Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted by either Paramount or World Events Productions. What I do own are the crew of the Berlin (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter, Thunderwing, as well as the story itself.
This one's proving tougher to write than I thought, but I'll keep posting as often as I can. Thanks again to everyone who read and reviewed.
Star Tron: Escalations
Chapter 6: An Answer At Last
King Zarkon reviewed the report he'd just received with satisfaction. The scouting mission he'd sent into Federation space had managed to obtain excellent information on the location of several large Starfleet installations. The fortunes seemed to be favoring him.
Obtaining the data and scientists from the Alliance outpost had been critical to his plans. Now, with that accomplished, it was only a matter of time before he would be ready to strike. But now, patience was necessary. Everything would have to be perfect before he could act.
He looked up as Lotor entered the chamber. "You sent for me, Father?" the Prince asked.
"I did. How long has it been since we launched a robeast attack on Arus?"
"A little over a week, Father," said Lotor.
Zarkon nodded. "And as I recall, you met with a dismal failure."
Lotor choked back a stunned outburst. Yes, his last robeast attack had failed, but he thought Zarkon had moved on, like in all his previous setbacks. Why was he bringing it up again? Did his father hate him so much? Or had he simply run out of things to berate him about?
Before he could say anything, Zarkon continued. "It would seem that they are due for another attack. Lotor, I want you to increase the frequency of your attacks."
Lotor was perplexed. "Very well, Father, but do you really think that will work?"
"You have a better suggestion?" Zarkon challenged. When Lotor didn't reply, he said, "As I expected. Now leave me."
Lotor snapped to attention and pivoted on his heel, striding from the room, and muttering under his breath.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Captain Driscoll sat at a table in the Brauhoff Lounge, located on deck fifteen on the Berlin, sipping a tall, frosty glass of iced tea. The Brauhoff was a gathering place of sorts on the starship, where everyone could let their hair down. Ranks were checked at the door, as were all concerns for duty and responsibility. And after the tension of the past few days, it was exactly what the young captain needed.
He had been working on his plane with the help of Hunk and Pidge when Gredar had called and asked him to return to the ship. That's when he found out about the Doom fighter and its mysterious message.
In his mind, there was only one thing it could have been. It was transmitting intelligence data. The fighter had been on a recon mission, and the data it had gathered was now well on it's way to Zarkon.
For now, he'd ordered that the ship take position near the wormhole and stay there. If Zarkon had intelligence on the location of Starfleet installations, it stood to reason that an attack could come at any time. He'd sworn up one side and down the other to Nechayev that the Berlin could hold the wormhole, and he'd be damned if he let Zarkon or his sleaze of a son, Lotor make a liar out of him.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even see Lieutenant Curtis walk up until the young man asked, "This seat taken, Skipper?"
Driscoll looked up. "Oh, hi, Mike. No, not at all. Please," he said, gesturing to the chair opposite him. "And we're off duty. You can call me 'Adam'."
Curtis set down his drink and seated himself. "So how's the war wound?" the helmsman asked, nodding to Driscoll's sling-cradled arm.
"Feels okay. Can't wait for the Sheik to clear me for flight ops again," Driscoll replied.
"You just got your shoulder shot off, and you're still itching for combat? Man, that's incredible."
Driscoll scoffed. "Nah. I'm just too dumb to take a hint."
Curtis chuckled. "You said it, Adam, not me."
"Yeah, well, see that you don't, or you'll be my new strafing practice target, Mike," Adam said jokingly.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Driscoll smiled and drained his drink. "What about you, Mike? Anything you were ever too dumb to take a hint on?"
"Me? Well..." Curtis thought a moment. "Actually, yeah. There was this one time at the Academy, me and my roomie, Shane McInnis, were going to enter a boat race down in Baja over spring break. So, to practice, we took our boat, well, it was his boat, out on the bay. One time a storm was kicking up, but we thought we could finish our run and get in before it hit. Lordy me, were we wrong!"
"What happened?"
"The wind just changed direction real suddenly, and blew the boat to the side. It rocked so hard, it threw me right into the water. So there I am, in the water, Shane's tryin' to get the boat under control and come back for me, and the waves are kicking up, it's just crazy.
"Well, long story short, Shane managed to pick me up, and we got back to the dock, and banged up the boat pretty good to boot."
"But you went to the race, right?"
"Yep. And we came in dead last."
Driscoll laughed. "Yeah, that's definitely a hint not taken."
"Sure enough!"
"Well, lemme tell ya somethin', Mike," Driscoll began. Suddenly, his badge chirped. "Jacobs to Driscoll."
"Aw, dammit," Driscoll griped. He tapped the offending metal shard. "Go ahead."
"Sir, Coran just called up. He'd like to see you at the Castle of Lions."
"What about?"
"Don't know, sir."
Driscoll sighed heavily. "Okay, T.J. I'll have someone take me in a shuttle. We'll keep the ship here."
"Aye, sir. Jacobs out."
Driscoll slouched back in his chair. Well, he was going to go back and check on Hunk and Pidge anyway. "Wanna go for a ride, Mike?"
"Sure," Curtis replied. The two officers got up and headed for the shuttle bay, as Curtis called for the Scarecrow to be prepared for launch.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It was a short flight from the Berlin to Arus, and the shuttle was immediately granted landing clearance. Within moments of touching down in the castle's hangar bay, the two officers walked into the Control Room.
"About time you got here," said Lance. "Something happen to your leg, too?"
Driscoll glared at the grinning Red Lion pilot. "Keep it up, smartass."
"Oh, don't worry. I will."
"Children," Keith chided, "Can we get down to business?"
"Walked right into that, didn't I, Mike?" Driscoll asked.
"Yes, sir."
"So why are we here?" Driscoll asked.
"After you told us what you found at Tango Seven, I asked Coran to do some research," Keith explained.
"And he's got something?" Curtis asked.
"Yes, I do," Coran replied. "We knew that Space Station Tango Seven was a research station, and the boarding party from the Berlin found out that their research had something to do with minerals.
"According to the information I found, the facility was conducting research on ionized minerals. Specifically, the potential military applications for ionized minerals. Recently, they made a breakthrough with topaz, and have been focusing on that mineral."
"Well, that explains Zarkon's interest," said Pidge.
"Indeed," said Coran.
"But what about the topaz makes it so special?" Allura asked.
"According to the reports on file from Tango Seven, ionized topaz can affect DNA replication during cellular mitosis. Specifically, it causes aberrant recombinations which can alter the genome."
"Say what?" Hunk asked.
"It's a mutagen, Hunk," Pidge explained.
"Precisely," said Coran.
"So it's a biological weapon," said Lance.
Adam frowned in confusion. "Wait a second. Aren't biological weapons banned in the Alliance?"
"Yes, they are," said Keith. "The Alliance has abandoned all biological weapons research, and has signed several treaties which prohibits their development or use."
"Wait, so this was illegal research?" Curtis asked.
"It's hard to say. The report on the topaz was filed just two days before the attack. It may simply have been a chance discovery that they had no intention of pursuing," Coran said.
"Yeah, that's true," said Driscoll.
"But the point is, Zarkon has a new weapon," said Keith. "So we have to find a way to counter it."
"And that's where you come in, Captain," said Coran.
"What can I do?"
"Your ship is far better equipped to analyze this data and develop countermeasures than anything we have here on Arus," said Coran.
"Well, not as well equipped as we were," said Driscoll.
"The Berlin is still our best shot," said Keith.
Driscoll nodded. "I'll get my guys on it."
"Thank you," said Coran. "I'll forward the data to the ship."
"Right. Then I guess I'd better get up there and get this going."
Keith nodded. "If there's anything your people need, have them contact us."
"Will do," said Driscolll. He and Curtis then left the chamber, and were soon speeding back to the Berlin.