A golden helmet with a red gem blocking the view to the right side lay crushed somewhat peaking out from underneath dark dressed goons. A dark burn decorated the helmet which continued to be letting loose of warm steam. There was a distinctive computer wail echoing through out the starship but it was faint and distant. The faint red light flickered on and off. Dragos's long red cape - now tattered and shorter- was discarded on the floor dangling from a pipe but the cape was not connected to anything for that matter. The view lowered down to reveal a figure with a lowered head and legs being dragged between two taller figures. Dragos's once clean and tidy outfit was covered in holes now stained by his own blood. His arms visibly lacked the shadow of the sleeves against the red hue.
From within the confines of space, the space army allied to Dragos appeared to be dwindling in numbers. Windows were being shattered on the decks to the war ships. One of the starships finally sliced in half revealing the blue sizzling electricity contrasting against the canvas being decorated in light gray objects coming out of the ship. Aliens that resembled praying mantis's were sucked out. Fighters were aggressively tailing the saucers that shot back lasers leaving confines on the wide, thin wing blades. Quite a few of the fighters turned into space junk that was aimlessly flying about. There was even a fighter that had three battery shaped additions on its back side screwed in to a long flat format. The fighter collided against another fighter sending them breaking into even more space junk. Away, out of the on-going battle, there was a long triangle starship falling toward the atmosphere of Priplanus coated in deep scars that went through several decks.
Prentiss looked out the window then his face fell watching the view and closed his eyes taking in a breath.
The breathe was exhaled at the moment that his eyes closed.
Prentiss turned his attention off the window then marched on keeping Smith balanced on his feet.
"Can't allow for that to happen," Don acknowledged.
Cold air was drifting in the Space Drill.
Don rubbed his shoulders then grabbed on to the joy stick then propped it forward. The Space Drill tore through the middle of the starship slicing it in half with great velocity. The starship was sliced in half revealing the hundreds of layered decks. The chair turned and twirled following his movements slicing and dicing the starship until it wasn't much of a planetary disaster. The Space Drill returned above the starship. He could see several small circular pods flying out of the ship only to be chased by rounded starships in the tense atmosphere. Don could feel a buzzing coming from his hip so he took the ear bud out and into his ear.
"This is Commander Stone of Queen Medusa's battleship," Stone said. "Space Drill, respond."
"Space Drill here," Don said. "I hear you are doing well."
"Retreat and return to your post, officer," Stone said. "We can handle it from here."
"It's hard to believe that when you let a starship fall toward Priplanus," Don said. "We know the planet is going to destroy itself."
There was a sigh.
"There is no use trying to fool you," Stone said.
"I am not going to let it die early when the Robinsons have a better chance of getting off the planet," Don added. "Unlike you, I don't have a temporal prime directive to abide."
"You have a mission statement," Stone said. "I am very familiar to that."
"You must be," Don said.
"How much fuel do you have left?" Stone asked.
"Enough to chop two to three more starships," Don said. "So, I am sticking around until no more starships are going to fall. You are pretty busy right now in the battle so I thought I would chip in."
"We are not busy," Stone said. "We are leaving for our time before the time warp closes."
"Why are you doing that?" Don asked, alarmed.
"According to the Robinson Robot, we don't have much long to stay," Stone said. "He has a very thorough sensors for a machine made in the 20th century," Stone smiled on the other side of the audio message. "He approached me sometime last night regarding that if we didn't get out soon as we could after the battle then we are going to take the long way back. Dragos has refused to turn himself in which means I cannot turn him in for the proper help and proper trial that he deserves. This battle will resolve itself in a coordinated manner-"
"What about the Robinsons?" Don asked. "What about the starships I can't catch?"
"I assume the volunteers can help you with that," Stone said.
"Some of them are busy chasing down some fighters," Don said.
There was silence from Stone's side as the commander lowered his head with hands linked behind his back and his eyes lowered toward the floor then raised his head up.
"Our hands are tied on this matter," Stone made himself say.
"You're going to let them die?" Don asked, alarmed.
There was even more silence.
"The crew of the Jupiter 2 have been dead for three centuries, Major," Stone said, placing his hands on to the counter. "It's against the rules to help someone meant to die to live."
"Hold on a minute!" Don said. "Wouldn't this be against the rules to have a battle over the planet?"
"No," Stone said. "According to Federation records, they never had a large enough army to take on the Federation at this point in time. Goodbye, Major. Castleship out."
Silence filled the bridge to the castleship bridge as the words echoed back to Stone.
Medusa quietly resumed the course to the void as the man hunched over the console with his hands on the counter.
Medusa looked over toward the commander, out of pity, watching Stone close his eyes and clear his throat with lowered shoulders. It was a tough pill to swallow let alone for someone who had been helped by the Robinsons. Someone who had made the vow to help people no matter what situation they had been sunk inside. No matter how hard he wanted to help the Robinsons this was something that couldn't be helped. This battle could be responsible for sending the crew flying back into space. Destroyed the planet after too many starships had crashed into it.
After a moment, Stone straightened himself up.
"It's hard to say no," Medusa said.
Stone turned his attention toward the queen as the castleship approached the void.
"Doing what is right is hard," Stone said.
Medusa had a sympathetic look.
"You and I, you and I," Medusa said, then shook her head with a small smile. "Of all things to be united on."
The goons rested Dragos against the wall as the crowd grew in number. There were groans coming from the gathering group. Dragos's eyes opened, his vision blurry, then bolted up to his feet with big eyes where he looked around in once heavily armed goons ranging in the thousands had gone down to hundreds. His vision was dizzy walking around the huddled group. One of his trusted allies followed him grabbing the emperor by the shoulder in place a moment before falling to his feet feeling unwell. Dragos observed the red flickering lights. His body aching from head to toe. His head was aching the most from the falling and hitting random objects. All that his body had gone through by the attacking Space Drill. Defeated, by a Space Drill, without knowing who was in the seat. It was the ultimate insult: not to know this enemy. It made Dragos feel furious.
Dragos looked around the scenery as it finally sank down to him that he was in the middle of devastating from the receiving end of the stick. He was vulnerable. Beyond his control to turn the tables upside down and turn it into his favor. He can feel the air was full of loss and desperation as a panel cracked above earning shrieks and scrambling. Dragos frowned at the development rather displeased. The visible, but silent fury rose and consumed his aching body. The aching from all over became part of the background noise ringing in his ears. A explosion had came from behind him on the bridge. The screams of his goons was the last thing that he heard being flung away. And now, he could see a part of the aftermath for the explosion. Disappointment was all around Dragos and in the air in a way that made him shake his head. Dragos turned in the direction of his loyal ally Baktok.
His dark eyes eased on Baktok.
The concerned, worried black beady eyes facing him.
A sub-species of the Betazoids from Betazed, once from Betazed, but went to the planet Dragon to establish their own civilization hundreds if not thousands years ago. Which allowed them co-exist in a way that allowed them to stand united under the Dragonian empire. This ally was his long time friend since childhood as had many of those ultimately joined him in space. Baktok had been there through thick and thin to expand the empire. The Federation had turned a blind eye to his conquering and paying attention to their own affairs.
Glorious years that had been spent side by side. Spent alongside his long time friend from galaxy to galaxy to galaxy and from universe to universe. His most trusted friend who would never leave his side. The wake of devastation didn't seem so bad standing alongside Baktok. There was always hope that things could get better. There was hope. Hope just beyond his reach. With all the sadness and frustration that came along with it being let go after reaching the big goal. There was no need to share a word between the two. His ship had been destroyed. His crew was dead, dying, and surviving. This ship was no place to wage a war. The stories about the saucers that couldn't easily be destroyed. Saucers that terrified the living skin off of emperors, kings queens, dictators, tyrants, and presidents when they came into public view and requested to take a few then waited, bided their time, and took it by force if not given what they wanted.
But they never faced anyone like Dragos Evil.
Emperor Dragos Evil.
Someone capable of making friends.
Friends capable of making a punch.
With arsenal like that, they would quickly become a non-threatening force.
"What is next, Emperor Evil?" Baktok asked.
"We get to the nearest ship and go back further in time," Dragos said.
"Evil," Baktok said. "You will be defeated."
"The Federation suffered a great defeat by my hands," Dragos said. "And I won't be around to see it be undone," he had a smile placing a hand on the creature's shoulder. "I won't become my uncle Dragos," he had a laugh. "Everyone!"
The goons raised their heads up.
"To the lifeboats," Dragos then added, bitterly. "That remain."
Their heads lowered and mumbles were heard throughout the hall with lights that was flickering on and off from above them.
"I will stay and retrieve the technology that allows for travel to the distant past," Dragos informed the survivors. "Inform my family that I will not be returning," Dragos turned in the direction of Baktok. "Baktok, this is where our paths diverge."
"You have not asked enough from me," Baktok said.
"My friend, return to your wife and children," Dragos said. "You have been gone for two years and two years is enough when it comes a friend being away from their family."
"Where you go," Baktok said. "I follow."
Dragos appeared to be surprised.
"After everything I put you through?" Dragos asked. "All that personal sacrifices you made helping me in that alternate universe. . ."
"I made my farewells before we came to the Alvereze system," Baktok said. "I like to be there when you defeat the Federation." Baktok grew a smile. "It would be the greatest honor to witness the defeat of the Federation."
Dragos grew a grin in return.