Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron,
Star Trek, or any characters mentioned here that are canon to either franchise. What I do own are the fighter, Thunderwing, and the crew
of the Berlin, except for Mordock. The rest I'm just
borrowing for a while.
Not a whole lot of action in this one. Mostly backgound, but it's necessary.
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Star-Tron: The Black Suits ComethChapter 2
The tall, green-skinned officer watched the small, ancient aircraft pull into the bay and settle down on its three wheels. The whirling propeller came to a stop, and the canopy slid back.
Commander Gredar walked towards the craft as its occupant disembarked, climbing onto the wing and jumping down to the deck. Gredar met his captain near the nose of the aircraft. "Captain," he said with a nod, but his stiff, Gorn physique made it more of a bow.
Gredar was the first Gorn officer in Starfleet. He had participated in a pioneering officer-exchange program between Starfleet and the Gorn Star Navy. Previously serving as chief operations manager aboard the U.S.S Dartagnan, he had sought and secured the position of first officer aboard the Berlin.
"Yo, Gredar. Whassup?" The captain asked.
"Sir?"
"Sorry, Gredar," Driscoll said, realizing that not everyone understood his usual dialect of Twentieth Century slang and catch phrases. "Ship status?"
"All crew members are aboard. Final launch preparations are underway. We are on schedule for departure in two hours," the Gorn reported, a translator implant in his jaw rendering the hisses and snarls of Gorn language understandable to the captain.
"Okay, cool. Then let's do a senior staff meeting in one hour, so I can tell everyone about our orders."
"Very well," Gredar rasped.
The captain nodded, then retrieved his duffel from the jumpseat of his plane. As he was heading out, he saw two shuttle techs heading toward Thunderwing with a maintenance cart. "Yo! Hold up!"
The two techs looked up as Adam jogged over to them. "Standing orders, guys. Nobody touches this plane without my approval, got it?"
The senior of the two, a CPO, nodded. "Aye, sir. Request permission to do maintenance on the Captain's plane?"
Driscoll shook his head. "Permission denied. I'll take care of it. Just move
her out of the way, if you must. You need the wings
folded?"
"That would help, sir," the CPO replied.
"No prob." Driscoll dropped his duffel and climbed onto the wing, reaching into the cockpit. Normally, P-51's weren't equipped with wing-folding capability. However, that was another of the extras that the captain had put in. Pulling a small lever near the bomb release, he looked out and watched the wings twist up ninety degrees, just outboard of the phasers, and then sweep back parallel to the fuselage, reducing the fighter's wingspan by half.
He climbed back down and retrieved his bag. "There ya go. All set?"
"Yes, sir," said the CPO.
Adam nodded. "Good. I'll see ya around." With that, he turned and left the shuttlebay.
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The five robot lions pulled out of a steep dive into a high-g zoom-climb. Keith and Lance were able to hold together. Hunk and Pidge also held together, but they fell out of formation with Lance and Keith. Allura was late starting her pullout, and was badly out of position.
"Princess, you have to stay in tight with the rest of us," said Keith. "The whole point of this maneuver is to evade an attack while maintaining the strength of the formation. If you can't stay with us, Zarkon's ships can single you out."
Allura sighed in frustration. "I know, Keith. I'm sorry. I'll work on the timing more."
"It's okay, Princess. That's why we have these practices. Let's try it again, team." But Keith had something else on his mind. What he really wanted was for Allura to fly with a wingman. But with five ships, they didn't have enough to fly in pairs. Normally, he, Lance, and Sven would have flown as a vic, if need be, and Hunk and Pidge could cover each other. But now, he didn't know. Allura's skills were just not as developed as the rest of the team, and she lacked their history. He hoped he could figure something out soon.
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Captain Driscoll walked into sickbay to meet his new chief medical officer. At the last minute, his old CMO, Dr. Parkley, had come down with Ressikan Swine Flu, and was not able to ship out with the Berlin, forcing the captain to request an emergency replacement.
When Adam walked into the CMO's office, he saw a dark-haired man hanging a scimitar on the wall near his desk.
"Planning on doing some surgery, doc?" he asked.
The doctor turned around. His dark hair was parted on the left, and was the same color as the light mustache under his nose. He had a dark olive complexion, and brown eyes. "Ah, Captain Driscoll, I presume? Salaam alaikum," he said with a slight bow.
"Wa alaikum as salaam, doctor," the younger man replied. "And you can call me 'Adam'. I hate formality."
"Very well. And I am Doctor Richard Saladin, known to my friends as 'the Sheik'."
"Well, Sheik, I just wanted to stop in and meet you before the first staff meeting, which is in one hour, by the way."
Saladin nodded at his desk as the sword settled onto the hangers above it. "I have Commander Gredar's announcement here. I have already met all the crew. Quite the assemblage."
Adam chuckled. "Tell me about it. I feel like Kelsey Grammer in 'Down Periscope'."
"Who and what is that?" the doctor asked.
"A movie star and the movie he starred in."
"Ah, I see. Well, if you'll excuse me, Captain, I have a few more things to do before the meeting."
"Yeah, so do I, actually. Catch ya later."
"A pleasure to meet you, sir."
Driscoll looked over his shoulder. "You too, Sheik," and left sickbay.
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An hour later, the senior staff of the Berlin gathered in the main conference room, and the captain surveyed the assembly around the long, black table. Adam sat at the head of the table. To his right was Gredar in a special, armless chair. On his left sat Lieutenant-Commander Tina Jacobs, known as T.J. The tall, blond woman was the second officer and security chief, as well as the primary tactical officer. Next to Gredar sat the Puerto Rican operations chief, Maria Singh. Beside her was Lieutenant J.G. Michael Curtis, a talented young officer from Alabama, who was the chief helmsman.
Next to Jacobs was Dr. Saladin, and beside him was Lieutenant Mordock, the Benzite science officer. That made seven out of eight. The only one missing was Ben Querat, the chief engineer, and the only remaining senior officer from Adam's original command.
The captain was busy speaking with Gredar, comparing notes on their orders, when he heard the door open. Ah, good, Ben's here, he thought. But what he heard next was not the mellow voice of his chief engineer.
"I'm sorry I'm late, but there was a wee problem with the warp core," the newcomer said in a Scottish brogue.
Driscoll's head snapped up, and he almost didn't believe his eyes. At first he thought he was seeing a ghost, before he remembered the incident with the Jenolan. Still, it had been a long time since he'd been in the presence of James T. Kirk's chief engineer. The engineer would have said ninety years. Adam, only two.
"Scotty!" the Captain exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Well, Adam, yer Commander Querat go' a last-minute transfer to the Tecumseh, and seein' as I was in the area, I took the position. Besides, with the damn-fool ride you're goin' on, ye'll need a good hand."
"That we will, Scotty. Now, speaking of that, Commander Gredar and I will brief you all on our orders."
Captain and XO briefed the crew on their assignment, to patrol for subspace tornadoes and probe them to determine how they are caused, how to stop them, if possible, and how to detect them. The current warning time was three seconds, hardly enough even to take evasive action.
With the briefing concluded, Adam instructed Gredar to post their orders for the crew to review, and everyone went to their stations to prepare for departure.
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On Planet Doom, Zarkon was conferring with Hagar about the status of her latest robeast. As usual, she had promised that this one was bigger and better than the last, which was bigger and better than the one before that, and so on. So, when she promised once again that Voltron would meet his end this time, the King of Doom was more than a little skeptical. And as Hagar finished making her latest sales pitch, Zarkon told her what he thought in no uncertain terms.
"That's almost the same speech you gave me the last time, witch," Zarkon chided. "I don't want pretty words. I want results, and you have yet to produce them. My patience is wearing thin, Hagar."
"I have reviewed this robeast myself, Father," said Prince Lotor, who stood at the foot of Zarkon's throne pedestal with the witch. "This is indeed her most powerful robeast. I guarantee you victory."
"Like you did with the last one?"
Lotor was dumbstruck. With a single sentence, Zarkon had completely derailed his train of thought.
"I'll tell you this, Lotor. This had better work, or you may not live to regret it."
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Captain Driscoll looked around the bridge as he settled into his chair. On his right, Gredar was seated in an armless chair like the one he used in the conference room, owing to his large size. Behind the two senior officers was the tactical station, manned by Lieutenant-Commander Jacobs. At the front of the bridge and to the left was Lieutenant Singh at the Ops console, and Lieutenant Curtis was to the right of her at the helm. Behind and to the right of Gredar was the science station, manned by Lieutenant Mordock. The other stations around the bridge were occupied by a few ensigns and NCO's.
"Spacedock has cleared us for departure, sir," Jacobs reported.
"Thank you, T.J," Driscoll said. Because of his distaste for pointless formalities, he preferred to use first names and nicknames with his crew, to foster a greater sense of camaraderie. Thus far, he'd met with few objections. "Mr. Curtis, break orbit. Impulse power, all ahead one-half."
"Aye, sir, all ahead one-half impulse." Curtis was caught off guard by his captain's use of traditional nautical terminology when issuing the order, but didn't miss a beat.
The starship left Earth orbit, heading out into the solar system. Once past Mars, the Berlin accelerated to full impulse, until they reached Jupiter.
"Jupiter Station reports clear space ahead. We are authorized for warp speed," Jacobs said.
"Very well," said Adam. "Bridge to engineering."
"Scott here."
"Scotty, are the mains ready for action?"
"Ready when you are, sir. Just give the word."
Driscoll smiled. "The word is given, Scotty. Prepare
for warp speed."
"With pleasure, sir."
"Mr. Curtis, set course for the Hekaras Corridor, warp speed. All ahead two-thirds."
Curtis punched the orders into his console. "Course and speed laid in."
"Then let's kick it into gear. Engage."
On her captain's order, the Starship Berlin raced off at warp six. Her mission had begun.