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.

4. The Reckoning

DISCLAIMER: VOLTRON AND ITS CHARACTERS ARE THE PROPERTY OF WORLD EVENTS PRODUCTIONS, INC. ALL RIGHT RESERVED. I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS (EXCEPT FOR CYANN, ALDRAN AND JED), AND I AM NOT RECEIVING ANY PROFIT FOR WRITING THIS STORY.

SMALL ETERNITIES

By Cyanne, a.k.a. Saturn Girl

Part Four: The Reckoning

            Lotor cursed himself over and over for choosing to pilot the ship alone. At the time, he hadn't wanted any of his remaining Doom servants around to interrupt his time with the Princess, but now he would have welcomed the company of even the compulsively twitching Kavor to the dark, unsympathetic silence of the empty ship. His legs shuddering against his will, Lotor slowly heaved himself up, bracing his good arm against the wall and willing his foggy vision to clear. Pain was beneath him, he told himself. Any respectable Doom prince learned to endure pain with a stoneface at a very young age; it was a trademark of strength to remain composed even under the worst torture. But it was times like this that made him curse his half-human heritage. His father, Zarkon, would have had a good laugh over these simple wounds, but Lotor's body was genetically more frail, and he was forced to crouch on his hands and knees, unable to rise. Lotor felt his dry lips twist into a smirk. Even Zarkon's hardy 200-hundred-year-old body had proved frail in the near-instantaneous annihilation of Planet Doom; even Haggar's magic was useless in the face of such destruction. The irony might have been satisfying if it had not come at such a high price . . .

            Lotor groaned and heaved himself further up the grimy wall. The wound in the small of his back had stopped bleeding, leaving only a dull, sickening numbness, but the sizzling burn on his shoulder throbbed in time with his exhausted pulse. Yet still, he found the strength to rise to his full height and felt a rush of satisfaction at the triumph of his Doomnian physiology. The wounds that he had sustained in the past few hours would have killed a mere human, but, aside from the pain, the only unendurable emotion that plagued him was the rage at his humiliation.

            Damn them, the cowards! Shooting and then turning their tails before I hit the ground. . . .as if I were no more than an animal. That damned Keith hadn't even bothered to respond to Lotor's challenge. He had offered Keith an honorable invitation, a duel between men, and Keith had simply seized his beloved princess and taken off. It was a broad-faced insult, a mockery of the unspoken warrior code to which Lotor knew they both held, and it made him furious. The prince felt his hands clutch into fists as the rage began to boil inside him.

            Suddenly everything swayed violently to the left, the ground seem to sink beneath him. Lotor's hand shot out to the wall to brace himself against the crushing nausea that rolled over him like a tidal wave. For a brief second, he thought he would die right then, it was too hard, he was half dead anyway, in no condition to take on his enemies again . . .

            No. I cannot--I will not give up! It cannot end now, I will not allow it to end like this . . .  With much effort, Lotor willed the pain to dispell, to become a thing of the past--the past no longer mattered, all the anguish and pain must be forgotten. The present was too important. There was still something left to do.

            He had learned a hard lesson in this past week. There was no defeating Keith by any direct means. The man had luck, and skills even beyond his own--and companions who would protect him at the cost of their own lives. That was why he had failed; he had not realized that to get to Keith, he had to go through the entire Voltron Force.

            It was so simple yet satisfying that he couldn't fathom why it hadn't occurred to him before. Ever since he first been defeated by Keith, Lotor had begun searching for a way to crack that armor, get through the man's defenses and revenge his humiliation. At first he'd though that killing Keith would be the easiest solution, but he'd learned that was not so easily accomplished. So he'd had to be more subtle. When he'd learned of the Voltron captain's feelings for the lovely Princess, he believed he'd had his ace in the hole. Of course, he already desired the woman, who was lovely beyond belief; it was simply a bonus that by claiming her for his own, he could anger and humiliate Keith as well. But again, he was thwarted. Allura was not so easily claimed, and Keith's prowess where she was concerned was even more formidable. Even when Keith was sent away from Arus, recalled in disgrace by the cooperative General Aldran (in exchange for the Doom Empire staying well out of the Alliance's core of planets), he hadn't been defeated or humiliated, and neither had Allura and the Voltron Force. Ironically they'd fought even harder once Keith was gone, as if they knew he was counting on their weakness without their leader.

            He'd been going about it entirely wrong.

            He did not need to kill Keith. He needed to kill everyone else.

~Arus~

            "Hey Jeff, wait up!" Ginger called, flagging him down as he passed her in the hallway. "Guess what I've got!"

            Jeff's dark eyes flicked to her only briefly. "Oh, hi Ginger," he said absently.

            Ginger's excitement dampened slightly at his melancholy expression. "Well, don't get excited or anything," she retorted. "Where have you been for the past hour and a half?"

            "In the control room with Koran, why?"

            "I was looking for you."

            "Oh?" His listless tone indicated that he was still millions of miles away.

            Ginger frowned. "What's with you, anyway?" Jeff had been uncharacteristically quiet since Cyann had confessed her duplicity and warned them of Aldran's impending coup. For someone whose suspicions had just been proved right, Jeff didn't seem very triumphant--though she could hardly expect him to shout 'hooray' at guessing that one of their friends was a traitor.

            "By the way, I'm sorry I didn't believe you," she offered, hoping to bring him out of his funk.

            Jeff's frown deepened. "I didn't want to believe me," he said morosely. "I almost wish I'd kept my damn suspicions to myself."

            "You mean we'd have been better off not knowing?" Ginger was incredulous.

            "No, it's just . . .we're on our way to hell in a handbasket, Ginger! What difference does it make whether we know it or not?"

            "The difference is that we can do something about it!

            "What the hell can we do? Prince Lotor is--in addtion to being completely insane--bent on killing Keith, one member of this castle is a spy, one of our friends is a traitor, and back home on Earth, those new reforms are about to have Galaxy Garrison cornered." He ticked each item off with a finger, then curled them into a fist.

            "Aldran's got us surrounded, Ginger. He's been laying the groundwork of a giant power play for three years. Things are a helluva lot worse than even I imagined. Aldran's got us right where he wants us. We're trapped."

            "I can't believe you're talking this way," Ginger retaliated hotly. "You've always told me that when you're backed into a corner, the only thing you can do is fight. Well, I agree that we're cornered, so we've got to fight!"

            "But we can't take on Prince Lotor and Aldran at the same time! We can't be in two places at once!"

            "Oh, yes we can!" Ginger removed a piece of paper from her pocket. "Know what this is? It's a written and signed statement from Cyann proving Aldran's conspiracy. I asked her after the guards took her away. She was all in favor of it. All we have to do is get this back to Galaxy Garrison in time for the quarterly Board meeting tomorrow morning. Aldran may have been able to finesse the Board of Control into overlooking his questionable methods, but what will he do in the face of some hard evidence?"

            Jeff's eyes brightened. "Ginger, I'm impressed. If you can get someone of comparable rank to notorize that--say, the Princess of Planet Arus--I'll get in touch with Hawkins. With Cyann's deposition and the Voltron Force behind us, we'll force Aldran to step down. That'll take care of Earth, at least . . ."

            "We can't think about Arus now, Jeff," Ginger said, her voice shaky but determined.. "We've got to do our part, and trust Keith and the others to do theirs."

            The control room was silent but for the incessant chirping of the central computer, as it attempted to prepare the Castle for doomsday. Koran watched the myriad of screens with exhausted, bleary eyes. He wasn't sure if it was fatigue, worry, shock, or a combination of all three, but he felt inexplicably light-headed, and it required considerable effort to focus on the data displayed before him, to focus on the dire turn their lives had taken in the space of a few hours. And to think, I was worried that I wouldn't recall enough Garrison protocol to preside over the Voltron Conference!

            But there was no Conference, Koran reminded himself. Everything had changed. Captain Cyann Miller had been found guilty of double agency and heaven knew what else. The servant Jed was a spy for both Aldran and Prince Lotor. Everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours--indeed, the past two years--had been an elaborate facade constructed by Space Marshal Aldran to cover a nefarious agenda of galactic proportions. Koran sighed, feeling a subtle throb commence in his temple. Noble King Alfor, I thank the Maker that you aren't alive to see this . . .

            The comm unit suddenly sprang to life. "Yellow Lion to Castle Control. Koran, can ya hear me?"

            Koran started out of his reverie and fumbled with a few keys. "Yes, Hunk, I hear you. Have you anything to report?"

            "I wish I did, Koran," Hunk replied, his tone slightly blurred by static caused by the distance. "There's nothin' up here but us 'n' the stars. No fleet. We found Lotor, but he's just sitting there. Not a peep from the long-range scanners, either. It's quiet, way too quiet up here."

            "The calm before the storm," supplied Pidge from the Green Lion.

            Koran sighed. "You might as well come back, then. There's no use waiting around up there. Lotor will make his move when he chooses to."

            "Well, I wish he'd choose to make it sometime this century," grumbled Hunk. "I can't take all this suspense."

            "That just might be Lotor's idea," Pidge retorted grimly. "We'll be down in a few minutes, Koran. Green Lion out."

            Koran switched off the comm and leaned on the console with another heavy sigh. Hunk wasn't the only one being worn down by this terrible waiting; his own nerves were becoming frayed with the strain of maintaining his outward calm, a habit he'd adopted long ago for the benefit of a young princess who was then just becaming aware of the threat that hung over her father's kingdom.

            At the thought of Princess Allura, Koran felt his jaw tighten. What kind of gods would allow so much misfortune to befall as kind and earnest a child--no, woman--as Princess Allura? Almost from the time of her father's death she had been plagued by power-mad warloads intent upon her throne--and in many cases, upon herself. Though it had been many years since Koran had served as a soldier in the Royal Guard, just thinking of the perils that the Princess had endured in her twenty-two summers--and in the past twenty-four hours--was enough to make his long-dormant blood simmer with rage. Sometimes he wondered if it would have been better if she hadn't survived the attack that killed her entire court, including her own father. . .

            It began as a barely perceptible ache in his chest, then an answering throb in his left arm. Koran was just beginning to wonder what was wrong when, like wildfire, a red-hot flame swept through his entire body, clouding his eyes before he could even gasp at its magnitude. A dull roaring filled his ears and his hands clenched and unclenched in furious spasms as a blanket of night began to steal over him. A moment before the darkness enveloped him, his trembling lips formed a single, broken phrase: Allura, I'm sorry . . .

            Five minutes later, the automatic door swooshed open. "Koran!" Jeff cried.

            "I am such an idiot!" Lance shouted to no one in particular.

            The empty room maintained an insolent silence. Insulted, Lance tried taking his aggression out on the nearest wall, causing pain which only fueled his anger. He muttered a curse or two under his breath, and, cradling his sore fist in his other hand, began to pace up and down the length of his small room. The whole damn world's gone crazy, he thought, still reeling from the startling confession Cyann had delivered an hour ago, an explanation that had turned his world upside down. Even more disturbing was the fact that his own senses had apparently failed him; he, who'd always been able to spot a phony on sight, had been blind to the fact that his own ex-girlfriend--no, he would not even call her that anymore. She didn't deserve that much.

            It made him even angrier to think he'd let all the clues slip by, starting with Cyann's fib about working as a navigator. He'd known she lied, but he'd dismissed the incident, trusting in the knowledge that Cyann must have had a good reason. Oh, she had a good reason all right, a persistent little voice inside his head reminded him bitterly, a good and selfish reason!

            "I am such a goddamned idiot!" Lance shouted again, listening to the words bounce off the walls.

            Almost immediately, there came a knock at his door. Tensing, Lance called irritably, "What?"

            "Lance, it's me," called Keith's infuriatingly calm voice.

            Lance was in no mood to hear the situation rationalized. "Go away. Hey," he objected, when Keith pushed open the door anyway, "what gives? Can't a guy get a little privacy?"

            "Not when he's intent on disturbing everyone else's by pounding the walls," Keith shot back, folding his arms. "Why don't you calm down?"

            "Calm down?" Lance repeated, raising his eyebrows angrily. "How can you expect me to calm down at a time like this?!"

            "Calm down, Lance," Keith reiterated firmly. "Anger won't get you anything but sore fists."

            Lance flushed slightly.  Then he sighed, making an effort to curb his anger. Changing tactics, he said, in a more subdued tone, "I just can't believe it, Keith. How could she do it? How could she betray me--" he corrected himself, "betray us like that, after all we've been through?"

            "I wish I knew, Lance.  I'm as disappointed in her as you are. Cyann was a valuable ally."

            "She was more than that," Lance replied absently, staring at the floor. "Dammit, Keith, I didn't even see it coming. Of all the times for my own feelings to fail me--"

            Keith shook his head. "It's not your fault, Lance. None of us saw it coming."

            Lance looked up sharply. "Not even you?" His gaze was keen, and, as he had expected, he saw Keith's eyes dart away almost immediately.

            "Do you mean to tell me," Lance continued quietly, "that in the past two years, you never once picked up on anything that might have foreshadowed something like this? I have hard time believing that, Keith."

            Keith sighed. "I'll admit to noticing a few fishy details, but I didn't like the possibility any more than you do. I never dug deeply." His expression was solemn but compassionate. "She was my friend, too, you know."

            Lance looked away. "You could have said something," he insisted gruffly, "something to put us on our guard."

            "But would you have listened?" Keith countered. "I learned a long time ago how difficult it is to tell you something you don't want to hear."

            Lance turned to meet Keith's shrewd gaze, then lowered his eyes, knowing he was beaten.  "So it comes back to me," he said sadly, massaging his aching fist. "Boy, did I learn my lesson. Never trust a woman with ambition." He gave a bitter laugh, which died abruptly when he noticed that Keith wasn't smiling.

            "We all trusted her, Lance. If you're guilty of being gullible, then so are we all. Cyann covered her tracks well, but don't forget that she betrayed herself in order to warn us about Aldran's plans. If she hadn't said anything, we'd still be in the dark. In an odd way, she's helped us."

            Leave it to Keith to find the silver lining, Lance thought dryly. He shook his head vehemently. "I don't buy it, Keith. For all we know, that whole story could have been another one of her lies."

            "But Jeff and Ginger backed her up on it," Keith reminded him. "And don't forget, I was around Galaxy Garrison when this was going on as well. Cyann's story made a lot of things fall into place."

            "Then why the hell did she wait until now to spill her guts? If she'd opened her mouth a few days ago, or for that matter a few years ago, we wouldn't be in this mess. I can't trust her anymore, Keith. Something like this you just don't forget."

            He thought he saw anger spark in Keith's eyes. "You can punish her all you want, Lance," he said tightly, "but remember that you won't be alone. She'll pay dearly for this. The Board of Control won't care that she repented at the last moment; only that she sided with Aldran in the first place. And even she manages to escape exile or imprisonment, she'll still lose all credibility in the eyes of the Galaxy Alliance. Can you blame her for waiting until until the last possible moment to crucify herself?"

            "She should have thought of the risks before she started working for Aldran," Lance replied coldly. "It's no use, Keith. No matter what she means to any of us, that doesn't change the fact that she betrayed us, and the Galaxy Alliance. Cyann deserves whatever she gets."

            Lightning-quick, Keith's fist connected with his jaw. He moved so fast Lance never saw it coming. He reeled, coughed, staggered back, more from surprise than from the force of the blow. "What the hell was that for?" he sputtered angrily when he had caught his breath. Sudden violence was not Keith's usual style.

            "That was to make you realize how selfishly you're behaving," Keith spat between clenched teeth, flexing his hand. "Do you love her, Lance?"

            Lance stared at him. "What?"

            "Do you love Cyann? Because if you do, I suggest you get your head on straight and start thinking of something besides your wounded pride for once. She needs you now."

            Lance scowled, giving his best 'don't mess with me' glare. "And who the hell are you to tell me what to do? It's none of your damn business how I feel about Cyann! How dare you lecture me on behaving selfishly, after what you did!"

            Keith's expression became guarded. "After I did what?" he repeated coldly.

            "After you abandoned Allura!"

            For a moment, neither of them spoke. Keith looked stunned, at a loss for words. Then he collected himself.

            "You don't understand, Lance."

            "The bloody hell I don't!" Lance narrowed his eyes into slits and allowed his latent fury to burst forth. "I was here! I saw how upset she was! Do you know that she stayed in her room for two whole days, crying her eyes out, eating hardly anything? And when she came out, we hardly recognized her? She loved you, goddammit, and you repaid that honor by leaving her! You don't deserve her--!" During this tirade his hands had become fists, and now he threw one of them back at Keith.

            Keith caught the fist in a grip of iron, his jaw set tightly. "You're upset, Lance, you don't know what you're saying," he said in a stiff, controlled tone that still trembled with anger. "Why don't you take a walk and try to cool off?"

            Lance wrenched himself out of Keith's grip. "I know exactly what I'm saying, Keith, and I meant what I said: you don't deserve Allura's love. I think it would have been better, for all of us," he paused, glaring at Keith with unconcealed ire, "if you'd left Arus for good."

            Lance started to turn, but not before he saw the pain flash in Keith's eyes. Squelching a stab of guilt, he whirled around--

            And saw the Princess standing in the doorway.

            Under Jeff's orders, Cyann was taken to the castle detention facility immediately following her testimony. Jed looked up at her entrance and afforded her a patronizing grin. "Come for another visit? I'm honored." He pretended to just notice the guards. "And you've brought guests!"

            Cyann ignored him, mutely allowing the guards to escort her into the cell, a pale shadow of the spitfire she had been. Normally she would have fought tooth and nail, incensed at the mere thought of being treated like a criminal; instead she was meek and indifferent. Her shoulders, once held so proudly, were slumped in uncharacteristic submissiveness. She seemed oblivious and uncaring, accepting her imprisonment with dull resignation.

            As soon as the door slammed shut behind the castle guards, Jed turned to Cyann again. "I see you finally got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Don't act so glum; they were bound to find out about you sooner or later. Did you actually think you could double-cross Aldran behind his back--without his knowledge? Or mine?" When she made no reply, he chuckled. "Aldran's not stupid, you know. He always said your one flaw was that streak of nostalgia."

            "Still," Jed went on, challenging her proud silence, "I admire your audacity--or maybe I should say arrogance. It was a gutsy move, I'll give you that, but tell me, Cyann, what would you have done if your plan had succeeded? Toppled the evil tyrant from his bureaucratic throne? Been hailed as an intergalactic hero?  Restored peace to the universe?" Jed laughed as he leaned forward, lowering his voice to an acidic, mocking whisper. "Taken your rightful place on the Voltron Force?"

            Cyann flinched, and Jed smirked, shaking his head. "I know you, Cyann-honey, even better than Aldran does. You're no team player; you're a solo act. You loved being captain-supreme, but you were less than thrilled with being Aldran's number two. That's why you had to strike out on your own. Who wants a piece of someone else's cake, however big?"

            Still no reply. Jed leaned against the cell wall with feigned nonchalance, making a reflective clucking noise. "And you gave it all up to make a play for an old Academy sweetheart--quite a romantic gesture, I must say. Too bad Loverboy didn't go for it."

            Cyann slapped Jed's grinning cheek, the impact echoing in the quiet cell.  Jed started laughing again when he saw the old fire blazing in Cyann's blue eyes.

            "If you know what's good for you, Jedrel," Cyann growled, "you'll shut your arrogant trap right this minute, before I shut it for you."

            "Now that's the Cyann Miller I remember!" Jed's gaze crackled with approval. "Those flushed cheeks, those burning eyes . . . I must confess you had me worried for a while. I was convinced you'd gone soft for that pilot of yours--then again, you always were an exceptional actress--"

            "Shut up!" Cyann sprang up, fists clenched, cheeks scarlet, and flung herself at him, an animalistic snarl erupting from her throat. "Bastard! I'll kill you right here!"

            Jed caught her right fist as she swung it at him, then her left. Holding her prisoner in an unexpectedly strong grip, his amused expression melted into one of deadly seriousness. "I want to help you, Cyann," he said quietly. "If you stop fighting me, we can get out of this together. Aldran will forgive you, you'll have your power back. All you have to do is detonate that bomb."

            She froze, shock overpowering anger. "How do you know about that?"

            "Aldran told me, of course. He had doubts as to whether or not you'd have the guts to actually do it, so he gave me the detonation code in case you cracked. One of us is going to detonate that bomb, Cyann. Which of us will it be?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Think about it, Cyann. You can start over again, get your job back, get back that life you loved, if you just turn your back on that insipid ex-boyfriend of yours."

            "Why, you--!"

            He pulled her closer. "He deserves it, Cyann. They all do. They're fools, every one of them, holding on to a world that's left them behind. Not like you. You're a practical woman. Why chase after something you'll never get? There's nothing to be gained by joining the Voltron Force. What can they do for you? They don't give a damn about you. You betrayed them; you've shattered their trust forever. What's the use of beating your head against the wall?" Jed's breath was hot against her face. "Do it, Cyann," he whispered. "Take the plunge. What have you got to lose?"

            The Princess of Arus stood before them, fists clenched, her cerulean eyes wide with surprise and hurt. Her mouth was set in a tight, angry line; her posture was strained stiff. It was obvious that she'd heard every word.

            Speechless with surprise, Lance began to stammer. "Al--Allura, I--"

            "Princess--" Keith said at the same time.

            "Shut up," she whispered savagely, her lips trembling. "Shut up, both of you. I've heard enough. How--at a time like this--how dare you fight over something so--so stupid!"

            "Allura, it's not what you think--" Lance began.

            "Then what is it, Lance?" Allura turned her gaze on him, and Lance seemed to quail at the fury in her eyes.

            "Allura--" Keith tried again, his own tone rough.

            She ignored him. She fixed her gaze on Lance, betrayal shining in her blue eyes. "How could you say those things?"

            Lance's brow furrowed, defiant.  "It's the truth."

            "What do you know?" she countered. "You don't know everything, Lance!"

            "Dammit, Allura, I just don't want to see you get hurt!"

            "That's none of your business," she replied curtly. "It never has been. You are not my protector; I can take care of myself." She took a step forward.  "I don't ever want to hear you say those things to Keith again."

            "Allura!"

            "Never again!" the Princess cried. "That's a royal order!"

            Lance's eyes widened momentarily in utter shock, then quickly crinkled in anger. "Fine," he replied in a tone as dry and dead as a desert. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stalked down the hall, shoulders hunched.

            Swallowing hard, the Princess turned her blue gaze on Keith.

            "Princess," Keith began again, quietly. "I--"

            "Don't," said Allura. She had lowered her eyes. "You don't need to explain anything. Lance was angry, and he was taking it out on you."

            "Maybe he was right."

            Allura looked up at him again. "I don't want to believe that." In her eyes, anger, fear, confusion, and hurt were interwoven in a kaleidescope of emotion. She looked like a stranger, not the princess he'd loved and cherished for so long. He suddenly knew what Lance had meant about hardly recognizing her.

            A beep from Keith's wrist comm shattered the awful moment. Automatically, Keith's mind switched gears. "Keith here."

            "Koran's unconcious," Jeff's voice came back, sounding small and worried from the tiny comm unit. "I found him in the control room. It looked like he'd collapsed."

            Allura gave a tiny, sharp gasp.

            "Did you call Dr. Gorma?" Keith asked grimly.

            "First thing. We're at the med facility. I think you'd better get here fast, though."

            "On my way." Keith flicked off the comm, venturing a gaze at the Princess, whose eyes reflected his apology. Then they both began to run toward Dr. Gorma's office.

             "Think about it, Cyann," Jed purred. "What have you got to lose?"

            Abruptly, Cyann's eyes shimmered with tears, forcing her to look away from his intense gaze. Aware that she was wavering, Jed seized the opportunity and leaned forward to press his lips against hers. She resisted at first, but his grip only tightened. He felt her tense, then pain exploded in his lower abdomen as her knee connected with the soft flesh. With a grunt, he released her.

            Cyann raked a hand defiantly across her lips as if to rub off the taint of his kiss. "Is this your idea of persuasion?"

            "Of course not," Jed replied, between gasps that were half pain and half mirth. "That was for old times' sake." He chortled at her stunned expression. "Don't flatter yourself, Cyann. I have no interest in renewing our relationship, especially since it would serve me no gain."

            "Now that's the Jed I remember," Cyann replied harshly. "For a moment there I thought you'd grown a heart."

            An odd emotion flickered in Jed's black eyes. "I have no need of such a handicap," he retorted simply. Then he straightened, back to his normal acidic self. "So what'll it be, Cy? Soar with friends you despise, or crash down with friends who despise you?"

            "Aldran is finished," Cyann declared. "Even with you and me behind him. With Voltron in opposition, Aldran's reforms will never go through, no matter how many spies he plants, no matter how many people he bribes. It's over, Jed. However--" a slow smile spread across her face. "I've always had a soft spot for lost causes, once they're completely lost."

            Surprise and pleasure flickered across Jed's face.

            Cyann reached into her boot and removed a small laser. "But unfortunately for you," she went on, her smile darkening, "that's a bad habit I've been meaning to break."

            Jed just shook his head, still grinning, and stood his ground. "Aldran also said you had a very stubborn streak of honor," he mused, meeting her eyes unabashedly over the laser pointed at his chest. "I never thought I'd have the pleasure of seeing it for myself."

            "Well, congratulations, it's the last thing you'll ever see. Goodbye Jed," she cocked the weapon, "and did I mention what a pleasure it was to see you again?" She fired.

            The lock on the cell door behind him exploded in a shower of sparks. Cyann met Jed's eyes for a brief instant, then, lightning-quick, the butt of the weapon connected against his skull with a sickening crack, and Jed slumped to the floor.

            Cyann shoved his body away from the cell door with her foot, and gently pried open the smoking lock. The cell guard was silenced in a similar manner before he could do more than reach for his own weapon. Relieving him of it, Cyann tucked the tiny blaster back into her boot, set the larger laser for stun, and left the detention facility at a dash.

            "Fortunately, the stroke wasn't fatal," Dr. Gorma addressed the hushed, fearful group outside the main operating room. "He's stable, for now, but the next twenty-four hours are going to be crucial. The clot was localized in the right occipital lobe, but we won't know if there's been any permanent damage until he regains consciousness."

            "Can we see him?" Allura asked.

            The doctor nodded. "But just for a minute. He needs his rest."

            Acknowledging Dr. Gorma's order absently, Allura pushed open the door to the operating room. The others followed.

            Koran was stretched out on a cot, his upper torso raised to a semi-sitting position, looking decades older. His skin was pasty, his thick mustache hung limply on his proud upper lip. She noticed for the first time the fine wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, and the lines that spread across his slackened cheeks like gashes. He looked fragile and delicate, not the robust man who'd done his best to keep her in line all her life. Allura had to fight to swallow the huge lump of misery that caught in her throat. What would I do without him?

            "Why...?" Allura did not realize she'd spoken the word aloud until Sven answered her.

            "No one knows why these things happen, Princess," he said quietly, in his softly accented English. "All we can do is endure them."

            "But this wouldn't have happened if Lotor hadn't given Koran so much to worry about," Lance retorted suddenly. "If we'd killed the bastard when we had the chance, none of this would have happened."

            "No, Lance," Allura insisted, blinking away tears. "If Lotor had died, then someone else would have taken his place. Sven is right; these things happen." Her voice broke on the last word, and she felt Keith put his arm around her comfortingly. Leaning into him, Allura let herself go limp, closing her eyes tightly, willing the whole world to go away.

            Abruptly, a klaxon blared, startling everyone. Lance spat out a curse.

            "What now?" Hunk demanded in dismay.

            "Red Alert!" called Sven.

            "Not again!" said Pidge.

            "Let's go," said Jeff.

            Allura felt Keith tense beside her. Pulling away from him, she said, "Go. I'll stay with Koran."

            He looked at her closely. "Are you sure?"

            "Go," she repeated, forcing a small smile. "I'll be okay."

            Ginger paused to give Allura a quick hug. "Everything will be okay, honey," she crooned. "Just remember, your friends are with you all the way." Flashing an encouraging smile, Ginger followed Jeff out of the med facility. Keith hung back, looking at her with concern.

            "I'll be okay, Keith. I've got my comlink on. I--I just don't want to leave him alone."      

            Tenderly, Keith reached out to brush away a stray tear that had gone unnoticed on her cheek. "Koran will be fine, Allura. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. He's a tough old soul."

            "Thank you," she replied sincerely, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.  "Now go be a soldier." And she gave him a gentle shove toward the door.

            "The guard said he had no idea how long he was out," Jeff was saying grimly, when Keith reached the control room. "He estimated thirty to forty minutes, maybe more."

            "Then they've had time to cause trouble," Lance replied darkly. "Our two jailbirds have flown the coop," he explained to Keith quietly.

            "Any idea where they might have gone?" asked Hunk.

            "We don't know that they're together," Sven reminded him.

            "Why wouldn't they be?" growled Lance. "They're partners in crime."

            "Didn't Cyann mention something about a bomb?" Ginger inquired uneasily.

            "They wouldn't--" Pidge began.

            "The hell they wouldn't," finished Lance, reaching for the weapon at his hip. "I'm going after them."

            Sven clamped a hand on his arm before Lance could move. "No, Lance, you're angry. Let Keith and I go. You stay here and hold down the fort until we get back."

            "No, Sven," Lance retorted vehemently. "This is something I need to do. And take your hands off me!" He shook off Sven's hold and fled from the room.

            Keith shook his head in exasperation. Lance could try his patience like nobody else. "Just what we need, another loose cannon. You and I'll stay here, Sven. Hunk and Pidge, you two go after him."

            "Right, chief," said Pidge.

            "He wouldn't do anything rash, would he?" Jeff asked incredulously.

            "You don't know Lance," Hunk shot back grimly. "Let's go, Pidge."

            "Any twitching from His Royal Majesty up there?" Jeff asked, coming up behind Keith once Hunk and Pidge had departed. The former pilot of the Black Lion was engrossed in a steadily beeping radar screen, showing the single blot of Lotor's ship floating motionless in the blackness of space.

            "No," Keith replied pensively. "He's just hovering. I wish we knew what the hell he's waiting for."

            "Well, you could just shoot him down," Jeff suggested half-seriously. "Make it look like an accident, you know?"

            Keith gave Jeff a half-amused look. "Tempting, but I think you know that's not an option."

            "I know, I know. Technically, he hasn't provoked us. But then again, technically, Aldran's not planning a coup, either. But, Ginger and I have a plan that just might solve that little problem."

            "I'm listening."

            Lance sped down the corridor, gun in hand, fingers poised on the trigger, seething with fury. Lying bitch he thought, wrathful beyond reason.  How dare she . . . if she thinks she can get away with something like this after all she's done . . . I'll kill her myself if I have to . . .

            "Lance . . ."

            The voice came from behind him as he reached a junction of corridors. Lance whirled around, brandishing his laser. "Don't move!" he shouted.

            Her blue eyes wide, Cyann stood frozen in her tracks. She held a good-sized laser of her own which she let drop to the floor almost immediately, then raised her hands in surrender. She looked alarmed at his expression. "Lance, it's me," she said softly, tensing. "Don't shoot."

            His aim did not falter. "I said freeze," Lance barked curtly, taking a few steps toward her, and reaching out with a foot to kick her fallen weapon several feet away.

            "Lance," she protested. "I'm on your side. I came to warn you, I think Jed has escaped--"

            "And so have you." Lance's gaze hardened. "What a coincidence."

            Cyann looked confused for a second, then anger lit in her eyes. "Do you actually think I'm in league with that guy?" she demanded, taking another step toward him.

            He cocked his blaster. "Make another move and I'll pull the trigger. I've had it with your lies, Cyann. You may be able to convince Keith that you're on our side, but I'm not that stupid. I'm not letting you do any more harm to this castle."

            "Lance--" she began, then choked off the sentence when his finger approached the trigger. Cyann sighed and took a step back. "Look, I know what you think of me, and I'm not proud of what I've done, but you've got to listen to me now--the safety of the Castle depends on it. There's a bomb--"

            "And you were supposed to detonate it," he interrupted harshly. "I remember."

            "Don't be stupid," she snapped. "Jed knows about it. He's crazy, Lance, but there's a way we can stop him. I know how to disable it, we've just got to get to the bomb before he does."

            "And how do I know that you won't detonate it once we get there, huh? Nice try, Cyann, but I'm not that dumb. You may have fooled me once, but you're the stupid one if you think I'll fall for the same trick twice."

            Cyann's narrowed with fury. "You pig-headed jackass!" she spat. "Do you actually think this is about you? This has got nothing to do with you, or with me, or with anything that was ever between us! This is about keeping Aldran from winning--from destroying the Castle of Lions and everyone in it! If Jed detonates that bomb, you'll be defenseless when Lotor attacks. You won't be able to launch the lions or form Voltron--Aldran's intention all along!"

            Lance stared at her, something in his brain clicking. "Is that what Lotor's waiting for?" he demanded. "The detonation of that bomb?"

            "Of course, you idiot!" Cyann snapped contemptuously. "Lotor knows he doesn't stand a chance against Voltron in a fair fight. He won't make his move until you guys are vulnerable."

            Of course, Lance's mind screamed out the logic of the plan, but his heart and his pride stubbornly resisted. This is the same woman who's been lying to you ever since she set foot in the Castle, he reminded himself sternly. How do you know this isn't another lie?

            Sensing his deliberation, Cyann's anger faded. "All I need is ten minutes," she said quietly, her eyes never leaving his. "Ten minutes and the Castle is safe. After that, lock me up again if you want. Just let me do this one thing--for everyone I've hurt."

            Lance stared hard at her, jaw locked in consternation, then let his arm drop. "Ten minutes, then," he said tightly. "And you walk me through every step. Keith may have sympathy for you, but I don't."

            Cyann gave a bleak smirk. "That makes two of us."

            "Keith was okay with this?" Ginger inquired of Jeff as he handed her her flight helmet. She'd been waiting for him in the hangar bay, bags packed, in full piloting attire. The precious deposition, made official by the royal seal of Arus, was tucked safely away within the folds of her uniform. "He doesn't think we're abandoning him?"

            "He was in favor of it," Jeff replied with grim humor, as they approached their Alpha-Ones. "He said it'd make it a lot easier to concentrate on the Arusian front if he knew someone was taking care of the Earth front. And besides," he grinned at her, "I always fight better on my own territory."

            "Home court advantage," agreed Ginger. Suddenly she looked uneasy. "Can we do this, Jeff? Take on Aldran all by ourselves?"

            "Don't forget, Ginger, we've got Hawkins and the rest of our Voltron Force behind us. But most importantly, we have the truth on our side." He gave her a stern look. "Have you got it hidden in a safe place?"

            Ginger patted the chest of her flight suit. "No one will find it here."

            Jeff sent her a devious smirk. "Not even Cliff?"

            "Very funny." Turning her back on Jeff, Ginger nimbly ascended the thin rope ladder to the cockpit of her Alpha-One. A faint wave of deja vu washed over her as she settled herself into the pilot seat. She found it very hard to believe that, just a few days ago, she'd boarded this very ship at the Calthyn Spaceport, on her way to the Leonian System, and the alleged Voltron Conference. None of us had a clue of what we'd really find on Planet Arus.

            "Hey, Ginger," came Jeff's voice over the two-way comm between their ships, "are you just going sit there, or are you going to kick some bureaucratic butt with me?"

            Ginger couldn't help grinning at his eagerness. Her commander was always in the mood for a good confrontation. "Save the wit for Aldran, Jeff," she replied cheekily. "He's going to need a good laugh when we get through with him."

            ~Earth~

            The small communit on Space Marshal Aldran's belt gave a shrill beep, shattering the silence of the dimly-lit conference room. Automatically, every head on the Board of Control turned in Aldran's direction. Somewhat self-consciously, Aldran reached for the device, intending to answer it, but into doing so he caught the eye of Commander Hawkins. The penetrating gaze of his junior officer caused the usually austere Space Marshal to hesitate. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to take a personal call . . .

            The pager emitted another insistent beep, followed by two shorter pulses, indicating a long-distance message. Aldran tensed, then, smiling ruefully at the uniformed officers sitting around the table in various stages of consternation, he cleared his throat. "Perhaps it's time for a break, gentlemen?"

            "Perhaps it is," said General Kruger, frowning. "You've given us a lot to think about."

            Aldran inclined his head respectfully. "We'll break for ten minutes, then. And," he added, waving a finger, "perhaps we'll have another try at voting, eh?"

            "We'll discuss it, sir," said Commander Hawkins, respectfully but with a hint of contempt, "but don't expect a miracle."

            Aldran sent him an indulgent smile. "I don't believe in miracles, Commander, only in results."

            "Aldran here."

            "The deal is off," rasped a familiar, arrogant voice, resonating with pain.

            "Prince Lotor!" Aldran was taken aback. "What the devil are you talking about? Where are you? We agreed--"

            "I've had enough of your agreements, Aldran," Lotor growled. "Your plans have fallen through. The deal's off."

            "Your Majesty, I beg you to be reasonable," Aldran cajoled. "As soon as I secure this vote, I'll see to it that you get what you deserve."

            Lotor laughed harshly. "Spare me your politicking, Aldran, I'm not one of your Garrison lackeys. I've waited long enough, now I'm taking matters into my own hands."

            "Prince Lotor, wait--" Aldran let out a curse as the connection was broken. This had to happen now, in the final minutes . . . when he was so close . . . "Damn!"

            "Space Marshal?"

            Aldran jerked out of his reverie to see the sentry regarding him solemnly from the doorway. "The Board has reassembled, sir."

            "Yes, thank you, lieutenant." Aldran shoved the unpleasant thoughts out of his mind. None of this would matter in a few minutes, he told himself firmly, as he reentered the conference room to greet the stern faces of the Board of Control. "Well, gentlemen, have we come to a decision?"

            "We have, Space Marshal," said General Kruger, rising from his seat. "We have decided to accept your reforms--"

            Aldran's smile widened. "I'm delighted to hear that, gentlemen--"

            "On one condition," Kruger continued sharply. "If we don't see positive results across the Alliance in six months, these reforms will be nullified and this vote will be stricken from the record."

            Aldran's brow creased. "But six months is hardly enough time to yield results of that magnitude, General--"

            "On the contrary, Marshal," interrupted General Colvin, a balding man of sixty. "Your reforms are quite revolutionary, so it is only natural that we expect to see revolutionary results."

            There was a murmur of assent from the rest of the officers. Knowing he was cornered, Aldran nodded. "Very well, you are being quite fair, gentlemen. I warn you, though, the time limit will necessitate some drastic diplomatic modifications which I had hoped would be more gradual."

            "We're willing to take that chance, Marshal," said Hawkins steadily, his arms folded, "provided that these 'diplomatic modifications' do not necessitate any activity that goes against the code of the Galaxy Alliance."

            Aldran puffed up slightly at the insult. "What I do, I do for the future of the Alliance. You may not approve of my methods, Commander Hawkins, but in six months even you will acknowledge the necessity of these reforms when you see a new, stronger, more united Galaxy Alliance. But rest assured gentlemen," he added, lips curling into a benevolent smile. "Even I would not stoop to comprise the honor of this confederation--even if it would yield the kind of results all of you would like to see. Good afternoon, gentlemen." He rose proudly and exited the room, his sentry obediently following.

            "It was foolhardy to tweak him like that, Hawkins," the olive-skinned General Quillan said, tone resonating with disapproval. "It isn't wise to make an enemy of Aldran."

            "On the contrary, sir, I think it's just the shove he needs to betray his true self," Hawkins answered. "You heard him, he all but admitted to using illegal methods to secure the solidarity of the Alliance. All we need to do is push him a little farther, and we'll have him cornered."

            "This obsession with discrediting the Space Marshal is getting quite out of hand," Kruger said severely. "I don't like the tone of his reforms any more than you do, but the results we've already seen of Aldran's leadership have been very good. There hasn't been a Drule attack on an Alliance planet for more than two years, fifteen planets have joined the Alliance in the last year, and Aldran has sliced our energy defecit in half by cutting down on warp missions. Face it, Hawkins, whether you approve of his methods or not, Aldran has worked wonders for this Alliance since he took command three years ago."

            "At the expense of the morals upon which the alliance was founded," Hawkins retorted. "I have a hard time welcoming results begotten by the exploitation of others."

            "You may believe that, Commander, but as far as Galaxy Garrison--and the rest of us--are concerned, Aldran has done nothing but accomplish a great deal in a short amount of time. And he has quite a few powerful allies. To slander him now could stir up more trouble than we can afford. Therefore I suggest that you keep your opinion to yourself until you can give us concrete proof of a conspiracy."

            "I intend to, sir," Hawkins said firmly. He saluted and left the board room, thinking hard.  Aldran's reforms would bear the official signatures of the members of the Galaxy Garrison Board of Control within the hour, and, if Aldran chose--which he certainly would--the new policies could take effect the very next day. Hawkins hoped that Jeff and Ginger could get back in time with the information that provided proof of Aldran's illicit alliance with the Drule Empire. Meanwhile, he had to gather support, get in touch with the rest of the Voltron Force, before Aldran--

            "Commander Hawkins, may I have a word with you?"

            Hawkins froze mid-stride, recognizing the voice with chagrin. Composing himself, he turned and saluted respectfully. "Yes, Space Marshal, what is it?"

            Aldran gave him an all-too-pleasant smile. "I have new orders for you, Commander. Since my new policies restrict the number of ESA(=Extra-Solar-Assistance) missions, some of our more expensive inter-system squadrons are going to be downsized to save energy and credits."

            "What do you mean, sir?"

            "Galaxy Garrison can no longer afford to support the Voltron robots. Not only will they no longer be necessary under the new reforms, but they are expensive to maintain and a waste of talented pilots." Ignoring Hawkins' gasp of dismay, Aldran continued, complacently. "Galaxy Garrison feels that you and the Voltron pilots would be more useful--and a lot happier--in the Allied Planets Space Force, defending our beloved Planet Earth."

            "You can't mean--!"

            Aldran shoved a folder into Hawkins' stupefied hands. "Here are new assignments for you and the fifteen pilots under your command, which you are to serve immediately. As of midnight tonight, Commander Hawkins, the Voltron Force is disbanded."

--Arus--

            Cyann knew they were too late before they even reached her room. It wasn't so much a premonition as much as simple logic. She'd dallied far too long trying to convince Lance that she was innocent. A lot of good that did, she thought sarcastically. I should have just knocked him out; then maybe I'd have had time to intercept Jed and get that bomb away from him.

            She knew Lance would take it badly. Whatever trust in her that her words had restored in Lance would crumble when he discovered they were on a wild goose chase. He's already on edge, she thought gloomily. This just might push him over. I'd better think fast.

            She didn't have to think long. Cyann and Lance had just turned the corner toward the south wing when the explosion knocked them both to the floor.

            At first, Pidge thought he had imagined the dull rumble that seemed to originate from the bowels of the Castle. But when the ground trembled beneath his feet, plunging the hallway into darkness and causing him to stumble into Hunk, Pidge realized what had happened.

            "What the--" he heard Hunk exclaim. Then, in dismay, he added, "Oh, man, tell me that wasn't what I thought it was."

            "I would if I could," Pidge retorted, feeling around for the wall to recover his bearings. The hallway was lit by a faint red glow, emanating from the small, generator-powered lighting system designed for just such an emergency. Pidge blinked as his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness.

            "Damn, he actually detonated that thing." Hunk was now a discernable silouette. "Now what do we do?"

            "You keep looking for Lance," replied Pidge grimly. "I'm going back to the control room to assess the damage."

            "He'll be a lot harder to find in this dark."

            "The only thing worse than a loose cannon with a gun is a loose cannon with a gun in the dark," was Pidge's reply. "Keep your comlink on, and your eyes peeled. I'll be in touch."

            Allura awoke with a start, her heart in her throat, to feel the floor shaking beneath her feet. The room was completely dark. She felt a brief stab of disorientation, then remembered where she was: in the operating room of the med facility, sitting vigil with the fallen Koran. She fumbled blindly for the comlink in the pocket of her uniform. Finding it, she activated it by touch and spoke into it. "Keith? Lance? It's Allura. Is anyone there?"

            Keith's voice came back, sounding strangely vibrant in the unnatural, total silence. "I hear you, Princess. Are you all right?"

            "I'm fine, but what happened to the lights?"

            There was a slight pause. "Something's happened to the main power system. We've lost all automatic operating systems, including peripheral and manual surveillance and defense. We're running on the bare-bone emergency backup system, which only includes the most basic manual functions and programs."

            "A power outage?"

            "I'm afraid it looks more like sabotage, Princess."

            "Sabotage?" Allura's brain was reeling. "Oh, my god, you mean the bomb Cyann mentioned?"

            "It looks that way. But we can discuss that later," Keith replied. "Right now, I need to know if there are any backup systems for the Castle computers."

            "Yes, of course," Allura attempted to calm her roiling thoughts, "but they require a special access code that only Koran and I--" the words died on her lips. All automatic operating systems, she realized in horror. Including life support.

            Allura's eyes flew to the still figure on the cot, blood rushing loudly in her ears. Forgetting about Keith, she numbly searched for any sign of life in Koran's inert body, hooked up to several machines which, only moments ago, had audibly assured her of his stable condition. Now they were cruelly silent, their screens empty and unfeeling. Allura grasped for Koran's thin wrist, feeling for a pulse, and let her breath out with a whoosh at the faint palpitation of life she felt flowing through his veins. He was alive, but there was no telling how long he would remain that way without the benefit of life support.

            Keith's worried voice via the comlink jolted Allura out of her stupor. "Allura! Princess! Are you there?"

            Taking a deep breath to slow her galloping heartbeat, Allura raised the comlink to her lips. "I'm here, Keith, sorry. I remembered--Koran."

            She heard him suck in his breath. "Is he--?"

            "He's alive, but all the life support systems are dea--I mean, not functioning." An icy-hot shiver shuddered down her spine. Allura swallowed hard, trying to remember what Keith had said about the damage to the control room. "There's no way to boot up the backup operating system with out a specialized access code."

            "Can you tell it to me?"

            "No, for security reasons, it's set up so that only Koran or I can activate it. The initialization process requires fingerprints, plus passwords and user information known only to the Royal House of Arus."

            "How soon can you get here?"

            "Just let me find Dr. Gorma; I can't leave Koran alone, and Dr. Gorma may be able to do something. I'll come to the control room as soon as I can."

            "All right, I'll be here. Keith out."

            The blast had been close, Lance thought dimly, laying on the ground, stunned, his ears ringing from the noise. They must be quite near where it had gone off. He scrambled to his feet, feeling for his blaster, and squinted to see by the weak red emergency lights that ran along the top of the hallway walls. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was turning the corner, they had been heading for Cyann's room--

            Cyann.

            "Damn!" Lance spat, suddenly realizing that he was alone. "Cyann!" he called into the darkness, while knowing it was futile. She'd probably high-tailed it out of there as soon as the lights went out, like the criminal she was. Lance berated himself again for forgetting that she was no longer the woman he knew. In a flash he realized that she had probably been leading him on a wild goose chase, to distract him from what that rat Jed was up to. She'd said the bomb was in her room, in the south wing of the castle, but that blast had come from much closer, probably nearby. Lance punched his wrist-com, bring up a map of the castle, with his coordinates relative to the control room. (The Castle of Lions was huge, and easy to get lost in. Thus, all military personnel in the Castle wore wrist-coms programmed with a map of the Castle, so they could pinpoint their location wherever they were, so others were know where to find them if they were in need of aid).

            Lance was in sector E1-A, near the engineering room. That had to have been where the blast came from. He shuddered to think of what kind of damage could have been done with a blast like that. He thought about reporting back to the others, but then realized it was more important to find Cyann, as he'd set out to do. But I can't find her if I can't see her. Engineering room, huh?

            Lance walked the length of the corridor, keeping his blaster cocked just in case. Sure, enough, there was the door to the Engineering facility. He blasted the lock open and felt around for the emergency kit that should have been on the wall just inside the door. Moments later, he was in possession of a small flashlight, the perfect size for doing minute electronic work inside a dark engine. He flicked it on, and a small circle of light showed him the empty hallway. He walked a few feet down the hallway, shining the light left and right, then noticed that there was a thick cloud of dust--he could see the particles dancing in the beam of the flashlight--emanating from the corridor to the right. That must be near the blast sight. I'd better check it out.

            Lance turned right down the dusty hallway.

            Keith, Sven and Pidge were waiting for Allura in the control room, along with a thoroughly anxious Nanny. "Okay, let's hear it," she said grimly.

            "There was a detonation in generator two," replied Sven, posted at one of the emergency terminals. "One of the main power generators."

            "Oh, no," Allura moaned, feeling the beginnings of a migraine pulse in her temple.

            "What about the others?" Pidge asked. "There are three more, right?"

            "Each of the four generators is wired to the others," Allura answered. "In the advent of a power failure in one of the generators, it will be able to draw power from another, so we can still run as many operations as possible, even under low power. However, for security reasons, one of the generators must serve as the primary power source, and unfortunately that is CG-2."

            "So we've got nothing?" Pidge said in dismay.

            "The emergency power will last a few more hours," the Princess replied. "By then we should be able to repair the damage."

            Keith asked the question they were all thinking. "What defense systems are online?"

            There was a brief pause while Allura moved to the keyboard, entered her special access code, and requested the information. Then she sighed, and their hearts sank. "Nothing," Allura whispered.

            "Not even the manuals?" Keith pressed.

            She shook her head. "The manuals need at least low power to create enough energy to do significant damage to whatever we're shooting at."

            "Where are we now?" asked Sven.

            "At our current power level, the energy of the shots would be absorbed by the target," Allura said quietly. "We are defenseless."

            "Well," said Pidge after a moment. "Cyann must have done their homework; she knew exactly where to put that bomb."

            "We don't know it was Cyann," Keith reminded him. "Jed's still unaccounted for."

            "Now there's a reassuring thought."

            "How long until we can get up to low power?" Keith asked.

            Allura considered a moment. "I estimate a few hours, depending on how much the rest of the generators were damaged by the blast."

            "That doesn't give us much time. Pidge," Keith addressed the younger man, "do you think you can do anything if we open up the circuit board to the main computer?"

            "You mean like, hot-wire the thing? Maybe," the young man said thoughtfully. "I'll need tools, though, and Hunk to help me. But he's still looking for Lance."

            "Well, see what you can do until he gets back. We've got to find a way to get some power, and fast."

            "Yes, sir," Pidge saluted. "Just lemme at that old circuitboard."

            Breathing hard but smirking triumphantly, Jed slowed his fast pace to catch his breath once he was safely out of the generator facility. Aldran would have been proud, he thought, fighting the urge to chuckle with satisfaction. He looked up to scan the walls with a keen eye, then reached up and deftly removed a nanotransmitter that had gone unnoticed by the castle staff. He flicked it on. "Prince Lo--"

            Something fizzed in the air, and suddenly Jed's hand was burning. With a harsh cry, the transmitter slipped through his fingers. Jed clasped the injured hand in the other, snarling, and looked for his attacker.

            "You son of a bitch," Cyann rasped, her aim still trained on him. "Do you think I'm going to let you do any more damage to this castle?" She fired again, scoring a hit in his side.

            "You're too late," he gasped, pain rendering him slightly out of breath.  "The Castle of Lions is defenseless."

            "You don't know the Voltron Force. They'll find a way. You failed, Jed."

            Another blast, another hit. Jed groaned and slumped against the wall, hissing at the pain. But his cold eyes remained fixed on Cyann.  "Go ahead, kill me. My job is finished." He gave a painful smirk. "You do realize, though, that if they come here and find me dead, you might have some explaining to do."

            "As if anyone would miss you," she spat. "I'm going to make up for the mistake I made in helping you all those years ago." She cocked the weapon, meeting his stare frostily.

            "Freeze!" shouted a new voice.

~Nearing Earth~

            Jeff glanced at the chronometer in the cockpit of his Alpha-One. "We'll make it, Ginger."

            "Are you sure?" Ginger's worry traveled easily over the two-way radio. "I know we're close, but Hawkins said we had to get back to GG by midnight, or we might as well turn around and take our chances with Lotor back on Arus."

            "We've got twenty minutes," Jeff replied, "and we've been on their radar screens for almost forty-five minutes. We're in the home stretch."

            "Jeffrey Castle!" Ginger's indignant image appeared on his vidcom. "Forty-five minutes?! How dare you not inform me when you made first radar contact?"

            Jeff chuckled at the fury on her face. "You haven't missed anything interesting. Just a couple of guys exchanging course plots and coordinates, with some occasional locker room humor."

            "I know what you're doing," Ginger retorted, "trying to take my mind off what's going on by making stupid jokes. It won't work." Ginger was trying sound stern, but from the way she immediately broke visual contact, Jeff knew that she must be smiling in spite of herself, and didn't want to admit it.

            "You could have patched yourself in at anytime, you know."

            "And breached protocol in the presence of a senior officer--one who'd never let me hear the end of it? No, thank you, I'd sooner enjoy my ignorant bliss."

            "Fair enough." Jeff adopted a more serious tone. "You know, I'm just as worried as you are, Ginger. This is so big, I'm amazed we haven't run into any delays yet."

            "Don't you dare jinx us, Jeff!" Ginger admonished, switching her visual comm back on for emphasis. "Let's leave well enough alone."

            Something beeped, followed by a burst of static, then a voice came on. "This is Galaxy Garrison, Earthbase, Operator 24323-HG speaking. We have on our primary screens now. Please identify yourself."

            After patching Ginger into the comm so she could participate, Jeff responded, "This is Captain Jeff Castle, Commander of Voltron of the Near Universe, on my way back from a-- diplomatic conference--" he swallowed hard over the words, "on Planet Arus, Leonian System, Azure Quadrant, Diamond Galaxy, reporting back to headquarters, sir."

            "And this is Lieutenant Commander Ginger Cameron, also of the Voltron Force, Air Team, also reporting back to headquarters, sir."

            There was a brief pause while the operator checked their names in the database. "Okay, welcome back, Commander, Lieutenant. Our hangars are a bit full now, would you mind slowing your pace or widening your course until we clear out a bit?"

            "Negative on that, Operator, we've got a deadline. Can't you find a place to stash us, even for a little while? A wide open field will do just fine."

            "I'll do my best, Commander," the operator replied, apparently not allowed a sense of humor, "but with these new restrictions, I'm hard-pressed to find a...suitable place for you to dock."

            You mean a 'legal' place Jeff thought dryly. Great, Aldran's paranoid reforms are already being loaded into the computers. We're lucky to get within a light year of Earth if they've already taken effect with the radar monitoring system. Dammit, we're just too close!

"I understand, Operator," he continued aloud, "but I can't stress the importance of our mission enough." An idea had suddenly occurred to him. "We're under Code 3 orders from Commander Hawkins to dock before midnight."

            "I see. Please remain on a steady course, Commander, and I'll check our capacity again."

            "Good one, Jeff," Ginger whispered over their private line, "provided he doesn't want the priority code for those phony orders."

            "Hawkins will back us up," Jeff replied confidently.

            A moment later, the namless operator came back on with the coordinates for their approach, descent, and docking site. "It might be tight for two Alpha-Ones, Commander," the man apologized, "but under the circumstances---"

            "That'll be fine, Operator," Jeff interrupted, "thank you. And could you get us on a tight line to Commander James Hawkins of the Voltron Force?"

            "Certainly, Commander. Just a moment."

            A few seconds later, Hawkins' voice came over the wire.

            "Jeff, I hope you're closer than you sound."

            "Good--" Jeff had to think for a moment, "evening, Commander Hawkins."

            "How soon can you be down here?"

            "Don't worry, Commander," Ginger answered for him. "We've just passed the primary scanners."

            "Yeah, we're so close, I can see my house, Hawkins," Jeff added. "And as long as Aldran hasn't devised any pre-show festivities, we should be just in time to deliver his reality check." He chuckled as Ginger groaned again and patched herself out.

~Arus~

            The sound of Lance's voice stopped both Cyann and Jed cold. Cyann turned automatically and flinched as a small stab of light momentarily blinded her. When her vision recovered she saw that Lance held a small flashlight in his left hand, and his blaster in his right. She gulped, expecting to see the weapon pointed at her, but instead Lance stood beside her, aiming for Jed.

            At that moment, Jed lunged toward her, wresting her own weapon away from her. Cyann snarled in anger and fear as they struggle.d.  She almost screamed when she felt another hand grabbing her, shoving her to the floor.

            "You keep your hands off her," Lance growled, launching himself at Jed. She watched them wrestling, heard Jed laughing, Lance grunting, and saw her blaster in Jed's hands.

            Her heart chilled as Jed managed to knock Lance to the floor, causing him to drop his weapon.  No... she thought and made a desperate grab for the precious blaster, but she was too late.

            Cyann and Lance struggled to their feet, never taking their eyes off Jed, who held a blaster in each hand. With his left he aimed at Cyann, with his right he aimed at Lance. Slowly, never taking his eyes off Jed, Lance moved himself in front of Cyann, spreading his arms in a gesture of surrender.

            And then Jed smiled, retracted his arms, and placed both barrels to his head.

            Cyann closed her eyes as Jed fired.

            Hunk was just turning a corner in the darkened corridor when he heard the shot. Instinctively he flattened himself against the wall, his weapon raised, ready to fire, listening for a second shot. When it didn't come, Hunk cautiously peeked around the corner. No one was there. The shot had sounded close, apparently coming from the corridor to his right. Setting his blaster for stun, he began to jog toward where he'd heard the sound. As he turned the second corner, his senses told him he was on the right track. His skin registered the increase in temperature temporarily generated by the firing of a laser in an enclosed space. And his nostrils caught the faint whiff of . . . Hunk muttered a curse before he could complete that thought, and put on an extra burst of speed, for once grateful to the workouts he was subjected to almost daily. 

            The first thing he saw made him fear the worst. There was a body on the floor, and two people standing beside it. "Nobody move!" Hunk bellowed.

            One of the figures whirled, and a thin, bright beam of light made Hunk blink. "Who's there?"

            Hunk squinted. "Lance, is that you?"

            "Yeah, it's me," said Lance's voice, and the flashlight was lowered away from Hunk's eyes. He saw that the second figure was Cyann.

            "What happened?"Hunk asked, taking in their ashen complexions.

            Lance shone the flashlight on the body.

            "Oh, my God," said Hunk, turning away from the sight. "Which one of you killed him?"

            "Neither of us," Cyann rasped, getting to her feet clumsily. She swayed on her feet, and Lance reached out to steady her.

            "You okay?" he asked, his anger forgotten.

            "Oh, I'm great, just great," she snapped, her voice shaking. Then her face seemed to crumple, and she started to cry. Lance touched her shoulder gingerly, but she shook him off, sinking back to the floor, her hands over her face.

            Suddenly, the lights in the hallway flickered on, then off again. "Hey, Pidge must've been able to get something going in the control room," Hunk said. "We should get back there."

            Lance nodded.

            Cyann raised her head, sniffling and clearly struggling to get control of her emotions again. "What about--"

            "Leave him," Lance replied gruffly. "We've got more important things to clean up."

            When Lance, Cyann, and Hunk arrived back at the control room, there was a large hole in the main console. Pidge could be seen inside it, apparently fiddling with wires. "How's this?"

            Allura typed something into the keyboard, and shook her head. "Still nothing."

            "Jed's dead," Lance announced flatly.

            Keith's head snapped around, taking in Cyann's red, puffy face and Lance's bruises in a single glance. "Did you--"

            "He was kind enough to perform that service for us," Cyann supplied curtly.

            "He killed himself?" Sven breathed in horror.

            "What better way to get off scot free?"

            "Never mind that," Lance snapped. "Any luck with the power?"

            "Pidge is working on it," Allura said.

            The lights flickered again, and Pidge cried out in pain as a flurry of sparks erupted from the hole.

            "Pidge!" Hunk called in alarm.

            "I'm okay," they heard him mutter between clenched teeth. And then the lights came on, and stayed on.

            "All right, Pidge!" Hunk called out, extending a hand to help the smaller man out of the dangerous crevice.

            Pidge's hair was more unruly than usual, but he wore a look of tired satisfaction. Then he sneezed. "When was the last time Nanny dusted in there?" he joked.

            "Thank you, Pidge," Allura said, typing her codes into the computer once more. "Now I think I can actually get it to boot up. We might even get the manuals powered up in time--"

            A thunderous blast shook the vulnerable Castle's walls. Everyone met each other's eyes in horror.

            "Allura, the viewscreen--" Keith began.

            "Just a second," she replied, typing furiously. The large screen sputtered to life, showing them exactly what they had feared.

            Lotor's face, scarred and livid with rage, mouthing words they could not hear.

            A moment later, Allura was able to patch in the audio. There was a burst of static, then the all-too-familiar voice echoed throughout the unusually silent control room.

            "--last chance. Single combat, Keith and I, his ship and mine, or I will destroy the Castle of Lions."

            Keith grabbed the microphone. "What are you talking about? What do you want?"

            Lotor's image smiled. "The same thing you do, my friend--to settle things between us once and for all. This is your chance to save your friends--and the woman you love." He spat out the words. "I know the Castle is defenseless. If you do not agree to meet me, I will open fire before you can repair your defenses--and that should take at least a few hours, if I have reckoned correctly. Now may I have your answer, Keith?"

            "You already know my answer," Keith barked, glaring at Lotor. "But give me an hour. There are some things I need to take care of first."

            "And give you time to patch your defense systems? No, I think not. I'm tired of waiting, Keith. If you're not in the air in fifteen minutes, the deal is off and I destroy your Castle with you in it." And he fired again.

            The castle rocked, and the viewscreen scrambled and went to black. The room became eerily silent, tension making it hard to breathe. Keith stood motionless, staring at the blank screen with unseeing eyes. Allura had her hands pressed to her forehead, her lips moving in words no one could hear, a denial, a prayer. Everyone else seemed frozen in place.

            Lance shattered the silence first, as usual, by picking up a tool of Pidge's and hurling it across the room, where it slammed into the metal walls and made a huge clatter that shook everyone out of their stupor.

            "God damn it!" the red lion pilot roared. "What the hell have we done wrong? Why is he winning?!"

            "We couldn't have known, Lance," Sven said, forever calm, even though his face was pale and drawn.

            "No thanks to me," Cyann murmured, closing her eyes. "This is all my fault."

            "No!"

            All eyes on the Princess, who was staring at Cyann. "No!" Allura repeated, her voice firm but with a shrill timbre to it. "You're a victim too, you got sucked in just like we did. Do not ever blame yourself for what was going to happen any--"

            At that moment she stopped, surprised by the words. Keith had turned his head and was looking at her. Allura looked back at him, her blue eyes widening first in disbelief, then horror, then . . . they relaxed, and she blinked away tears.

            Ten minutes...

            It was all they had.

            All they might ever have in this world.

            The look in Keith's eyes spoke all the pain she felt, and then some. Most painful of all was the flicker of futility.

             No . . . not when we've just . . . just a little more time . . .

            "There's no more time," he said quietly, in answer to thoughts that must have been visible on her face. "I have to go." That he sounded so calm made it worse.

            "Keith." Sven walked toward his old friend, the same horrified acceptance in every movement. He knew, too, that Keith had no choice. None of them had any choice. This was how it would be.

             "Be careful," was all Sven said.

            They all felt it then, the searing inevitability of it all. Pidge, Hunk and Lance all shared grim glances. Sven held Keith's gaze a moment longer, then dropped his eyes, unable to look any further at the destiny on his friend's face. Cyann's face had gone bone white, along with her lips; she looked as though she stared down death as well.

            "I'll go with you to your ship," Allura said, swallowing hard over the lump in her throat.

            Keith nodded. Without meeting anyone's eyes, their former captain turned and began to walk purposefully toward the exit, his long stride not the least bit diminished by the weight of what he was about to do. Allura made to follow, then stopped and looked at Lance.

            "Will you...watch Koran?"

            Lance's own eyes were red with misery and frustration. "Of course," he answered, not bothering to check the breaks in his voice. Allura thanked him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

            They did not speak on the way to the hangar. There were no words for this. The air had a heavy stillness, a strangeness that felt like a thick fog. Allura did not feel as though she were truly there; surely she was still in bed, dozing as she slowly returned to wakefulness, that was why the edges seemed blurred, why nothing seemed real . . .

            They arrived at the Alpha One so quickly she felt sure they must have teleported. The air in the nearly empty bay seemed to have a voice of its own. It sang to her, like a rushing of blood in her ears.

            This isn't happening . . .  The tiny voice was so soft she ignored it easily.

            Keith was beside her, pulling on his flight suit coveralls over his short-sleeved shirt and pants, zipping it up with his own easy grace. She watched him as he walked over to the shelf, where a row of helmets lay, selected one and returned to her side. They looked each other in the eyes.

            Allura's lips were dry. Act normal, she admonished herself. Everything will be fine. She opened her mouth to tell him to be careful--

            "Don't say it," he said as her lips parted. His voice was easy and light, relaxed, as if he were just going out for a quick spin. "It's bad luck , you know."

            "What should I say, then?" she said finally.

            "Nothing at all. You don't need to. One captain to another," he inclined his head, "everything is instinct."

            She looked up at him, her cerulean eyes confused. "What are you talking about?"

            And then he smiled. "You can do it, Allura. Deep down I always knew you had it in you." Never taking his eyes off hers, he slipped something into her pocket. When she started to look down, he placed his fingers under her chin and tilted it up so his lips could meet hers.   The kiss broke something deep within her; when they drew apart, she had to struggle not to let it show on her face. Instead, she said, "I won't wish you luck, then, either. I know that much."

            Just come home safe to me.

            He smiled again. But for the first time ever, she could see it was a mask. Something was breaking through; she couldn't let that happen. She smiled back, determinedly, "How about, 'just bring that piece of junk back in one piece, hotshot'?"

            His smile widened, showing flawless white teeth. "Perfect. I'll see you later, then."

            She knew the answer this time, too. "Yes," she replied. "Later."

            He nodded again and turned away to climb the ladder into the cockpit. Allura stood back, arms at her sides, watching him. She stayed until the ship had left the hangar, then turned and started the long walk back to the control room.

            She was halfway there when the Castle shook.

~Galaxy Garrison, Earth~

            Hawkins was waiting for them in the hangar, his face grey and lined. As Jeff and Ginger approached, he called out, too impatient to wait for them to speak.

            "Do you have it?"

            "Right here!" Ginger called, removing the envelope from her pocket. "Signed and sealed, and waiting to nail Aldran's ass to the wall."

            "How much time have we got, Hawkins?" Jeff asked as they exited the bay.

            "A negative amount. Aldran jumped the gun on us." Hawkins handed Jeff a thin folder, Aldran's brief detailing the reassignments of the members of the Voltron Force. "But if we can get a few of the Board members to view and notorize this, they can vote to remove him. It has to be unanimous, however."

            "No problem," Ginger said. "Cyann didn't hold anything back. This thing is so hot I'm surprised it hasn't melted. When the Board gets a load of this, they'll boot the bastard out so fast he won't have time to wonder what hit him!"

            "Is it just me," Jeff teased, "or are you enjoying this, too?"

            "Speaking of Captain Miller," Hawkins began delicately, to curb their mirth, "you both know that, despite her deposition, she'll still have to stand trial for conspiracy, among other things."

            "Yeah, but they'll take this into account when they sentence her, right?" Ginger's confidence was boundless. "She did the right thing in the end."

            Hawkins and Jeff exchanged a look that made it clear they did not share such a sunny view. There was a brief silence, then Jeff asked, "Who should we start with, Commander?"

            "General Kruger is the most senior member; he'd be the best place to start, that is, if he's still in his office."

            "Hell, I'd be willing to shake him out of bed for this," Jeff cracked. "News this good you have to spread around! Let's do it."

            General Kruger was just leaving his office when the trio came barrelling down the hall. The white-haired General looked up in surprise as Jeff called out, "Here's your proof, General!"

            Kruger ignored Jeff. "Commander Hawkins, what is the meaning of this? It's after midnight--"

            "I'm sorry, General," Hawkins interrupted, "but this was too important to wait. We have a signed depostion from Aldran's chief aide, Captain Cyann Miller, proving he made deals with the Drule Empire in exchange for peace in the Near Universe."

            "What's all this?" came another voice. Space Marshal Aldran came striding down the hall, an amused smile on his face.

            "It's over, Aldran!" Jeff burst out, his anger boiling over. "We know all about your plans! We've got it all right here!" He grabbed the deposition away from Ginger and brandished it at Aldran.

            "Captain Castle!" Kruger barked. "You will salute and address the Space Marshal properly!"

            Jeff gritted his teeth and performed a stingy salute. "With all due respect, Space Marshal," his tone dripped with sarcasm, "we have come across concrete evidence linking you with the Drule Empire. We believe the Board of Directors has the right to view it."

            "And what, precisely, is this 'concrete evidence' you have?" Aldran's gray eyes were steely and hard, but his expression was still relaxed.

            Ginger seized the brief back from Jeff. "Cyann Miller provided this deposition detailing exactly how--and how long ago--you made a deal with both Admiral Throk of the Drule Empire and Prince Lotor of Planet Doom, promising--now how did you put it--certain courtesies if they agreed to leave your precious core of of Alliance planets alone for the time being."

            "Prince Lotor is dead," Aldran replied. "We all know that. His planet was destroyed three years ago, and him with it."

            "That's what you made us think, but you knew damn well that he survived--your spies are famous for being thorough," Jeff spat. "You couldn't afford to assume him dead, not with what he had on you."

            "Captain Castle, this is--" Kruger broke in, but Jeff cut him off.

            "I'm sorry, General, but I've got to say this now, before Aldran can think of a way to lie himself out of it. Aldran recalled Captain Keith Silver of the Voltron Force to headquarters three years ago, seemingly because he was no longer needed on Arus--but actually because he'd made a deal with Prince Lotor to leave Arus vulnerable and easy to conquer. In exchange, Lotor agreed to keep his paws off the rest of the Alliance planets. But then Planet Doom was destroyed--the perfect excuse for you to cover your tracks. But Lotor survived, and got in touch with you. And he still wanted what you had promised him."

            "This is ridiculous," Kruger scoffed.

            "It may seem so, General," Hawkins said, "but Captain Miller has always been one of our finest officers. She has no reason to lie--"

            "On the contrary, Commander," Aldran broke in, "Captain Miller was discharged from my services some time ago, against her wishes. She has every reason to want to slander me now. Especially--"

            "Regardless of whether or not is still in your service," Hawkins continued, "the fact remains that she has been your aide for the past five years. She was in precisely the position to observe your actions--including those you did not inform the Board about. She has no history of duplicity--"

            "If you'd let me get a word in edgewise, Hawkins," Aldran broke in, a dangerous glint in his slate-blue eyes. "I could tell you the reason Captain Miller was discharged from my services: she betrayed my trust. She had formed a sort of pact with a former colleague of hers, Jedrel Jhaksinn, who as you know was convicted of espionage with the Drule Empire. They were plotting against me, to undermine my reforms and gain power for themselves. Cyann's allegiance, I discovered tragically, was to herself alone."

            "That's bull, you're just saying that because she double-crossed you back!" Jeff shouted. "Cyann knew what you were up to, and she wanted no part of it! Aldran wants to disband Voltron, General Kruger!" he appealed to the other man. "He gave Commander Hawkins the orders tonight." He held up the brief Aldran had given Hawkins.

            "Disband Voltron?" General Kruger's bushy eyebrows shot up. "You never discussed this with us, Space Marshal."

            "Not disband, General," Aldran assured him, shooting a brief dagger's glare toward Jeff. "I merely meant to reorganize the teams."

            "Reorganize them in what way?" Kruger folded his hands over his massive chest. He was a head taller than Aldran, though not so large around the belly. "I know you've never held much faith in what you refer to as the 'old technology,' Aldran, but that is an opinion we do not share. The Voltron robots were designed by King Alfor of Arus, one of the greatest engineers of our time--and a personal friend of mine. I believed in him, and his ideas. And so does the rest of the Board. Those two robots have been our best defense against the forces that would have split apart the Alliance since you were a mere cadet. I am surprised that you'd let your prejudice for modern methods blind you to the fact that those robots are the only reason the Alliance still exists for you to preside over!"

            Aldran looked taken aback.

            "And I am also surprised, Space Marshal," Kruger went on, taking the papers that Hawkins handed him, "that you would presume to make this kind of decision when you and I both know that it is written in our directive--a directive that you yourself signed--that Voltron can only be disbanded by a unanimous vote from the Board, as well as the leaders of every planet under our charter!"

            Jeff and Ginger exchanged a glance of amazement. Could it be--Aldran, the master bureaucrat--caught in his own trap?

            "Obsolete fools," Aldran spat, emotion seeping through his steel reserve. "Times are different--"

            "On the contrary, to use your words," Kruger interrupted silkily, "I believe that things are very much the same. That directive was created by the founders of the Alliance to prevent exactly what you have attempted to do. It seems there is still much to credit in the old ways."

            Kruger reached for his personal commlink and switched it on. "General Colvin? Kruger here. I am calling an emergency meeting of the directors, regarding the new reforms. Alert the others." He gave Aldran a loathing glance. "And summon security to my coordinates."

            A security team arrived promptly to escort Kruger and Aldran to the Board room for the impromptu meeting. Kruger thanked Hawkins, Jeff and Ginger for their hard work and promised to get in touch with them after the meeting ended. Hawkins then excused himself, telling them to get some rest.

            But Jeff saw his own restlessness reflected in Ginger's eyes, and knew that neither of them would be able to sleep until all this was over. So he suggested they head to the cafeteria for coffee and a bite to eat.

            "Sounds good to me," Ginger said, drawing a hand through her tumbled curls, making them uncharacteristically tousled. "I could use a stiff drink."

            When they were seated in a cozy booth, with their beverages a few small snacks, neither of them knew what to say at first. At this hour, the cafeteria was almost deserted; only the hardiest and most workaholic of the daytime officers were still going, and night staff was still awaiting their first break. Jeff sipped his coffee silently, brooding, while Ginger downed her whisky soda in one gulp and picked at her French fries.

            A full five minutes passed before either spoke. "I'll say it first," Ginger said. "I wonder what's happening on Arus."

            Jeff's brow furrowed, but he did not reply.

            "I mean," Ginger was obviously trying to fill the awkward silence, "I hope everything is all right."

            Still Jeff made no reply.

            She regarded him with concern, her fries forgotten. "What's wrong with you now?" she asked in a low tone. "Jeff?"

            "I can't believe we made it," he said finally.

            "To get Aldran, you mean?"

            "Yeah."

            Ginger propped her chin on one hand. "I know." She picked up a fry and began dousing it liberally in ketchup. She looked tired. "It's like, the first thing to go right for us since . . ."

            "Since all this began," finished Jeff, taking another sip.

            Another long silence.

            Ginger looked up with a sigh. "I think I'm going to get another drink. You want one? You look like you could use it."

            Jeff shrugged into his coffee. Ginger took that as a 'yes' and headed to the bar, returning a minute later. "Drink up," she said, tossing hers back.

            As she swallowed, coughing slightly as the liquor burned down her throat, she noticed Jeff looking at her with an odd expression. "What?"

            "I didn't know you drank whisky."

            "I don't, normally," she replied. "But in these circumstances I think it's justified."

            Their eyes met.

            "I don't drink it much, either," Jeff said, reaching for the other glass and took a swig."Yikes, this doesn't taste like a whisky soda." He made a face but managed to stifle a cough.

            "It's straight. I thought we could use it."

            "You're going to get sloshed, Ginger."

            "Maybe, maybe not. Either is fine with me." Her face was flushed, and for the first time he noticed how pale her skin was, how her freckles burned like bright stars on her exhausted face.

            Abruptly he looked away. Get a grip, Jeff, honestly, at a time like this . . .  He took another swig to mask the sudden warmth in his cheeks. The whole scene had a note of unreality. Their entire way of life hung in the balance; whatever happened in the next hour or so might change their lives forever. And yet here he was, sitting in a bar with a fellow pilot--no, with Ginger--downing whisky and pretending they hadn't already been through more than enough to be beyond this awkwardness . . .

            He realized that Ginger was trying to get his attention. "What is it?"

            "How long has it been since we left Arus?"

            Jeff looked at his watch, which was still set to Arus time. He did a few calculations. They'd flown back at warp speed, taxing their Alpha-One engines a bit, but it had paid off. A journey that had taken them three days one way (with rest stops) had taken only four hours, nonstop. But considering what they had left behind, it seemed a huge gulf of time.

            "Almost five hours, why?"

            Ginger looked down at the tabletop. "We should check in. Who knows--" she cut off the sentence; there was no need to finish it, after all.

            It could all be over by now.

~Arus~

            For a time she lay there, believing herself dead...or at least very near. She was barely breathing, there was something heavy weighing down her chest...it was only a matter of time...there was nothing to be done, she knew that...She wasn't sure what had happened, death was already fogging her memory, not that it mattered. Her time was up, it was all over, and she was so tired . . . so damn tired . . . of all this . . .

-~Earth~

            Jeff and Ginger were just rising from their booth when a security officer approached them.

            "Captain Castle, Lieutenant Cameron," he acknowledged them both with a salute, "I have been asked to escort you to General Kruger's chambers for an immediate audience.

            Jeff and Ginger locked gazes. The meeting was over. This was it.

            "Lead the way, corporal," said Jeff, having noticed the man's designation.

            As the officer led them back toward Kruger's offices, Jeff felt his heart pounding almost audibly. It felt as though he had been waiting years for this, and perhaps he had. Still so hard to believe a week ago he'd been blissfully ignorant of all this. The world had taken a decidedly darker turn of late.

            The security guard left them at the entrance to Kruger's main office. With one last bracing glance at Ginger, who was looking a little perkier, they entered.

            Kruger sat behind his desk, reading something intently with a frown on his face.

            "General," Jeff began, giving a salute that Ginger mirrored. "What did the Board decide?"

            Kruger looked up, and the expression on his face made Jeff stomach drop like a stone. "I'm afraid we were interrupted before we could come to a full decision. Aldran has been placed in detention until further notice, but right now we have a more serious problem. We have lost contact with Planet Arus."

            "What?!" Jeff's voice rose a pitch.

            "We attempted to contact Captain Miller at the Castle of Lions, where I understand she is being detained. But we were unable to establish a connection, and when we checked our surveillance map, the Planet had disappeared."

            "How can a planet just disappear?!" Ginger's voice held a tinge of hysteria.

            "I doubt the planet has vanished, Lieutenant Cameron. I believe we have simply lost radio contact. Do either of you know how this could have happened?"

            Again Jeff and Ginger's eyes met, this time in horror. "No, General," Jeff replied slowly, "but I think we'd better check it out right away. Is there a way we can get a visual image from a satellite?"

            "Yes, there is. In fact, I was just on my way when I realized that you two might want to be present."

            "Yes," Ginger said breathlessly, swallowing hard.

            As they made their way to the main communications center, Ginger whispered to Jeff, "Oh my god, what could have happened now? We shouldn't have gone!"

            "Let's not panic just yet," Jeff replied between clenched teeth, though panicking was exactly what he felt like doing. "It could have been a simple malfunction, or . . ."

            "Something a lot worse," Ginger finished. "Jeff . . . do you remember what Cyann told us about--"

            But she never finished the sentence; they had reached their destination, and Kruger was barking out coordinates to the sleepy cadet on duty.

            The immense viewscreen that Galaxy Garrison used for official conferences with leaders of Alliance planets sprang to life, showing first a nondescript-looking patch of space. It then zoomed in several times until a pale periwinkle planet was visible: Arus.

            Beside Jeff, Ginger breathed an audible sigh of relief that the planet hadn't actually disappeared.

            "There's been no space battle," Kruger said thoughtfully to no one in particular, scanning the image. "Ion scan, Ensign!" Pause. "Quite a lot of ion trails still visible though; there's been activity in the past day or two in the near vicinity of the planet."

            "When the boys went to get Allura," Jeff heard Ginger whisper to herself.

            The image zoomed in a few more times, until a familiar continent, then countryside, became visible. "Show me the Castle of Lions," Kruger ordered.

            When the familiar image appeared, everyone gasped.

            "No!" cried Ginger, her hand flying to her lips.

            "Good god!" rasped Kruger.

            Where the Castle of Lions had stood, there was only a smokened, blackened shell.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .