Small Eternities

by Cyanne

**FINISHED** A clandestine target practice has disastrous results for Keith and Allura, and events are set in motion that will alter their lives forever.

2. The Tempest

Disclaimer: Voltron and its characters are the property of World Events Productions. All rights reserved. I don't own any of these characters and I am not receiving any profit for writing this story. Cyann Miller, Jedrel Jhaksinn, and the infamous Aldran are mine.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
A caveat-emptor for any Vehicle Voltron fans: I know very little about Vehicle Voltron (I've never even seen an episode of the show), but I have included two of its main characters, Jeff and Ginger, from the Air Team to bring some variety to my Lion Force-slanted stories. Because I have next to zero knowledge of these characters, I've had to sort of re-invent them for "Small Eternities." If I'm way off track, I apologize; I tried hard to stick to what character descriptions I could find on the web, but as with all my stories, there comes a time when the characters just start developing themselves.
--Cyanne/Saturn Girl

P.S. Special thanks to my brother, who helped me with the political stuff, and to my oh-so-supportive pre-readers (you know who you are) for their invaluable nitpicking. Finally, some punctuational notes: "speech," , ~flashbacks~


PROLOGUE
Four years after the resurrection of the first Voltron, and three years after the construction of the second Voltron, Space Marshal Aldran put forth a motion to the Interplanetary Senate to create a meeting of the minds behind both Voltrons. It would be a time for both teams to meet, compare notes, and plan for the future of the mighty robots. As the birthplace of the original Lion Voltron, Planet Arus was given the honor of hosting the very first Voltron Conference. However, the Advisor of Security at Galaxy Garrison expressed concern at the idea of leaving the Garrison without its special, unbeatable weapon: the fifteen pilots of the Galaxy Garrison Voltron Force. After even more debate, Aldran suggested that three representatives of Voltron of the Near Universe be sent to Arus. Jeff, being commander-in-chief, was elected automatically. He chose Ginger, second-in command of the Air Team, as his second. And at Aldran's insistence, Keith would attend as well (Aldran's reasoning was that since Keith had flown with both Voltrons, his opinion would prove especially valuable.)
For the Voltron Force on Arus, it was bittersweet news. The sight of Keith's name on the official list of pilots attending the Conference both elated and unnerved them. As much as they had missed Keith's leadership, the two years that had elapsed since his departure would inevitably create a gulf. The Keith that was coming back would not be the Keith that had left, just as Lance, Pidge, Hunk, Sven, and Allura were not the same people who had bid him goodbye two years ago. This was what their hearts had wished for, but they couldn't help wondering in the back of their minds if it was right to revive the past, to rekindle old emotions, old conflicts . . .
Time had marched unrelentingly forward. Many things had changed, yet, as the Voltron Force was about to find out, some things had remained tragically suspended in time . . .
And so, after an absence of two years, Keith returned to Planet Arus--and the inevitable was set in motion . . .


SMALL ETERNITIES
by Cyanne


**revised August 2002**


PART TWO: THE TEMPEST




--Earth--

The uniformed man sat back in his chair, lacing powerful hands over an ample belly, casting a penetrating gaze upon the proud soldier before him. "I don't have to remind you, captain," the man's bushy eyebrows lifted slightly, "of the importance of this mission."
"No, sir," replied the soldier obediently.
The man's face remained immobile. "This is a delicate operation, captain. Therefore, it is of paramount importance that I am assured of your strength--that I am confident of your dedication to our cause."
Blue eyes locked with black. After a brief, loaded pause, the uniformed man continued with quiet deliberation. "Your background with the Voltron Force gives you both an advantage and a disadvantage. It is important that you understand the difference."
"I do, sir."
"Good. Do not let it work against you."
"No, sir."
The uniformed man regarded the soldier with a keen, imperious eye. "You have been a model soldier for the past two years, captain. I'd hate to lose you."
The soldier's jaw tightened with determination. "You won't, sir. "
The man nodded approvingly. "I hope not." After another keen,
searching look, he added, "Good luck, captain. You are dismissed."

"Jeff!" whined a high-pitched female voice, echoing across the vast expanse of the spaceport. "Wait!"
The solid-looking young man turned with an exasperated expression that quickly melted to one of amusement. "I told you not to bring so many bags," he chided, stopping his brisk pace to allow her to catch up.
Ginger relaxed her grip on the three heavy duffel bags she was carrying and grimaced at him. "Stop being a captain for once and start being a gentleman," she snapped, thrusting one of the bags toward him.
Jeff laughed as he slung it over his broad shoulder. "Couldn't you con ol' Cliff into helping you?"
Ginger sent him a cute smirk as they began to walk. "He's too busy filling in for you, smarty. Besides," she added, winking at him, "I'll bet I can get Keith to carry one."
"Carry one what?"
Jeff turned to see Keith approaching, clutching a duffel bag of his own.
"Hey, partner! "
"Hey yourself," Keith replied good-naturedly. "I see someone got suckered into playing the gentleman."
"Where I come from," Ginger said primly, "a gentleman considers it a privilege to help a lady with her bags." She offered him one expectantly.
Keith accepted it without a word. "Come on, guys, we're going to be late meeting our fourth musketeer."
"Fourth?" Jeff repeated. "I thought it was just the three of us."
"Space Marshal Aldran sent an EM (=electronic memorandum) this morning. Didn't you check your mail?"
Jeff shrugged. "I didn't think to. I thought the personnel for this mission would have been set in stone by now."
"Nothing is set in stone around here," Keith remarked, his dark eyes narrowing. "Aldran must have made the decision at the last minute. I don't know who it is, though."
Ginger nudged Jeff with a wink. "Maybe it's Lisa."
Jeff cleared his throat. "Whoever it is, they're probably waiting for us." He quickened his stride. "We're supposed to depart in ten minutes."
Her step lighter with only one bag to carry, Ginger expelled a contented sigh. "Boy, will I be glad to get away from Galaxy Garrison. I am so sick of politics I could scream."
"Me, too," added Jeff darkly. "If I had known what a bureaucracy the
Garrison would turn into, I might not have joined up."
"Me, neither," retorted Ginger.
When they reached the gate, Jeff craned his neck, searching for the elusive fourth pilot. "I don't see any--"
"Then look behind you, silly!" called a familiar voice.
The trio turned, and Ginger let out a gasp. "Cyann?"
"Who else?" the tall redhead returned, flashing a smile at their confusion. "You didn't think I'd let you visit Arus without me, did you?"
"But I thought--" Jeff faltered.
Cyann waved an indifferent hand. "Not an issue." She flashed a high security badge, an impish twinkle in her eye, then picked up her bag and moved toward the gate. "Stop gaping, people. Planet Arus is waiting for us."
They had no choice but to follow. The shuttle would take them to the Calthyn spaceport, in the Pryndl system, a major stopoff point between the Emerald and Azure quadrants. There, they would each board their own Alpha-One-F--the fastest ships in the Allied Planets Space Force--and complete the journey to the Leonian system. Jeff and Ginger led the way into the small spacecraft, with Keith and Cyann bringing up the rear.
"I don't know how you pulled this off," Keith whispered, "but I'm glad you did."
"I don't want to stay in this bureaucratic hellhole any more than you do," Cyann shot back under her breath. "Wave bye-bye to GG," she quipped lightly, once they were seated, motioning to the familiar gray landscape in the window.
"You're in an awfully good mood," Jeff observed with good-natured
suspicion.
"Why shouldn't I be? I'm getting a vacation from politics."
"Not necessarily," Keith contradicted. "What do you think the Conference is?"
She smirked sheepishly. "Oh, that. Well, at least there'll be a different view out the window."
Ginger giggled, as Keith and Jeff exchanged a look. "I hope we're doing the right thing," Jeff mused, the look in his eyes implying a deeper meaning.
Keith met his solemn gaze evenly. "So do I."

--Arus--

Nanny shuffled anxiously down the hall, dabbing at her forehead with a handkerchief. So much to do! Today was the day of the first Great Voltron Conference, and it was being held on Planet Arus--in less than one hour! It made Nanny's head spin to think of it. She'd been on her feet for three solid weeks, supervising the decorations, catering, and cleaning of the Castle of Lions from top to bottom. She'd been up since five that morning, overseeing the final preparations for the great event. The time was now ten o'clock; the representatives of the other Voltron Force would be arriving soon--the conference would commence the very next day--and no one had seen Princess Allura!
"Oh, that girl," Nanny muttered. "Does she think I have nothing better to do than play hide-and-seek?"
Nanny reached the Princess's door and flung it open without bothering to knock. She opened her mouth to shout, and stopped in surprise.
The Princess of Planet Arus sat calmly at her dresser, brushing her long, golden hair. Without turning, she said, "Good morning, Nanny."
The nurse could only stare. Abruptly, she sputtered, "You're awake."
Allura's reflection shot Nanny a withering look. "Of course I am, Nanny."
"Where have you been all morning? No one has seen you."
Allura set her brush down and began to twist her hair into a bun. "I went for a walk after lion practice."
"On today, of all days! Don't you know that it's--"
"The day of the Voltron Conference," Allura finished. "I know, Nanny." She began to put pins in her hair.
Nanny was frustrated by Allura's calmness. "You're--why are you wearing your flight suit?"
"I am attending this conference as a pilot, not a princess. And don't argue with me," Allura added, when she saw Nanny's mouth open.
Nanny suddenly felt sheepish. Sometimes, it was hard to remember that her darling Princess was twenty-two, well beyond childhood--and henpecking.
"Nanny," Allura continued, rising from her seat. "Shouldn't you be
overseeing something in the kitchen? Counting place settings or something?"
"I already--"
"Well, do them again!" Allura interrupted huffily, shoving Nanny out of the room. As the door closed behind the old woman, Allura heaved a sigh. She was in no mood for Nanny's nitpicking. Not today, of all days.
Allura thought. A small eternity. She could hardly believe this was happening. For the billionth time, she reached for the well-worn announcement:

VOLTRON: THE GREAT CONFERENCE
15-45-2281 S.C.
Planet Arus, Leonian System, Azure Quadrant, Denubian Galaxy
"For the Purpose of Discussing And Planning for the Bright Future of the Mighty Robot, Voltron."
ATTENDING:
Voltron of the Far Universe (Lion Force):
HRM Princess Allura Azhura Alielyonne (of the Lion)
Commander Sven Jacobsen
Lt. Commander Lance Lanyeri
Lt. Pyr "Pidge" Osyn
Lt. Heathcliff "Hunk" Chambers
Voltron of the Near Universe (Vehicle Force):
Commander-Majoris, Captain Jeffrey Castle (Air Team)
Commander-Minoris, Captain Keith Silver (Space Team)
Lt. Commander Ginger Cameron (Air Team)

Allura mused, turning the name over in her mind. For the first time since the arrival of the Voltron Force on Arus--four years ago-- Koran had cited Arusian diplomatic tradition by insisting that the full names of each person attending the Conference be used, even though it went against an old Galaxy Garrison policy intended to protect the families of soldiers during wartime. For certain long-term assignments in times of war, a Galaxy Garrison soldier was prohibited from using his family name unless it was absolutely necessary. This reduced the risk of blackmail, abduction, or other forms of harassment of the soldier's family by the enemy. As a result, Allura had never known the family names of any member of the Voltron Force. It made her sad somehow, to read these strange syllables after their familiar names; it made them sound like strangers, remote from her, instead of the friends she had cherished for four years.
In just one hour--
she admonished herself. I will not think on this anymore. We are all different people now--aren't we? Suddenly Allura did not want to be alone with her turbulent thoughts. She pulled open the door again and entered the corridor.
"Morning, Allura."
She turned. "Lance. Good morning."
"On your way to the control room?"
"I suppose. I had to get out of my room before I drove myself crazy."
"I know what you mean." Lance fell into step beside her. "Nervous?"
"A little."
"We all are, Princess. This'll be some reunion."
A few seconds of silence. "It feels," Allura began, "almost like we're going back in time, you know?"
"No kidding. The past returns--" Lance mugged a melodramatic
expression of horror, "with a vengeance."
Allura laughed. "I hope not."
Their eyes met and they both smiled. Lance's eyes softened as he noticed that Allura's smile never reached her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.
Allura looked into his eyes. "I'm scared, Lance."
"It's okay," she heard him whisper, as his arms encircled her for a hug. For an instant, Allura relished the feeling, then self-awareness hit. Their affair--brief as it was--had been over for nearly a year, yet sometimes, it felt so good to be held . . . Allura sighed and drew away. Lance would always be a special friend, but a friend nonetheless.
Apparently having reached the same conclusion, Lance cleared his throat and dropped his arms. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Old habits die hard."
Allura's expression became even more pensive. "Do they really?" she
asked.
Catching her meaning, Lance looked away, obviously uneasy. For once, he had nothing to say.
Allura suddenly touched his arm. "Lance, what if . . ." she trailed off, unable to finish. But again Lance understood.
"Allura," he said honestly, "there isn't a man in this universe who could forget you."
"Hey, you two!"
Allura and Lance looked behind them and saw Pidge striding down the hall. Even at sixteen, his old nickname still suited him. His lithe, muscular figure stood to Lance's shoulder; his reddish-brown hair no longer stood on end--well, mostly--and the intervening years had evened out his voice. But, behind the large frames he still wore, his eyes sparkled every bit as merrily as they always had. Pidge was smiling.
"Are you guys pumped? I sure am."
Allura and Lance exchanged a look. "Hi, Pidge," Allura said, trying for
cheerfulness.
Pidge grinned, seeing right through her ploy. "Don't worry, Allura," he
assured cheekily, "when Keith gets a look at you, he won't know what hit him."
Allura flushed and gave Lance a "help-me" look. "Pidge, please. That
was a long time ago."
He raised his eyebrows. "Not so long. Only two years."
"That's enough, Pidge," Lance intervened, shooting a concerned glance at the Princess.
Allura avoided his gaze. "We should get to the control room," she said to mask her discomfort. "Koran will need help sending the landing coordinates."

Koran was at the main computer when the three arrived at the control room. Hunk and Sven were already there.
Koran turned. "Ah, Princess. There you are."
Allura's eyes softened at the sight of her aging chief minister. It always made her heart sink to see the streaks of gray in his thick hair and mustache. How old he looked behind the spectacles he'd begun wearing last year! she thought, a lump in her throat. The stress of a long life lived in war was finally taking its toll.
"Are they in sight yet?" Pidge asked.
"They're a few parsecs away," replied Koran, "but they've appeared on our long-range scanners."
"Looks like they're coming in fine," Sven observed, scanning the long-
range radar. "They haven't forgotten the way."
"I should hope not," remarked Lance dryly.
"They'll need their first-approach coordinates pretty soon," Allura noted. "I'll do them, Koran." She stepped up to the control panel and began to punch keys.
"Thank you, Princess," Koran said fondly. "I'm afraid I'm not much help these days."
"Nonsense," the Princess replied, looking up. "We couldn't run this place without you. You know that."
The sadness in Koran's eyes deepened, but he forced a smile.
Something began to beep. "Hey," Pidge said excitedly, "they're getting closer! Keep sending the coordinates, Princess."
Absorbed in her task, Allura did not reply.
"In a few minutes," Sven scanned the screens, "we'll have radio contact."
"Boy, it'll be good to hear Keith's voice again," declared Pidge. "Can I
open the channel?"
"Better let me do it, Pidge," Sven smiled. "He may not recognize you."
"We have radio contact," announced Hunk two minutes later from another terminal. "You wanna do the honors, Sven?"
Sven moved over to Hunk's computer and picked up the small long-
distance comlink. He spoke into it. "Good morning. How's the weather up
there?"
A warm, familiar voice came back. Allura's fingers froze on the keyboard.
"Absolutely beautiful, Sven," said Keith. "How's our approach looking?"
"Ditto. We'll continue to send you the coordinates. It's a little windy down here."
"Copy that."
"Are you okay, Princess?" inquired Hunk.
Allura mentally shook herself. "I'm fine. Continuing to send coordinates."
"Can we get 'em on the viewscreen?" Hunk asked.
"Working on it, buddy," replied Lance, typing away at yet another terminal. "There."
Four fighter jets appeared on the large viewscreen that took up most of one wall. "Alpha-One F's," Pidge identified.
Hunk looked up in confusion. "I thought there were only supposed to be three."
"So did I." Koran and Allura exchanged a concerned look.
Just then, as the fighters turned, one of them performed a lightning three-sixty spin. "What in the world--" Allura began, startled by the pilot's rather undignified trick.
"That's not Keith or Jeff's style," Pidge stated. "Do you think it could be
Ginger?"
"That's not like her, either." Allura looked confused. "Who else could it be?"
Hunk studied the viewscreen thoughtfully. "You know, Lance, you'd
almost think it was--"
"Impossible," Lance interrupted, catching his meaning. But despite his
words, his brown eyes remained fixed curiously on the show-off pilot.
"I must have misunderstood Space Marshal Aldran," explained Koran, his brow still furrowed.
"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Sven assured him.
"Sending final approach coordinates," Allura announced, almost in a
whisper. She was afraid her voice would shake just like her fingers. She keyed the last command and stepped away from the terminal.
"In another few minutes," Koran said, "we will go to the landing bay to meet them."
Much to her annoyance, Allura suddenly felt light-headed. Trying to act naturally, she put a hand on her forehead and was startled to find it damp.
"Ready, Princess?" Lance, Hunk, Pidge and Sven chorused.
Allura shoved away her dizziness. "Let's go."
As they headed for the bay, Allura applied every diplomatic trick she knew to calm her nervousness. She was confident that outside, she appeared unaffected, but mentally, she was completely frazzled. she thought. she amended,
Allura caught Lance's eye; he gave her a confident smirk. She smiled her thanks. And then they were at the bay.

"All right, everyone," Jeff commanded, "commence final approach. You've got your landing coordinates."
"It's been so long since I've been here," Ginger marvelled, "and it's still as beautiful as I remember. Even more so."
"Beats good old polluted Galaxy Garrison," replied Jeff.
"Cyann, everyone's going to flip when they see you," Ginger predicted.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Cyann answered. In her Alpha-F, she closed the "party" comm and opened a private line to Keith's ship. "How's it going over there?"
"Just fine," Keith replied smoothly, his tone perfectly natural.
Cyann thought. She knew that, despite his calm words,
Keith had to be feeling something--in fact, she felt a little something herself.
"Hey, do you want to talk about it?" she offered.
"Not really," Keith replied shortly but politely, and closed the connection.

The four one-man fighter ships arced gracefully on their final approach. The air began to roar and the scent of engine fuel intensified as the ships hovered closer and closer to the bay. Finally, they touched down, and the roaring ceased abruptly as the pilots cut their engines.
Allura took one last, deep, long breath, and exhaled as slowly as possible. The group watched as the pilots pushed open their hatches and climbed out of their ships. At first, Allura could not tell who was who. They all wore similar uniforms with the Galaxy insignia on the breast, their heads were obscured by helmets, and they were still too far away to discern facial features. Allura tried nonetheless.
The pilot who had emerged from the ship on the far left got his helmet off first. It was Jeff, looking essentially the same as he had the last time she'd seen him, during the "Fleet of Doom" skirmish; as usual, his resemblance to Keith startled everyone, though the two were not related. The next pilot to remove her helmet was a slight, attractive woman with curly blond hair, and freckled cheeks; Allura recognized Ginger immediately, though she hadn't seen her in almost three years. As Ginger and Jeff began to walk towards the group, Allura kept her eyes on the two remaining pilots. She suddenly sucked in her breath.
While she was identifying Ginger, the last two pilots had removed their
helmets. Allura's jaw dropped at the first of two considerable shocks: the fourth pilot (and undoubtably the daredevil) was Cyann Miller! And even more shocking was the fact that she was walking! Allura thought in amazement, remembering Dr. Gorma's grim prognosis of Cyann's injury after the Coral Sector Skirmish.
Cyann's long red hair swung around her shoulders as she transferred her helmet under her arm. She walked smoothly and confidently, no trace of a limp. Allura wondered. But then she forgot about Cyann's miracle. Beside Cyann was--another Jeff? Allura was confused for a brief moment, then realization struck.
His hair had been cut. That was her first thought upon seeing the man
who had stubbornly taken up residence in her heart--his hair was short. Allura thought absurdly. As Keith neared, she noticed the differences. This man was taller than Jeff, and there was a certain mature line to his face that made him appear older than his years. Keith was as lithe as ever; Jeff was still a little stocky. For some reason, Allura was suddenly paralyzed by choking fear. Was Keith actually there, walking toward her, or was she dreaming? Instinctively, she forced her eyes away.
Koran stepped forward. "Welcome to Arus, Captain Castle, Lieutenant Cameron."
Jeff shook the diplomat's hand. "Jeff, please, and thank you, Koran."
Koran offered his hand to Ginger, and she shook it just as firmly. "It's wonderful to be here again," she gushed.
"Keith!" the Voltron Force--minus Allura--cried. He was suddenly
surrounded.
"Look at you!" Lance remarked with a wide grin. "They've made you
respectable!"
Keith grinned back. "Only on the outside."
"Wow, Keith!" Hunk exclaimed, pumping his hand excitedly. "I can't
believe you're here!"
"Good to see you, Hunk," Keith replied, not even wincing at Hunk's
mammoth grip. Then his eyes widened. "Pidge?"
The young man smiled. "I look a little different, huh?"
"I'll say. When did you grow two feet? We'll have to think up a new
nickname for you."
"Can't call me Half-Pint anymore," Pidge grinned.
"We'll have to change it to Full Pint, then, won't we?" Cyann piped up, coming forward and reaching out to affectionately pinch Pidge's cheek, chuckling to herself as the young man blushed.
"Welcome, back, Keith," Sven said, also smiling.
"Hey, Sven! How's married life treating you?"
Sven looked surprised--and a little pink. "You heard?"
Keith laughed, clapping a friendly hand on Sven's shoulder. "One does hear things. Belated congratulations."
Cyann held out her hand to Sven. "Cyann Miller," she said brightly. "I've heard a lot about you, all of it good."
"Likewise," Sven returned, shaking her hand amiably.
Standing next to Sven, Allura finally found the courage to lift her eyes-- and met Keith's.
His eyes were the same: dark, intense, and wonderfully familiar. Allura suddenly wondered how she could have gone for two years without the memory of those eyes scorched upon her brain. In the small eternity that their eyes held, the two-year gulf slowly closed, until Allura could feel the pain of that final goodbye as if it were only yesterday.
"Hey, can an old friend get a hug?"
With effort, Allura tore her gaze away from Keith. "Cyann!" They
embraced. Allura could still feel Keith's eyes on her. "What--how--you're--"
Cyann grinned. "That's right, you haven't heard." She gestured to her right leg. "It's prosthetic. Latest technology and all that."
Allura was stunned. "That's wonderful! I'm so happy for you! That means you can fly again?"
"It's a long story," Cyann dismissed the subject. "So," she continued, placing a hand on her hip and narrowing her eyes inquisitively, "what's your secret?"
Allura was confused. "I don't understand."
Cyann shook her head, pretending to be exasperated. "How can you still look so great at the rickety old age of twenty-two?"
Allura blushed at the compliment.
Lance stepped forward with a crooked grin. "You're not so bad yourself, beautiful."
"Aw, I'll bet you say that to all the girls," Cyann countered smoothly, flashing him with a cunning smirk.
Lance grinned back, taking a step forward as if to embrace her, but at the last minute he checked himself. Instead, he asked, "So what are you doing 'round these parts, stranger?" Cyann started to reply, but he interrupted. "No, wait, let me guess. It's a long story, right?"
"Hello, Princess," Keith said, capturing Allura's attention. His voice sounded odd, a little gruff. Allura wondered.
"Hello," she managed to reply, then found that her tongue was completely tied. "Welcome back," she offered lamely.
"Thanks." An awkward silence.
Koran cleared his throat discreetly. "Captain Miller, I must say this is a
surprise. Space Marshal Aldran did not mention that you would be among those attending the Conference."
Cyann answered flippantly, "It was kind of a last-minute thing."
Koran looked puzzled. Before he could inquire further, Jeff stepped
forward. "Long time, no see, Princess."
Again, Allura had to tear her eyes away from Keith's. "Likewise. Welcome to Arus."
"It's wonderful to see you again," said Ginger, giving Allura a quick hug.
"You look great," added Jeff.
"I hope you'll enjoy your stay on our beautiful planet," Allura replied, feeling like a broken record.
Koran nodded at Keith. "How have you been, Keith?"
Keith bowed back. "Very well, thank you. And yourself?"
The old man smiled, his eyes sad. "I'm still around."
Keith frowned slightly at his melancholy tone. "I hope everything on Arus is all right. You've not had troubles here?"
"Oh, we've had our share," Koran admitted wryly. "But we have emerged victorious, thanks to the mighty Voltron."
"Of course," Keith answered, nodding. He looked around. "Where's
Nanny?"
"Inside running around like a chicken with its head cut off," Allura replied, motioning toward the Castle.
Keith smiled. "Still going strong, huh?"
"Very." There was a wry flatness to her tone, but her smile made up for it.
Koran cleared his throat again. "Well, shall we go inside?"

"So," Lance said, falling into step beside Keith, "what have you been doing the past two years?"
"Being," Keith answered absently, his gaze fixed ahead of them, where the Princess, Cyann, and Ginger were walking.
Lance thought he had a pretty good idea what Keith was thinking about. "Allura's breathtaking, isn't she?" he said slyly, then laughed at the all-too-familiar look that Keith gave him. "Just testing your reflexes, cap."
Shaking his head ruefully, Keith allowed himself a sheepish smile. "And what about you, Lance? Hundreds of girls, right?"
"Thousands," Lance answered automatically, as something chimed in his subconscious. His finely-tuned senses were twitching, and for an instant, Lance had the uncomfortable feeling that Keith could see right through him, into the past. he thought guiltily. he amended a second later, . Still discomfited, Lance searched the other man's eyes, but Keith's expression was unreadable. Shaking off the strange sensation, Lance launched into another subject.
While Lance was talking, Keith drifted off again. He couldn't keep his
mind--or eyes--off the Princess. When he left Arus, she had been the loveliest creature in the universe. Now the woman he remembered was a hag compared to the beauty he saw before him now. It took his breath away.
"Keith? Hey, Keith?"
Keith started out of his reverie. "Yeah?"
Lance's gaze was knowingly amused. "I asked if you saw Cyann a lot, back at Galaxy Garrison."
"Too much," Keith joked. "She met me at the spaceport my first day back."
Lance looked surprised, and even a little suspicious. "She did? How did she know?"
"I have no idea. I'm thankful for it, though. She helped me re-learn the ropes around there. She's an amazing woman."
There was another spark of that inexplicable tension that both men felt but neither chose to analyze. Lance narrowed his eyes slightly, then his face relaxed into a fond smile. "Yeah, she is," he replied quietly, his gaze settling on Cyann.
"Hey, Keith?" Hunk appeared beside them, breaking the spell. "You up for a judo match later? I'd like a challenge for once."
"I resent that implication," Lance shot back.
"Maybe later, Hunk," answered Keith. "Let me stretch my legs first. I've been sitting in a fighter jet for three days."
"Boy, it's good to have you back, Keith," said Pidge, appearing beside
Lance. "Seems like old times, doesn't it?"
Keith looked pensive. "Not exactly, Pidge."

"So, Keith, tell us about your new job."
The team, Koran, Jeff, Ginger and Cyann were sitting at the dinner table. They'd exhausted the subject of what had happened on Arus since Keith's departure (a few early ugly battles with Lotor, then relative quiet afterward); now Hunk had turned the spotlight onto Keith himself.
Their former commander was quiet a moment, considering the question. "It's very similar to what I did here, only Jeff's in charge, not me."
"Although sometimes it's hard to tell," Jeff joked.
Keith smiled at him. "I command the Space Team, an extension of Jeff's Air Team. When we form Voltron, my team forms into a set of wings and a double-shielded helmet. It makes Voltron more maneuverable and protects the main cockpit."
"Something I'm very grateful for," Jeff interrupted, for his was the main cockpit.
"It's also helpful in an emergency because it runs separate from Jeff's peripheral control," Keith went on. "That way, if Voltron takes a nasty hit, our systems will still operate. And if, necessary, I can take over peripheral control."
"Wow." Pidge was impressed. "That's a pretty important job."
"I wouldn't expect Galaxy Garrison to give him anything less," said Sven.
"Do you enjoy it?" Allura asked.
There was a brief hesitation before Keith answered, "Yes, I do."
Silence.
"And Cyann, what are you doing these days?" asked Pidge, to fill the silence.
Cyann flicked her eyes down, smiling faintly, her arms folded on the table. "A bit of everything. Mostly navigation."
"Navigation?" Lance repeated, narrowing his eyes. "You're not a pilot?"
"Not technically." Cyann shifted in her chair. "I lost my wings when I
returned to Galaxy Garrison."
"What? Why?" Pidge queried.
"Some mumbo jumbo about pilots having to be in perfect mechanical health," Cyann scoffed. "Somehow my leg didn't quite make the cut." She shrugged. "The powers-that-be sent me to navigation, and that's where I've stayed. Sometimes I work in the control tower, but I've got to say I prefer navigation." She sounded bitter.
"That's awful, Cyann," Allura said sincerely. "I don't see how they could do that to you, with your record. It's ridiculous."
"It's not so bad," Cyann explained, forcing a smile. "At least I didn't get an honorable discharge."
"I can't believe--" Hunk was sputtering. "Who made up that stupid rule?"
"The Board . . ." Cyann rolled her eyes.
Lance crossed his arms in front of his chest. "That's the most asinine thing I ever heard of. I've a good mind to register a complaint."
"Wait a minute," Allura chimed in, remembering something she had learned about Galaxy Garrison policies. "If you lose your wings, you're restricted from all piloting duties. But you flew here in an Alpha-F. How did you get permission to do that?"
"Yeah, you never actually explained that, Cyann," Jeff spoke up, his small dark eyes serious as they focused on Cyann with a gentle challenge. "Spill it. How'd you wrangle an all-expense paid trip to the Denubian Galaxy?"
Cyann was quiet for a moment. Then she got a devilish smile. "I know a few people..."
"You don't mean--" Allura began, her blue eyes widening.
Cyann grinned. "I didn't want to miss this party, so I pulled a few strings."
Allura stared at Jeff, Ginger, and Keith. "And you all knew about this?"
"It was just as much a surprise to us, Princess," Keith answered. "We got notice on the morning of our departure."
"Those must be some strings," Pidge marvelled.
"What can I say?" Cyann flashed another smile. "I'm a friendly person."
"Yeah, I guess being friendly with Space Marshal Aldran comes in handy once in a while," Jeff remarked, leaning back in his chair.
"Jeff. . . " Ginger shot him a look of rebuke.
Cyann met Jeff's gaze testily. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"
A beat. "Come on, you two," Keith admonished warily. "We didn't come here to argue."
Allura looked from Jeff to Cyann to Keith in bafflement. "Is there something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Allura," Jeff answered smoothly. "I apologize for my tone. I'm sure that Aldran had a perfectly logical reason for sending Cyann, even though she's not a member of the Voltron Force."
"She was for a while," Lance reminded him defensively.
"A month as an alternate pilot hardly qualifies one as an expert," Koran countered. "If you'll pardon me for asking, Captain Miller, why did Aldran send you to Arus?"
"Koran," Allura said reproachfully. "This isn't an inquisition."
"It's all right, Allura," Cyann replied, "it's a fair question." She looked at Koran. "Officially, my orders are to ensure that matters at the Conference go according to Galaxy Garrison protocol."
Koran looked even more skeptical. "Princess Allura and I are well acquainted with the Galaxy Garrison diplomatic procedure," he replied, a trifle huffily. "Aldran needn't have sent a monitor."
Cyann shrugged. "I can't speak for him, but apparently he felt it was
necessary to send an impartial."
"But what do you know about diplomatic protocol?" Jeff inquired.
"I've often assisted Aldran with Board legislation. With all the politics
swirling around galaxy headquarters, I've got a pretty good understanding of
standard Garrison protocol."
Just then, the door to the dining room opened, and a page entered, bearing a letter and handing it to one of the stewards posted at the door. The page whispered something, to which the steward, a wiry man with wavy jet black hair and a pale face, nodded and waved the page away.
The steward approached Princess Allura with the note, walking around to the head of the table. Cyann, who had been sitting with her back to him, glanced at the man, and the color slowly drained from her face.
The steward handed Allura the note. "Thank you, Jed," the Princess said politely.
"My Princess." The servant bowed, a hand on his chest, and, after a quick word with another steward, departed the room.
Keith had a frown on his face. "I don't remember him," he said quietly, still eyeing the man. "Is he new? I mean--in the last two years?" This last with a sheepish grin.
"As a matter of fact, he's very new," answered Allura. "He showed up a few days ago, practically starving. He said that he'd come up from the southern continent after his village had been attacked by bandits. His family had all been killed. I felt sorry for him and offered him a position until he could decide what to do."
"You and your bleeding heart," Lance remarked affectionately. But he
wasn't smiling.
"I will do anything I can for my people," Allura retorted firmly.
Hunk had noticed Cyann's pallor. "Cyann, are you okay?"
Her vacant eyes snapped to attention. "Fine, I'm fine. I just--bit my
tongue." Her cheeks suddenly flushed.
Lance gave her a funny look, then looked at the Princess. "I still say you should have run at least some kind of background check on this guy. You never know."
Allura thought with mild irritation. "Lance, we discussed this. With our new surveillance equipment, we don't need to worry about spies anymore, not since Planet Doom was destroyed."
"Destroyed?" repeated Keith incredulously. "When?"
Allura looked at him in surprise, noticing that Jeff and Ginger wore similar expressions. "You mean you don't know?"
"Know what?"
"About a year after you left here," Pidge explained, "the Nebulon Comet passed through our galaxy. Its eccentric orbit passed too close to a massive star and the comet broke up into about a hundred pieces. Planet Doom was in the wrong place at the wrong time; it was bombarded by fragments, and eventually the atmosphere escaped into space."
"It's a just a wasteland now," contributed Sven. "All life on Doom was destroyed during the bombardment, and since there's no air, nothing can grow. You really didn't know?"
Keith shook his head in amazement. "We never heard a thing about it."
"Well, that's just like Galaxy Garrison," Cyann said shortly. "Only
concerned with its own neighborhood."
"But how could the Board keep something like that from us?" Jeff wondered. "We've had trouble with Zarkon and Lotor, too, even though they came from the other side of the Alliance. To not inform us of their destruction is a serious breach of our intelligence policy."
"Policy shmolicy," Cyann put in. "The Board of Control changes policy on a weekly basis, to suit its own needs and no one else's."
"That's a pretty serious accusation, Cyann," Sven commented. "I'm sure it can't be that bad."
"It can and it is," she replied stubbornly. "When it came to you guys out here, Galaxy Garrison's never given a damn. Believe me, I know." She sounded disgusted.
Keith gave a serious nod. "It does seem like Arus has never been high on the Garrison's priority list. Remember when we first came to Arus, and got caught in the middle of Zarkon's attack? I radioed for backup I don't know how many times, and never got an answer, let alone assistance."
"That is true," Sven was forced to admit. "It was very odd."
Allura had been listening in quiet astonishment. "I can't believe the Galaxy Alliance has gotten that corrupt. However," she added, looking at Koran, "that would certainly explain those ridiculous reforms Space Marshal Aldran sent us a few months ago."
Cyann seemed to perk up. "You know about those?"
The Princess nodded. "I wish I could say I didn't. They're appalling. Koran and I refused to have anything to do such extortion."
"Aldran believes it's the only way to make the Galaxy Alliance the most formidable power in the universe," Cyann informed her ambivalently.
"If mercenaryism is the best he can do," Lance put in dryly, "then Galaxy Garrison needs to find itself a new leader."
"I agree," Keith said quietly.
Judging from the stony expression on Keith's face, Allura deduced that something must be very wrong at the galactic headquarters. Jeff, Ginger, and Cyann looked similarly grim. She felt a brief stirring of unease.
Suddenly she remembered the letter she was holding. She opened it
quickly and frowned as she read its contents. "That's strange."
"What is it, Allura?" Ginger asked.
"All it says is: 'The fire which seems out often sleeps beneath the cinders. Be careful.' How strange."
"Is there a signature?" Keith inquired at the same time that Lance asked, "Do you recognize the handwriting?"
Allura shook her head to both questions, her brow furrowing in worry.
"I don't like it," Lance pronounced. "Get that note to the lab. They may be able to tell us where it came from."
Allura rang a small bell. The door opened and the steward called Jed entered and bowed respectfully. "My lady?"
"Please take this the lab to be analyzed, Jed." She handed the note back to him.
Jed bowed again with a thin smile. "At once, my lady." He exited.
When Allura turned back to her friends, she noticed that Lance, Keith, and now Jeff, were all gazing after the servant suspiciously. She felt a twinge of apprehension.
Cyann broke the worried silence. "Why don't we adjourn--somewhere
else?"

Jed walked quickly but calmly down the corridor, the letter clutched tightly in his hand. While his expression remained static, his thoughts revolved furiously. With effort, he relaxed his tense muscles, nodding serenely at another passing servant. .
Jed turned down a darkened, seldom used corridor, slightly off the course on which he had been sent. He glanced about the hallway, saw no one, and deftly removed a small comm unit the size of a fingernail from a corner of the wall. He flicked it on.
Immediately a familiar voice issued from the communicator. "About time you reported to me, Jedrel."
"Your conscientiousness is infallible, my lord," Jed replied with only the barest trace of sarcasm.
It was lost on the other man. "I grow tired of waiting. Report now."
"Yes, my lord. Keith and the members of the other Voltron Force have
arrived, and so far no one suspects the truth."
"Excellent," Lotor replied with satisfaction. "Everything is proceeding
according to plan. The hour of my triumph approaches."
"I have more news, my lord." Jed told the prince about the unexpected new arrival.
"Interesting," Lotor replied thoughtfully. "Do you know anything about her?"
"She works for Galaxy Garrison, but at the evening meal she was trying to incite a rebellion against Space Marshal Aldran."
"Interesting. A wild card, then. Watch her closely. Good work, Jedrel. Carry on, but try to keep out of sight. And--" the dark prince added slowly, "remember that I shall be watching you." The connection was broken.
Jed concealed the tiny comm in a white-knuckled fist. Prince Lotor was a fool, an arrogant, simple-minded oaf who did not deserve the respect he demanded. He was so obsessed with revenge against a single, pitiful planet that he was blind to anything else. Sometimes Jed wondered why his superior felt it necessary to negotiate with such a brute . . . A faint smile pierced Jed's pale face. If things truly were proceeding according to plan, Lotor would get what was coming to him, very soon. .

Prince Lotor slapped off the comm angrily, glaring at the small, dark stone room. This new information displeased him greatly. That Miller woman just might foil a scheme that had been years in the making. Lotor hoped that insipid Jedrel had not betrayed himself. There was so much hanging in the balance, and time was running out. Lotor sat back in his crude stone chair (imagine a prince reduced to sitting on stone furniture!) and fumed. His time would come, soon, very soon.

"Hey," said Cyann, as she gently nudged Keith out of his reverie. "Wanna talk?"
They were sitting in the rec room, the usual haunt of the Voltron Force when they had nothing better to do. Allura and Ginger were laughing and teasing the chittering space mice on one of the small couches. On the set of chairs, Lance, Pidge, Hunk, and Jeff were engaged in a spirited political discussion.
Without waiting for a reply, Cyann plopped down next to Keith on the second small couch. "I don't know about you, but I'm still reeling from that news about Planet Doom being destroyed," she mused, looking sideways at him. "I can't think of why Aldran didn't tell us."
"I don't like it," Keith declared. "There's something weird going on, something that we don't know about. It's unethical of Aldran to withhold information like that about our adversaries."
"But Planet Doom isn't our adversary, Keith," Cyann reminded him. "Doom is Planet Arus' problem."
Keith looked up sharply. "But Planet Arus is a member of the Galaxy Alliance," he argued, "and therefore any problem of Arus is a problem of ours." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You never heard a word about Planet Doom?"
Cyann raised her eyebrows in innocence. "Keith, do you actually think I'd keep something like that from you?"
Keith did not reply. He looked away, but after a few seconds of silence his eyes once again focused on her. "Hey, Cyann, did that Jed guy look familiar to you?"
"And what are you two being so secretive about?" Allura asked, suddenly appearing in front of them, hands on her hips in mock severity.
"Nothing much," Cyann replied, shifting gears easily. "We were just talking about you behind your back."
Allura smiled, knowing Cyann was kidding. "You two looked pretty serious. Is anything wrong?"
Something caught Cyann's eye across the room. "As a matter of fact,
there is. Lance is telling jokes. I'd better go rescue poor Jeff. Catch ya later."
Allura and Keith both grinned as Cyann sauntered away. Then Allura
asked, "Mind if I sit down?"
"Not at all. Have a seat, Princess."
Allura sat down beside him. "You don't have to be so formal, you know. You can call me by my name."
He smiled. "Sorry, Princess--I mean, Allura. Old habits die hard."
Allura started slightly, remembering that Lance had said the very same thing that morning. She studied him in the corner of her eye; there was so much to say, yet the words stuck in her throat. "So," she drawled, grasping for the first phrase that came to mind, "are you happy at Galaxy Garrison?"
"You already asked me that," he reminded her.
"Well, I'm asking you again. Are you happy--really happy--there?"
He sighed. "I guess."
Allura's eyebrows shot up. "You guess?"
"Well, if I said I've never been happier, not only would I be lying, but I'd run the risk of hurting your feelings."
"I see." Allura hesitated. "I missed you. We all did," she added self- consciously.
Keith looked back at her, the beginnings of a crooked grin showing at his lips. "I missed you guys, too."
Allura felt a rosy flush start to creep toward her face. Instinctively, she
looked away--only to realize that she and Keith were alone in the room.
Keith followed her gaze. "Subtle, aren't they?"
"Y-yes." The realization of being alone with Keith temporarily threw Allura off. She tried to think of something to say.
Keith spoke first. "So, how've you been?"
"Good. You?"
"Good."
"I'm glad." Nervous silence. Allura glanced at her watch. "Oh!"
"What?" inquired Keith.
"It's after ten," Allura said in dismay. "Koran will be activating the nighttime alarm system. I have to help him." She got up quickly.
Keith rose as well. "Can I help?"
Allura smiled. "If you want to. Let's go."
"Lead, the way--Your Majesty," he teased.

Cyann closed the door to the lounge with exaggerated care, her finger poised over her lips to keep the snickering group silent. She moved away from the door and motioned for them to follow her. They tiptoed a few feet down the hall, then, judging themselves a safe distance away, erupted into laughter.
"Think they got the hint?" Pidge asked, his brown eyes twinkling.
"Even if they didn't," Hunk stifled another hearty chuckle, "at least we got to brush up on our stealth maneuvers."
Another burst of laughter. "You guys have been planning this, haven't you?" Jeff said knowingly.
"Ever since we got the news that Keith was coming back," Pidge answered.
"How could we let them pass up an opportunity like this?" Lance added with a roguish grin.
"I think it's sweet," said Ginger. "I love to fix people up."
"As every ex-couple at Galaxy Garrison knows only too well," Cyann retorted wryly, smirking at Ginger's scowl.
They rounded a corner, reaching a junction of merging hallways, and froze, their mirth forgotten. Jed stood there, gazing at them with an expression akin to distaste.
"I have a message for Captain Miller," he said coolly, holding out an envelope bearing the official Galaxy Garrison seal.
Instantly professional, Cyann met the servant's gaze levelly. "Thank you," she said, somewhat curtly, accepting the note.
Jed gave a brief bow and turned on his heel, retreating into the darkness from which he had come.
"I don't like that guy," Lance said in disgust. "There's something weird about him."
"I agree." Jeff's brow was creased. "He almost looks like--" he broke off, shooting a quick, curious glance at Cyann, who was gazing after the servant with a similar expression. "Like he's hiding something."
"Oh, you," Ginger shook her head. "You've just been around Galaxy Garrison too long. You see spies everywhere."
"Are things really that bad at GG?" Lance asked seriously.
"You have no idea," Cyann responded, shaking off her suspicion and breaking the seal. She scanned the note briefly, frowning slightly.
"Something wrong?" Hunk wanted to know.
Cyann stuffed the note in her pocket and shook her head. "Just Aldran checking up on me," she said lightly. "You know how those diplomats are, they think us pilots can't do anything without a flight plan."
Lance made a face. "And you call my jokes bad!"
Pidge laughed. "You haven't changed a bit, Cyann." Fighting a yawn, he went on, "Well, I hate to say it, folks, but I'm beat, and Hunk, Lance, and I have to be up at six for practice tomorrow morning."
"Don't remind me," grumbled Hunk.
Ginger raised a fair eyebrow. "Sven is holding flight practice on the day of the Conference?"
"You forget that Keith was the one who trained him," Lance retorted. To Hunk and Pidge, he added, "You guys go ahead. Cyann and I have some catching up to do."
"Whatever you say, Lance." Hunk winked at him. "'Night, everybody."
"Good night." The group separated in different directions, Hunk and Pidge ambling off in the direction of their rooms, Jeff and Ginger heading in another direction, Cyann and Lance in the other.
"Well," Lance drawled, slinging an arm around Cyann's shoulders, "you have a lot of explaining to do, Miller."
Cyann shot him a look of confusion. "What?"
"Two years and I haven't heard a word from you. I'm hurt."
"Well, it's not like I got a letter from you every week, you know," Cyann shot back, defensiveness creeping into her voice. Lance raised his eyebrows at her vehemenence, and she sighed, continuing in a more serious manner. "Come on, Lance. We both know that as far as our relationship was concerned, it ended when I went back to Galaxy Garrison."
Lance's jaw slackened at her nonchalant tone. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You moved on with your life, and I moved on with mine," Cyann went on casually. "We're different people now." She noticed his nonplussed expression and shrugged, unruffled. "It's no big deal."
"No big deal, huh?" Lance responded dryly. "Thanks a lot."
A smile softened Cyann's cool facade. Stopping in front of her room; she fumbled for her key. "I've got work to do; I'll see you later, okay?"
She started to move away, but he restrained her. "Later?" he repeated enticingly.
Cyann laughed heartily and gave his cheek an affectionate pat. "Take a cold shower, honey." She leaned toward him, continuing in a whisper, "And come back in ten minutes."

On their way to the control room, Allura explained her haste. "Koran's eyesight isn't what it was. I'm sure you've noticed that he has to wear spectacles. I don't understand it." A lump came to her throat. "Suddenly, he seems so--old. And he's only fifty-nine."
When they reached the control room, Allura pressed the entrance button and the doors slid apart.
Koran was bent over the central keyboard. He turned at their
entrance. "Ah, Princess. Hello, Keith."
"Is there anything that I can help with?" Keith wanted to know.
"Let me do it, Koran," Allura said, hurrying to his side. Immediately, she began to furiously type the commands that would activate the perimeter alarm and the early warning satellites that would alert the Castle in case of attack.
"I am perfectly fine," Koran said, with a touch of self-reproach. "It's just a little dim in here, that's all."
Allura finished setting the alarms and turned away from the keyboard.
"There. Now, Koran," she admonished, like a mother scolding her child, "next time, I want you to wait for me. You mustn't strain your eyes."
"My eyes are fine," Koran insisted, if half-heartedly. He was suddenly
seized by a fit of coughing. Keith and Allura were at his side in an instant. They exchanged a concerned glance over his bowed head.
When the spasm ended, Koran looked noticeably older and oceans more fatigued.
"Koran, you should get to bed," Allura said, fighting to keep the lump in her throat from affecting her tone.
They escorted him out of the control room and down the hall to his bedchamber. There, Allura tenderly kissed his cheek. "Get a good night's sleep, Koran. There's a lot of diplomacy to dish out tomorrow at the Conference."
The minister smiled. "Good night, Allura, Keith."
"Good night, Koran," said Keith.
When the door closed, Allura turned and took a few steps down the hall, then stopped. Keith sensed her distress and was immediately at her side.
"Allura, are you okay?"
"It makes my heart ache to see him like this," she said softly, making no effort to control her shaking voice. "He caught a bad cold last year, and it just hung on him for months afterward. He kept trying to go about his business like he always had, but it just made him even more tired, and he would get sick again. I worry about him every second. I'm afraid--" her face crumpled slightly, and a tear appeared and began to slide down her pale cheek. She felt Keith's hands on her shoulders, gently turning her to face him.
"Don't cry, Allura. Koran is a strong man. He's got decades left in him."
"He's very proud. I'm afraid that he's not telling me everything. He hates to appear weak."
Keith knew she was right, but he also knew better than to say it. Instead of replying, he simply squeezed her shoulders with more affection than the gesture implied. Too upset to monitor her behavior, Allura instinctively leaned forward, her tear-stained face against his broad shoulder. She waited until she felt his arms go around her, before she closed hers around him. Finally allowing herself to relax, Allura closed her eyes, remembering the last time she had sought warmth against Keith's strong shoulder.
Unseen to Allura, Keith closed his eyes as well.
Self-awareness seemed to hit them both at once. They pulled away at the same instant. But their gaze did not break.
"Allura," Keith said quietly, "I want you to know something."
"Yes?" Her heart was suddenly in her throat.
"I want you to know that, even though I don't fly with you guys anymore, I'm still with you. If you guys ever get into trouble, I want you to contact me. Don't go through Galaxy Garrison; contact me directly, and I promise you that I'll drop whatever I'm doing and set course for Arus."
"Keith," Allura protested, "I can't ask you to do that. You have
responsibilities at Galaxy Garrison. We can take care of ourselves."
Keith smiled, seeing the stubborn girl he remembered in the woman who stood before him. "Humor me, Princess. I don't like the fact that we just now heard about Planet Doom. It means that Galaxy Garrison is withholding information, and that could be dangerous. It worries me. I don't like the idea of you guys calling for help and me never knowing about it. Promise me that you'll contact me if you ever need--anything?"
"Keith, I can't ask--"
"You don't have to," he interrupted. "I'm offering. Please," he looked into her eyes, "promise me."
"I will," Allura replied, almost hypnotized. "And the same goes for you. I mean that," she added, when she saw Keith start to protest. "I know we're a defense force, but we're also your friends. Friends look out for each other."
"Allura--" he was at a loss.
Allura sensed they were on the brink of something important. Suddenly the inhibitions that had held her prisoner for so many years dispelled. "You just told me that, if I needed you, you'd come at the drop of a hat. Well, Commander Keith," she smiled at his old nickname, "what if I were to tell you that I'd do the same for you?" The words were simple, yet heavy with feeling.
"Allura," he repeated softly, his eyes serious as they held hers. After a brief hesitation, he reached for her hands, enclosing them in his. "There's something I have to tell you."
"Yes?" Allura breathed, her heart pounding.
"Two years ago," Keith began slowly, "when I left, it wasn't because I didn't--" he broke off, his eyes imploring her to understand his meaning.
Allura expelled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I know."
Later, Allura could not recall which of them moved first. All she could
remember was Keith's face moving toward hers, herself saying a desperate
prayer that Koran or Nanny or anyone wouldn't suddenly walk by. And then she felt the wonderful sensation of his lips against hers. Instinctively, Allura's hands moved to touch his shoulders, resting yet holding on for dear life. She felt Keith's arms close around her waist, and she reached up to lock her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, hardly aware of what she was doing, and not really caring. For a brief eternity, she and Keith were the only two people on the planet.
When, inevitably, the kiss ended, their arms remained entwined. Allura looked up at him and asked, "Please say it. Do you love me, Keith?"
A moment passed before he replied. "Yes," Keith whispered, his voice husky with emotion, "I always have, with all my heart."
"Good," she whispered back, her voice thick. "Because you've always had mine."
Keith gazed at her in wonder, the significance of her words rendering him speechless. Gently, his hand lifted to touch her cheek, caressing it like a delicate work of art, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that forbade breathing. Suddenly he smiled. "I've wanted to do this for a long time, Princess," and he lowered his lips to touch hers again in a kiss that made Allura weak in the knees. She relished every moment, feeling hot tears seeping from her closed eyes--only now they were tears of happiness.

Prince Lotor stared in dumbstruck amazement. On the small viewscreen, connected via radio to the small camera installed in one of the many corridors in the Castle of Lions, he saw Princess Allura lift her face to meet Keith's in a long kiss that made Lotor's blood boil into murderous rage. The embrace seemed to go on forever, until Lotor truly believed that he would go mad if he were forced to watch another second. Mechanically, he raised his fist and brought it down on the table with such force that a spider web of cracks were left in the hard stone. Oblivious to the throbbing pain in his right hand, Lotor brought his other hand back and swung at the viewscreen, smashing it and sending it crashing to the floor. "Kavor!" he yelled, his voicing reberverating off
the rock.
A built Doomnian appeared in the doorway, visibly shaking at the sight of his master's contorted face and bleeding hands. "Y-yes, sir?"
"Is my army ready?" Lotor growled.
"Not quite, s-sir," Kavor wavered. "We have only one-fourth of battalion assembled."
"Summon them."
"But sir--"
"I said summon them!" the dark prince roared. "Immediately! Full
arsenal."
"Yes sir!" Kavor fumbled. "What course shall I have them set for?"
Lotor bared his teeth as his yellow eyes glared daggers through the dirty stone walls of his makeshift castle. "Arus," he spat.

"I don't believe this," Ginger declared, exasperated. "This is beyond paranoid."
"I'm telling you, Ginger, there's something funny going on," Jeff insisted. "Why would Aldran wait until the last minute to send Cyann unless something was up? And why her? Why not someone else from the Voltron Force?"
"What's this all about, Jeff?" Ginger asked curiously. "Why are you suddenly so suspicious of Cyann?"
Jeff looked away. "I just think that she knows a lot more than she's letting on. What was all that jazz at dinner about working in navigation? I haven't see her there since her leg was fixed. But haven't you noticed that she has a way of appearing almost everywhere else, including here? The phrase 'finger in every pie' comes to mind. Cyann Miller is up to something."
"And just what makes you such an expert on Cyann Miller?" Ginger challenged. "You don't even like her. You never have. Is that what this is about? Are you so wrapped up in your dislike that--"
Jeff looked away impatiently. "Come on, Ginger," he interrupted, "you know as well as I do that there's a storm brewing at Galaxy Garrison. And we also know that Cyann and Aldran are pretty tight. So all I'm saying is, it wouldn't be unheard of if he pulled a few strings for her now and then."
Ginger crossed her arms over her chest with unconcealed skepticism. "Are you suggesting that the only reason Cyann is here is because she's good friends with Aldran?"
"Can you think of a better reason for her to attend the Voltron Conference, even though she's not a pilot?"
"Yes I can. Cyann knows a lot about Voltron. She was one of the original applicants for the Force, and she probably would have made the team if it wasn't for her bad leg. And then she served as Allura's alternate--"
"For one month," Jeff interrupted again.
"So what? She's also good friends with all of us. Maybe Aldran thought she'd made a good mediator or something." Ginger saw Jeff frown. "What's that look for?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes.
"Why would Aldran wait until the last minute to send someone who has nothing to do with Voltron to Planet Arus?" Jeff questioned, then shook his head. "Something's going on that we don't know about."
Ginger shook her head. "I still say you're paranoid." After a beat, she frowned slightly. "One thing, though: if Cyann's such a good friend to the Space Marshal, then why did she say those things at dinner? For someone who's so 'friendly' with Aldran, as you put it, she didn't sound like she thought much of him."
Jeff looked pensive. "That's another thing that doesn't add up, Ginger."

"Lance!" Cyann protested, laughing. "Will you knock it off? I'm trying to read here!"
"Not until you surrender," he replied, tickling her again. She slapped his hand and moved to the other side of the bed, trying again to concentrate on the brief she was reading.
"What's so interesting?" Lance asked, trying unsuccessfully to snatch the brief away from her.
Cyann moved it out of his reach and turned away. "Cut it out, Lance. This is important."
"Some little piece of paper is more important than me?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
He rolled his eyes. "Can I help it if I missed you?"
Cyann set the brief down. "Unbelievable," she said to herself.
"Did you miss me?" Lance persisted, playing with a strand of her red- gold hair.
"I am not at liberty to say."
He smirked at her. "Spoken like a true officer. What's with you tonight? You seem distracted."
"It's nothing." She looked at her watch. "Yikes, it's almost one."
"You should get to bed," Lance said, grinning wickedly.
"Probably."
"Want some help?"
Cyann slapped him hard on the shoulder. "You never give up, do you?"
"Not until I get what I want." He took her hand in his.
"You are the most arrogant, self-absorbed little--" she was fighting a smile.
"I love it when you talk dirty." Lance moved closer, gently caressing both her hands now.
Cyann gazed with longing into his warm familiar brown eyes, and then freed a hand and put it on his chest to stop him. "We have to talk."
"We can talk later," Lance replied absently, letting go of her hand and
moving up her arm. "I've got something better in mind."
"Laaaance." Exasperation lengthened the syllable. "Could you please put your hormones on hold for a second? We have to talk," she repeated.
Lance moved away, trying to conceal his childish pout. "Is that why you invited me in? Just to talk?"
Cyann raised her eyebrows. "Sorry to ruin your night, but yes, as a matter of fact, it is. Like you said, we have a lot of catching up to do."
Lance leaned back on his hands. "Such as?"
"It's been two years since we last saw each otherr, Lance. That's a long time. I want to know what you've been up to."
He shrugged. "Same old thing, protecting Arus from the scum of the galaxy."
"Anything else?"
He arched an eyebrow. "Is this an inquisition, Captain?"
"More of an interrogation, Lieutenant."
"That's Lieutenant Commander to you," Lance shot back. "No, that's pretty much it. What about you?"
"Me? Oh, the usual: intrigue, danger, same old thing."
Lance chuckled. "Well you haven't changed a bit. You're still full of it." He tried to kiss her.
Cyann shifted to avoid him. "Wait a minute, Lance. Things are different now."
Lance sighed in exasperation. "How are they different? I like you, you like me, we're great in bed--what else is there?"
She regarded him as if he were a three-year-old. "That's not what I mean! There are certain things we have to discuss."
"All right, all right," he amended, catching her meaning. "Do you have a deadly disease? Illegitimate children? Owe some money--what?!" he exclaimed when she smacked him hard on the shoulder.
Cyann was clearly annoyed. "Why can't you take this seriously?"
"Why does it have to be so serious?" Lance rebounded. Then his expression solidified. "Is there something wrong?"
"Yes. There's something specific you're not telling me."
"And what would that be?"
"About you and Allura."
There was a long silence. Lance's expression faded from one of impatience to one of amazement--and guilt. "Who told you?"
Cyann's gaze was shrewd. "You just did, Lance-honey."
He simply stared.
Cyann felt herself suddenly uncomfortable under his shocked gaze. "I picked up on some weird vibes, okay? And with Keith gone, the coast was clear--"
"Shut up," Lance spat before she could finish. His face had gone cold. "You have no idea what you're talking about, so save your breath. Keith is my friend, and so is Allura. You can't possibly understand--never mind, I can't discuss it with you."
"Apparently not," she retorted frostily. "What do I care, anyway?" She turned her gaze away from him.
Lance glared at her and raked a frustrated hand through his tousled hair. He sat up, ardence forgotten, and crossed his arms defensively over his chest. "So, what do you want me to say?"
Cyann continued to look away, focusing on the wall opposite the bed. "There's nothing to say," she remarked stiffly. "Who could blame you?"
There was a subtle chime in the statement that sounded a klaxon to Lance's astute senses. He stared at her in sudden comprehension. "You're jealous."
She flinched and looked him hard in the eye. "I most certainly am not." Pause. "You could have told me."
"And I could have sold my soul to the devil, too, but I chose otherwise."
"I wouldn't have been angry. I know you well enough."
Lance's brows drew together. "Now what the hell is that supposed to mean, Cyann? That I'm weak?"
Cyann's cool blue eyes met his evenly. "You said it, I didn't."
Furious, Lance rose to his feet, crossing to the other side of the room and facing her challengingly. "Damn it, Cyann! You always do this! You insult me while holding that damn halo over your own head! Well, I know you well enough too, and you're no god-damn angel! "I'm sure there are plenty of things you haven't told me about!"
"Oh yeah, like what?" she challenged.
"Like why you lied about working in navigation."
A retort sprang to her lips, then died as his words hit home. Her blue eyes widened in shock. "What--?" she stammered, caught off guard.
The fire had faded from his eyes, replaced by a perceptive gleam. "I can tell when someone's lying, Cyann," he said quietly. "I can always tell."
Cyann stared at him, speechless.
Lance took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "Look, I'm not going to ask you why you lied, Cyann. It's none of my business what you've done since you left, unless you choose to tell me. I'm willing to accept that, because I trust you. But you have to trust me, and that means you have to accept that there are things I don't have to tell you unless I choose to."
Still she stared at him, unable to speak. Then she nodded weakly. "Fair enough. Truce?"
"Truce," he agreed. "Now if I remember correctly," the devilish spark was back in his eyes, "we were just about to be in the middle of something."
Cyann shook her head in wonder at his transformation from mature man into mischievous boy in a matter of seconds. She pulled him eagerly into her arms.
A second later, every alarm in the Castle began to chime. Startled, Cyann and Lance jumped apart. "What the hell--" Cyann began.
"Come on," said Lance, suddenly all business. "We've got to get to the control room!"

Koran was already there, furiously bringing the systems back online.
Lance dashed into the control room, Cyann hot on his heels. "What's going on, Koran?"
"A fleet, a large one, just came out of hyperspace and is approaching fast.," Koran answered. "It almost looks like--it can't be . . ."
Sven, Hunk and Pidge were next to arrive. "What happened?" they
chorused.
"In a moment we'll have a visual," said Koran. An image appeared on the large screen, and everyone gasped.
"No way!" breathed Hunk.
Lance stared. "That's impossible!"
Allura and Keith came running. "What is it?" Keith asked, slightly out of breath.
Allura let out a gasp as she recognized the fleet. "Planet Doom? How can it be?"
"I thought all life on Planet Doom was destroyed," said Keith, looking at the others for confirmation.
"So did we," Lance replied. "This is not good."
"Where are they headed, Koran?" Sven demanded grimly.
Koran pressed a button, and his face became gray. "They are heading for the village," he said dully. "And they're firing."

Jed was awakened by a loud noise. He hurriedly rose and ran to the window. He saw fire, coming almost certainly from the small village that was located just down the hill from the castle. There were huge black ships hovering over it, familiar ships...
He dressed quickly and went out into the hallway, examining the walls and finding another tiny comlink in a corner of the wall. He turned it on. "Lotor! Prince Lotor!"
"Ah, Jedrel, my friend," the prince's voice came back silkily. "So lovely to hear from you."
"What is going on?" Jed shouted. "This was not part of the plan!"
"I am altering the plan," Lotor replied coolly. "Have you got a problem with that?"
Jed clenched his teeth. "Of course not, my lord. I just wish that you could have informed me. I might have been able to help."
Lotor gave a harsh laugh. "I don't need you. The deal's off, Jedrel!"
"You can't do this!" Jed rasped, "I won't--ah!"
Jed was suddenly grabbed from behind, his arms wrenched behind his
back. Stunned, he dropped the comlink.
"Don't move," came voice behind him. "Just who exactly--"
Jed struggled violently, trying to kick his attacker and landing a hit in the other man's stomach. The man behind him stumbled slightly, and then Jed felt a dull blow at the back of his head. Everything went black.
"Jeff!" Ginger cried in alarm.
"I'm all right, " he replied. "Help me lift him. We've got to get this spy to the control room and find out what he's doing here."
"Wait!" Ginger's eye caught on something. She bent to pick it up. "This just might explain things," she said, holding up the tiny comlink.

Allura's hands flew to her lips, holding back a cry of anguish. "Firing?" she repeated, horrified. The memory of Keith's lips was achingly fresh. That something so horrible could follow something so beautiful was utterly unthinkable, uncomprehensible...
Cyann had the foresight to yell, "Somebody catch her!"
Keith was at Allura's side at once, supporting her sagging form in his
strong arms. When Allura felt his arms around her, she seemed to snap out her trance. Her eyes watered, and she pulled herself straight.
"I'm fine, I just...it was a shock." Her voice was a whisper, as if she feared to raise it.
"Is she all right?'' Koran asked in alarm.
"She's all right," Keith replied, gently lifting Allura's chin so he could look in her eyes. He smiled faintly. "She's a trooper."
Allura felt warmed immediately. She realized that he was remembering their embrace as well, and took solace in the memory as she did.
Watching Keith and Allura, Sven allowed himself a grin of his own. Even if things went to hell from this point on, at least they had managed to find a little happiness together. Heaven knew they both needed it. he mused, feeling a pang for his wife, Romelle.
Just then, things began to go to hell. The control room doors slid open, revealing Jeff and Ginger, hauling a motionless Jed.
Cyann turned and gasped. "What the hell happened?"
"We caught him sending a message to Prince Lotor on this," Ginger
explained, holding up the small piece of machinery.
"Lotor!" Lance exclaimed. "That son of a bitch is still alive?"
"Let me see that," said Cyann, stepping forward to examine the comlink, stealing a brief, stunned glance at the unconscious man. "I've seen these before: a Nanotransmitter. They use nanochips, billions of them. These babies can transmit over thousands of parsecs, and they're so small, they're nearly untraceable."
"Which means they could be everywhere," Keith finished darkly.
Koran pressed an intercom. "Search the Castle for surveillance
equipment! Use a particle scanner. Disable anything as soon as you find it!"
Allura suddenly remembered the village. "Those poor people...we've got to get to the lions!" she cried. "I'm fine!" she insisted when they gave her questioning looks. "Let's go, we're losing time!"
"Wait a minute!" said Koran. "I'm picking up something--it's Lotor's personal ship! He's heading around the castle, toward the observation deck!"
"Where we first met him," Keith supplied grimly, remembering. "Jeff and Ginger, make sure Jed is secure, and see if you can get a statement out of him when he wakes up. Cyann, see if you can help the guards disable those nanotransmitters."
"Right," all three said in unison.
"Let's go!" called Sven.

The sky was just lightening behind Lotor's ugly black ship, which gave the appearance of a mammoth black bird hovering before the large window from which the observation lounge took its name. In the small, raised cockpit at the apex of the ship, the familiar outline of the prince's horned helmet was discernable, but despite the light surrounding the ship, Lotor's face was hung with shadows, draping like black cobwebs, obscuring his features, so that his yellow eyes stood out alone, gleaming like a cat's and seeming to penetrate the thick glass with their glittering anger. Altogether, it was a disturbing sight.
Keith wasted no words. "What do you want?"
Lotor's lips curled. "I want a hostage: you or Princess Allura, or I shall lay waste to your village. You have one hour."
Keith took a step forward. "We don't need an hour. Stop your attack and take me."
"No!" cried Allura. "Keith, he'll kill you!"
"Don't worry about me," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving Lotor's.
She touched his arm. "How can I not?" They gazed at each other for a long moment. Pidge, looking discreetly away from the couple, had the misfortune to glance at Prince Lotor, and saw the prince's shadowed face contort with jealousy. He shuddered.
"One hour!" Lotor shouted, and his black ship moved away. Everyone flocked around Keith.
"You're much too valuable, Keith," Allura explained, fear shining in her
cerulean eyes. "We need you, Galaxy Garrison needs you. Let me go and you guys can follow me."
"Absolutely not," Keith answered immediately. "I will not hand you over to that monster."
"Wait!" Lance suddenly cried. "I have an idea." He motioned everyone closer. "I hate to say this--I really hate to say this, but the Princess has a point."
"What?!" Keith, Sven, Hunk, and Pidge exclaimed.
"It's like this," Lance began. "Lotor's got to know we'd never willingly hand over the Princess. Therefore, he's probably expecting Keith to go as hostage. He's out for your blood, Keith, not Allura's and not Arus's. They're just means to an end--and I think we can guess what that end is."
"So what do we do?" said Hunk. "We can't let Keith go knowing that."
"It's simple," Lance said. "We've got to try to catch Lotor off guard."
"By giving him the Princess?" Keith finished, understanding. "That's crazy."
Lance looked Keith in the eye. "Crazy enough to work. I don't like this idea any more than you do, but we can't risk giving him what he wants until we find out what he's up to."
"It's a risk either way," Sven said thoughtfully. "But I agree that it may be best not to give Lotor what he wants right away. On the other hand, Allura may be walking into the lion's mouth."
"Thanks, Sven, that's a great way to put it," Lance said, disgusted but concerned as he took in the Princess's still form. "Are you up to this?"
Her heart pounding in her chest, Allura nodded with all the confidence she could muster. "Of course."
Everyone looked at Keith, knowing how difficult this was for him. The
captain's eyes were lowered, his mind obviously working furiously.
"The second--the millisecond--that Lotor's ship leaves the danger zone, we'll follow him," Lance declared fervently. "We'll get you back, Princess."
"I know you will," Allura said, her eyes on Keith.
"Final decision is yours, Keith." Hunk spoke quietly, knowing that Keith had every reason to oppose this plan.
"It may be the only way," said Sven, understanding and aching for his friend's pain. "We have to trust Allura."
Suddenly Keith looked up, his jaw set and his face a mask. "All right."
Allura felt tears prick her eyes. Moved by his turmoil, she tried to catch his eye, but his gaze refused to meet hers. Finally she gave up and looked away. "I'd better get ready." With one, last, searching look at Keith, she left the room.
As soon as she was gone, Keith's mask fell. He let out a shaky breath, crossing his arms and pressing a fist to his lips, his eyes closed tightly as if in pain.
Everyone looked at him sympathetically. They didn't feel all that great
themselves, but they knew it had to be nothing compared to what Keith was going through.
Lance's jaw was set in a hard line. Gripping Keith's shoulder firmly, he
repeated, "We'll get her back."
Keith managed a wry grin. "I know. Because you're dead meat if we don't."
Lance saluted respectfully. "Yes, sir."

The Voltron Force and Keith returned to the control room, ghost-white, and without the Princess. Koran looked up sharply. "Where is Allura?"
Sven quietly explained their plan. Koran went deathly pale. "Have you all lost your minds?" he cried.
"It's the only way," Pidge said, his voice breaking a little.
"For heaven's sake," Koran continued in exasperation, "if Lotor wants
Keith, then why doesn't he go?" He looked at Keith accusingly. "You're a trained solider. Why must you risk the Princess's life to call Lotor's bluff?"
Keith had his arms folded protectively over his chest. It was obvious the remark stung. He neither met Koran's eye nor replied.
Lance stepped forward. "This was my idea. Keith wanted to go, but we wouldn't let him." He rattled off the advantages of the plan, adding, "Allura's tougher than she looks; she can take this."
Koran rung his hands. "I just don't see why--"
"Koran," Cyann interrupted sedately, having entered unannounced while Lance was talking, "one way or the other, Allura is in danger. Either she goes with Lotor now and we trust her to take care of herself, or Lotor kills Keith and goes after her anyway. It's a stalemate."
Koran visibly sagged. "Oh, the poor girl," he mused despairingly, "surrounded on all sides. If King Alfor were alive, he would be greatly displeased."
"Nonsense," Keith said suddenly and distinctly, his dark eyes glittering. "He would be proud. You've brought Allura up as a capable, determined woman, and that's the highest honor you can pay to the memory of her father."
"Keith is right," said Sven. "We must all believe in Allura's ability--
because if we don't, then she won't."
"I suppose you are right," Koran admitted in a defeated tone.

As she dressed, Allura tried not to think of the danger of what she was
doing. Although she would never have admitted it, she was frightened--and, by the look in his eyes, she knew that Keith was, too. In all her years of knowing Keith, Allura had never seen him nervous. One of the first things she'd admired about him had been his ability to remain cool and collected under pressure, no matter the stakes. Today, his brow had been shining with sweat, and there had been an unmistakable edge to his voice. That frightened Allura even more.
Even though she knew that the first thing Lotor would do was remove any weapons she had, Allura still tucked a tiny blaster in the waist of her pants, and concealed a small knife in her boot. She was careful to limber up, in case it became necessary to defend herself--and she was certain it would--comforting herself in the knowledge that her judo skills had greatly improved since the last time she'd had to fight off Lotor's advances. Fifteen minutes left.
It was time. Allura gazed at her white face in the mirror, silently prayed to her father for strength, and left the room.
She met the rest of the team outside the Castle. When she saw Koran, her eyes filled with tears. He looked so worried. She embraced the older man, whispering, "I will return."
Then only Keith remained. He looked at her, his eyes blacker and more intense than she had ever observed them. Knowing the source of his
consternation, Allura said, "Don't worry; I'll be fine. I know what I'm doing."
Keith sighed. "I hate the thought of abandoning you to that evil man."
"You're not abandoning me," she argued. "I'm doing this of my own free will. I'm doing this for myself, for Arus, and--for you." She took his hand. "You've always risked your life for me as if it didn't matter to you at all--and maybe it doesn't. But your life matters to me, Keith. You may not care whether or not Lotor kills you, but I do. I can't imagine my life without you. These past two years . . . " Allura trailed off and sighed. "You've risked your life for me so many times. Please let me return the favor."
With a harsh sigh, Keith took her into his arms, holding her as if he'd never let go. "I will come for you," she heard him whisper fiercely. "Know that."
"I know," Allura whispered back.
The air filled with an unmistakable roar. Allura and Keith looked up to see the black insectlike form of Prince Lotor's black ship slowly descending. Thirty feet away, it landed, and slowly lowered its gangplank.
Keith suddenly looked into her eyes. "Let me go," he implored. "Please don't do this."
"I have to do this, Keith," Allura answered firmly, biting back her fear.
They could hear the sound of boots striding down the metal platform, and a moment later Lotor emerged from the darkness of his flagship. The Doom prince was still dressed in his usual black and purple uniform, but as he approached, they could see that the material showed visible wear and tear, as did his famous horned helmet. As Lotor's face became visible, both Allura and Keith were unable to suppress a gasp of revulsion. Half of the proud prince's face was a mottled pink, crossed with dark streaks like-- scars. Allura thought numbly, unable to tear her eyes away from the horrible sight. As Lotor moved closer, she could see that one of his yellow eyes was slightly off-center, distorted by the ravaged skin that surrounded it. Allura felt her stomach drop to her ankles, and, almost without realizing it, she reached out to touch Keith's arm for reassurance.
The dark prince glared at both of them. "Well, which of you is it?"
"I will go," Allura began bravely, trying not to look at the deformity, "but before I take one step toward your ship, I want you to send your fleet outside Arus's atmosphere. Now." She gave him a hard stare.
Lotor was clearly surprised. He looked at Keith. Both men stared each other in the face for a long moment.
"You heard me," Allura continued severely, all too aware of the heavy tension in the air. "Do it now."
Slowly, Lotor reached for his comlink. "Kavor, take the fleet back into space." There was a brief pause and some angry scratching from the small transmitter. "Now!" Lotor shouted. "That is an order!" He looked at Allura as he tucked the instrument away. "Recall, my dear, that I can resume the attack as easily as I can stop it."
Allura's brow furrowed. "I am a woman of my word." A lump of fear in her throat, Allura started forward, calmly ascending the gangplank into the vast blackness of the ship. Keith continued to stand frozen, his brow creased in a scowl and his hands clenched tightly into fists.
Lotor smiled at Keith's torment and gave a mocking bow. "It appears the best man has won."
"This isn't over, Lotor," said Keith with cold anger.
Lotor's grin only widened. He turned his back on Keith and followed
Allura.
Keith's eyes remained fixed on the ship as it lifted off. Long after the
vessel was gone, he repeated, "This isn't over."

In another part of the Castle, Jeff and Ginger were waiting for their
prisoner to awaken. His ankles and wrists bound, Jed was perched in a chair, his head to one side and his eyes closed. Jeff was sipping coffee, and Ginger was fiddling with the nanotransmitter she had found with Jed. Both of them were thinking of the startling turn of events that had come to pass in the last hour.
Ginger broke the silence. "I think Allura's really brave. I'd be terrified out of my wits."
Jeff nodded. "The one I feel bad for is Keith. That had to be the hardest thing he's ever done. Did you see his face when he came back in?"
Ginger nodded sadly. "He must love her very much." She succeeded in opening the transmitter. "Wow," she breathed. "Cyann was right; there must be millions and millions of nanochips in here." She upturned the small machine and shook it slightly, causing some of the finest dust she'd ever seen to gently escape. "Each of those dust particles is a chip. It's amazing."
"It scares me to think that Doom has gotten ahold of things like that," Jeff said ominously. "Imagine what else they may have stumbled upon."
"No kidding. Gosh, I never thought things could go so wrong so quickly. You'd almost think--hey, look!"
Ginger motioned eagerly to their prisoner. Jed's eyelids were fluttering, he took a few deep, slow breaths.
Jeff set down his coffee cup and pulled his chair next to Jed's. Ginger
followed suit.
Jed's head moved from side to side. Suddenly, his eyes snapped fully
open. He quickly took stock of his surroundings, shooting nasty looks to his
captors.
Jeff tensed imperceptively, expecting Jed to attempt escape. But the
prisoner made no movement. Jed's manacled hands and feet twitched, but he made no attempt to struggle out of his bonds.
"There's no escape," Jeff confirmed. "So you might as well spill it. Who are you?"
Jed fixed them with a steely stare. "My name is Jedrel."
"Where did you come from?"
Jed scowled. "What the hell do you care?"
"Watch it," warned Jeff. "Are you working for Planet Doom?"
Jed widened his eyes in overdone innocence. "How is that possible? The planet was destroyed."
"But its prince still lives," said Ginger, as if they could have forgotten. "Are you working for him?"
"I should think that would be obvious," Jed replied contemptuously. "Is this going anywhere? I have better ways of wasting my time."
"You're not going anywhere until you tell us what you where doing here, besides spying for Prince Lotor," snapped Jeff. "You might as well comply. I'm a patient man."
"As am I." Jed was maddeningly calm.
"The sooner you tell us your mission," Ginger put in, "the sooner you will be released."
Jeff shifted in his seat. "Let's try this again. What are you doing here?"
"We have already established that I was spying. Really, I would think a man of your rank would have a much sharper brain."
Jeff dismissed the uneasy thought. There were more important things to think about now. "Why were you spying?"
Jed shrugged. "Lotor needed somebody to infiltrate the Castle, and he was willing to pay handsomely."
"But why?"
Jed refused to answer the question. Jeff regarded him for a moment, then indicated that it was Ginger's turn to interrogate.
"So you were just here to observe?" she confirmed.
"Yes."
"Why did you agree to do this?"
Jed's answer sent a chill up their spines. "Why not?"
Ginger and Jeff exchanged a look. "Look," Ginger began, "if Planet Doom was destroyed, then where is Lotor operating from?"
"On one of the moons of Planet Doom." Jed apparently had no qualms divulging his employer's secrets.
"On a moon?" Ginger repeated.
"Some moons can be very large," Jeff answered, "sometimes large enough to form a breathable atmosphere." He looked at Jed. "Is that how it is?"
"More or less," Jed replied nonchalantly.
Jeff leaned forward. "What about Castle Doom? Did King
Zarkon survive?"
"Most don't think so," answered Jed, as if he couldn't care less.
"What about Cossak?"
A shrug.
"How much of an army does Lotor have?"
"I wouldn't know."
"Don't play games with me."
"I told you I don't know." Jed raised his voice ever so slightly, indicating his annoyance. "That was none of my concern." His lip curled into a smirk. "I do know that he has the remains of a fleet."
"No kidding," Ginger said dryly.
"Okay, let me see if I've got everything straight," Jeff recounted. "Lotor is alive and well on one of Planet Doom's moons, and he offered you a sum of money to infiltrate the Castle and spy for him."
"You have a dizzying intellect, captain."
Jeff wondered, something clicking in his brain. "Then what's with this sudden attack? Was this part of the plan?"
That hit a nerve. Jed's ice-blue eyes grew even colder. "No, it wasn't part of the plan."
"What was the plan?"
"You truly are dense," Jed sneered. "Do you honestly think that Lotor didn't know about the Conference?"
"He knew? How?" Ginger asked, then started as Jeff touched her arm and made a discreet head motion. Ginger understood and tried another question.
"What was in it for you?"
"The usual: money, fame, power."
"That's it?"
"What else is there?"
Ginger saw Jeff's jaw tighten indignantly. "You said that this sudden attack was not part of the plan. Why did it happen?"
"I honestly don't know," Jed replied. "I was as surprised as you were."
"Are you telling the truth?" Ginger asked skeptically.
Jed shrugged indifferently. "You be the judge. I don't care what you
think."
"Do you have any idea what set Lotor off?" Jeff asked.
Jed shrugged again. "Lotor does not discuss his plans with me. I daresay it was an impulse."
"Well, that was one hell of an impulse," Jeff barked with unconcealed
cynicism. "Is Lotor really that unstable?"
"He'll do anything to get what he wants."
Jeff's personal communit crackled to life, startling everyone. "Jeff," came Keith's voice. "We're taking off in fifteen minutes."
"Copy that. Good luck." Jeff looked pensive as he switched off the
comm.
"What is it?" inquired Ginger softly.
"I've just got a funny feeling, that's all. If Lance is right . . ."
"Keith could be in danger," Ginger finished, frightened.
"Your friend is right."
Jeff and Ginger turned sharply to Jed, surprised by this outburst. "Explain yourself," Jeff ordered brusquely.
"Your friend Keith is in danger."
"How do you know?" Ginger's voice was taut with fear.
Jed's rolled his eyes in contempt. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Not to me," Jeff said sharply.
"You're both idiots. Keith's got what Lotor wants!"
"Princess Allura!" Ginger exclaimed. "All of this is about her?"
"Well," Jed replied snidely, "the fact that Lotor's got his ass kicked by Keith more than once figures into the equation. Whatever the reason, Prince Lotor wants Keith dead." Jed seemed to enjoy his captors' shock.
Jeff jumped up. "I can't let him go! I've got to stop them from going!" He flicked on his comm again. "Koran, has the Voltron Force left yet?"
"No," Koran's voice came back. "Why?"
"Don't let them leave!" Jeff commanded. "Send a few guards to escort Jed to a cell. He's still got a lot of explaining to do." Turning the comm off again, he faced Ginger. "Don't let him get away. I'll see you later!" He hurried out of the room.

The Voltron Force was grim as they watched the computer screens, ticking away the minutes remaining before they could rescue their princess.
"Four taryns," Cyann reported dully, her brow creased. "Three more. Another few minutes, guys."
"These are going to be the longest minutes in history," Pidge whispered to Hunk.
Everyone jumped when Jeff burst in, out of breath and speaking in short bursts. "You can't go!"
"Jeff, what's wrong?" Cyann asked.
Jeff took two more deep gulps of air. "Lotor, he's after--he wants you
dead, Keith!"
A hiss of indrawn breath. Keith remained still as a statue, apparently unconcerned with this news. "I know that," he said, deadly calm. "But I have to go."
"You can't!" cried Jeff, stepping forward to plead with his frozen friend. "I talked to Jed. Lotor's obsessed with revenge against you, because of Princess Allura. He's insane! That attack on the village was an impulse! An impulse, Keith! He killed those people for no reason other than his own mad jealousy."
Keith did not reply. "How much longer, Cyann?"
"Less than a minute," she replied absently, as stunned as the rest of them.
Frustrated, Jeff tried another tactic. "Keith, as your commanding officer, I have to order you to remain at the Castle of Lions!"
Startled, Keith turned to stare at him. Almost immediately he looked away, his jaw tightening. "Don't do this, Jeff."
"I have to," the other man replied stubbornly. "I can't allow you to endanger yourself."
"And I can't allow Allura to remain prisoner on that monster's ship!"
"But it could be a trap!"
"That's a chance I'll have to take. I can't--I won't let him touch her!"
His eyes widening, Jeff stared at Keith as if he'd never seen him before. "It's not just Lotor, is it? This damned rivalry. It's both of you."
"Time!" announced Cyann. "They've left the atmosphere."
"Let's go," said Keith firmly, turning away from Jeff. "Sven, Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Cyann, come with me."
Startled, Cyann turned away from the control panel. "Why me?"
"We'll need someone to fly the blue lion," Keith called, halfway to the door.
"Captain," Jeff threatened, his forehead creased and glistening with sweat and desperation, "if you leave this room I will relieve you of your command--"
"To hell with my command!" Keith flared, spinning around. "Take it! It
doesn't mean anything to me--her safety is more important than any stupid command! Go ahead and court-martial me, I don't care. But know that nothing in this universe can prevent me from going to her now, not even you."
In the charged silence, no one could move as Keith and Jeff stared eye to eye. Then Keith turned away for the last time. "Let's go," he repeated stiffly.
Jeff stood numb and still, watching Keith and the rest of the Voltron Force exit the control room, and realized that he was struggling against the tide. The cards had been dealt. There was nothing left to do but play.

"Keith," Cyann protested, jogging to keep up with his brisk pace, "why do you need me? Aren't you going to fly the black lion?"
"No. I'll take my Alpha-F."
"Your--why? You want to get to Lotor's ship as quickly as possible, don't you? The lions are faster."
"It's no longer my place," Keith replied, without looking at her. "That's
Sven's job now."
"I don't mind," said Sven. "Take it. I can fly the blue lion."
"No," Keith shook his head. "You guys are a team; I don't want to upset that."
"Oh, give me a break," Lance chimed in. "We were a team when you led us too, Keith."
"Take the black lion, Keith," Cyann urged. "Then you guys'll be a team again. I can stay here and hold down the fort."
"Come on, Keith!" Hunk pleaded. "It'll be like old times!"
"I should ask Space Marshal Aldran for permission," Keith said uneasily.
"Screw Aldran," Cyann replied bitterly. "You know he couldn't care less about this force."
"We know nothing," Sven promised, when Keith still did not look
convinced. "And, besides, Keith, if there's one thing I've learned in combat, it's that sometimes you can't do everything by the book."
"Amen," added Lance.
Keith's hard expression had softened somewhat. He stopped momentarily to look at his friends, uncertainty in his eyes.
"Come on, Keith," Lance cajoled knowingly. "You know you want to."
Keith looked at Sven. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
Sven couldn't help a faint smile. "I promise. Will you take charge--again?"
The question hung in the air. Then Keith finally said, "All right."
"Yes!" shouted Pidge.
"But remember," Keith added warningly, "if word of this gets out--"
"Word of what?" Cyann interrupted, spreading her hands in innocence.
Keith displayed the ghost of a smile. "Okay, let's go," he murmured.
"Aw, come on, Keith," complained Hunk. "Do it right."
The ghost smile widened, but it never reached Keith's eyes. "To the
lions!" he amended.

It felt like a dream, to go through motions he hadn't performed in two
years. When he arrived in the black lion, Keith took a moment to run his fingers over the controls, awed by the warm familiarity he felt--like coming home.
But Keith's reverie lasted only a moment. His attention immediately
focused on the task at hand--and a hard one at that. The Voltron Force had
rescued Allura from peril many a time, but this time was different--Keith could feel it. This time it was more than a battle; it was a showdown. This time, Lotor meant business. This time there wouldn't be a stalemate.

TO BE CONTINUED...