Fifteen To One
by Rob Morris
1
EARTH SHIP SS EXPLORER, REGIONS BORDERING GALAXY ALLIANCE, DRULE AND UNCLAIMED SPACE
"Blast it all!"
Commander Hawkins ran like thunder, the seasoned veteran in him able to outpace any one of his relentless pursuers - but not all of them.
"You can't escape this time, Commander!"
"We're everywhere! You'll never get away again!"
"Give in to the inevitable! Just give us what we want and this can all end!"
"You're surrounded!"
"We didn't want it to come to this, but you forced our hand!"
Within his office was safety - and by the door to that office was one of his most faithful and obedient officers.
"Lisa - open that door!"
But Lisa stood firm.
"Sorry, sir - but they have turned me to their way of thinking."
Out of breath, Hawkins watched as Jeff, Cliff and Cric came ever closer. The Air Leader spoke plainly, though if he knew any other way, he had yet to make use of it.
"Have us all scrubbing reactor coils from now till VDE Day, sir - we have to know if the rumors are true."
Cliff pointed, though this was almost in a respectful, rather than menacing, way.
"We don't expect top-secret intel. We know better than that. But you yourself said those messages from Arus were not classified - and one of them obviously upset you pretty badly."
"One thing you learn in an undersea world, Commander - the pressure eventually forces even the heaviest things imaginable to the surface - there is no fighting it."
Cric's words and general exhaustion seemed to do the trick for Hawkins, who nonetheless prepared his loyal if somewhat pushy officers.
"This has been weighing on me, and frankly, there is no good way to say it. But please remember - even I don't have all the details right now. What I do have is likely to sting worse than any confirmed news, once I tell it - so here goes… "
All seemed to lean forward at the reaching of their goal as they listened.
"The news from planet Arus is not good. It seems possible, perhaps even likely, that a member of the Voltron Force has been assassinated by agents of Planet Doom, working under Zarkon's direction."
The words seemed to whip through the room like a razored wire. For it was not so long ago that those five young heroes, their legend and star rapidly rising, had been fellow cadets in a class such as the academy had never known before.
"Who is it, Commander? Did they get Keith? Lance?"
"We just don't know that at this time, Jeff."
"It's Pidge, isn't it, sir? Isn't it-my brother? You can tell me, sir."
Chip's evident signs of near-panic called that statement into question.
"Chip, I just said that we don't know anything well enough to even confirm this news. We…"
The alarms that sounded were for once welcomed by both the questioners and the questioned. Hawkins pointed in front of him.
"Battle stations!"
2
Actively not wanting to speculate about which of their friends had very possibly been killed, the three team leaders instead spent their run to battle craft-standby speculating on the why of the alarms.
"What could constitute an emergency in a part of space not claimed by anybody?"
Cliff was quickly all over Jeff's question.
"Back home, when you hear something rattle in the night, you go ahead and assume it's a snake."
Cric touched the side of his own head, a sign he was having one of his 'feelings'.
"I fear we may have stepped on the snake's den by accident."
Jeff was dismissive of this thought.
"NO way! We're in wholly unclaimed space- the Commander and Captain checked the star maps and cleared us for 'Madman's distance', in terms of our buffer zone."
Cliff was again not so dismissive.
"All I'm saying is, Drules tend to have funny ideas about what is and is not unclaimed space. You know their negotiating premise, right?"
Cric completed the thought.
"That which is mine will remain mine alone, and that which is yours, we will discuss. Doesn't leave too much of a buffer zone, does it?"
The trio reached the hangar bay just a minute ahead of their well-trained subordinates. Jeff tried to gather himself.
"Blast it all! It was because of keeping up with Keith that I moved as far up in our class as I did. Guys – if it is him that died, do you think the Commander would let me take his place?"
Cliff chuckled.
"No offense, Jeff, but no way! And would you honestly want that job? The Commander placed those four misfits under Keith because the one area he plainly outshines you on is team-building. I mean, I love those goofs. But only Keith could make it work with them."
Jeff conceded the point. Sven had always shown extreme competence but lacked motivation. Hunk was too apt to lose himself in his busywork in maintaining the ships. Pidge had a billion big ideas and not a single clue. Lance seemed to regard a regular clash with his superiors as a morning walk by the lake. All these traits still were part and parcel of these young men. But under Keith's command, they were at last remade as strengths.
"Hey, Cric? Do you think today's the day we'll get to take the Rugbies past Formation Beta?"
When Cliff had first seen the amazing spacecraft that the Land, Air, and Sea Teams would be using, he whistled loudly and said, in his thickest accent, 'Rugged Babies', which sounded a lot like 'Rugbies' to his decidedly not-from-Down-Under teammates. That, coupled with a Rugby team having fifteen members, sealed the deal on their nickname.
"I can't say, Jeff. I just wish we had a single inkling what Formation Alpha was about."
The rest of the team members arrived as their leaders fell into position. One seemed on the verge of falling apart. The ladies on the team were not at all 'traditional', whatever that really meant in such a time and place. But the maternal instinct was no myth, and seeing their youngest member in such a state brought Lisa and Ginger to Chip in a heartbeat.
"I know it! I know that the dead member must be Pidge. A twin knows these things."
Their time was short, but the ladies gave what they had. Chip was such a genius on so many levels, his deficiencies in mental combat readiness were easy to overlook. Most glaring among these was his inability to handle what military folks had for centuries called 'hurry up and wait', those times when you weren't fighting for your life, but had to be ready to do so with all of no notice. This was a dangerous lack for any member of a military unit. It was then, in the moments when the explosions were silent that your demons caught up with you.
"Chip, you can't let this worry drive you to distraction."
"A little late for that, Lisa. See, Pidge was always the strong, forward one. If he's gone, then I feel like maybe the legs from underneath me are bound to go next."
Ginger revealed that her toughness was not just something derived from an Eastern Seaboard accent.
"Chip, what if it was you that died, and Pidge had to get the news?"
Lisa seemed aghast at what Ginger was proposing. But Chip answered anyway.
"Well, I guess he'd be sad and upset-but I would want for him to move on, and help out his friends-OK, I get it. Thanks, Girls!"
Lisa saw her friend with new eyes, and Ginger nodded.
"One of the surest ways to get a boy to act like a man is to tell him he's *not* acting like one."
Lisa smiled as they approached their ships, but this quickly faded.
"I just hope the message the Commander got was dead wrong. Losing any one of Keith's misfits, including him, would be hard to take. Remember when he took them on as Team Leader?"
"I sure do! He was a loner, tryin' to do the whole nine sectors by himself. But Commander Hawkins saw what he needed. Heh! But he had to outfight Hunk, out-shout Lance, out-think Pidge, and draw Sven out. Heh—even back then he was forming the head."
The laughter was forced and went down badly for both women, as they knew well that any assassination against the Voltron Force would most likely be directed at the head. Even Jeff had conceded it – when it came to leadership, Keith had been their genius, and was very much irreplaceable.
A basic toughness and readiness ran through the core of the very least of this crew, but even among some of the toughest, the unknowns and the fear of losing dear old friends could prove too much.
"All I'm sayin' is, if that fat fool went and got himself taken out, I'll freaking kill him!"
Shannon almost had to chuckle at what Rocky said.
"So you're in mourning for Hunk? I've seen the two of you pounding on each other in the ring like you were never gonna stop. That's a real deep friendship—maybe you were even in love!"
Rather than getting pounded himself, Shannon got a face-full of steam.
"Get me, you moron! Two guys-both about equal—both come from where you learned to throw and take a punch and just keep going. With two guys like that around—doesn't matter if they're the best of pals or its shoot on sight-eventually you just gotta settle who can take that one hit more. Nature demands it."
Shannon lost his smirk.
"So who could take more?"
Rocky shook his head.
"I dunno. We never settled it. Now maybe we never will."
"Rocky, nobody much resented those five becoming the Space Team—because they were just that good, twice so once they had a leader patient and strong enough to put it together. Translation, you big doofus – they're all the ones that can take that extra hit. Who knows? Maybe the Commander's message got it wrong, and no one is really dead. Could have been a spy for Zarkon, spreading rumors to demoralize. Hey, man—there's a reason they're the Voltron Force, and we're just over-eager young explorers."
Trying to keep himself together, Rocky found nothing to disagree with in Ace's words. But then a step too far was taken amid the calm.
"So, if Hunk is the one they lost, will you be trying for his spot?"
Faster than he could blink or breathe, Shannon was seized bodily and held against the wall.
"YOU SHUT UP! Ain't nobody from here playing career vulture with the lives of our friends!"
"Ease off, Rocky! I meant, only someone like you could replace him. And if he is gone—aren't they gonna need a replacement for the Yellow Lion pilot?"
Rocky let Shannon go.
"It got to me, Ok? You wanna place me on report?"
Shannon smacked him on the back.
"For a wall-shove? Around here, it would take a knifing to even get noticed. Now let's get out there!"
When the five young explorers now called the Space Team had been sent on their then-secret mission to Arus, their had been a feeling of good fortune among the fifteen classmates they left behind. When the news came back that Keith's misfits had been the ones to give new life to no less than the legendary Voltron, that well-wishing dried up and became almost bitterness. A tough secret mission could make legends, and all knew it. Only now the ones they called the 'Lucky Five' seemed to have not only hit the jackpot, but exploded it.
Yet these feelings changed once more when the first drips of footage bled through, and these men again became the brothers of the crew of the Explorer. As the force launched in the specialized fighters that had Keith's envy upon seeing them, they now had one more slight change in feeling for the Space Team that would now and forever be referred to as the Voltron Force. Jeff summed this up as he saw what they were up against.
"Man, I wish those guys were here right now!"
Cliff saw the same sight Jeff did, and was just as flabbergasted.
"Cric—just how many Drule ships are out here?"
"I am afraid, Cliff, that, as a wise little boy once put it, that we are surely facing-all of them."
"All team members, this is Jeff. Commence utilization of Formation Beta. Let's at least put our firepower on par with some of those mid-sized ships."
As the three teams combined into the larger air, sea, and watercrafts, some pilots realized very harshly that they might not return to the comfort of their great starship, surrounded by friends and camaraderie. Some few wondered if explosive decompression was more like it was in the manuals or more like the stories of their youth.
3
A man who would recognize all the burdens of Jeff, Cliff, Cric, and Hawkins as his own stood aboard the battle bridge of the lead Drule ship, his sharp mind taking in every facet of the battle that was now likely inevitable. He liked none of it.
"Sir, it is obviously an invasion force!"
Commander Hazar shook his head.
"It may in fact be an invasion force, Lieutenant. But I fear little about it is obvious. Until we made ourselves known, they did nothing even remotely suspicious, their position in space aside. They turned away from fifteen routes that would have given them cover for an attack, and no back-up has arrived to reinforce this supposed incursion."
"Are you saying that we should just take this possible invasion in stride?"
"I'm saying nothing of the sort, so don't be stupid! If the Terrans wish to restart the Earth-Drule War once more this day, then we will give them massive cause to regret it. But I will not be the one whose itchy trigger finger fires that first shot. Too many lives were lost before the basic equality of power between the two spheres was recognized."
The war had lasted thirty years, a hiccup or less in cosmic time. The Earthmen had made alliance with other species, while the Drule were forced to treat with their long-lost 'cousins' of the Galra Dynasty on the Empire Of Planets led by King Zarkon of Planet Doom. While smaller in size and sheer number of forces, Zarkon led a people still steeped in the old mysticism Hazar's ancestors rejected in favor of the technology that now ran their lives—once for good, now less so.
"With all that said, Commander—should I ready the Robot Beast?"
One piece of technology that Doom had traded with Drule had to be radically modified.
Even Emperor Zeppo had been wholly disgusted when Witch Hagar transformed an ordinary Doomian Drule soldier into a horrific creature that quickly grew to be forty times his original size. It also became apparent that the man's mind left him, as his first victims were the soldiers from his own unit, cut and torn apart not for food—but merely because the creature could. Hagar and her twisted monarch, for their part, found both the spectacle and the reaction to it all quite amusing.
"Yes, by all means, have it ready to be launched. I am taking a chance in this waiting, after all, but there's no need to leave ourselves that wide open."
The Lieutenant, one of a few non-robotic personnel aboard the large ship, seemed to appreciate his concerns not being dismissed out of hand.
"I will tell the pilots to be on stand-by, sir. Thank goodness we made them true Ro-Beasts, and not those insults to Life that Zarkon uses. I am told you had a hand in making certain of that. Most wise, Commander."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. I hope it will prove to have been so on the battlefield, the only place such questions are ever settled."
Of an old and noble house, Hazar's words had reached Emperor Zeppo, who had seemed on the verge of falling under Zarkon's sway in many matters.
*Your Majesty, we always talk of 'Damn Terrans' this, and 'Damn Terrans' that. But if we use this vile-no, this EVIL technology and sacrifice men already sworn to die on your behalf in so gruesome a way—then, Imperial Sire, it is the Drule Empire that stands damned!*
What Hazar had told no one save his father and his adoptive sister Dorma was that the Emperor had only been swayed when Hazar's words moved the other Drule officials present at the conference. Worst of all, Planet Doom's ruler was not the bad influence many claimed, at least when it came to 'corrupting' Zeppo. Emperor Zeppo, it was increasingly becoming apparent, was corrupt all on his own, with he and his private circle both oblivious and uncaring to the plight of the common people on their dying homeworld.
"Enemy fighters moving out of their bays, sir. It is their specialized survey scanning team, to hear their broadcasts tell it. Though I will say that each of those little fighters packs quite a punch on all fronts."
"Their position?"
"A defensive one, Commander. They are not moving to attack – though the vessels are reconfiguring, five apiece merging to become three larger vehicles. A useful ability, whether one is scanning or not."
Hazar knew a moment of decision was coming soon. The flashpoint of war stared him in the face.
"If the Terrans are playing a game, they are doing so masterfully. What do long-range scans reveal?"
The younger officer shrugged.
"The enemy—and ourselves. We are all quite alone for several sectors, enough to make whatever happens here all our own effort. Whichever side wins, no relief will decide it."
'Very well. Contact that lead ship – and demand that they tell us why they have invaded Drule space!"
"The message is sent, sir—and so was a message from their ship-also demanding to know why WE have invaded unexplored space they laid claim to by treaty."
Hazar stood flabbergasted, with his mouth open.
"Those arrogant-release the Ro-Beast-no. Release the Mixed Squadrons—Robots directed by a handful of organic pilots. But have them maintain a defensive position that mirrors our intruders. That is my word on this matter!"
His bluster aside, Hazar knew he was taking a gamble on the Terrans' intentions, and on his own prospects in the military and political fields.
4
Newley stared at the read-out in disbelief.
"Let me get this straight. The Drules are accusing us of violating their space? Commander Hawkins, permission to speak freely?"
"Here it comes, Go ahead, Captain."
"Sorry, sir. But both in this situation and the situation with the young pilots, you have given far too much leeway. Leeway that both friend and foe are seizing upon, making us look weak!"
The absent and hopefully not-late Keith Kogane secretly and deliberately had Lance play up their rivalry in public far beyond anything that really stood between them. While Newley and Hawkins had no such arrangement, no one ever thought that Newley would actually verge into insubordination. With that said, when Newley did challenge his CO, it was all the more serious for how rarely it happened.
"As to the young explorers—you're right, Captain. I let that one go for far too long. But I'm hoping you're wrong with the Drules. I'm hoping that forbearance pays off. If we are where we believe ourselves to be, then the Drules making this claim are either out of their minds or hell-bent on restarting a war we can then no longer avoid. But if we're not…"
Before Newley could bring up the obvious question about how they could possibly be in the wrong place, Hawkins checked with the navigation team. Their chief shrugged.
"Computers say we're on the right side of the treaty markings, even avoiding some areas the Drules still dispute. That said—the stars don't agree with our computers!"
The highly technical was boiled down for the two senior officers, and whether presented with full scientific flourish or dumbed down for the most committed Luddite, the evidence presented was among the most dire they'd ever heard.
5
Aboard his team's combined vessel, Jeff looked for about the billionth time at the magno-lock surrounding the series of levers and buttons that activated Formation Alpha. He hoped that its use would be authorized soon, and that he would live to see that day happen, even though he secretly doubted the reveal would be all that big a deal.
"It's like Christmas morning, when you get to see the toy doesn't really fly…heh..except my current one. This flies like a dream."
During an all-too-brief message exchange done by reflecting off quasars, Jeff had exchanged stats with Keith on Arus. While the Black Lion was an incredible vessel by any standard, its raw power and strength meant that Keith and his team would almost literally be lion tamers. Keith saw the stats on Jeff's Air One and drooled for how pitch perfect the piece already was, with a level of responsiveness that made words like 'synch ratio' almost laughable antiques. His friend's praise and light envy now stirred up some bitter feelings.
"Dammit, Keith, you jerk! How could ya not be watching out for assassins on a world under siege for decades?"
The answer was with him in a heartbeat. The Space Team's mission to Arus was a desperate one, mainly meant for the present to engage Zarkon and keep Planet Doom from ever lending its resources to the larger conflict. By all accounts, even those few to trickle out prior to the Voltron recovery mission, the people of Arus were shattered things, almost driven back to the caves. Before the return of the super-robot, Zarkon hadn't even bothered with trying to deliver the death-blow to the now-irrelevant planet.
"Huh? Are they moving? Cliff, Cric, I need eyeballs on the enemy forces."
In short, Keith likely had realized the danger assassins posed, and was forced by the situation to play each attack by ear. Jeff realized that this would be no comfort at all if any of their friends were lost—especially the one he could barely outshoot and who wholly outshined him as a leader.
"Jeff, this is Cric. Some of the forces seem to be moving—and it's like the others are trying to decide what to do. I do not like where this might be headed."
Cliff gave a similarly grim assessment.
"Jeff, I know we ride you for being a hothead. But if they hit us first, accidentally or not, their size and strength will have us on the ropes and then on the mat before you can say G'Day!"
Jeff began to feel his blood boil.
"I say it's a Drule trick, meant to psych us into firing when they want us to. Well, I say now, we hit them while they're doing that duck and bounce thing. They blow through us, and Explorer is dead in their sights!"
Technically only first among equals, Jeff still was enough of a natural leader that the others were ready to go on his mark. It was the one area where he outshone the absent and much-discussed Keith – the ability to lead without necessarily being in command.
"Everyone, let's make ourselves a smaller target for now. As we move out, separate teams into component vessels. The break-up may also disguise what it is we're trying to do as we-MOVE OU-"
"JEFF, THIS IS HAWKINS! STAND DOWN, ALL TEAMS. DO NOT, AND I MEAN, DO NOT, RUSH OUT AND ENGAGE THE DRULE FORCES!"
Jeff gave the only response he really could.
"Known and understood, Commander. Answering all stop. But, sir? I can't guarantee the Drules will do likewise for too much longer."
"Just obey orders, Air Chief. There is something going on here that's more than meets the eye."
The three teams had broken from Formation Beta but gone no further. But all it took was a paranoid pilot on the Drule side to interpret this incorrectly. He and his squadron of robotic doppelgangers surged forward, followed by a few others either confused, trigger-happy or merely moving in support of their fellow. The Air, Land and Sea Teams began to take a pounding.
"Commander, this is Cliff. Permission to-"
"Defend yourselves, people. But leave them plenty of room to withdraw."
"But sir! That'll leave us wide open for them to constantly regroup!"
"Jeff, if need be, Explorer will cover that hole for you. But I'm hoping that these are rogues, and that allowing them an out will be seen as a sign of goodwill. But just in case, Cric, have your team pull to the rear of the other two."
"I don't like that, sir, but known and understood. The Sea Team will comply."
Five vehicles moved to the sacrificial cover provided by ten others. On Explorer, Newley shook his head.
"Explorer can't take out all the Drule ships, should they use our escape window to regroup, Commander. You're banking a lot on the Drule Commander listening to our explanation of how this all came about."
Hawkins closed his eyes.
"No, Captain, you're wrong. I'm not banking a lot. I'm banking everything we have invested in this mission. I'm banking the lives of those incredibly talented young men and women."
6
Hazar was furious.
"Who ordered those pilots to move forward?"
The once-obsequious junior officer now seemed almost haughty.
"Sir, did you really expect them to remain motionless forever? The situation is clear, and our pilots grew understandably anxious. What could we ask of them, left to watch as the enemy makes light of our sovereign authority?"
With his question answered, Hazar whipped out his vibro-sword, slicing the Lieutenant's bars and rank-markings off.
"I'm—I'm alive?"
Hazar sneered.
"This isn't Planet Doom, you idiot. But you are under arrest. Helm—how are the Terrans reacting to our activity?"
"Commander, they are turning back our forces, though at great cost to their robot fleet and some smaller cost to their organic pilots. By contrast, our robot fleet has suffered less, but nearly half of our living pilots were too far out in front. The—lead Terran in the field keeps offering them their lives back, but our men are too proud to even consider this."
Hazar wanted to be at home, helping Dorma make sense of their father's tedious legislative schedule.
"Really? Well, tell them that I demand that they return to the sight of this Bridge immediately. Use the opening that the Terrans are obviously providing."
Helm questioned this idea.
"Sir, what if their main ship turns its lasers on our retreating officers?"
Hazar fought off the urge to sit down in his chair and forget the disaster around him.
"Then we, in turn, will fire upon them, and then, we will at last have that state of war so many seem to want and desire."
7
Jeff's voice rang out one last time, a plea to values he hoped both civilizations shared.
"Lead Drule Pilot! You are alive, just like we are. Your fleet is retreating. We are under orders to allow you to use that same hole in the firing line to make your way back to your lines. I beg you, please use it!"
The pilot, who sounded as young or younger than any of them, did not dismiss Jeff's words, though he may as well have.
"Thank You, Galaxy Alliance Pilot. But I must stand firm. Given the state of affairs back home, my doing so will ensure the standing of every member of my fam…"
Cric confirmed the sad news that visuals already gave.
"Jeff, his systems were damaged and overtaxed. They at last gave out."
For his part, Cliff sounded as close to tears as he ever had.
"Poor fool. At least—at least no one will question his loyalty. Yeah. Because that does him a whole lot of good."
Through his console, Jeff sent a secret message to Lisa on the Sea Team. As usual, she had already done what he had requested – noting the Drule pilot's slip about an unstable situation on the Drule homeworld, wherever that was. He and Keith may have the best command aptitude, but Lisa was an insanely valuable commodity – a born officer, ready to serve however was asked of them. Jeff knew he could also trust her discretion in keeping this discussion quiet until it reached Hawkins' desk.
"Good news, people-we're now only facing robot pilots. Bad news – we're being swarmed by them, and they are rapidly adapting to our flight patterns, which don't have a lot of creative room in this tight battlefield."
A voice always too young for their comfort but always welcomed rang out with enthusiasm, not to mention a possible solution.
"Jeff, I've been working on something for just such a situation—but uhh, it's got some bugs in it."
"I'll eat those bugs, Chip, if they only get us through this mess."
"Okay, Chief. Everyone-my Auto-Battle program can only go for about fifteen seconds—and I think you'll quickly see why."
The program was introduced, then enabled by the team leaders—and all saw Chip's words as both prophetic and understated. Each of the fifteen explorer vessels jerked forward at ludicrous speeds, starting and stopping and pausing just long enough to open up targets of opportunity against the Drules remaining force. After the promised fifteen seconds, the robots were a more manageable threat, which was finally forced to retreat when brought below a certain level. The teams, on the other hand, were intact—save for their stomachs.
"Is everyone alright? Chip, what was that?"
Rocky was still covering his mouth as he spoke up.
"Yeah, little guy! That flying was like insane in the membrane."
"I'd have some un-ladylike things to say to you, Chip—but it got the job done."
"Sorry, Ginger—and everybody. That program was what I call 'The Lance'. Two guesses whose style of flying I based it on. That's why it can't go past fifteen seconds. The style is too random and chaotic for the computer to take."
Cliff shook his head.
"Boy, is there a corner of space today we lot can go without being reminded of them?"
Cric rubbed his temples.
"I have this odd premonition-that we will be reminded of them most strongly at precisely the point we manage to put thoughts of them aside-CHIP! Why is our remaining robot fleet pursuing the Drules?"
Chip's eyes almost popped out.
"It's my program. It interfered with the robots' control and programming—our organic pilots can't recall them!"
Jeff cried out over all frequencies.
"Drule lead ship! Our robot-based fleet is out of control-protect yourself and your organic pilots!"
The two sides' robot-fleets were decimated as the Drule Command ship opened fire, but also harmed, albeit lightly, were the two sides organic control pilots, with each bunch limping back to their respective home-base vessel.
On board the shaken Drule command ship, Hazar felt he had to protect both the lives under his charge and his own position.
"That was either a staged blunder to distract us or a real one, a sad fortune of war. But either way, I am left with no choice. My gamble is done, and I must call the other side's bet and bluff."
His people's greatest patriot would twice make history with the crew of the SS Explorer. This day would mark that first time.
"Unleash the Ro-Beast! Wipe out those specialized fighters!"
At this point, Hazar knew, the only way a report home would not be followed by his ouster would be to show that the Terrans had paid the full price for their incursion, whatever its true explanation. But he was also just as aware that his actions could trigger a war that could shatter the stars.
8
Hawkins looked once again at the read-outs that didn't lie, and the read-outs that he now knew did just that. He also saw the thing that approached his good young people, intent on tearing them to pieces. Newley, wrongly seeing his friend and CO as hesitant, tried to rouse him.
"Commander Hawkins? JIM! You need to authorize-"
Hawkins raised an opened hand.
"I, James Hawkins, do at this time authorize the Air, Land And Sea teams to unlock and engage Formation Alpha. Password : Near Universe. Do you concur, Number One?"
"You know I do, sir."
The smile threw away the doubts. Hawkins knew Newley's stated concerns were for the fleet and the crew that were both their charge, so an able partnership and friendship kept on, steady as she ever was. Now, they would enable some of those same charges to pull off a small miracle.
"Commander, this is Jeff. The magno-locks are falling away from the controls for Formation Alpha. Does this mean what I think it means?"
"It means, Jeff, that you and the others had better learn how to fly in formation as never before. The exact positions and controls you must master will be shown to you exactly twice : Now, and when you come back on board. Learn them as you know your own names. A single misstep in achieving this formation can leave you all dead or at least looking very foolish. Every last pitch, speed and measurement it demands, you provide. These are all top-secrets-secrets only your three teams are being entrusted with. Only myself, Captain Newley, the CiC of Galaxy Garrison, and through heavy encoding, Keith on Arus can ever access. You Jeff, in turn, will have your own packet from Arus to study. Now-show the universe what Formation Alpha can really do!"
Jeff's marvelous tactical (if not always tactful) mind gave a scan of the emerging formation, and a wild thought took root in him. As the Ro-Beast's bombardment began, Jeff gave the fateful orders.
"All teams-initiate Formation Alpha. If I'm right, we're about to make history."
Cliff jumped in.
"We're gonna be history, buddy, if we leave ourselves wide open like that."
"No, Cliff. We're gonna tear them wide open. Cric, you with me?"
"My heart is, Jeff. My head is with Cliff."
"Then just trust me and do what those instructions say- and then keep them in mind. Initiate!"
Two of Cliff's team fell in at the anterior of the vertical formation, and that is where Jeff lost track of it all. But he and his teams were as well-trained as their friends on Arus, the living and the dead. The specialized space-vessels all moved precisely as they were meant to, and the interlocking was all the faster for the size of those vessels compared to the oversized Lions of Arus. Jeff saw Chip and Wolo's copters make their position, and saw Ginger's powerful snub fighter become like a family crest on a knight's armor. As Jeff's turn came, his fighter revealed a makeshift face from inside its hidden compartments, and he made sure his next words recorded for Keith Kogane, whether in living rivalry or in proud memoriam.
"And I'll form the head!"
The team which had no time to do so sat in awe of what they had been granted. Hawkins' voice boomed over the speakers to rouse them.
"No time to be impressed, cadets-stop that Ro-Beast!"
Immediately, the assembled titan grasped the enemy construct's two front claws and tore them loose. But full of redundancies, the monster only used this opening to double up on its missile attack. Powerful though it was, the new super-robot was still thrown about by the impact. Chip became enraged.
"Hey, you big jerk-eat my helicopter blades!"
At those words, energy weapons in the shape of Chip's helicopter blades flew at the creature, cutting off more of its grappler limbs.
"Wow! Did I do that?"
A female voice cut in.
"Jeff! Throw me like a dart at that big lummox."
"Another day, Ginger. Right now, I wanna see what two copter energy blades will do-HUH!"
No sooner had the teams formed the two energy blades by methods they did not yet understand, then the two energy-circles fairly jumped together in their hands and formed one gigantic blade. Cric was amazed.
"We-WE have a Blazing Sword?"
"This is Cliff, Jeff-suggest we use it."
"You got it guys-Let's Go Vo-"
There was an impact. It turned out to be the Ro-Beast moving forward, its pilots failing to recognize the formation of the new weapon, which they impaled their super-weapon on.
"I guess-we won. Drule pilots-you okay on getting out of there?"
"We are alive, Terrans-ummm-good battle-I suppose."
As the robot monster exploded, the team that had found its destiny though hardly its footing tried to figure out their next move. Jeff finally broke the silence.
"I suggest we move to disable the lead Drule ship and take their commander prisoner. They can't stop us! Not while we have Vo-"
At this moment, the assembled super-robot forcibly disassembled, and the emptied energy tank regulators on the fifteen vessels fairly demanded their return to base.
"Newley to Cadets-did we fail to mention that, until some stabilization ratios can be nailed down, your new toy has only five minutes of power?"
Audio silence was observed as the new Voltron Force returned from a successful if somewhat odd first run.
Aboard the lead vessel now no longer a target, Hazar awaited his fate.
"You have won, Terrans. Now I will hear your terms. But be warned-you will not hold this territory for long."
Hawkins was blunt and to the point.
"We won't be holding it at all, for any length of time, Commander. The Galaxy Alliance apologizes to the Drule Empire for this intrusion-it was unintended, and will not be repeated. Please observe our immediate and speedy withdrawal. Hawkins out."
9
Hours later, Hazar's mind still swam with questions.
*They had won. They had us at point-blank range, and had undid our current best weapon. So why do they turn tail, after a victory that must have cost them some blood and treasure as well?*
"Commander?"
"Ah, Lieutenant. I trust your stay in the brig cleared your head?"
"It has, sir. And even if it hadn't-this message from His Majesty's Voice, Viceroy Throk, would have shown me the error of my ways."
"Hazar? Praise to you, and this is from Emperor Zeppo himself! You have caused our foes to turn back, holding the line at titanic cost. I have had doubts about your loyalty in times past, but I see these doubts were ill-founded. Perhaps his majesty will one day see you seated next to your esteemed father on the Council."
Hazar saw that Throk was pleased, and Hazar was never more uncomfortable than when Throk was pleased, even if that seemed to be in his favor. In his confusion, Hazar sought knowledge.
"I wish to know our Terran opponents better. Send all information captured during our past wars to the console in my quarters. And by all means, keep a close eye on their withdrawal. I cannot say that I trust them."
During his studies, Hazar would find that a tragic fictional character shared a name with his sister Dorma, that Emperor Zeppo's own name had a humorous history on Terra, and that one of the planet's historic leaders had called hope an audacious thing.
"Audacious indeed. Is hope itself, too much to hope for? When beings are civilized enough to apologize and pull back from war, is peace also something audacious?"
The answers for Hazar would be far from immediate, but they would come, and an entire people would one day join happily in his audaciousness.
10
The next day, aboard the Explorer, the team now known as the Voltron Force were in for shocks both good, bad, and just plain startling. Jeff spoke for the others when the first such surprise came.
"What? We really had violated Drule space?"
Hawkins casual demeanor hid all of a furious conflict with his superiors at Galaxy Garrison.
"An accident, Chief. Our computers had been fed massively wrong information about the borders. It won't happen again."
Newley held a bit of a glare on his face, but this still didn't show just how close to resigning he and Hawkins had come when the true nature of this 'accident' had been exposed. Cric nodded at the information they could present.
"I'm sorry it all caused such a pointless conflict. But then again, we did get to finally utilize Formation Alpha. Heh. Now we are the Voltron Force as well. Commander, is there anything we ourselves could have done differently to avoid the losses suffered by both sides?"
Hawkins tried never to be a loud commander, but at this point he wanted to scream that these cadets had never done anything wrong. The Explorer and its crew had all been set up by elements of Galaxy Garrison who wanted to see what this new Voltron could do, and more importantly, to show the Drules what it could do. It was at their orders that Explorer's navigation systems had been all but negated, ensuring the conflict that had in fact come.
"I do have some criticism for your group, but to answer your question, Cric : No. Once the initial accident occurred that took us so far off-course, there was going to be a fight of some kind. We are perhaps fortunate that the enemy commander - Hazar, was it? - was a man capable of listening to reason. Now as to that criticism, here we go."
Hawkins gentled his look. The earful he had given men who should have known better than to risk war for a simple show of strength was likely still echoing on Earth. The young people before him needed him firm but fair.
"Chip? Do not ever again presume to insert unauthorized programs into our equipment, let alone such fundamental primary functions such as auto-pilot. I know Keith encourages such things of your brother, but neither of them is here, and spread across fifteen diverse vehicles as opposed to five like ones, the results are too unpredictable. That said, I want you to let our software and tech personnel have a peek at your binary. Because they say, to simulate a madman like Lance for even fifteen seconds, you must be a certifiable super-genius."
Chip nodded, looking like a man who'd dodged a blaster bolt. Ginger realized she was in for it next.
"Ginger - barring a life or death circumstance, you are never to suggest the use of your craft in the manner you spoke of as the battle concluded. By definition, not every one of Voltron's weapons will be used in every battle. The durability of your VT fighter magnifies when in Formation Alpha, and for ten seconds after leaving it. This goes for all of you-never chat over subspace about your vessel's secret powers. These have been entrusted to you by the Alliance, along with the secret of forming Voltron."
Hawkins cut a bloody verbal path through every last one of the young people he considered like his own children. Their three leaders, though, he saved for dead last.
"Cric-Jeff-Cliff-you were so ridiculously lucky that, if you are believing men, thank who you feel appropriate. If all you believe in is blind luck, then be awfully careful around ladders and cracks in the walkway, because you have used up your positive quota for months to come."
The man known to his generation of cadets as James 'The Touch' Hawkins kept on, a thunderstorm welcomed as a break to the tension and humidity of the past day or so.
"You faced an enemy commander more reasonable than many Drules, if not perhaps the most reasonable one I've ever encountered. You faced an awkward situation that mistakes on either side could have turned into a new all-out war, and as I and Captain Newley can attest, such a thing is to be avoided at all costs. And let's be absolutely honest with ourselves - that battle was almost slapstick, save for the lives lost. I can guarantee your fights in the future will not have your foe self-impaling, or so willing to talk with you. Was this the way I wished to see our super-robot christened? No. But even if this wasn't a proper trial-by-fire, it did provide us with a look at what we can really do-and trust me, it isn't nearly enough!"
The great man, now as feared and respected by certain scheming superiors as by his subordinates, was unsparing in his challenge.
"Will you be content to forever be known as 'that other Voltron Force'? When we appear to grant aid, will you be content to have it said 'Oh, it's that weird assortment of vehicles, not the real Voltron'? As much as we care for and stand with our comrades on Arus, are you in the slightest content to live in their shadow?"
Many more than fifteen voices joined the senior cadets in a resounding chorus of 'No Sir' as it shook the infrastructure all over that part of the ship.
Hawkins moved to finish up.
"Then prepare for a long hard slog, and more sudden stops and starts than even your oaths of service ever allowed for in the wildest imaginings of our best minds. You will know defeats, and you will know victories that may as well be defeats. You will know victories that are so slim that only shining the greatest optimism on it can at all see it as a building block to a greater good. The enemy, as we have said, will not always stand as tall as this Hazar. Some will go out of their way to embrace our worst stereotypes of the Drule Empire. Be prepared for all that, ten times worse than all that, and for everything I failed to bring up, as it smacks you right in the face. I ask now of the Voltron Force - do you stand so ready?"
Again, a chorus shook the vessel, this time one of 'Yes Sir'. But while Hawkins was done with admonishment and encouragement, he was not yet done speaking.
"I hope that I am right about all of you-but I've been known to be wrong. In this case, I have never been so happy to say that I was wrong-or rather, that I passed on wrong information. On Planet Arus, no member of the Lion Voltron Force has died, nor are they expected to."
Hawkins let the cheers go up before he leavened the news yet again.
"Ease up. Even though no one died, one of our dear friends almost did meet his end. By means of an evac system built for speed and sent on a journey through dangerous territory, they have made it to a hospital ship where a Doctor from Planet Ebb was waiting."
Cliff shook his head.
"They have that kind of evac, that far out?"
Newley caught this one, as Hawkins rested his throat.
"They had to have something, Cliff. For all intents and purposes, the Lions are on their own. But to leave them without any means of getting vital information and materials out seemed foolish. So they were given schematics that Hunk and Pidge built from, and Lance field-tested. Remember that ancient cinematic where the hero-ship was called a hunk of junk? Well, I'm reliably told that the jury-rigging done on the evac med-pod made that look like a luxury cruiser."
Jeff had been silent for over a half an hour, and no one expected this to last.
"But, sirs? Who got hurt, and how?"
Hawkins had a large view screen lowered.
"Ask him yourself. Quasar activity has helped put the hospital ship in range."
The man onscreen had always been pale, but now that pallor seemed unhealthy rather than natural. From his bed, with telltale tubes still running from him, he managed a smile at the friends he and his had so recently left behind.
"I-I understand that vwe now have some new members inducted into our exclusive little club. I vwould like to say - congratulations and a hearty vwelcome to our brothers and sisters in the Voltron Force. Heh-as you can see, I might have been better off staying vwith all of you."
The cheers had stopped, giving way to concern for the badly wounded Sven.
Hutch, a team member often as noted for being quiet on their front as Sven was on his, was the one to come out and say it.
"Man, My God-what happened to you?"
Historical and legendary tales of Nordic stoicism and acceptance of pain were somehow not enough for Sven to generate yet another forced smile as he responded.
"Who-me? I vwas just unlucky enough to get on the wrong side of an old vwoman and her cat. You know how that can go!"
The real full story would be relayed some months later. For then and there, Sven's privacy was respected.
"My friends-for a time I vwill not be there as you build the legend I know you vwill. Vwhen vwe five misfits fell into Keith's group, he reminded us that the fifteen professionals that surrounded us vwere far worthier than we - so that is vwhy vwe became overachievers. Up against the bunch of you, standing a little higher was the only prayer vwe had of keeping up. Now that you have your sacred charge, vwe expect you to challenge us not one little bit less. To do otherwise vwould be an insult to five extremely competitive officers-I have to rest, now. Be strong, Voltron-be strong-"
The transmission ended, and the three team commanders moved to speak to Hawkins.
"Poor fella. I hope he gets better."
Cliff agreed with Jeff, but couldn't help cracking wise.
"I hope someday I can understand his accent a little better."
Cric shrugged.
"Accent? Sven was the only Terran I didn't have to struggle to understand, back when we all first met."
"Something to say, men?"
Hawkins' words reminded them why they were there. Jeff picked up.
"Sir-will one of our team members be sent to Arus, to fill in for Sven? No disrespect to his sacrifice, but he isn't getting back to them anytime soon."
Hawkins shook his head.
"I didn't want to cause Sven any further grief - but a new pilot for Blue Lion has been found-though I'm told that was a story all by itself."
"Already! Who could they have found?"
"Ask yourselves-who in the most technical sense of the word is Voltron's true owner?"
Cric caught it.
"The Crown Princess Allura! Of course."
Cliff smiled.
"Well, her Dad did build the blasted thing, didn't he. Pleasant to have a royal good for something other than sitting on their backsides. But wait-if King Alfor built the Lion Voltron, who built ours?"
Hawkins was tired, and moved to end the questions.
"While our Voltron was built on Earth, it was designed from schematics sent out by King Alfor, prior to the fall of Arus and his subsequent execution by Zarkon. He had reasons for splitting this one into fifteen, or so I'm told. I've also heard he sent out a third set of schematics, though no one knows to who or where. Now - have your evening meals and get back on those simulators. Your recent performance was good, but you also showed how far you have to go. Dismissed!"
PERSONAL JOURNAL, JAMES HAWKINS
Newley was right. I did gamble a lot, but it paid off, Fifteen To One. I'm told that back home, a minor official named Wade has been arrested for sending us into that fiasco. Good to have that sort of lunatic nipped in the bud. Yet, even if it wasn't under the most ideal of circumstances, those who love freedom have strong young advocates wielding two very powerful weapons of war that, in the eternal oxymoron, will hopefully preserve the peace. From hotheads to princesses of the blood, our little family is a brave and bold lot, as one would expect of those charged with the power to form Voltron, Defender Of The Universe.