Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any characters mentioned here that are cannon 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.
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Star Tron:
The Black Suits Cometh
Chapter 4
The Voltron Force was hanging around in the lounge in the castle. Keith and Lance had their heads together, talking strategy, while Pidge and Hunk tried to teach Allura how to play poker. Unfortunately for them, she was a quick study, and Hunk was looking at a very lean week, having lost his next five desserts to the princess. Pidge wasn't much better off. He had stuck with betting cash, and now owed Allura enough for a new dress.
But, as was so often the case, the tranquil moment was too good to last. With an ear-shattering howl, the castle alarms went off. The Voltron Force, like the crack pilots they were, rushed to the control room without a word, except for Lance, who muttered, "Here we go again."
When they got to the control room, they found Coran where he always was, at the central console, checking the sensors and evaluating the data.
"What have we got, Coran?" Keith asked.
"One Doom command ship, escorted by fighters. They have already deployed a robeast, and it is heading this way."
"Okay, team, to the launch tubes!"
Without looking away from the sensors, Coran hit the control to raise the central console, revealing the entrances to the launch tubes. The five pilots ran forward and leapt into their tubes, grabbing the handle bar and riding down to the trams that would take them to their lions.
Within seconds, all five lions were manned, and Keith commanded, "Insert keys."
"Keys set!" the pilots chorused as they placed their keys into the slots on their panels, activating the lions.
As soon as the lions were
powered up, they took off from their hiding places, formed up over the castle,
and headed out to face the robeast.
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"Captain?"
"Talk to me, Mordock," Driscoll replied.
"I have finished calculating the tornado's trajectory," the Benzite replied from the science station. "If it continues to accelerate at this rate, it will reach Earth in exactly six hours, thirty-two minutes, and…"
"Okay, so six-and-a-half hours. How do we stop it?" Driscoll said, cutting off his science officer.
"I don't know, sir."
"Not good enough, Lieutenant. We need options, people. Anybody got anything? I don't care how ridiculous you think it is."
There was silence for a few minutes, until Jacobs said, "Skipper?"
"Go, T.J." Driscoll acknowledged her.
"What about a torpedo? If one of the probes can deflect the anomaly's course, a full-yield photon torpedo should be able to do it better."
"Okay, but how do we get it through the gravitational eddies and energy discharges?" Driscoll stood and leaned on the tactical console, facing his security chief.
Jacobs was silent. Her brow creased in thought. After a few minutes, she looked at Driscoll and shook her head. "I don't know."
The captain looked at her, nodded, and sat back down in his seat. He assumed his usual posture, half-slouched and leaning on the left arm rest, and began to think. Jacobs' idea of a torpedo was good, but he knew that the photon would never survive long enough to get into the anomaly. It would either be destroyed or swept into the debris field, and would have little effect on the tornado's course.
But they had to come up with something. Nearly ten billion people were counting on them.
"Mr. Curtis, increase
to flank and try to pass this thing."
"Aye, sir," Curtis replied.
"Sir, should I alert Starfleet Command?" Jacobs asked.
The captain glanced at his first officer, and could read Gredar's opinion on his harsh, reptilian features. Protocol demanded that Starfleet be notified.
"No, T.J. We won't alert command. They probably know already, and if not, what's the point? There's nothing they can do. But keep an eye out for any ships on our path, and warn them away."
"Aye, sir," Jacobs replied. To herself, she was cursing the young officer. Don't alert command? What was the idiot thinking? They could evacuate…
Then it hit her. Evacuate ten billion people in six hours? There was no way they could do it. Maybe it was the best course after all. Avoid panic. And Starfleet probably did already know about it.
So it was up to the Berlin and her crew to save Earth. Yes, the Berlin could run the Enterprise a merry chase indeed.
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The five robot lions flew toward the robeast at supersonic speed. The hideous robotic construct was fast approaching one of the villages that surrounded the Castle of Lions, and the townspeople were fleeing before it.
"Okay, team, when we get into range, we'll scatter and attack it from all sides at once," said Keith. "We have to keep it out of the village."
Four different acknowledgements came over Keith's radio, and he knew his team was ready. The commander turned his attention back to the ugly task at hand, and got his first good look at Hagar's latest creation.
It was a sickly olive green overall, with a face like a walrus. It had tiny, blood-red eyes and huge, black tusks that oozed some sort of bluish fluid. The body was boxy, with muscular arms and legs. Two cannons were attached to its back, and some sort of projectile launchers were attached to the wrists. Its feet were like talons, with two spike-like toes facing forward, and one facing back. There were vein-like tubules and patches on the robeast that were a vomit-green color.
"Ugh, somebody should sign him up for the next horror flick," said Hunk.
"That's a perfect ten on my ugly robot scale," Pidge added.
"No argument there," said Keith. "Prepare to attack on my command."
Watching from hic command ship, Lotor saw the five lions move into attack position. "Now," he commanded, "the growth ray, quickly!"
"Right away, my Prince," one of the guards replied with a bow.
Lance had just blasted the robeast with his flamethrower when he saw the command ship move into position. "Look out, guys, that thing's about to get a whole lot uglier," he said, as the ray hit the robeast.
"Then we'd better keep pace with him," said Keith, watching the lights on his heads-up display flash. "Ready to form Voltron! Activate interlocks. Dynotherms connected. Infracells up. Megathrusters are go!"
"Let's go Voltron Force!" the pilots chorused. They formed up on Keith and flew straight up as the commander dictated the formation sequence.
"Form feet and legs," Keith ordered, and Blue and Yellow Lions tucked in their legs and stood on their chins. "Form arms and body." Red and Green Lions tucked their legs in and Black Lion's front legs disappeared, while its back legs stretched out behind it. Blue Lion attached to Black Lion's right leg, and Yellow Lion attached to the left. Red and Green Lions attached themselves to Black Lion's shoulders.
"And I'll form the head," Keith announced, as the head of Black Lion changed to become the head and helmet of Voltron, Defender of the Universe. With an earth-shattering roar, the formation sequence completed, and the great warrior stood facing his foe.
But the robeast had changed, too. The cannons on its back had moved to its shoulders, and it had sprouted guns on its chest, an extra set of arms, and the launchers on its wrists had enlarged and multiplied. Each wrist now had three launchers, for a total of twelve. And all of that was added to the increase in size and strength that accompanied the growth ray.
But Keith was unfazed. "Let's get 'im, team. Eyebeams!" he announced as two yellow beams of light shot from Voltron's eyes and speared the robeast in the chest, knocking it back.
The robeast was far from defeated, though. It answered back with a salvo from the launchers on its two left arms.
"Defend!" Keith ordered. Voltron ducked to the right, his left arm coming up to ward off the attack. Green Lion took the full force of the hit.
"Pidge, are you all right?" Allura asked.
"Just fine, Princess," the boy replied.
"Hey, where'd he go?" Hunk asked.
Voltron looked around, and then up, just in time to see the robeast coming straight at him, leg outstretched to deliver a kick.
This is not going to be good, Lance thought as Voltron's right arm came up to ward off the blow.
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The Starship Berlin raced on, the subspace tornado close behind, and gaining.
"Captain," said Lt. Singh from the ops console. "At its present rate of acceleration, the anomaly will overtake us in approximately twenty-six minutes, forty-seven seconds."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Driscoll replied. "Mr. Curtis, plot an escape vector that will lead us clear of that beast as soon as possible and stand by to engage."
"Aye, sir," Curtis replied, already examining possible escape vectors.
"Mordock, any idea how to stick a torpedo in this thing?"
The Benzite swiveled around to face the young captain. "Unfortunately, no sir. The storm gains strength as it accelerates, and any calculations I make are useless before I finish them."
"Can't you account for the increases?"
"No, sir. There is no regularity to them whatsoever."
"Dammit." Driscoll slumped back in his chair, then sat up. The anomaly was less than two hours from Earth, and there was nothing they could do about it. In another half hour, they would fall hopelessly behind, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Or was there?
The idea hit Adam like a bolt of lightning. He just might be able to do something, but it would mean blowing the lid off of a secret he'd hoped to keep to himself. But what was the alternative? The destruction of the Earth, and the central command and government of the United Federation of Planets in the middle of a war that was already not going well.
But could he do it? He had only used his power on himself thus far. Now, he was thinking about controlling a force of nature, and transporting it and the Berlin.
But he had no choice.
He rose from his chair. "Lieutenant Curtis, move us back behind the tornado. Hold distance at five hundred thousand kilometers. And you are to hold that course. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
The captain sat back down, then rose again. "Gredar,
a word, please?"
The Gorn rose and accompanied the captain to the turbolift, and then to Driscoll's ready room on deck two.
Gredar stood there, waiting for the captain to speak. Driscoll took a moment, then announced, "I'm letting you know now. I'm gonna try to use a wormhole to deflect the tornado. This is not open to debate. It's the only chance we got."
Gredar was known to be less than accepting of the captain, but now, his only answer was an observation. "There are none in this region."
"Not yet, Gredar, but there will be. I've told you about my…ability."
"Not in detail," the Gorn replied, almost sounding disinterested, even though neither his growls nor their translation conveyed any voice inflections.
"Well, I'll give you a full briefing as soon as we've dealt with that thing."
Gredar only nodded, or bowed, depending on your perspective, and the two officers returned to the bridge.
Stepping off of the turbolift, Driscoll called out, "Mike, are we in position?"
"Yes, sir, we are holding position five hundred thousand kilometers behind the anomaly."
"Very good. Hold this course. Do NOT deviate under any circumstances, got it?"
"Aye."
"Okay, people, listen up. Something very funky is about to go down. Just do your jobs and don't sweat it." Driscoll glanced at Gredar and muttered, "Here we go."
Despite the captain's directive, all eyes were riveted on him, except for Curtis'. Adam closed his eyes in concentration, and stretched his hand forward, as though reaching for something. He clenched his fist, and then, frowning deeply, he slowly opened it.
In front of the anomaly, a wormhole opened, blossoming into existence like an exotic flower. But before anyone could admire its spectacular beauty, they entered it. The ship and the anomaly it was following were engulfed in the swirling, blue vortex.
And as soon as they were in it, they were out again, once more surrounded by a starfield. Ahead was a shining, blue planet, obviously class M.
"Captain," Mordock called out. Driscoll rose and turned to face the blue-skinned officer. "The anomaly has dissipated. The wormhole disrupted it, and it dispersed as soon as it exited the wormhole. I'm reading a great deal of debris, but no other anomalies."
A cheer erupted on the bridge, as Jacobs said, "Just in time, too. It almost hit Earth."
"Commander, that's not Earth," said Singh.
The bridge fell silent, and a second later, Mordock said, "Confirmed. That planet is not Earth. Furthermore, there is no record of it in our data banks."
"So where are we?" Jacobs asked.
"Not in the Milky Way Galaxy," Curtis replied. "I've got no navigational reference points."
A silence descended on the bridge. For a while, no one spoke. Then, Mordock announced, "I'm detecting weapons fire on the planet's surface."
"Onscreen," Gredar hissed. The image on the forward viewer changed from one of the planet to a close-up of the surface, where a giant robot resembling a multicolored Viking was battling a two-legged, four-armed, walrus-like beast.
Driscoll recognized the situation at once, and gaped. No, it can't be, he thought, but he knew that it was. He leaped from his seat. "Gredar, you have the ship," he announced as he hit his combadge. "Driscoll to shuttlebay, load Thunderwing with two photons and prepare for launch." The captain rushed from the bridge as Jacobs asked, "What the hell is going on?"