they can decide whether my judgment is any good or not.” Balto tucked the papers neatly back into the folder.

“You can meet in your quarters, Commander. I’ll have Captain Jenna sent up this afternoon.” Orvit looked at Balto. “And what about yourself, Commander Balto? Will you be joining us?”

“I don't know, Lieutenant.” Jir frowned slightly as he considered his options. “I need to talk to some people before I decide. Two of those people is Luke Skywalker and Jenna.”

Orvit nodded. “Yes, I remember Dr. Doc and Commander Skywalker mentioning that possibility. Commander Skywalker should be returning fairly soon. I'll mention you’re willing to meet with him once he gets back.”

“Thank you,” said Balto. As he watched Orvit leave the room, he muttered. “No sense in delaying the execution, so to speak.”

“We’re all ready, Commander,” said Lieutenant Tazlon, giving Balto a crisp salute. The Naval officer had become Balto’s informal second in command during their time in Rebel custody. He stood between Balto and the group of dogs and one female dog crowded into the common area of their quarters. All faces regarded Balto expectantly. Many held cups of water or other drinks as they rested from their exercise session. Balto’s own cup was balanced on the edge of a small table, where he had placed the stack of papers.

“Very good.” Balto raised his voice slightly. “Listen up, everyone. I have here official honorable discharges from Imperial Central command. I'm going to hand them out in a minute. I want you to read them thoroughly and hang onto them. With those papers, you've got a number of options open to you. You can return to your home world as a civilian, you can return to Imperial controlled space and apply to rejoin the service, you can head out to someplace entirely new, or you can join the New Republic either as a civvie or a soldier.” While a slight murmur had greeted the news of their discharges, the group had quieted quickly and listened to his words intently.

“I'm not going to give you a lecture on which decision I think is best for you, that's for you to decide.” Balto paused for a moment then plunged ahead. “I will tell you that I am going to stay with the New Republic for now, since I feel I cannot return to the Empire safely. I'll be willing to discuss with you any possible plans once I finish distributing these.” Balto lifted the first set of documents. “Private Tunrin.” The stormtrooper stepped forward to accept his papers and to exchange salutes with his commander.

Methodically, Balto called out the names and handed out the papers.

“I don't understand Sir,” said Corporal Star, as he waited beside his officer. “Why can't you go back to the Empire? I'm only a grunt, but as far as I can see you’ve done nothing wrong to make the brass unhappy, quite the opposite. You're the one who saved all our lives. Think about all you’ve done for the Empire....Lord Vader!”

Balto thought about his greatest victory on the remote ice world of Hoth.

Commander Balto saw the second AT-AT fall, then guided his own walker past its burning hulk. Balto never felt the cold on Hoth, he was used to cold. Without taking his eyes off the veiwport, he addressed Jenna to his right: “Distance to power generators?”

“One seven decimal two-eight.” Jenna responded with absolute accuracy.

A rebel snowspeeder flew into Balto’s path, and Balto took over the weapons controls to angle his walkers cannons and fired. The blast slapped the speeder out of the sky and sent it into a spiral that ended with a fiery explosion in the snow. Balto reached for the electorangefinder and lined up the main Rebel power generator. “Target,” he said “Maximum firepower.” The AT-AT spat out energy beams from its laser cannons, and blew the Generator sky high. Balto was victorious.

Star pointed at the papers on the table. “Those say you can take up your commission again. Nome is near the Imperial core, isn't it?”

Balto thought about Nome and nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“I thought so. Why not go back, then?” He looked at Jir hopefully. “I'd go with you.”

Unnoticed in the busy shuffle, Balto’s water had migrated slowly closer to the edge as the table was bumped repeatedly by the soldiers. At last, as Balto handed another young stormtrooper his honorable discharge, the cup was bumped one time too many, overbalanced, and hopped over the edge. Noticing the movement, Balto made a long arm in an attempt to stop its fall. Balto gripped the hard ceramic in his fingers and lifted the cup to place it back on the table. His eyes widened as he realized that while he felt what he thought was the cup in his paw, he had actually missed the cup by several inches and yet somehow he held it and it floated obediently in front of him. Flinching, he let go and it fell onto the table, causing the contents to slosh out in a small tidal wave. Clear droplets pattered down, barely missing the cover sheet of his papers. Corporal Star watched the entire event in silence, his face mirroring Balto's own surprise and shock.

Picking up a napkin, Balto wiped up the spill, meeting Darklan’s astonished gaze. “That's why,” he said calmly. No one else had noticed the little byplay.

“You've got… it, that thing the Jedi do.” Star waved his paws. “Like Lord Vader?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so. I started noticing it after I came out of the tank.” Jir flexed his fingers and shook his head. The cup had felt so real, even though he was gripping only empty air. “It's been getting stronger, and Force users are still outlawed in the Empire.”

“Permission to speak plainly, Sir?” said Corporal Star.

“Permission granted, Corporal.”

“You're screwed, Sir.”

Balto laughed aloud, causing several heads in the room to turn and look at them curiously. “Tell me something I don't know, Star.”

“Commander Balto, come to me.” The familiar summons echoed as if from a long distance away.

“Yes, my Lord.” Balto walked quickly, head up, scanning the horizon for his Lordship, but saw no one. Sand patterned in complex swirls of dark and light grated under his boots. Balto looked down at the stuff and hesitated.

“I’ve seen this before, I know it. Where was I? What was I doing?” Turning slowly in place, he examined the patterns closely. They seemed to cover the ground in all directions, showing clearly even in places where sand gave way to vegetation. Selecting one of the traceries, he began to follow it, hiking around trees, through fields, and into the mountains. His path led him under a waterfall and into a cavern tunnel, until at last the rough, rocky walls smoothed into durasteel and he found himself in a large chamber. His heart beat faster. Lord Vader stood in that room, his back to Balto, looking down at something on a table in front of him. His hands moved and his head bent forward now and again as if he were working diligently on something.

“Here is the secret – to be strong and yet have a delicate touch. Only the combination yields the results I need.” Lord Vader spoke calmly as he motioned with one hand over whatever was on the table.

A medical droid positioned on the opposite side of the table responded. “Of course, Sir.”

“It is a pity you cannot see it as I do, the magnificent complexity combined with the promise of the Force.” Vader’s fingers flexed slightly and Balto could see a shower of bright bits of light, almost like fine sparks, drift down from his hand toward the table.

“Sir, the patient’s core temperature is rising and he is beginning to suffer respiratory distress. You did say to warn you if the patient began to experience ill effects.” The droid’s voice held concern.

“So I did.” Vader lowered his hands. “I believe I am finished here, anyway. Already his presence in the Force is much stronger.” 

Balto could not see what or who Vader was working on with such intensity. Bright lights beamed down on the work area, and Vader’s bulky frame and long cloak blocked much of Jir’s view. Drawing closer, he caught a glimpse of a black Imperial uniform and he hesitated for a moment, then taking a deep breath, stepped up to the table beside Vader and looked down. A dog in the uniform of a officer lay on the table, the fur on his chest and arms colorful in the brilliant work lights. His face was half-obscured by the medical droid’s various appendages and a length of tubing. Balto risked a glance at Vader. “My Lord, did you call me?” Vader did not seem to either see or hear him.

“His temperature is still rising, Sir,” said the droid, who seemed to be equally blind to Balto’s presence. “I have given him an antipyretic, but he needs to have his temperature stabilized as quickly as possible to avoid damage to the neural tissue.”

“Very well, release him and I will take him to sick bay.”

“Yes, Sir, that would be for the best.” Swiftly the droid began to remove the confusing tangle of tubing that snaked along the officer’s arms and the larger tube that trailed from his mouth. Balto studied the ceiling while this was done. Balto had never much liked medical procedures and found he had no desire to watch them being performed on others. Freed from the tubing, the man on the table heaved a great sigh and ceased breathing.

“Respiratory failure,” said the droid. “Shall I…”

“No!” Vader reached out and placed a hand on the officer’s forehead. Balto felt the air crackle with energy. The officer shuddered and began breathing again in deep gasps. Vader thrust his arms under the dog’s body and lifted him easily, turning toward the doors of his chamber. For the first time Balto had an unobstructed view of the dog’s face. It was a face much like his own, it was him, with messy brown and tan fur, framed by delicate ears, and yellow golden eyes with a