Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted by either the NFL, Paramount or World Events Productions. What are mine are the crew of the Berlin (except Mordock and Scotty) and the fighter Thunderwing, as well as the story itself.
And thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially RL2 and Crash77A. Every Ace needs a few good wingmen. Thanks guys.
Star Tron: Escalations
Chapter 5: Mechanics and Mechanations
The Voltron Force waited in the corridor outside the Berlin's sickbay while Dr. Saladin treated Captain Driscoll. Keith had notified the ship of Adam's mishap, and they had immediately moved from the wormhole to Arus. It proved to be a very good thing, as the captain lost consciousness just after landing.
A few minutes later, Dr. Saladin called them in. Commander Gredar arrived a moment later. Looking around, they saw Adam lying on a biobed near the back of the room.
"What's the prognosis, Doc?" Keith asked.
"He sustained a shrapnel wound in his shoulder, and lost a lot of blood flying back to the palace. I am going to keep him here for a day, and then I shall release him."
"When will he return to duty?" Gredar asked.
"He should be fit for duty tomorrow, but no flying."
"No flying?" Keith asked.
"He is grounded for three days," Saladin said with a nod. "After that, I will reexamine him, and if he is ready, he can return to flight duty with you."
Keith scowled. Not good. But there was nothing to be done. If Saladin said that Adam couldn't fly, that was it.
"Okay. Well, maybe we should get back then," said Lance. "There's nothing we can do." He spoke more to bring Keith out of his reverie than anything else. Left to his own devices, Keith's train of though could last for hours.
"Yeah. Good idea, Lance," said Keith.
"You'll call us when he's up?" Allura asked.
"Of course, Your Highness," Saladin replied.
"Thank you," said Allura. The group filed out of sickbay, and Gredar escorted them to the transporter room.
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That afternoon, Hunk and Pidge went about repairing the damage the Lions had sustained. Green Lion had suffered some laser burns and blown circuits, and Red Lion had taken a few missile hits. Nothing significant. Still, it would take them most of the day to repair, given the size and complexity of the Lions, which they were just beginning to truly understand.
Near the Lions, on the other side of the bay, sat Thunderwing, crippled, a ragged, charred hole in the starboard side of her fuselage, the pilot's seat stained with blood. And so she would remain for three more days, until Adam could see to her.
The two technicians were just finishing Red Lion when Keith walked in. The commander looked around, then asked, "Done with the repairs?"
"Yep. All set," said Hunk. "I was about to call Lance and have him take Red back to the volcano."
Keith nodded, looking over the Lions approvingly. Finally, his gaze settled upon the gelded Mustang. "What about that?"
Hunk looked at the fighter. "Thunderwing? I don't know. It looks pretty bad, but I'm sure Adam can handle it."
"In three days."
"Yeah, if Dr. Saladin lets him off then," said Pidge.
Keith realized that Pidge had a good point. Adam probably wouldn't be up to working on the plane for three days, until his shoulder healed fully. And judging by the damage, there was probably at least two days work to be done. That would mean that Thunderwing would be out of action for at least a full week. Unacceptable.
"Hunk, do you think you could do something with it?" Keith asked.
Hunk looked at Keith skeptically. "Well, if you remember, the last time I tried I got slugged for my trouble."
"Hunk, I just want to know if you can fix the plane."
The three pilots looked over the plane, particularly the damaged area. Hunk sighed and shook his head. "I can patch it up, but I can't do anything else with it without the specs, or at least some parts."
Keith nodded. "Hunk, I want you and Pidge to work on Thunderwing. We can't wait for Adam to do it all."
Pidge and Hunk nodded. "Right, Keith," said Pidge. "We'll do what we can."
"We'll get on it first thing tomorrow."
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The next morning, Lion practice was short as the team rehearsed aerial combat maneuvers. The surprise attack the day before had put them all on edge, and Keith was determined not to let it happen again. The Force had become complacent, always expecting the starship above to detect raids in time for them to assemble a defense. In response, Doom ships had approached Arus on less direct routes, keeping something between themselves and the Berlin as much as possible. So Keith had decided to begin stressing vigilance in the air, and heightened attentiveness to the sensors.
But practice went smoothly, with no unpleasant surprises. After breakfast, the team split up. Allura went to a meeting with Coran and some politicians from nearby towns, Keith had some reports to send to the Garrison, Lance was on watch, and Pidge and Hunk had an injured bird to heal.
The project started smoothly enough. It wasn't difficult to remove the damaged panels and make new ones, or to clean the fabric on the pilot's seat. Once that was done, they started on the really tough work.
When Thunderwing was hit, a power coupling ruptured and overloaded a control panel, causing it to blow shrapnel all around the back of the cockpit, tearing up the jump seat and the rear cockpit gear. Adam had been very lucky. If not for the armor plate behind his seat, he probably would have been killed.
It took them almost two hours to figure out how to remove the jumpseat, oxygen gear, and other damaged components from the back of the cockpit. Hunk was just finishing up removing the last of the damaged parts when he heard a voice behind him say, "What'd I tell you about working on my plane?"
Hunk stopped working and turned around, ready to block a punch. Adam stood there behind him, wearing a pair of black jeans and a blue Buffalo Bills T- shirt. His right arm was in a sling, and in his left, he held a PADD. "Listen, Adam, Keith said..."
"I know, Hunk. Keith told me all about it. I'm not going to hit you. And I'm sorry about the last time. I lost my cool. Anyway, I appreciate the help right now." He nodded down to his arm. "I'm not exactly in the best shape to be working on her myself."
"I'll say," said Pidge, looking over the cockpit at the two from the far side of the plane.
"But I do intend to look over your shoulders while you do this," Adam added. "And Keith also said you'd need these," he held up the PADD. "These are all the specs on Thunderwing. Complete design history, armament and maintenance manuals, the whole enchilada." He held it out to Hunk. "Thought it'd help you out."
Hunk took it and looked it over, letting out an appreciative whistle. "'Whole enchilada' is right. I could build one of these with this information."
"Yeah, you could. So don't let it out of your sight. If Zarkon's boys got their hands on this, you'd be fighting Mustangs instead of Stingers."
"And that sure wouldn't be a good thing," said Pidge.
"Right. So, keep it to yourselves."
"Will do, Captain," said Hunk.
Adam nodded. "Okay, so where are we?"
Hunk brought Adam up to speed on what they'd done, answering a few questions that the captain had for them, and then the three men set to work rebuilding the fighter's rear cockpit.
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First Officer's Log, stardate 51379.7: With the Captain on medical leave, I have assumed temporary command of the Berlin. For the time being, we will remain in orbit of Arus, and monitor the wormhole from out current position. Recent communications from Starfleet indicate that the first parts of our base station will be arriving in the next few weeks.
Gredar deactivated the log recording and settled back in his chair. As usual, his entry was short, specific and to the point. He, like most Gorn, did not mince words. The bridge, usually a hub of activity, was almost deserted. Only tactical, helm, and ops were manned.
With so few people on the bridge, it was very quiet, as it should be. When the Captain was on duty, there was a constant, low buzz of conversation. It didn't seem to affect performance at all, and indeed it was the Captain who instigated some of it, but still, the Gorn didn't approve. The bridge was not a place for socialization. But then again, these humans were a strangely gregarious species. It was just another part of human nature he did not understand.
But he was beginning to. He had to, otherwise he'd never get any farther. Unlike some other exchange officers, he had not come to Starfleet looking to improve himself of broaden his horizons. It was his last option, other than face a disgraceful fall from favor.
At first, he hated it, and nearly went home. But then, his reputation grew, and he became known for his efficiency and skill, and opportunities opened for him. There had been struggles, certainly, but he overcame them. Starfleet became his life, like the Royal Gorn Navy had been before.
His train of thought was interrupted by the lieutenant at tactical. "Commander?"
"Yes?"
"I'm detecting some activity at the wormhole."
Gredar rose from his seat. "Visual," he rasped. On the screen, an image of the wormhole appeared as it bloomed open, and a small ship came through.
"Doom fighter, sir," the lieutenant reported.
"Yellow alert. Mr. Curtis, pursue."
"Aye, sir."
The starship surged forward as amber lights flashed on across the bridge. As she gained on the lone fighter, the rest of the senior staff trickled in and took their posts.
"Order them to surrender," said Gredar.
"Aye, sir," Jacobs replied, sending the ultimatum.
Aboard the Doom fighter, the pilot heard the Berlin's demands and scoffed. They don't know they've already lost, he thought. His mission was nearly complete. All he had to do was make one final transmission.
"Transmission from the fighter, sir. Unable to intercept," Singh reported.
"Stand-by phasers," said Gredar.
The starship closed in on the fighter, which had accelerated to its maximum speed, trying to escape. But it was no match for the power of the massive starship.
"Audio," Gredar commanded.
Jacobs punched a series of commands into her board to tie into the fighter's comm system. "Go ahead, sir."
"This is your final warning," said Gredar. "Surrender immediately, or you will be destroyed."
There was no response from the Doom fighter. Instead, it wheeled around and zoomed straight at the starship, weapons blazing.
"Fire," said Gredar.
A single, ruby red beam lanced out from the starship, catching the fighter head-on and destroying it in a fiery cascade. With the enemy gone, Gredar ordered the alert cancelled, and the ship turned back for Arus. But what had the ship transmitted? He didn't know, but his instincts told him that that transmission was not to be ignored.
The Gorn rose from his seat and headed for the starboard turbolift. He needed to share this with the Captain.