Winning Days

Book III: There's No Other Way, Part II

By Purrsia Kat

In the crowded sick bay aboard Nerok's command ship, Keira sat with the soldier she'd helped, while Nerok himself took stock of the injured. She wanted to help, and offering even her limited nursing skills was better than sitting in her quarters doing nothing. From what she understood, they needed to refuel and drop off the injured in exchange for fresh troops before they could be ready to fight the Alliance again. She was glad the Alliance seemed to be in the same situation and that there was some reprieve from all the fighting. But she also had the feeling this was merely the eye of the storm.

When Nerok came around to where they sat, Keira was sure he'd select Sandu as one of the men to release on leave to give the lad time to heal. To her surprise, Nerok gave the young soldier a cold once-over before simply stating, "You're staying."

She blinked, as if she was sure she hasn't heard correctly – less injured men were granted a leave, after all. Keira then looked to Sandu, who merely sat unmoving on his cot, his eyes blazing with what Keira would almost swear was a searing hatred for Nerok. She could definitely sense a tension between the two Drules and it made the hairs on her neck stand on end.

She'd no idea what got into her, but she felt compelled to speak up. "Pardon my intrusion, sir, but this man has quite a serious leg injury. I think he should be allowed to rest with the others."

Keira recoiled when Nerok fixed his glare on her and immediately regretted saying a thing. However, with effort his expression morphed into one of infinite kindness and patience. "I appreciate your – expert advice, but Sandu is very valuable and capable. We need him."

Keira offered a weak smile, still quite uneasy seeing the Drule commander in such a mood.

"Right, Sandu?" Nerok continued, turning his stare on the soldier who still would not look up at his commanding officer.

"Yes, sir," was all the man mumbled as a response.

Keira frowned as she watched Nerok move on to the other men in the infirmary. She didn't know what just went on, but she planned to grill Sandu about it when she had a chance!

Meanwhile on the Explorer, the three team leaders sat before the desk in Commander Hawkins' office quarters. Cric was seated on one end, looking worn and beaten, Jeff sat in the middle studying Hawkins curiously, and Cliff sat on the other side of him with his arms crossed defensively with an angry expression to match.

Hawkins surveyed the men in charge of his exploration unit and fought the urge to sigh heavily. Cric, for one, was not handling the task of leading all the teams very well. Perhaps he should have known it would be too stressful for a man as tuned in to things as Cric. Their mission couldn't be any more off track at the moment. He had to motivate these men by giving them hope and a clear directive. Morale was always so important at times such as these and Hawkins could tell he had his work cut out for him in that arena when it came to this trio. The events of the last 24 hours couldn't have shaken them more. He had to choose his words carefully.

"Men," he began from his seat behind the desk, which was still strewn with paperwork and no doubt, an even greater back log of those form letters to let anxious mothers back on Earth and other Alliance planets know that their worst fears were realized thanks to the last bloody battle. "First I'd like to commend you on the recovery of Ginger's ship." Hawkins shot Cliff a warning glare when he could tell a protest was on the man's tongue, before he continued. "All units of Voltron that were damaged in the last battle are being worked on around the clock and should be good as new in no time."

He looked pointedly at Cliff and went on. "I know that's probably the least of your worries. I know you're concerned for your hurt teammates. But you all did what you had to do and I'm proud of you. Sometimes you have to risk a few to save the many. And it's never an easy decision, I know." He looked to Cric with reassurance when he spoke that last bit, though Cric seemed as though he hadn't noticed. "The good news is, Lisa is recovering and should be fine with time to heal. Hutch is still touch and go, but I think he'll make it." Hawkins knew the last part was more or less a lie. He actually thought quite the opposite, but there was no good in saying so. Give them hope, he told himself, and pray for a miracle that would save Hutch.

Cliff grunted and muttered at that remark, which earned him an elbow in the side courtesy of Jeff. Hawkins cleared his throat as a warning and rose to his feet. "When we were all called together on this exploration mission, we were told we could meet up with unknown or hostile forces throughout the journey and so we were also trained in combat and given Voltron to give us a fighting chance. This constant Drule threat and bombardment was more than any of us bargained for, I'm sure. It certainly has delayed our efforts to find a new world. I'm sure the Galaxy Alliance wouldn't still have us out here if they didn't think that mission was still of utter importance."

It was Jeff's turn to get agitated. "Then why don't we just take care of 'em once and for all, sir? We always wait to be attacked. Let's just –"

Hawkins would have none of it, and interrupted the Air Team leader. "You know why, Jeff. We're an exploration unit first, and a defensive unit second. We don't go around the universe picking fights."

Jeff leapt to his feet to meet Hawkins on the level. "That's just it, sir. They started it. Now let's finish it."

"That's the most sensible thing I ever heard you say," Cliff chimed in. Cric merely sighed and shook his head sadly.

"Jeff…" Hawkins said, his voice full of warning for the young officer not to push it.

"Well, can we at least start by finding the rat on our own ship?" Jeff asked bluntly. He chucked the device that came off Ginger's ship onto Hawkins' desk. "Maybe that'll give you some clues. It came from under the console on Ginger's ship which I figure is how the Drule's got control of it and Keira got away."

"I'm not having this discussion with you here, Jeff." Hawkins' tone was one of more than just warning, it was of the end-of-discussion variety. "Sit down."

Jeff sank back into his seat, looking beyond baffled. Hawkins wished he could explain why, but for now the boys would have to remain a little in the dark. He wasn't sure his talk had done a shred of good, but it would have to do.

"You're dismissed," he told the trio. As they filed out, he sank back into his chair and surveyed his desk with a weary set of eyes. They rested on the item Jeff had left, and Hawkins picked it up to get a closer look. Perhaps this would be the key to finding the spy.

Tucked away on a desolate and distant satellite, Hazar walked the halls of his new home. It was full of the tastes of home he was accustomed to – except when he looked out the window at the forbidden landscapes and the constant rain of space debris that rained down on the little moon. This was why his people had built the outpost into the side of a mountain – it would take a substantial and precise meteor strike to take it out. Though there was little doubt in Hazar's mind that the Supreme Council would love for the odds to play out on that, at least now that he was exiled there.

He could hear the footfalls of his sister close behind, and he wished she'd never come along. This wasn't her fight. He veered off into a comfortable looking lounge and hoped to rest his mind – and maybe stop obsessing about what might be happening on Drule – but it seemed Dorma wanted to talk. She'd been quiet and pensive on the flight over, so he supposed this was inevitable. He just wished it didn't have to be right now.

"Hazar…" She spoke his name softly, gently.

He turned and really looked at her for the first time since their rushed departure and noticed the mark on her cheek which had bruised into a dark, ugly blue, with old blood dried around it.

"Wha –?" his voice cut off, choked back by the anger in realizing where a mark like that would come from.

Dorma looked a bit shocked for a moment, but soon her hand flew up to her face to cover the offending bruise.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded. Hazar stood before her, gently moving her hand out of the way. His scowl deepened. The Drules were not without their honor, and any man or soldier who would strike a woman so was the lowest creature.

Dorma sighed, resigned. "Throk," she said flatly.

Hazar wasn't all that surprised but the sound of that man's name only stoked his burning hatred. He was taken aback by the look of sheer deviousness that crossed Dorma's face.

"Don't worry," she almost purred. "He'll get his."

He didn't like it when Dorma talked that way. Sometimes she was too headstrong for her own good and he feared she would wind up worse than in exile one day for crossing the wrong Drule. "Dorma, I—"

Before the conversation could go any further, Captain Twila entered the room without notice or introduction. "There you are," she announced. "I saw your fleet come in."

The petite, attractive Drule Captain – one of few females to rise to such ranks in the Drule military – had deceptive stature. She, as he well knew, was tougher than most of her male peers. He wondered what she was doing on Dreska. He doubted she'd make the trip just to gloat about his demotion. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on my way back from a little acquisition mission – which was a success, I might add," she began.

Dorma looked skeptical. "So when can we start moving our people to their new world?" Her tone was laced with sarcasm, and judging by the snarl that curled Twila's lip, hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Not quite, honey. But we'll have plenty of fuel for ships and robeasts. Not so good for living, but great for strip mining – and captured by yours truly."

Dorma snorted with derision. "I'm sure that'll be a great comfort to our starving and desperate people as they burn in the hellfire of our dying world."

Twila took a few rapid and threatening steps toward Dorma. "I'm sure all your making nice with the Alliance has gotten them a new world. Oh wait – it hasn't!"

Hazar sensed the coming catfight and decided it best to step in. "Ladies, let's not fight among ourselves. You still haven't answered my question, Twila. What brings you out here to Dreska?"

Twila backed down, but both women were still visibly agitated. "Repair and restock. I've orders to be in charge of the second wave to support Nerok's next attack on the Alliance. I hear they really have them by the balls. One member of the Voltron Force is as good as dead, so one more strike ought to rid us of those pests for good."

Dorma gasped, but Hazar silently watched as Twila turned on her heel and left. She paused near the door, glancing back over her shoulder as she spoke. "It's too bad you had to take the peace crap so seriously Hazar. We could have shared this glory together."

Hazar felt his jaw tighten but said nothing until she was gone. A silence fell in the room until finally he broke it with a shocking statement of his own. "Perhaps she's right. Maybe it would have been better just to help them get rid of the Alliance so we can all concentrate on what's really important."

How furious Dorma looked struck him. "You can't waffle now. If you don't believe in the cause, who'll follow you?"

"Follow me?" Hazar echoed. "Please, Dorma, tell me where these masses are that are ready to make peace? I pretty sure all of them are standing in this room."

Dorma moved close to him and lowered her voice. "More than you think agree with you, Hazar. There're rumors of a rebellion-"

"No!" Hazar interrupted sharply. "No matter what, you know I don't believe that's ever the way to bring change, Dorma. Treason against the Empire is punishable by death and as a man of honor I can't be a part of that. If such a thing were to fail, the amount of blood that would be on my hands is intolerable. I will not lead them like sheep to slaughter. There has to be another way."

"There is no other way," Dorma pleaded in desperation. "You tried your way and look where it got you. Those animals can't be reasoned with, so they must be dealt with. They all think the Alliance is the enemy, but wake up Hazar. Our leadership is our own worst enemy."

Hazar shook his head vehemently. "Yet, I am still alive another day to try again. I don't want to hear any more about it Dorma. Now let me be," he added before storming out of the lounge.

As Nerok's fleet neared another moon where the Drules had a supply base, Keira waited patiently in her quarters. She'd long since shed the Alliance uniform she'd arrived in and was once again in the lovely dress she'd taken just before her world fell apart. She wondered as she watched the moon loom closer out the window, if the Drules would help her find the other survivors – and hopefully before the Alliance did. She also hoped they'd drop her off here. She longed to trek on solid ground and she certainly didn't want to be around when another battle broke out.

A Drule with a food tray entering her room took her attention from her thoughts. She recognized him immediately as the one who called himself Sandu. Keira rushed to him, as it was difficult for him to limp along and balance the tray simultaneously, and she again marveled at Nerok's decision not to let this soldier rest.

"Let me get that for you," she offered.

He smiled half-heartedly in return. "Thank you," he muttered before turning to leave.

"Wait," Keira called, stopping him though he didn't look at her. "I wanted to talk to you." She sat the tray down on a nearby desk before coming around so that she stood before the young man. She studied his brooding face for a long moment before continuing. "I'm worried about that leg," she said, gesturing to the bandaged appendage. "I don't know how he expects you to fight like that."

Slowly, Sandu looked up from the floor to meet her gaze. "Why do you care?" he finally asked, flatly.

Keira was baffled the man would take caring as a puzzling emotion to show. "Your people," she explained, "saved me from the Alliance after they destroyed my people's planet and nearly everyone with it. They tried to help us and now I'd like to help you if I can. It's the least I can do."

Sandu blinked, as if he were confused. "W-where are you from again?"

"Rilo," she answered. "Were you a part of the operation that tried defending it?"

Sandu's eyes grew wide and she swore she saw something akin to terror in them. "I – I have to go," he blurted, but his injury kept him from going fast enough for her to not get in his way.

Keira's pulse quickened as she stood between him and the door. This was strange and nothing about this conversation was making any sense to her but her gut twisted as if she knew something was terribly wrong. "Wait, what do you know? Please tell me!"

"Lady, just get yourself out of here," he said, his voice thin with fear. "You've been lied to. You were better off with the Alliance. I know I was."

Keira's jaw dropped and her mind reeled. After the initial shock wore off, anger took its place. He was the liar. Why, she saw with her own eyes how the Drules came to help her people prepare for the Alliance's inevitable invasion and how that giant robot tore her planet to ribbons. She was on their ship, suffering their insincere gestures of kindness and if not for the help of the one person on that ship who had the courage to warn her about what they were really up to, she'd never have escaped! She was lucky to leave with her life.

Sandu tried to push past her, but Keira moved to halt him again. "Lady, let me past. If I'm not back at my post soon…"

"No, wait. What are you talking about? You know something about Rilo. Tell me!" she demanded.

Sandu grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her a bit. "Don't you get it? Nerok planned the whole thing out to make you think the Alliance are the bad guys. But I can tell you they're not. I didn't believe it until I was captured by them and saw who they really are and what they're really after. There's a lot of corruption and propaganda in this Empire, so believe me, I understand how easy it is to be taken in and get confused. But do yourself a favor and get away from Nerok and his whole sick crew. He's the worst of the bunch."

Keira broke away from his grip and took a few fearful steps backward. She still couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You lie! If it's so awful here why are you still around? Why didn't you stay with the Alliance, then?"

"Because, I was hunted down like an animal by my own people, shot down, dragged back to a prison camp for 'fraternizing with the enemy' and when they were desperate for warm bodies to fly their planes in this stupid war, I got 'invited' back into the war machine. If I defect or refuse orders, anybody I care about back home pays the price. Any more questions?"

Keira wanted to speak, but her voice and her thoughts failed her. She stumbled back another step or two and barely noticed as Sandu gimped past her and out the door.

She didn't know how long she stood there looking shell shocked, but her mind just couldn't believe what he said was true. Because if it was, she couldn't live with herself for what she'd done.

Days had passed with no real improvement in Hutch's condition. Jeff was once again making his rounds to visit him and Lisa. She at least was doing much better although there was still a lot of pain to work through. When he arrived, she was sleeping peacefully. The rhythmic cadence of the vent across the room keeping breath in Hutch's lungs was the only sound.

He took a seat beside her bed, and gently cupped his hand over one of hers. She stirred a little, but went on with her slumber. He tried not to worry too much about Hutch or when the next inevitable attack would be, and sitting with Lisa helped ease his mind somehow. As if knowing she'd be okay gave him enough hope to get through the day.

Glancing across the room, he noticed Marvin slumped in a chair on the other side of Hutch's bed and he appeared to be sleeping. It was no surprise that Marvin was such a fixture at Hutch's side. The two were teammates and best friends. Cliff liked to joke that Marvin was the only one on the force who could stand Hutch for more than five minutes, and it may be true. Regardless, the influx of visitors and well wishes for his recovery was a testament to the tight knit team they were, personal differences aside.

Commander Hawkins entering the room broke Jeff from his thoughts. "There you are," Hawkins commented, keeping his voice low as not to disturb Lisa. "I thought I might find her here."

Jeff quickly stood, more than a little self-conscious about the affectionate way which he'd been holding Lisa's hand. He tried to play it off as casual as possible without getting flustered. "Sir?" he asked, snapping a crisp salute.

"Good news. The Alliance is sending a specialist in to look at Hutch and also, a replacement pilot in the meantime," Hawkins noted casually.

Jeff's jaw went slack. "Sounds like they're writing Hutch off as a goner."

Hawkins shook his head. "No, more like being practical. We don't know how long it'll take Hutch to be well enough to fly again and I'm sure you know as well as I do we'll need Voltron sooner than later. So be prepared to do some newbie training soon."

Great, Jeff thought solemnly. The idea of a new pilot irritated him for some reason and he was anything but looking forward to it. Maybe it was the idea that any one of them could just be replaced so easily, or maybe he didn't fancy the idea of an interloper into their tight knit group. Either way, he didn't like it.

"Are you sure it's someone we can trust with the secrets of Voltron?" Jeff asked. He wasn't trying to be a smartass and hoped he didn't come off as such, but it was a valid question given their current struggle against espionage.

"Oh, I think we can trust this one," Hawkins replied. "He used to pilot a part of the Voltron that operates in the Denubian Galaxy. Sven's been put on an express shuttle from Pollux to come over here and give us a hand."

"I remember that guy from Academy." Knowing this, Jeff felt much less aggravated about the newcomer. And at least he had some kind of experience with technology such as Voltron was comprised – it'd just be a matter of introducing him to this slightly different model. He also remembered somewhat the reason why Sven no longer was on the Lion Voltron team on Arus, thanks to letters Chip shared from his brother Pidge, who was also on that team. "What about Lisa?" Jeff asked with sincerity.

Hawkins glanced down at the sleeping figure. "She should be cleared for flight soon enough. She was lucky. But speaking of trust…" Hawkins trailed off as he produced the device that had been removed from Ginger's jet.

Jeff regarded his commanding officer with curiosity as the man leaned in closer and lowered his voice even more. "I didn't want to discuss this earlier because who knows who's listening in on us and with what."

Jeff nodded in understanding. Hawkins continued. "This thing, it's marked with Drule markings on the outside, but when you look at the guts – the electronics inside – you can tell it's made by someone who had Alliance training in engineering and electronics. In fact, it's so advanced that there's only a few known people on board this ship that has that kind of training. Not to mention they knew exactly how to tap into the fighter jet's computer system…"

Jeff blinked and remained silent a moment while the information sank in. He always assumed the spy was someone who lurked unseen – a stow-away of some sort causing trouble. More to the point, he realized he'd imagined the spy as a Drule, who were always the enemy in his eyes. But if he caught what he Commander was saying correctly, he seemed to think it was one of their own. "Okay," Jeff said quietly, "let's round 'em up and find out who's responsible. Then give him a traitor's send off before he can feed the Drules anymore classified documents."

"That's the other thing," Hawkins said as if he'd just remembered something. "That information Keira managed to swipe?"

"Yeah…"

"Fakes. Newley moved the real documents on his last trip out when we first were sure something was going on around here as a precaution, but filled the cabinets up with fake but official looking stuff hoping to catch the spy in the act. We got Keira instead, as you know but – it's nice to know the Drules will likely be wasting valuable time and resources building weaponry to take advantage of Voltron's supposed 'weaknesses'."

Jeff's face broke into a wide grin. He should have known the Commander was on top of the situation. He always was.

"In that way, her escape may work to our advantage. Though I shudder to think what's going to happen to her once she's no longer useful to them."

Jeff scowled. "She made her choice," he muttered. Though not wishing to get into a debate with Hawkins about how she just didn't know any better, he couldn't bring himself to defend her. Not after her repeated failure to get that they're not the ones she should be afraid of. Forgiving her also didn't make the damage she tried to do hurt them any less. And Hutch – he may die because of her stealing that ship. No, he wasn't too concerned about Keira.

"I already briefed Cliff and Cric but the three of you need to keep this quiet for now. We need to gather a little more intelligence until we can narrow down the suspects and make our move."

Jeff was happy that Hawkins didn't seem to want to argue in Keira's defense either. "Right," Jeff replied.

"Until then, remain on high alert," Hawkins said before making an exit.

Jeff stood there a moment, pondering who might be the on board troublemaker. He had a few ideas, himself.

"Hey."

Marvin's sleepy voice startled Jeff out of his reverie. "Hey, you're awake. C'mon, let's go get some coffee."

Marvin looked back at Hutch's still form and hesitated. Jeff clapped the slight man on the back and steered him toward the door. "You gotta eat and drink sometime. It'll be all right. Give yourself a break."

Marvin apparently couldn't think of a reason not to relent and let Jeff lead him out the door.

"I have some good news," Jeff continued, suddenly in a truly good mood for the first time in a long while. "Remember Sven?"

Their voices faded as they walked down the hall, and when they no longer could be heard, a figure emerged from the shadows, a syringe gripped in one hand. "Time to say goodbye, Hutch," the man uttered with obscene pleasure before slipping into the room Jeff and Marvin had just left.

Nothing that happened on his ship got past Nerok. Of course, he'd viewed the spy cam tape that had recorded Sandu's conversation with Keira. Now both were a danger to his plans. Keira had wanted off the ship at their last stop, but that was denied. And though she pretended loyalty to the Drules, Nerok could tell the girl was nervous. He had her every move monitored, as well as Sandu – the fool would pay for his outburst.

Everything was ready to go and he felt good about his chances, as his fleet traveled to meet with Twila's to deliver the deathblow to the Alliance. But those two…they were trouble, and it wouldn't do to keep them around any longer. Any perverse pleasure he got out of making Sandu miserable would have to be forsaken for the good of his plans against the Alliance.

Before he could make up his mind on a fitting way to dispose of the pair, a soldier burst into Nerok's office quarters without so much as permission. "Sir, emergency."

Nerok arched a brow, annoyed at the rude lack of respect. If the so-called 'emergency' didn't warrant the lack of protocol, Nerok would have fun with this soldier as well. Lack of respect and loyalty to him were bones of contention for Nerok. "I'm listening," he said coolly.

"Twila – she reached the Explorer fleet before you and has already attacked."

"What!" Nerok shrieked. That glory-stealing bitch! That wasn't the plan at all. He, for one, would never understand why the high council even allowed women to lead fleets. They were the worst when it came to knowing their true place.

The nervous soldier hesitated. "What shall we do, sir?"

Nerok sat a while longer in quiet fury. "Nothing. Turn the fleet around."

"W-what, sir?"

The soldier cowered under the weight of Nerok's glare. He spoke slowly, purposefully as he repeated himself. "Turn the fleet around. We'll land on nearby planet Phynos."

"Yes, sir."

The soldier couldn't leave fast enough as Nerok continued to stew in his loathing for Twila. He'd leave her out to dry. That would teach her. In the meantime, a smile slowly spread across his face as an idea began to form. An idea that would again put the Voltron Force in an impossible position and get rid of his little pair of treasonous troublemakers.

Moments later, the laser fire from Twila's attack fleet rocked the Explorer and Lisa was jarred out of her restful sleep. It took her some time to focus on what was going on. The emergency lights were all that illuminated the room, and it was hard to see much. She could, however, make out the silhouette of Hutch lying on the bed across the way. But her eyes widened in fear as another silhouette caught her eye – that of a man standing over Hutch and it looked as though he was tampering with Hutch's IV line. She couldn't make out his face, but he wasn't dressed in a doctor's lab coat and her intuition told her he didn't belong there.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

Instead of answering, the man ducked down as though to further obscure his face before dashing out of the room. Seconds later, the monitor keeping tabs on Hutch's vital signs began to blare an alarm signaling an arrest. Lisa was horrified. Where was everyone?

Before she could struggle out of bed, several lab-coated physicians stormed into the room and began working on Hutch. "Wait," she pleaded. "I saw someone do something to him." She was dismayed to know they hadn't heard her. When next she tried to inform them, she was drowned out by an announcement for the Voltron Force to launch.

Lisa struggled out of bed, a sudden desire to chase after the man hitting her. What good did it do to tell the doctors some mystery substance had harmed Hutch? If she could get the man then they could find out exactly what he'd done and save Hutch. She needed to find someone to help her, and since Hutch needed the doctors she ventured out into the hall to see if anyone was about. The constant turbulence combined with her own weakened state made it a slow affair, and she was further crushed to emerge into the hall with not a soul in sight.

Determined, she moved as fast as she could down the hall, using the wall as support. When she got to a spot where another passage intersected with that one, she was shocked to find herself pulled forcibly down it. She tried to shriek but found her mouth and nose covered by a rather strong and powerful hand.

Lisa knew it had to be the man whom she'd seen back in the room, but now he had on some sort of mask. He had her pinned against the wall of the dimly lit and deserted hallway, and he was almost smothering her in his attempt to silence her. She'd never felt so afraid or vulnerable in her life. The more she panicked, the more she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Unless you want to join your friend, you didn't see anything," he warned her. And though it was obvious he was trying to disguise his voice, a small light of recognition went on in Lisa's mind.

But before she could have time to think on it further, the man threw her roughly aside, and struck her with a blunt object on the back of her head. She fell into an unconscious heap on the floor.

TO BE CONTINUED…