1I humbly ask for indulgence. I'm having a bit of trouble figuring how it works. I have a bunch of chapters I need to format, It isn't a big deal so you'll have them fairly rapidly. But then, I have a big hole in the story because my computer fried, and my last back up didn't have those. Oh well, at least I had made a back up . . .

So these chapters will trickle one by one as I have to rewrite them.

I enabled anonymous reviews when I saw it wasn't enabled by default. I read fanfiction for years and reviewed them but didn't want to have an account until recently. I think all readers should be able to review, however, I'm flame sensitive, so please make feedback constructive criticism.

Again, I don't own Voltron, I'm playing with the characters and I promise to put them back in the box mostly intact when I'm through. (Love this disclaimer, didn't invent it, don't know who did though.)

This first part of the story is angstsy, but I didn't put angst in the style. It evolves. Eventually. Those who hate angst, be patient. Those who enjoy it, rejoice, it gets worse before it gets better. There will be a bit of everything. This is shaping up as a saga. But yes, at the beginning Lotor will mope a lot, and then . . . not telling!

The fic is Lotor-centric, but don't worry, other characters will have their spotlight. It takes a while though, so don't give up.

4- Descent

Several months later, Lotor was daydreaming in his bed, all curled up. His father was calling again. He got up in supreme indifference and dragged himself along the corridors to do the bidding of the fossil. His shoulder still hurt. His mind brought him back to his little friend on Aris. He missed his trips to the various markets in the galaxy and his walks into the woods, quietly listening to the insufferably cute little imp. To have lost his secret escapades and the possibility of showering his love with wonders had been the last straw. It had broken something fundamental in him, even though he didn't suspect how profound the change was.

What a delicious little girl, he thought with a dreamy smile. He was supposed to be the destroyer of people like that. To enslave them and use them. He had been raised to hate all non-drules. Maybe that why was he despised himself, he was, after all, only half drule. He always wore the colour-shifting cloak now, and soft clothes: they were so much more comfortable, not to mention concealing.

Of late his father had plotted more intently then he usually did, for once using small ships and computers. His son was happy since he had left him mostly alone. Lotor knew Zarkon was still an influential figure in many governments, and in the past few weeks he had strengthened his reseau. The ex-monarch held the strings of many puppets. That's how they remained filthy rich and could replace lost material. A shipment would bring them every toy they needed. Zarkon just had to call certain allies and they'd be flooded with goods from all over the galaxy. While they didn't lack anything, the palace was empty and filled with gloom. The prince hated to think about what lurked in its bowels. He hated the prepared food they had, and he had lost his appetite some time ago. He had also stopped exercising and taking his supplements. What was the point of having his muscles blown up like a bodybuilder? It only emphasized what was missing. And he certainly wouldn't seduce anyone.

He was now quite thin and wasted, and his light armour didn't even fit anymore. To keep his father distracted from the relatively rapid change he hid himself in the spy cloak. It made his shape disappear. The little quiet thought would resurface every now and then: there were so many quick ways to get rid of oneself . . . now don't go there, he admonished himself. Just don't.

In the middle of his musings he finally got to the meeting room. Zarkon and Hagar were waiting for him.

"Your hair is a mess. You should take more pride in it or shave it. We have a new plan, and this one won't fail!" Claimed Zarkon.

Lotor smiled. I wish I'd have a device to tell us how many times one of us said that, he thought. While Zarkon underlined a new strategy, his son only half listened, paying attention only on his part of the proceedings. It involved an attack on planet Ameda, and the stealing of some magical artifact. He was to provide a diversion with the Revenge by launching a furious attack on one of their major cities. For once the pirates weren't there, so he'd have to fly the ship with mechanical copilots.

***** ***** *****

It felt good to be alone in his great ship, followed by a robot fleet of a few thousands. Maybe he could fly to the confines of the galaxy. But then, surely his dearest father had some way to track the Revenge as well as his son. However that gave him a bizarre idea, one that gave him a startled smile; if he were to put his artificial arm in a programmed ship, his father would probably think he was actually flying the thing. He stashed this idea for later.

On an impulse he decided he'd fire at a desert. The weird manoeuver would still bring the army on him. He was only supposed to provide a diversion, after all. Killing thousands was quite useless. It was a harmless way to provoke their fleet into pursuing him. Maybe they would even call the Voltron Force to the rescue. Weren't the celebrated explorers the Defenders of the Universe? Let's test the manoeuverability of the Revenge, he thought with a smirk. Lets throw a few more robeasts at them, so I can have fun watching them sliced.

He realized of course that this type of reasoning was quite new to him. Oh, he had always loved it when his father was humiliated, but never with such a ferocious intensity. He had to resist the impulse to take the fossil by the shoulders and shake him while screaming: "We LOST, you fool! We're finished. The only army we have left is stupid robot ships and two stupid, paid pirates. No slaves, no trappings of powers save for this empty monstrosity of a castle. You're just dragging it! Wake up! We LOST!"

Maybe he was going insane at last. He couldn't stop the raging flow of conflicting emotions that constantly warred in his overloaded mind. Why, even now, from one minute to the other, he'd felt crushing sadness, blind rage and amusement, all flickering madly in no particular order. While some might think that insanity was a refugee, he knew that it only hurt. Maybe he was the one who was just dragging it.

Let's blow a few million tons of sand, he thought as amusement kicked away his sadness again. Bringing the Revenge in a swooping arc, he started to blow up cacti. Clouds of sand made a spectacular show in the intense light of the Ameda sun. He was close enough to a city to make them worry. Well, a little sandstorm was far better than being blown to bits . . . Taking their cue, ships came on him like lice on a sick dog. He had his fun doing some fancy flying with the Revenge in the gigantic Ameda canyons, and then he flew upward, pulling the conflict out of the atmosphere. There, his robot fleet greeted the pursuing army and he took a little break by standing behind it.

He reflected, still amused, how silly robot armies were. They could have much better programming. They stupidly kept the battle on a rather flat field, as if they were warring on the ground. If they used space in a 3D manner, they could sink or go up, taking all the opportunities an empty space provided*. He had kept this particular strategy along with countless others for when he'd be king, but he realized suddenly that he just didn't believe in it anymore.

Then they showed up. Voltron. His nemesis, his archenemies and his only love. For once he didn't feel like fighting. If Hagar and dear father hadn't pulled off their little caper by now, then they were even more hopeless then he. He launched a few robeasts to keep them entertained and just left, not bothering to watch that part.

He had traveled only about half an hour when an impish voice intruded.

"Leaving so soon, Lotor? Usually you stay at the party until you're kicked out..."

Lance. Doubtless the others were there too... but how had they linked a transmission like this? Suddenly his screen changed from the space view to a weird five parted vision of the Voltron team.

"Pretty neat, heh? Compliments of our cyber wizard Pidge here."

Lotor paled when he realized that they could probably see him as well! And his cloak was draped on the back of his seat. His fear was confirmed when he saw the princess take a sharp intake of air, and Lance quipped:

"My, Lotor! Where's the other half of you? Your dad put you on bread and water?"

"You shouldn't be intruding like this," he fumed. "I'm supposed to be the one with bad manners here."

"Are you ill?" Asked Allura with a strange worry in her voice.

"What does it matter to any of you?" He cried furiously as he recognized pity. "You came to blast me to pieces again, well do your best, but spare me the snooping."

He fired on all the cameras on the bridge. There. So, they got rid of his robeasts already. On an impulse again he thought it'd be fun to throw them a bone and take them off his back. And sic them on dear father. He knew they could still hear him.

"Besides, you have the wrong quarry. I just blasted sand and a couple million tons of junk. What do you imagine was the purpose of that? I think you should have monitored departing ships a little more closely... I'm just the fall guy here, as Lance pointed out the other day. If I were you, I'd call the planet to see what transpired. And no, I won't tell you more, because I don't know more. Goodbye now, I have an appointment with a sofa."

Then he sent his ship in hyperspace. Some time later, his father sent a call.

"Why can't I see you?" He demanded.

"A slight malfunction."

"Never mind. We escaped easily, but what I want to know is WHY YOU FIRED AT A DESERT?"

"I missed," said Lotor. And he started to laugh a little hysterically as he fired at the comm.

***** ***** *****

A small stealth ship was bringing back Zarkon and Hagar. Within, the witch gloated over a light blue stone that seemed to pulse with its own life giving light. Zarkon sighed.

"I swear that boy is becoming insane."

"He's just depressed, Zarkon. We should kidnap that little turkey of his and sit her on his lap until he's happy."

"How can he put himself in such a state over anyone? It makes no sense at all."

It wouldn't, thought Hagar, not to you. She turned away, gazing at the stars.

Her eyes widened as she saw the gigantic robots flying toward them.

"Zarkon!"

"I see them. Do something!"

"Well, we'll try our new gadget, your Majesty," she cackled.

Then her voice became much softer, almost hypnotizing, as she started to chant. Zarkon had never heard her use that tone of voice before. The language was incomprehensible, and he stared at her in amazement. The old crone was always full of surprises. The jewel seemed to expend, and it's light now engulfed the entire ship. Then she returned to her normal tones, and continued with her habitual litany of bad poetry. The light changed to a furious shade of violet.

"Now fire on them," your Highness.

He obliged and was rewarded when he saw that the violet light enclosed his laser beam as well, and that it created an explosion on impact! Zarkon laughed in delight. It left yellow lion with a jagged gash, all rimmed in flames. What a truly beautiful sight, he thought.

He continued to fire, slashing through the robot like a red-hot knife through butter.

In the Voltron team, everyone was aghast. It passed clear through all their defences.

"Hunk, are you all right?" Called the Commander.

"Yeah, I'm ok, but the lion is not!"

"We don't know what we're facing here. I hate to give this command, but let's retreat!"

"Where to, boss?" Asked Lance, and for once he forgot to argue.

"Home! The lions need repairs and we need to know more about this stone that Zarkon stole. Then we'll be able to plan."

Zarkon laughed his maniacal despot's laugh when he saw Voltron flee. His ego was now comfortably inflated. They had truly made his day. He thought about pursuit, but knew his ship wasn't fast enough. Still, he sighed in pleasure and directed his ship toward the castle Doom. When it came in sight, he saw the Revenge was already there. He asked Hagar to locate Lotor and could see him in the image she conjured. He had a bottle and he was sprawled AGAIN on his half-demolished sofa. Zarkon resolved to ban alcohol on the next shipment that would be brought in.

***** ***** *****

In truth, Zarkon had just made his second grievous error. The first one had been to ignore the malfunctioning arm. The second was to deprive Lotor of evasion through his "anaesthetic". It left the prince no reprieve at all. As Zarkon made plans to use his new found power, he completely neglected his son, and saw him only when he summoned him to bark orders and sent him to fetch or attack. He never questioned the fact that Lotor never protested, never talked back, or never gloated anymore. Zarkon thought it was a relief. At last he was always sober and he obeyed without complaint. His hair was combed and he did look sinister with this cloak. Perhaps he'd amount to something after all.

Hagar was too occupied trying to control the formidable energies the stone released. White magic was so hard to tame. Zarkon constantly plagued her to hurry up. He really wanted to use this new weapon on a planetary scale, but she wasn't sure that she would be able to control the stone once she'd find a way to multiply it's sphere of influence. As for the pirates, they minded their own business. So no one truly saw Lotor's descent. And no one noticed how truly serene and beautiful his half face had become when he took his decision.

From there, he started a frenzy of activity. He went on a new escapade and bought a used smuggler ship, small, not heavily armed, but with state of the art cloaking capacity. He renamed it Sunset. He also bought a gift for Rose.

He then developed and constructed a new model of spying device, one of the ideas he'd kept for his never-coming reign. They resembled moths, about two and a half inches wide. Even though such spying robots already existed, they all had cameras, which made them much bigger. Lotor didn't need an image for this purpose. He just needed to find out what was the new pattern of the Arisian castle spies.

The machines were tiny and looked like the real thing. He coloured them in the same patterned gray as a species of moth on Aris. When immobile on the bark of a tree, they became virtually invisible.

He paid the pirate Lafitte to fly to Aris and free the moths in a remote area. They would fly the rest of the way, choose a particular tree, and stay put to record some data. His spy moths tracked heat, then recorded its path as a curve. It was able to distinguish size and dismiss birds and small animals. He analysed the data from the castle. In a few days he had acquired enough information to be able to return to Aris one last time.

Then, alone in his room, he brought back on its legs his writing table and rummaged through his old things. He soon found it: a calligraphy pen and some ink. The ink had dried. He mixed it with water and let it sit for the night. His plan would be delayed, but that didn't matter really. He wasn't in a hurry. After the best sleep he'd had in weeks, he found some paper, sat again at his writing table and began:

"My love..."

He took his time. He wrote three letters. He then programmed a course for his father's most precious small stealth ship. He would steal Zarkon's new weapon and stash it in. It would put the fossil in a blinding rage! He designed a merry chase for whoever was going to try to follow the thing. He programmed the stealth ship to use a sun's gravity to gather speed several times, pass through obscure and enormous gas formations, ice fields, and land for a couple of minutes on planets filled with crags and canyons, then head straight for the middle of nowhere. He made the tracking of this ship a true nightmare. He smiled: a trip designed to be a horror filled adventure for the fossil and his witch. He knew the forms of energy that would block the witch's power, and modified the stealth ship to irradiate an appropriate shield.

Then, he waited. When Zarkon and Hagar were otherwise occupied, he stole the blue stone. He removed his bionic arm with its tracking device, and put it in the pilot's seat of the stealth ship. He put the stone on the floor and a letter in the fake hand.

Smiling, he got out of the stealth ship and sent the launching sequence script from a computer. Let his father think he was betraying him by leaving with his precious pet weapon. The fossil would be sure to throw a fit and follow, to catch and punish his wayward son.

Lotor laughed when he saw the Revenge some time later, taking the same direction as the small craft carrying his arm and the stone. Then the prince departed castle Doom in the newly named Sunset. He didn't look back.

***** ***** *****

* I admit, this observation about the use of space in combat was made by Khan in from the Star Trek film "The Wrath of Khan".