping their crews alive after a wreck.” Jenna waited as Balto worked the hatch controls. “What are the odds of our own forces finding us?”

“Pretty good, I’d say. The Rebels should be in full retreat by now.”

“Uh-huh.” Jenna’s tone was neutral, but she said nothing further.

At