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Star Tron: Louder Than Words Chapter 1: A New Tutor
Captain Driscoll walked through the Castle of Lions, heading to the lounge. Over the past two weeks he had gotten to know the palace fairly well, having spent most of his time there as he and Gredar negotiated a treaty with Coran, Allura, and Keith.
The negotiations were going well, and preliminary proposals were already being reviewed by the Federation Council and the Senate of the Galaxy Alliance. But diplomacy was not on his mind right now. He had something else to discuss with Keith.
As he expected, he found the commander of the Voltron Force in the lounge, reading over a book of Arusian history. He looked up when Adam entered the room. "Hi."
"Yo, Keith," Driscoll replied, settling into a chair across from him. "Got a minute?"
Keith looked at Driscoll over the top of the book. "Yeah, sure. What can I do for you?"
"It's about Allura," said Driscoll. He noticed the way Keith's eyebrow went up. Almost like Spock, he thought before continuing. "I've been looking at our records, and I think Allura could use some more training."
"Yeah, she could," Keith agreed. "She's only been flying a few months. What's your point?"
"Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to work with her; give her some more training. Specifically in ACM and combat tactics."
Keith regarded Driscoll critically. "I like to think I'm teaching her well enough. And she doesn't seem to have any more trouble than the rest of us against Doom."
"No, don't get me wrong. It's not about you. And she is doing pretty good, considering how new she is. My point is that in the three robeast attacks since I came back, I've upped my score to twenty-nine."
"So?" Keith asked, not understanding why Adam would be complaining about his good luck.
"Keith, I'm her wingman. A wingman's job is to protect the leader's tail while he or she does the shooting. Therefore, I shouldn't be getting anything. But I've had to cover her six so often…" He shrugged. "See my point?" He held up a PADD. "These are all our personal scores for the last three battles. Check this: You knocked down fifty-six fighters and damaged a battleship. Lance, sixty-three and a battleship. Hunk, forty-seven. Pidge, forty-one. Me, twenty-two, which includes one skullship I torpedoed. Allura scored twenty-six, the least of all five Lion pilots. She's also taken more damage than the rest of us combined. She's fine against robeasts and skullships, but she can't hack a fighter battle."
Keith thought a moment, absorbing the information. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point. But she'll improve."
"I know, but we can't wait. We're trained soldiers, and we've had comprehensive flight training. Allura hasn't. She was thrown in at the deep end and she's just past dog-paddling, when she needs to be dog-fighting."
"That's what the practices are for," Keith replied. He had made the same conclusion himself, but was having problems finding a solution. He couldn't spare the time to train her more, nor could the others. And he was constantly battling Nanny and Coran behind the scenes just to keep her flying.
"Two hours a day plus combat isn't enough. Would you put a raw cadet on that kind of rotation? I think not."
"No, I wouldn't," he conceded. "But what makes you think you can help her? You've only been in combat five times."
"Granted, but I'm also an ace. I've been flying for years. I know my stuff, Keith. I can teach her air combat maneuvers. I can teach her how to dogfight, and how to fight a ship that is smaller and quicker than the Lions."
"You'd use Thunderwing?"
"That's the plan."
"And what about the Berlin? Don't you have enough to do commanding your ship?"
Driscoll rolled his eyes. "Please. Keith, the big B's on station-keeping mode. A chimpanzee and two trainees could run her, as Scotty would say. Gredar can handle things for a couple-a' three more hours a day."
Keith considered the proposal for several minutes, turning it over in his head. Finally, he asked. "Have you talked to Allura?"
"No, not yet. When it comes to flying, you're her CO. It's your call first."
"Well, you don't seem to think I can do the job," Keith replied.
Driscoll shook his head. "No, Keith, it's not like that. Look, I just wanna help. If you're gonna get all screwy over this, forget it. I'm perfectly happy to keep racking up my score."
Keith watched Driscoll rise and head for the door. Just before he got there, he said, "Adam?"
"Yeah?" Driscoll replied, turning around.
"Are you ready to catch a whole lot of flak from Nanny for this? Because if I agree, and Allura agrees, you're gonna get an earful and then some."
"How much flak can I expect?"
"Like you were flying that Mustang over Berlin."
Driscoll smiled wryly. "Bring it."
"Okay. Ask Allura if she's interested. If she is, you can go ahead and set up a schedule. I'll try to keep Coran and Nanny off of your back."
Driscoll nodded. "Agreed."
Keith rose and approached Adam. "I'll want a full report on each practice. And you make sure she stays safe. Because if anything happens to her, it's my butt. And then I'll have yours."
"Don't worry, Keith. She's in good hands," Adam assured him, heading out the door.
"She better be," Keith replied as the door slid closed.
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"So the Galaxy Alliance wants to make a pact with the Federation?" Zarkon asked.
The ruler of Planet Doom was seated upon his throne, looking down at his son, Lotor, and Haggar, who stood in the shadows at the far end of the room. He had just gotten word of the impending treaty.
"Yes, Father," Lotor replied. "It has been confirmed by our agents and those of Viceroy Throk."
This news was not good at all. If the Federation and the Galaxy Alliance united, it would almost certainly end Doom expansion in the Near Universe. And that was only the beginning. This also posed a grave threat to the other parts of the Drule Confederation. "This must not be," said Zarkon. "We must not allow this coalition to proceed."
"But what if they allied with us, sire?" Haggar suggested. "Consider the possibilities."
"I already have, Haggar. They must join with us, not the Alliance. Lotor, you will go to Arus and convince them to join us."
"I'm a warrior, not a diplomat!" Lotor protested.
"You must be both, if you expect to take my place some day," the king replied. "Now is as good a time as any to learn."
"And what if they refuse?" Lotor asked.
"Then leave none alive," said Zarkon. "I believe you can help with that, witch?"
"Indeed, sire. My latest robeast should serve well for that," the witch cackled, as her blue cat yowled.
"Very well. Then be off at once, Lotor."
"Yes, Father," Lotor replied with a bow.