the living.”

The glimmering man grinned suddenly, looking young and vital. “If you do not want to go into the Force so quickly, I am permitted to help you.” He pointed down the dark tunnel of the corridor. “Two intersections from here is the main control for the blast doors in this entire section of the ship. If you hot-wire them, I will see about restoring power long enough to run them all closed.”

“Can you do that?” Balto was already moving in the direction the Jedi had indicated, pulling a small light from his belt. “I will.”

The glowing man faded away as he moved off. Balto trotted down the gloomy hall with his light providing a bobbing little area of illumination, jumping over the occasional mound of debris. “Jedi on the Executor. How did that happen?” he wondered, shaking his head. “And why do I trust him?” He could not articulate any reason for that trust, but there it was, making him take the strange Jedi’s suggestions as if they were orders from the Emperor himself.

At last Balto found the large panel housing the controls for the section’s blast doors. Taking out the few tools he had borrowed from Jenna, he removed the panel covers. Underneath, half the wiring was fused. He glared at it, propped his light up on a pile of wreckage, sat before the ruined tangle, and stripped away the wires that looked the least damaged. When he had amassed enough wire, he began cross-connecting the leads. For that delicate task he removed his gloves. His paws quickly went numb and stiff in the cold air and he noticed his breath was visible in the small beam of his light.

“Nome is starting to feel like a fond memory,” he muttered, trying to wrap a bit of bare wire around the small metal terminal nub and pricking his fingers for his trouble.

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d grown up on Tatooine.” The Jedi moved gracefully up from the deck to one side, passing easily through the durasteel as if it were air. “The power is ready.” He looked at the mass of wires hanging from the control panel. “Excellent, you’re almost done.” 

Balto flinched at the uncanny feat. “You’re a ghost!” Sweat sprang out on his cold fur. He clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering.

“No, a Force-spirit.” The Jedi corrected him almost absently, pointed at a stray wire. “Connect that one over here.”

“There’s a difference?” The ancient legends of derelict ships crewed by the spirits of the dead danced through Balto’s mind even as his paws followed the Jedi’s instructions. To meet a ghost aboard ship almost certainly meant you were doomed to the same fate. “I don’t want to serve forever on the Red Rowan. Or the Executor, for that matter.”

“All will be well.” The Jedi spoke soothingly as he pointed at another relay.

“That is the last one. Once it is connected, the doors will close.”

“Good. No time like the present.”

“Wait a moment, we’re forgetting something…” The Jedi scratched his head as if trying to aid his memory.

“It can’t be anything too important. You fixed the power; I fixed the wiring, so we’re ready.” Balto drew on his gloves, worked a hook into the end of the last wire and quickly clipped it over the terminal the Jedi had indicated. At once the sounds of the motors powering the blast doors echoed from many places.

“Balto! You’re on the wrong side of the doors!” The Jedi waved at him urgently, pointing down the hall. “Run, run now!”

“Damn it!” Balto sprinted away from the control panel toward the juncture point where a set of blast doors were closing all too fast. He would have cursed his stupidity, but there wasn’t enough extra air for the effort. He ran, his lungs burning in the icy atmosphere. Ahead of him, the doors irised ponderously toward closure. The gravity felt somewhat lighter than normal and Balto risked a long dive toward the shrinking gap. He pitched through, feeling the doors scrape his boot-soles as he cleared the barrier and measured his length on the deck. The heavy clang behind him sounded ominously final.

For several minutes he laid face-down on the deck, trying and slowly succeeding at getting air into his strained lungs. When he was sure he could see again, he pulled himself up onto his legs, felt around, retrieved his small light, and stood up carefully. His entire chest felt as if it was smoldering slowly and he grimaced at the sensation. “Should’ve thought to take a painkiller with me.” He began to make his way back to the section housing his men. “I don’t suppose falling on broken ribs does them any good.” He set off at a slow walk, trying to breathe gently.

The trip back in the dark seemed far longer than when his way had been lit by the emergency lights. At last the circle of lamplight fell on an obstruction. Balto stopped and stared in disbelief. A pair of blast doors, unnoticed by him as he left on his mission, had closed just two rooms away from where he had left his men, walling him off between the two main sections. He placed his gloved paws on the doors. They were quite solid and real. He touched the control panel, but the power that had moved the doors shut had faded away; there was no way to open them short of a heavy beam cutter.

His comlink crackled and he plucked it from his belt and switched it on. “This is Balto.”

“Commander, you did it! The blast doors are all closed!” Kaltag’s voice was relieved. “Where are you?”

“Closer than you think,” said Balto. He leaned forward and let his forehead touch the metal of the door. It was like ice and he jerked back. “But not close enough.”

“What? What’s your location, Sir?”

“Two rooms from your current position – behind a set of blast doors I overlooked.”

“What?!” Balto heard a confused babble arise as Kaltag relayed Balto’s information to his companions. Soon he heard a metallic tapping on the other side of the barrier. “This door?” Kaltag asked as he tapped.

Balto lifted a pair of pliers from his belt and tapped back. “Yes, this is the one.”

“How do I open it?”

“I don’t think you can.” Balto made a face at the door.

“Hold your position, Sir! Captain Jenna is here.” After a bit of rustling, Jir heard Jenna’s voice.

“Balto, how did you manage to get yourself on the wrong side of the doors?” Her tones were strained with worry.

“Sheer talent,” he said dryly. “I barely made it through one set, but forgot about this one. Couldn’t be helped, the main control panel was all the way down at the other end of this corridor.”

“Stars. We can’t leave you stuck out there, you’ll freeze.”

“Am freezing,” Balto replied, watching the white smoke his speech generated drift away in curls from the beam of his light. The effects of adrenaline, injury, and effort were starting to make themselves known. His muscles shivered uncontrollably and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. Sleep in this cold would be fatal, he knew.

“Commander Balto, listen to me.” Jenna spoke firmly and calmly. “There will be another wardroom a few compartments away from these doors – a twin to the one we’re set up in. Inside will be a small technician's break room with blankets. Grab as many as you need, but come back and wait here. I’m going to take some of the dogs and look for a portable power supply or droid. Once I have that, I’ll be able to jury-rig the doors open, all right? Don’t give up!”

“Not yet, I still have my mate to save.” said Balto, nodding at the comlink and then realizing Jenna could not see the gesture. “Very good, Captain, carry on. I’ll be here.” He cut the connection and pushed the encroaching fog of despair into the back of his mind. Turning his light into the corridor again he set off to search out the wardroom. “I’m not going to live this one down. Assuming I live.” Laughing hurt, but he chuckled anyway. It was morbid humor, but it raised his spirits.

Constrained by his stiffening muscles and the thin air, Balto felt as if he were moving over a tanglefoot zone. It took almost half an hour to find the small break room nested in the larger wardroom and ‘liberate’ a number of blankets. Returning at last to the doors with his trove of warm material, he wrapped himself up snugly to settle down with his back against the threshold. His chest ached abominably and he wished again for the painkillers to be found in the standard medpac. The thought of wandering around in the dark looking for one did not appeal to him. “Guess I’ll wait for a little,” he muttered. The warmth felt good and his shivers eased.

“Balto, you must not sleep. Wake up!”

“Wha…” Balto started as the voice tugged him back to wakefulness. “’M not asleep. Not really.” He rubbed his paw into one eye and yawned.

The glowing Jedi stood before him, hands on his hips, frowning at the blast door. “I thought you were safely inside with your people.”

“Well, I would be, but I forgot about this extra pair of doors, and I haven’t your talent for walking through walls.” Jir paused for air and found a cough escaping despite his best effort. “I don’t suppose you could drag me through there?”

The Jedi shook his head. “Not unless you were in the same state as I am, and you said earlier you didn’t want to go into the Force so quickly. Have you changed your mind?” He looked at Jir curiously.

“No, thanks.” Balto spoke between coughs. “I rather like being alive.” He scowled. “Although it might be a moot point soon enough; feels like the air’s getting thinner. It’s hard to breathe.”

“It is. There must be some pinpoint leaks in this section. The separation of this piece from the main hull of the ship was not clean, there are stress fractures everywhere. From outside, you can see the damage – it’s most impressive in an ugly sort of