Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, Star Trek, or anything else that belongs to WEP or Paramount. What I do own are the crew of the Berlin, (except for Mordock and Scotty), the fighter, Thunderwing, and the story itself.
A/N: This is probably going to be the last post for a bit. I'm in the process of moving down to Virginia to take a teaching job, so it might be a while before I can update again. Check 6, everyone.
Star Tron: Hidden Dangers
Chapter 11
"Princess, thank heaven," Coran said as she materialized in Castle Control. The others gathered around, welcoming her back.
But Allura had other things on her mind. She thanked them for their concern, but happy as she was to be home, she knew that celebrations would have to wait. She turned to her advisor and asked, "What's happening, Coran?"
"There is a group of ships – five fighters and a larger vessel – heading toward the airfield. We're tracking them with our weather sensors."
Keith looked at Hunk and Pidge. "Are the Lions ready?"
The pair nodded. "All set, chief," Pidge replied, adjusting his glasses.
Keith took in his team with a sweeping glance as he said, "Let's go."
Coran pressed a button on his console, and the Voltron Force dashed into their launch tubes as the command console rose toward the ceiling.
After they formed up over the castle, Keith led the group straight toward the incoming assault force. It no longer mattered if they knew the Voltron Force could see through their cloaks or not. They had to be stopped.
"Dead ahead, Keith," Pidge reported.
"Right, thanks, Pidge." Keith switched channels saying, "Black Lion to Starship Berlin."
"Driscoll here. What can we do ya for, Commander?"
"Do you have a lock on that assault group?"
"Sure do. Coran's feeding us the target data."
Keith nodded. "Good. Here's what we need you to do…"
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"Commander Torka, I have incoming enemy ships. Range, fifty kilometers and closing," the Doom sensor operator reported. Torka's attack force was just coming into range of Olessa, which they would overfly on their way to the spaceport. "It's the Voltron Force!" There was an odd tone in the officer's voice, as though he didn't understand what his sensors were telling him.
Torka smiled. "So they decided to mount a token resistance after all? How noble," he sneered. "Visual."
A small screen on the forward bulkhead activated and Torka's face went blank. All five Lions were headed straight for his group! But how could that be? The Voltron Force was broken. He'd seen to that himself.
He whipped around to face the gunner. "Is the masking field in place?"
"Yes, sir. Masking field is functioning normally."
That gave Torka some reassurance. At least the Voltron Force couldn't see them. But still, he was uneasy. If all of the Lions were here, that must mean that the base had been discovered. And if the base had been discovered…
A heavy knot of fear settled into the pit of Torka's stomach as the Voltron Force assumed an attack formation and accelerated toward them.
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The Lions raced in at the cloaked assault force, their newly modified sensors showing their pilots the exact position of each invisible enemy.
"Okay, guys, take out those fighters!" Keith ordered. "Laser fangs!"
In the jaws of each Lion, the four steel canines lengthened and began to glow pale blue. The distance closed. "Attack!"
The great cats rushed the fighters, which tried in vain to dodge the attack but it was too late. It was over in seconds as the Lions stripped the fighters from their positions around the cruiser, hitting them like a brick wall and tearing them apart with a slash of their great fangs.
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Torka watched the remains of his fighter escort fall to the ground behind the assault ship. The destruction had been instantaneous. One second, the fighters were in position, the next, they were simply gone.
He was about to order evasive maneuvers when the ship shook hard, throwing him to the deck. Slowly getting back to his feet as he felt the deck begin to tilt under him, he heard the helmsman call out, "Engines out! We're going down!"
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"Nice going, team!" Keith said as the Berlin's photon torpedo tore into the aft section of the assault ship. The vessel's cloak failed, and the burning hulk started down.
"Keith, that thing's headed right for Olessa!" Allura warned.
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"Helmsman," Torka shouted over the growing din of alarms and metallic creaks and groans from the dying ship. "Get us as close to the town as you can!" There was no way they were going to make it to the airfield now. The best they could hope to do was make it into the town and hold their ground until Lotor's reinforcements arrived.
The ship continued down, the ground rising quickly as the edge of town drew nearer.
As Torka watched, he saw men below him. Armed men behind earthen ramparts. The city was defended! The Arusians knew about the invasion.
But he had no time to wonder how they found out, as with a final shudder, the ship stalled and tumbled to the ground.
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The Voltron Force circled the wreck, which had come to rest barely one hundred meters from the edge of town, behind most of the defensive lines.
Pidge flew lowest over the ship, slowly scanning the broken vessel. His sensors told him that there were survivors, but their condition was unknown. There were several fires on the ship, including a rather large one in the cargo bay.
Suddenly, the main ramp blew open, and men began crawling out. "Keith, they're making a break for it!" Pidge warned, pulling up as several blaster shots struck Green Lion's head. The young pilot watched them disappear into the woods as Keith said, "We'll let the ground troops handle them. Let's head back to the castle."
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Half an hour after leaving the wrecked assault ship, Commander Torka called his men to a halt and took stock. Of his original force of eighty men, twenty-seven had escaped the ship. Both tanks and their crews were lost, as well as their air cover. The men carried personal armaments only, which amounted to blasters and a few grenades. It was nowhere near enough firepower to take the airfield.
But they had another problem: The Arusians were ready for them. Torka remembered the hastily-constructed defenses and troop positions he'd seen as his ship came down. Somehow, the Arusians had learned of his plans, if not Lotor's.
No, there was no way they could know about Lotor's plans. But that was irrelevant now. All that mattered was that they knew, and they were ready.
It was also a certainty that the base had been discovered, and either taken or destroyed. That's the only way the Princess could be available to fly with the Voltron Force.
Torka looked up and saw his men gathered around him. "What are your orders, Commander?"
Torka regarded his men, seeing the looks of dejection and confusion on their faces. Only an hour or so ago, these same men had cheered their impending victory, and now, he saw only defeat. His men needed action. They needed to believe that there was still a way to win. They had fought hard, and now had seen their imminent triumph snatched cruelly away. But Torka knew just what to do. It would be against his orders, but it was the only way to reenergize his men, and still make a meaningful contribution to Lotor's victory.
He stood, drawing himself up to his full height, his blue skin contrasting with his black uniform. Surveying his men with a calm, steady gaze, he said in a strong, even voice, "I will need five volunteers."
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"Prince Lotor, may I have a word with you?" Commander Kozal asked. "In private?"
"Very well," Lotor replied. The attack fleet was still several hours from Arus, and the Doom Prince was feeling bored. At least hearing Kozal's probably foolish concerns would give him something to do.
Lotor and Kozal walked into a small briefing room near the command center. "What is it, Kozal?"
"You have assigned your man on Arus to take the airfield near the Castle of Lions, so you can land your troops. Am I correct?"
"You are."
Kozal nodded. "What will you do if he cannot?"
Lotor was flabbergasted. The nerve of Kozal to insinuate that Lotor's orders would not be obeyed. It was treasonous!
Kozal saw the anger in Lotor's face, and knew that his question had not been taken as it was intended. "My Lord, not everything goes as we plan. The Voltron Force are formidable enemies, and may find a way to prevent our forces from taking the airfield. At least, until we arrive to reinforce them."
Despite his feelings to the contrary, Lotor couldn't help but see the logic of Kozal's argument. What would he do if the airfield was still in Arusian hands when he arrived? Crush them all, of course. But how? Lotor was not a man of tactics, and that fault was proving most troublesome now. Once again, Haggar's admonition came to mind. "What do you suggest, Commander?" he asked with barely-hidden contempt.
"If the airfield has not been taken, we should send in a group of fighters to draw their fire while a troopship lands on the field. Those troops can then sweep the base and rout the defenders."
Lotor thought over Kozal's plan. And the more he though about it, the more he liked it, but not for its stated goals. The plan was very risky, and the initial strike force would likely suffer heavy casualties. He could fulfill two goals in one stroke.
Looking at Kozal, he said, "Very well, Commander. You will lead the assault on Arus. See to it that our troops are able to land according to plan."
"Yes, My Lord," Kozal replied, saluting as Lotor left the room.
Once Lotor had gone, Kozal mused over what had just happened, and he didn't like it. Lotor had been openly hostile toward him before, and now over the past day and a half, his outward attitude had changed drastically. He didn't like Lotor, and he was sure Lotor didn't like him. So why would he suddenly assign Kozal command of a major part of the operation? To Kozal, the answer was clear: He wasn't supposed to come back.
Well, we'll see about that, Kozal thought, a smile bending his lips as he imagined the look on Lotor's face when his little plan backfired.
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The Berlin and the Timberwolf had been on yellow alert for the past three hours. But except for skirmishes between Arusian ground troops and the remainder of the Doom assault force, all was quiet.
Driscoll paced the perimeter of the Berlin's bridge. As he came by the side of the science console, he paused. "Anything out there, Mordock?"
The Benzite shook his head, puffs of vapor wafting from his respirator. "No, sir."
Driscoll nodded and turned to the viewer, gripping the rail that ran around the command section of the bridge. Somewhere out there was a fleet that outnumbered his forces a hundred to one.
But they had a plan. Driscoll, Jacobs, Captain O'Donnel and his tactical officer, Lt. Janos had found a way to attack Lotor's fleet and hit them where Michael told them to, and hopefully do it without getting hit back too hard. But before they could do anything, they'd have to find that fleet.
And the waiting was murder. The tension in the air was palpable. Everyone was on edge, ready to snap into action, or just plain snap.
Driscoll returned to his command chair, glancing at his dinosaurian first officer. Gredar seemed to be staring at the screen, but then he quietly hissed, "The attack comes."
"Yep, sooner or later," Driscoll replied quietly.
"Soon."
Driscoll cast Gredar a sideways glance, but said nothing. Moments later, there was a chirping sound from the edge of the bridge.
"Enemy fleet inbound!" Mordock announced. "Current bearing one-seven-seven mark twelve."
"Okay, people, here we go," said Driscoll, standing up. He looked back at the tactical officer. "T. J., go to red alert, all hands to battle stations. Tell Timberwolf to form up."
"Aye, sir,"
He walked forward, stopping up between the helm and ops stations, resting a hand on Curtis' and Singh's chairs. "Mike, commence approach, warp speed, all ahead full."
"Approach course, warp nine aye," Curtis replied.
Slinging around the far side of Arus, the two starships headed out to engage the Doom invasion fleet.
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Prince Lotor sat in his command chair, looking down around him at the crew of his flagship. The 200-ship armada had just entered the Diamond system, preparing for its attack. Already, the fighters were launching, spreading around the fleet to support the incursions and landings as needed.
"Where are the Federation ships?" Lotor demanded.
"I don't know, My Lord," the sensor officer replied.
"Well, find them!" Lotor commanded. He wasn't particularly worried about them. He had more than enough firepower to obliterate them. No, the problem was that he preferred to have his enemies in a position where he could keep an eye on them. Not being able to account for the starships was a bit unsettling.
"Now passing Shamara, Your Highness," the navigator reported.
Lotor didn't acknowledge him.
If he could have seen through Shamara, Lotor would have found the objects of his search. The starships Berlin and Timberwolf sat there, just waiting for the enemy fleet to pass by.
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Both captains had known that attacking the fleet head-on would be suicidal. They'd be lucky to survive a single pass. But Doom cruisers had a large Achilles' heel. They were only lightly defended, if at all, to the rear. While they were shielded, only the largest battleships carried any rearward-firing weapons. And even these were not particularly dangerous weapons. Certainly not any of their heavy lazon armament.
It was that weakness that the Starfleet ships were about to exploit.
Mordock watched the sensor display as eight, twenty-five-ship columns passed Shamara, with thousands of fighters fanning out around them.
"They've passed us, Captain."
"Okay, here we go. Berlin to Timberwolf."
"O'Donnel here."
"Let's go, Captain. Remember to stick to the plan."
"Right." O'Donnel replied.
"Commander Jacobs, stand by quantum torpedoes, full spread. Mr. Curtis, commence attack run."
The starships whipped around Shamara, the big, Excelsior-class Berlin in the lead, with the smaller, Defiant-class ship slightly behind. As they closed in on the rear of the Doom formation, the Berlin's phasers swept away the few fighters in their way. As they came racing in at full impulse, a few cruisers realized what was going on, but it was too late.
Like an electric blue shotgun blast, eight quantum torpedoes exploded from the Berlin's launch tubes, followed by a flurry of phaser fire. The torpedoes found their marks and obliterated them.
Timberwolf was next, unleashing a storm from its torpedo tubes and phaser pulse cannons as it followed its larger sister into the enemy formation.
In their wake, eighteen Doom warships tumbled helplessly through space.
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Driscoll grinned. It had worked! They were inside the enemy formation, too close for them to risk using lazon missiles. The ship was buffeted by intense laser fire, but the shields were holding. Under his breath, Driscoll blessed his chief engineer.
"Okay, T. J., remember, target the base of the conning tower on the starboard side," he said.
"Yes, sir."
The starship threaded its way up the convoy, its phasers slashing away at the cruisers. Some immediately faltered and fell out of formation, with Timberwolf finishing them off. Others merely returned fire.
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"My Prince, the fleet is under attack!" the communications droid announced.
"Show me!" Lotor replied. On the big monitor at the front of the command center, Lotor watched the Berlin and Timberwolf tearing through the formation. He gritted his teeth in anger. "How many have we lost?" he demanded.
"Twenty-nine."
"All star cutters, attack! Destroy the Berlin!"
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"Yeah, awright! That's how we do it!" Driscoll cheered as his ship broke out the side of the formation, chased by a flurry of laser fire and missiles, which the ion dart launchers handily dispatched.
"Captain, enemy ships are turning to engage," said Mordock.
"How many?" Gredar asked.
"Fifty star cutters, plus fighters."
Driscoll blanched, but quickly reigned himself in. He looked at the viewer, watching the enemy ships coming at him. He couldn't afford to panic now.
"Helm, bring us about," he ordered.
"Aye, sir."
"Photon torpedoes, load tubes one and two, full spread," Driscoll ordered, speaking in a sharp, barking staccato, as he always did at critical moments in combat.
"Tubes one and two loaded and ready, sir." Jacobs replied in like fashion.
"Lock targets, stand by to fire."
"Targets locked in, ready to fire, sir."
The Doom ships charged.
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Keith and the others watched on the monitors at the Castle of Lions as the star cutters and fighters charged the Berlin and Timberwolf. The two starships were hammered by laser and missile fire, answering back with blistering salvos of their own.
Allura gasped, swallowing a sudden feeling of panic as she saw the Berlin falter and list to port under a missile strike, her phasers lashing out toward off the advancing star cutter, tearing its keel open.
"Keith…" said Lance.
Keith knew what his friend was thinking, and he agreed. The starships couldn't last long under that kind of assault. They needed help. "Let's…"
But before he could finish his sentence, the castle's alarms rang out as Coran announced, "There's a robeast approaching Olessa!"
"Where? I don't see it," said Hunk. The image on the screen showed only a low dust cloud hovering near town.
A knot of apprehension gripped Keith's stomach. "Coran, what do the Dopplers show?"
Coran changed the view, and they saw the pattern of wind currents over the trees and, towering above them, a shape like none they'd seen before. They couldn't tell exactly what it looked like, but that kind of turbulence pattern could only mean one thing: An invisible robeast was about to level Olessa.
Before Keith could ask him, Coran had raised the launch tubes, and the five pilots were off.