Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or any other material that is copyrighted by World Events Productions, Paramount, or anyone else. What I do own are the crew of the Berlin (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter Thunderwing, and the story itself.
Star Tron: EscalationsChapter 8: First Test
Thunderwing skimmed along the top of an intermittent cloud deck, 27,000 feet above the surface of Arus. The pre-dawn twilight afforded just enough light to see the clouds sailing by just outside the cockpit.
Looking out, Allura was enjoying the view. She was used to Blue Lion's boxy, cockpit, surrounded by instruments and controls. But this was very different, almost like sitting on top of the plane.
"So how ya liking it, Allura?" Adam asked from the front seat.
"This is incredible," said Allura. "The view is amazing."
"Well, it's about to get a whole lot better."
Allura peered around the side of Adam's seat and looked out over the long nose of the fighter. The sky ahead was turning reddish-gold as the sun rose. Behind them, she could still see stars.
Then, the sky erupted with light. The clouds just beneath them were tinted red, gold, and orange, with a few patches of white and gray. Ahead, the edge of the sun peeked over the cloud deck. To the north, a stack of thunderheads looked like a wall of fire in the sky. But far below, the ground was still shrouded in shadow. The beauty of the scene around her, combined with the steady roar of the engine was almost hypnotic. "Wow," she breathed.
Adam remained quiet, letting Allura concentrate on the scenery. Of course, he was enjoying it, too. He swerved a bit to pass between two thin cloud peaks, watching as the plane's contrails merged with the cloud tops as they curled in the Mustang's wake.
After flying into the rising sun for several minutes, Adam banked around and started back towards the castle. "So how was that?"
"Awesome," Allura replied. "Truly awesome. I had no idea how beautiful it was. The way the sun lit the clouds, the colors, everything. It was just inspiring."
"Yeah, it really is. And now you know why I like my morning hops so much."
"Yeah. I'll have to do this more often."
Adam was about to reply, when Coran's image appeared on the upper half of his windshield. "Captain, the Princess is missing."
Adam frowned. "No, she's not. She's with me."
"But Blue Lion..."
"No, I mean in Thunderwing. She's in the back seat, about two feet behind me." He glanced back at her. "Didn't you leave a note or something?"
"Yes, I did. Right on my nightstand," Allura replied.
Just then, Nanny's voluminous form replaced Coran on the screen. "You bring the Princess down here this instant," she demanded. "You have no right to take her anywhere in that rustbucket." She raised her voice. "Princess! Princess, are you there?"
"Yes, Nanny, I'm here."
"You come down right away. You know you shouldn't be alone with that hooligan. It is not proper. Why did you let him take you with him?"
"Nanny, I wanted to come. Besides, I'm sitting right behind Adam. I'm sure I'm safe."
"But still child, that plane is . . ."
"I am not a child, Nanny."
"Of course, dear girl, but please, you must come down now."
"No."
"What?"
"I said, 'no', Nanny. Adam invited me to fly with him this morning, and I accepted. I am his guest, and I'll be down when he's ready to land."
"I'm sure you're ready now, aren't you, Captain?"
Adam glanced at Allura in his rear view mirror and saw her shake her head. "Well, actually, no. I still have to test the repairs under combat g-loads and recalibrate the structural integrity and inertial dampening fields." He saw Allura flash him a grateful smile.
"No, not with the Princess aboard."
"Nanny," said Allura, "I am a fully qualified military pilot. This is nothing I can't handle."
"Princess..."
"Nanny, I think the Princess has made up her mind," said Driscoll. "So how about you clear the channel so I can get these tests done?"
"You hooligan! How dare you?"
"Like this," Adam said, closing the channel.
Allura smiled. "Thanks, Adam."
"Hey, what're wingmen for?"
"So what do you have to do?"
"I'll show you. Hang on!" he said as he turned on his rock music. With Alice Cooper's "School's Out" blasting in his headphones, he snap-rolled the plane into a corkscrew dive.
In Castle Control, Keith, Coran, and Nanny watched the fighter fall, then pull up at 10,000 feet and go into a maximum performance climb
Nanny turned to Keith. "Commander, you must stop this!"
"How?" Keith asked. "I can't use Black Lion, and since we're not in combat, Adam doesn't have to listen to me." In truth, he didn't want to do anything. Something had made Allura speak out and refuse an order from Nanny, which was a rare thing. And Keith supported that. She was the Princess of Arus, and she did have a right to her own life. It was nice to see her acting like it. And since she'd made the first move, he was free to support her in any way he wanted.
"Nanny," said Coran, "Captain Driscoll knows what he's doing. He's an excellent pilot, and he will not let the Princess be harmed."
Nanny huffed. "If anything happens to her, I will hold you responsible as well," she said as she turned on her heel and stormed out of the chamber.
Keith and Coran glanced at each other and rolled their eyes.
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Deep in the dungeons of Castle Doom, footsteps resounded in the dark, stone corridor. Six Alliance scientists, researchers from Tango Seven, looked toward the heavy, steel door of their cell as the footsteps approached and stopped. Several loud beeps and clanks resounded in the room as the door's electronic and physical locks were disengaged. The door swung open to reveal a tall figure flanked by four guards.
"On your feet," Lotor barked.
The scientists, too tired and weak to resist, did as they were told. Since their capture, they had not been treated well. The four men had been beaten several times, and their female companions had become favorites of the guards.
Lotor's four guards filed in past the prince, shackled the prisoners' hands, and marched them into the corridor, where they joined twenty or so other prisoners from Tango Seven.
The group was led out of the dungeon and through the castle to a small ship, where they were locked into a cargo bay, which had been modified with several large windows. Through the windows, they watched the ground fall away as they lifted off and flew away over the desolate landscape of Doom.
"Where do you suppose they're taking us, Dr. Andrews?" someone asked.
Andrews, the leader of the research team, was a tall, well-built, graying man of forty-eight. Once the star running back of his high school football team, he had suffered particularly harshly at the hands of Lotor's goons, and now required assistance just to walk across the chamber.
He looked out the windows, and saw a slave village in the distance. The village was really just a barracks for the nearby work camp, but the slaves called them villages all the same, because that was the closest thing they had to a home.
"It seems we're of no more particular use to these bozos," Andrews replied. "It looks like we're headed for that work camp."
The group watched quietly as the ship approached the village and hovered there. They wondered a moment why they weren't landing, then Lotor's voice came over the intercom.
"I'm sure you must be curious why I've brought you here. You have all worked very hard in your endeavors for the Alliance. So, I thought you'd enjoy seeing the fruits of your labor, as so many professionals of your caliber do."
Looking down, the prisoners could see the slaves below them, moving among the buildings, always under the watchful eyes of the guards.
"Lotor, please," said Andrews, grasping Lotor's meaning. "These people are no threat to you. They've suffered enough. Don't put them through a terrible death by mutation."
"Why, Dr. Andrews," said Lotor, "Have you no idea what you've discovered?"
Andrews was silent.
"Then observe."
As the reverberation of Lotor's voice faded from the chamber, the ship fired a single missile at the center of the camp. The scientists watched helplessly as it struck and detonated.
When the dust cleared, the carnage they saw below was incredible. Some cried, while others just looked on in shocked silence. Men, women, and children, slaves and guards alike, all were dead.
My God, what have I done? Andrews asked himself as the ship turned and headed back to the castle.
"The first test is a success, Sire," said Haggar. She and the King of Doom had observed the test from her laboratory near Castle Doom.
Zarkon nodded. "Indeed. Most impressive. I wish Lotor hadn't used that particular camp, though. That sector's mining equipment was just refitted last month."
"Yes, a pity, Sire," said Haggar
"Still," the King continued. "The weapon may be just what we need to defeat the Alliance and the Federation."
"And Voltron, My Lord," said Haggar. "And don't forget, this is just he vanguard of what is to come."
"Yes. Now, speaking of Voltron, when will your next robeast be ready?"
"Very soon, Sire. Very soon."
"Excellent. Then I won't keep you from your work."
Haggar nodded as Zarkon left the chamber. Now alone, Haggar entertained her own thoughts. Yes, these new weapons, these gifts of science, were wonderful. Perhaps too successful. If Zarkon was finally able to conquer the Alliance and the Federation, and at last achieved his dreams of conquest, what place would she have? Even now that he had his wonder weapons, would he still look to her for her magic? Would she still be the indispensable element of his plans that she had always been, or would her power and influence wane as his technology grew?
The old witch pondered these questions as she worked on her latest creation, and she felt a renewed zeal for her task. This must be the robeast that destroyed Voltron. No other outcome would do.