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Star Tron: Louder Than Words Chapter 3: Evaluation
"So Doom wants to make a deal," said Nechayev.
"Yes, ma'am, or so they say," Driscoll replied. He was in his ready room, speaking with the Admiral on a subspace link. Her face filled most of the small screen on his desk. He had just finished telling the admiral about the encounter with Lotor, and was seeking her opinion on how to handle the matter. "So how do you want this handled?"
"His offer is interesting. You know that some of those robeasts could be helpful," Nechayev said thoughtfully.
"With all due respect, Admiral, what makes you think he wouldn't turn on us later, once we had enough of them in the Federation to do some damage? I wouldn't trust these blue morons. Hell, I'd rather have a Ferengi watching by back."
"Maybe so, but we can't ignore his offer. Or his threat."
"Admiral, if we join with Doom, how long do you think it'd be before they started demanding more of us? Ships, people, equipment, where would it end? Zarkon and Lotor know they can't beat us, so they want us on their side, and if we do that, you can bet we'll end up fighting the Alliance."
"If they know they can't beat us, then why would they threaten us?" Nechayev asked knowingly.
Driscoll rose to her challenge. She wanted him to make a case, and he was more than willing. "Admiral, that's their whole M-O. Fear is as important a tactic as military force. That, and they know we don't want to fight. They're hoping to scare us into negotiating. They're trying to terrorize us into siding with them, and last I checked, the Federation don't negotiate with terrorists.
"Admiral, you've seen their way of doing things. From their own records no less. They take what they want by any means necessary, and any sort of resistance is met with overwhelming force of arms. They loot, kill, and destroy for any reason, or none at all. They are the complete opposite of the Federation. They go against everything we stand for. Even considering their proposal is a waste of time, and way hypocritical."
"That's not for you to decide, Captain. You know we're short of ships and people. The Dominion and the Cardassians are tying up most of our resources. We could use the help."
"But not their help. Ma'am, I've seen the destruction they cause. Their robeasts make it a point to trample villages and everything else in their path. These people use slave labor like Nazi camps, and they have no allies. Only subjugated worlds that serve them.
"We have other allies, Admiral. The Klingons will support us. So will the Gorn. Maybe even the Romulans, I don't know. But I'm telling you, they are not a threat to us. Turn them down."
"Are you telling me what to do?" Nechayev asked with a warning in her tone.
"No, ma'am. I'll follow whatever orders come to me. But I'm asking you to consider carefully. We have nothing to gain by joining with them, and nothing to lose by telling them where to get off."
"What about your negotiations? Is the Alliance going to give us the starbases?"
Driscoll faltered a moment. His promise to deliver an agreement for starbases and shipyards in the Alliance was all that kept him on the Berlin's bridge, and out of the brig.
"I don't know," he replied finally. "It's getting tricky. They want some type of military help from us, and I think they're going to deny us the bases until they get it. But they're not making specific demands. They want help, but what and how much is up to us. We've got the next move."
"Do you think it's falling apart?"
"No. The humanitarian aid is still welcome, and they don't want to lose that, but it's not enough to get all that we want. They've granted us free passage and access to their installations, but I don't think we're gonna get the starbases unless we agree to help them fight Doom."
Nechayev propped her arms up on her desk and cradled her chin on her clenched fists. She was silent for several minutes, deep in thought, staring at Driscoll for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she asked, "Either way, we're heading for a war, aren't we?"
Driscoll nodded. "I think so."
"Can
we avoid it?"
"Yeah, if we retreat and close the wormhole. But that wouldn't help anyone. Not the Alliance, and not us." Driscoll leaned closer to his screen. "Admiral, the Federation has been fence-sitting long enough. Now we're being called out, and it's time to commit one way or the other. As they say in my time, put up or shut up. "
"You're forgetting yourself again, Driscoll."
"Ma'am, the Federation has been threatened, bribed, coerced, fooled, and cajoled in the past, but we've always stuck to the moral high ground, ya know? Practiced what we preached. But we can't avoid a war with Doom and stay true to our ideals. If we sign any treaties, we'll have to enter the Drule War. If it's more important to avoid a war, you might as well issue our recall right now."
Nechayev studied Driscoll a moment. There was something in the captain's face that made her believe that he truly meant every word he said. "Captain, do you really think you could defend that wormhole if Doom went to war with us?"
"Yes, ma'am. And the Voltron Force would help us. You have my guarantee that no Doom warship will ever threaten the Federation."
Nechayev nodded. "I'll have to submit this to the Diplomatic Corps and the Federation Council. Until then, you are to carry on as ordered."
Driscoll nodded. "Aye, aye."
"Nechayev out."
Driscoll turned off his terminal and flopped back in his chair. He knew it would be a while before any decision came through. Until then, it was business as usual.
After hearing the audio feed from the Berlin's encounter with Lotor, Keith, Allura, and Coran had retired to the conference room to discuss the possible ramifications. Two hours later, Allura left to get ready for her dogfighting practice.
Overall, the general consensus had been one of confidence in the Berlin and her crew, but that sentiment did not hold for the Federation itself. It was no secret that the Doom military was stronger than the Alliance overall, and if the Federation were looking for assistance in their war, then Doom would be the stronger ally. Keith and Coran were genuinely concerned that the negotiations would soon fall apart.
But Allura was more optimistic. She trusted Captain Driscoll, and she knew where he stood. He had seen first hand what Doom had done to her planet, and she knew his sympathy and assistance could still be counted on.
She suited up and went to the Control Room to board her Lion. As she entered the chamber, Lance looked up from the main board. "Where're you headed, Princess?"
"Going up. Adam's going to run through some dogfighting tactics with me."
"You clear this with Keith?"
"He's my flight commander, not my father."
Lance nodded approvingly, raising the platform. "Girl's learning. Have fun."
Allura nodded.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"Like what?" Allura tossed back as she disappeared into the launch tube.
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When Allura got up to altitude, she found herself alone in the vast blue expanse of the Arusian sky. Whenever she looked down on the rolling, green countryside below her, she found it hard to believe that her planet had been decimated in a rather one-sided war.
Skirting the edge of a cloud, she turned north, and was just leveling out on course when an alarm rang out. Before she could act, a small craft raced by her, narrowly missing her on the left. She turned hard to port as a voice filled her cockpit.
"Bet that woke ya up!"
"What…Adam? What was that?" Allura stammered, recovering from the surprise.
"Lesson number one: Keep your head on a swivel. Never let your guard down, especially when you're flying solo. If I'd been a Doom fighter, you'd be a flaming pile of scrap five miles down," Driscoll said as Thunderwing formed up with Blue Lion.
"Okay, point taken. So where do we begin?"
"After seeing your reaction to my buzz job, I think we'll open with evasive maneuvers. Breaking, jinking, split-s, etcetera."
"All right."
"One thing I've noticed is that Doom fighters like to use boom-and-zoom tactics. They come in from altitude, strike, then use power and momentum to climb out. The best way to evade is with a turn, because they can't turn for shit. So, I'll play the part of the enemy fighter, and let's see how you do."
"Right. Ready when you are."
Driscoll turned into the cloud. "I'm moving into position. Keep an eye out, 'cause I'm not going to warn you when I attack."
"Copy that."
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The pair spent three hours working on maneuvers. By the end of the practice, Allura was able to evade Driscoll's attacks eighty percent of the time. Also, she had taken the initiative and begun counter-attacking after the evasion, which impressed the captain.
So, as the sun sank into the west, Driscoll formed up with Allura. "Okay, Allura. That was good, but I think that's enough for today."
"All right. I'll see you at dinner." Allura twisted the control handles, and Blue Lion turned away from the Mustang and headed for the Castle of Lions. It took her only a few minutes to land in the moat and return to Castle Control.
"You looked good up there, Allura," Keith said as she emerged from her launch tube.
Allura looked up at him as the launch tubes retracted into the floor, lowering the main console. He had the chair turned sideways, watching her. She pulled off her helmet, and for a moment, she saw something in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, and she wondered if she imagined it.
"Are you sure practice is over?"
A look of confusion crossed Allura's face. "He said so. Why?"
"Because he's still up there," Keith replied, nodding at the console.
Allura came up behind him and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, Allura saw Thunderwing on the sensors, circling just above the cloud tops.
As Allura studied the display, Keith was studying Allura. She was close enough that he could smell the scent of her shampoo, could see every strand of hair. Her presence was intoxicating to him.
He shook himself out of it. Get ahold of yourself. She's off-limits. End of story. He had made that rule with the others when they first got to Arus. And as commander, he of all people had to uphold it.
But damn, it was hard.
"Keith, are you all right?"
Keith looked at Allura, who was studying him intently, her concern showing in her eyes. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Just wondering why he's doing that," he said, pointing absently at the image of the P-51.
Allura nodded. "Me, too. Come to think of it, we really don't know anything about him, do we? In almost a month, he's never told us a thing about himself."
"Well, we know he's the commanding officer of the Federation starship Berlin, he flies a P-51 Mustang, he can travel between dimensions, and he's older than Pidge, but younger than me."
"He's younger than you? I never knew that."
"Well, I think he is, at least."
Allura chuckled. "I thought you only dealt with facts."
"When they're available. Sometimes an educated guess is all I've got."
Allura nodded. "Well, we'll see if we can do more than guess about Adam at dinner."
Keith
frowned. "What?"
"Just leave it to me. I'll see you later." Allura turned and walked out of the Control Room, leaving Keith to wonder what she had in mind for their friend at dinner.