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Pinky, Voltron & the Brain

A Crossover Literary Work of Shameless Fandom

By KittyLynne and The Bandit

Chapter 9

"This is it, I won't be long now, Hagar." Lotor growled into his ship's communicator."I can see the spires of that accursed castle on my monitor, may it rust and rot and fall into the Pit of No Return!"

The Doomian Prince loathed the damned, near-impenetrable Fortress of Goodness and Light. Never, ever would he admit to anyone, not even upon threat of execution, that he was actually glad to see it looming in his sights, and the reason why.

The sense of celebratory anticipation he was feeling wasn't because the fair Allura resided inside those fracking walls of steel, but because seeing that castle meant that he would soon be out of the hellish capsule called a 'Coffin-Cruiser'; a mode of transport that ranked as 'highly abhorrent' on his internalized hate-o-meter. It was disconcerting to be on his back, (a position that should be reserved for other far more enjoyable activities), the padding made his hair crackle with static buildup , and he despised having the lid so close to his face. At best, flying in it gave him a sense of being disconnected from his senses, and at worst, a feeling of rising panic, as if he had been buried alive. On his longer jaunts, he found himself involuntarily scratching at the hatch, trying to get out...or worse, having to divest himself of the facilities for waste elimination.

Where was that Old Witch anyway? What if he couldn't get the hatch open when he landed?

"Hagar, do you read? Answer me!" He commanded loudly, trying to stomp down the touch of alarm.

Hagar cackled to herself as she heard the hint of panic behind the Prince's terse words.

Lotor was claustrophobic, a fact no one else on Doom was privy to, (and if anyone found out by accident, they disappeared rather quickly.) Hagar had known for a long time, since Lotor was a boy, in fact, but chose not to mention it at that time for obvious reasons. Even as an adolescent, Lotor had had a very nasty temper.

So as was her mode of operation, she had filed the knowledge away, and then when the opportunity presented itself, cleverly curried his favor by devising a magical means of transporting the coffin-like pods so that it was a matter of minutes rather than hours, before they reached Planet Arus.

Lotor had been very pleased, so much so that he'd actually thanked her for her contribution, using the pretext that he could see Allura that much quicker, a fallacy that the old witch was happy to overlook as long as it suited her. Being in the Doom Prince's good graces was a advantageous thing, although she rather missed hearing his whimpers and wild ranting after spending hours closed up in a pod. She really didn't understand what the big deal was; she liked the close quarters; flying in the coffin gave her the time and seclusion for her daily meditation without the interruptions and constant jabbering of the infernal robot soldiers Zarkon was so fond of, bless his evil heart.

She checked to see that the third pod her ship was towing was still intact; it was, and she was almost disappointed to see that it was so. She had a very bad feeling about this plot; it reeked with the stench of pending epic failure. But then again, which of Lotor's schemes didn't? She cackled again at the thought, and then debated how long she should let his anxiety build.

"HAGAR!" The feedback was painful, and the witch cringed as the Prince's voice roared into the cockpit accompanied by a high screeching tone. Lotor had reached his limit.

"This is Hagar, my Prince." She replied in a sticky-sweet voice. "My apologies, I had a small glitch with my communicator. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes." Lotor cleared his throat. "Everything's fine, old woman. I was only concerned for your well being."

"I thank you for that, Sire. We are ten minutes away from our targeted destination." The crone replied.

"That long?" The Prince sounded petulant. "I thought we were closer to it than that."

"It's a route we must maintain to remain unseen, so be patient." Hagar reminded him. "Your prissy- um, your Princess will make any inconvenience worth it."

"Ah yes," Lotor sounded much happier. "Yes... soon you are to be mine, Allura!"

Once again, as the Prince droned on and on and on about his favorite obsession to her over the communicator, Hagar tuned him out, concentrating instead on finding a suitable landing spot. The forest should be just about- ah yes, there it was, that Hidden Glen they always used to deploy their various schemes. That they had used the glen so often probably meant it didn't qualify as 'hidden' anymore, but she wasn't interested in quibbling semantics... unless it involved witchcraft, of course.

The three Doomian conveyances hovered over the clearing, and then quietly lowered themselves to rest, looking much like actual coffins descending into the ground. The descent didn't sit well with the Prince, who abruptly abandoned his Princess prattle and fell silent, his hands frantically searching for the 'release hatch' switch.

He found it and coughed to cover his ragged sigh of relief.

The minute he felt the slight thud and vibration that told him he was on solid ground, he opened the hatch and scrambled out. Once he stood, he straightened his tunic, donned and adjusted his battle helmet, and then waited with impatience for Hagar to emerge from her own transport.

Back at the Castle of Lions, everyone was scrambling to carry out 'The Plan -Phase Two'. In a small shipping dock next to Castle Control, which now served as a makeshift hangar, a feisty mouse now known to all and sundry as John Brain and a laid-back Pidge were briefing his new team on the new weaponry, potential perils and pitfalls of the new and improved Big Suit, which loomed impressively behind them.

Cheddar, Cheesey and two of their eight children nodded in understanding as the mouse and boy finished their presentations.

"Each of you will be in one of the extremities," the Brain concluded. "And as for me, well, I'll be the head."

"You'll form the head," The pilot of Green Lion corrected.

"No, no, no, I'll literally be the head!" The mouse genius snapped. "I'm always the head!"

"Whatever." The boy shrugged. He guessed that explained the tiny neck hole he had found on the mouse's transport. He chuckled at the absurd image that rose in his mind of a little mouse head on top of the ship's large body; the scale would be comparable to seeing his own head on top of Voltron's mighty shoulders, a thought that made him giggle.

The Brain scowled at the amused boy. "Spare me your misguided hilarity, Midge."

"The name's Pidge," Pidge replied, his giggles fading abruptly. "And yours is gonna be 'Tiny Noggin' while you're flying that ship."

"Call me what you will." The Brain retorted. "But know that I get results."

Captain Keith strode into the room, the firm click of the heels of his white boots instantly commanding attention.

"Lotor and Hagar were just spotted, team!" He grimly informed the assembled rescuers."They've landed at Hidden Glen!"

"Why do they call it that?" Pidge asked.

Keith pondered, taken aback. "I suppose it's because at one time people didn't know it was there, they couldn't find it, and therefore it was 'hidden'."

"But we know right where it is, and so do Lotor and Hagar. Isn't it time we find another name for it?"

"Yeah, I guess...but it really isn't our job to name places. That would be the narrators job...let's ask them, one of them is sure to come up with a better one!" Keith said. With a wide smile, he turned as if to face an unseen being and winked flirtatiously."Personally, I think she who must not be named could find a really good name for it."

Pidge scoffed, "Oh please- her? The person who ends up in Michigan when she's trying to go to Toledo? I think The Bandit would do better!" The Green Lion Pilot turned and gave a thumbs up to an invisible being, and then quickly jumped aside as a falling anvil landed right next to him, putting a deep divot into the floor tiles.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times; show some respect!" Keith hissed, staring at the huge anvil with widened eyes. "She likes you, but don't push it! She's got the power to write any of us out at any time!"

"Yeah...she does that, then she's an EvilLynne." Pidge muttered, also looking askance at the anvil. "But she won't do it, she's too nice. She doesn't have the-"

"Please allow me be your conductor for your return trip to reality, gentlemen." The Brain cut in sarcastically. "The renaming of Hidden Glen isn't important at this time. In case you've forgotten, we have a situation, a code red, a highly calamitous occurrence developing here! Lotor is on your back doorstep and he's scratching to get in! I suggest you leave the semantics for now and get a move on!"

The Black Lion pilot nodded grimly. "He's right, Pidge. Apologize later, right now we need to save Antonio and foil Lotor's scheme; Allura, Lance and Hunk are already on their way. Let's get to our lions!"

"Fine. There's nothing for me to apologize for anyway." Pidge muttered.

Keith stared at him. "What was that?"

"I said, right Chief! Let's go right away!"

With that, the two pilots dashed out of the room and down the hall. A minute later they ran by again, this time in the right direction.

The Brain, lagging behind with Cheddar and family, heard the distinctive sound of launch chutes deploying, then pounding footsteps. Seconds later a loud, long yell was heard, followed by an echoing thud, then dead silence.

The mice immediately scurried the rest of the way to Control, where they found Keith and Coran kneeling and looking down into Launch Chute Number Three.

Cheddar and Cheesy exchanged concerned glances and then looked fearfully around the room as if scanning for some imaginary presence. The Brain closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief as Keith's concerned tones drifted to their mousy ears.

"Pidge! Are you okay? Coran, get help! I think he slipped off the trapeze bar."

"Good Lord!" The older man ran to the control panel and pressed a red, cross shaped switch.

"I warned him- I told him not to mess with her," The Voltron Captain loudly whispered to the watching rodents, who nodded vehemently. "Writers are dangerous...they'll do anything to put a twist in a plot! I tried to tell him, but the kid never listens!"

"I'm listening now," Pidge's feeble tones echoed up from the bottom of the launch chute. "I sorry...so so sorry..."

"Medic to Castle Control. Medic to Castle Control." A tinny voice quickly announced over and over on the intercom system.

"Tell me again how this team has never lost to a RoBeast?" The Brain moaned to Cheddar, who shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

"It's going to be up to us, then, Mr. Cheddar." The Brain said firmly. "If the boy is severely injured, then they cannot form Voltron."

Back in the Perfectly Visible Glen, Hagar stretched lazily, and then climbed out of her ship.

"What a nice, relaxing trip," She addressed the scowling Lotor pleasantly. "It's amazing how much a little time alone in a tight, confined, virtually airless space can do for one's evil spirit."

"Yes, yes. Amazing." He waved a dismissive hand, eager to change the subject. "We don't have time for chit-chat. It's time to set our master plan in motion."

"Your master plan," The crone corrected sharply. "I'm not taking any credit for this one."

"How kind and unusual of you to step aside and leave the glory to me, Old Witch." The Prince looked pleased at her generosity.

"Not at all," Hagar mumbled, nervously adjusting her robe. "If Zarkon wants to know who was responsible, don't even mention my name."

"If you insist," Lotor smirked. "Now, Hagar, release our creature so it might wreck its wrath upon all of Arus!"

"As you command, Sire!" Hagar acknowledged. She reached behind her to grab her staff. Waving it with somewhat less than her usual flare at the third pod, she magically opened it, while muttering, "Here goes nothing, and I do mean nothing."

A great rumbling sigh emitted from the coffin ship, and slowly two large feet, followed by an immense armor clad white body, topped by a large eared head with horns rose from the transport. It was Pinky- but yet not Pinky.

"Arise, great beast, your Prince is need of you!" Hagar screeched to the giant mouse.

The creature blinked at her sleepily, then stood up. The hag waved her staff, bathing her creation in rays of lazon. He started to expand, on his way to his new height of eighty feet, four and one quarter inches.

"That's it. that's it..." the witch encouraged as he swelled. When the beast was completely full-grown, she turned to Lotor.

"What do you think, Your Highness?" She asked, slyly. "Impressive, yes?"

The Pinky-Beast regarded them impassively, while it did so, a large paw lifted to the huge nose and began to pick it.

"Gross." Lotor shuddered, and perused the gigantic rodent with a critical gaze. "The horns, spiked collar and breastplates are a nice touch."

"Thank you, Sire." Hagar dipped her head briefly.

"Wish he looked even meaner, and he still acts stupidly. But his appearance will throw them off, and his lack of wit will make him easy to control. He will be a splendid RoBeast."

"If you say so, Sire." Hagar agreed.

The Pinky-Beast opened its mouth. "ALLLLARRAAAAA!" It roared, making the leaves shake and fall from the trees all around him. Critters scrambled in every direction, running or flapping their wings at top speed to get away.

"Yes, my rodent friend, soon you will be able to see your friend Allura!" The Doom Prince shouted. "All you have to do is bring her to me, and you and I will share her friendship, forever!"

"ZORT!" The Pinky-Beast threw back its head and stretched out its arms in exultation. Lotor and Hagar lunged in opposite directions as two massive oaks came crashing down into the glen.

"Watch it, you idiot!" The Prince snarled as he picked himself up. "You're gigantic now, be more aware of your surroundings!"

"PPPOIIITT!" The beast burped out apologetically, dropping its arms.

"Yes, well, see that it doesn't happen again!" Lotor commanded. "Now listen. I don't know what you've done in the past, but it's nothing to what you're about to do now. It's gut check time. You are battling for your true love. Win one for her, and for the Doomies!"

"A pep talk of cliches. Oh yes, that's going to ensure his success." Hagar said, as she sat down on one of the trunks of the fallen trees. She shook her staff and cackled. "Go team go! Rah, rah, rah, sis boom bah!"

Lotor gave her a dirty look, which only made the hag cackle louder. He opened his mouth, then closed it, deciding to ignore her for the moment; when victory was his, he'd be in a better position to deal harshly with the old bat.

Turning to his RoBeast he raised his arms in a grand, sweeping gesture.

"Venture onward, Mighty Antonio! Plunder and pillage the castle ramparts to deliver my Beloved from an mediocre existence of eternal saccharine bliss!"

The mouse-beast blinked down at him, clearly confused.

The Prince tried again; repeated the gesture.

"Depart, Great Beast! Now is the time to blitzkrieg! Demolish the House of Perpetual Saintliness and retrieve its Monarch!"

The Pinky-Beast looked even more confused and lifted a mighty paw to scratch behind one long, green horn.

Lotor stamped his feet in frustration. "Dammit! Don't make me come up there and hurt you! Just get your white furry ass over to the castle and grab the Princess! Capice!?"

This command the creature seemed to take in. With a large grin, it turned and stomped toward the Castle of Lions, leaving his master, mistress and what now had become the Totally Demolished Glen, far behind.

"Great Googly Moogly!" Hunk gasped as he spied a RoBeast moving toward the castle. "Wouldja get a load of the size of that rodent?! Time to call a Giant Exterminator, and quick!"

"Oh no," Allura whispered, as she spotted the titanic sized mouse headed their way. Putting herself on the Castle's external comm, she reached out to her romantic, but no longer little, friend. "Antonio, it's me, Allura! Do you remember me? Please stop! Look at you, you're stomping and squishing lots of things! I know you don't want to do that...you care about others..."

There was no sound other than the thundering crash of the Pinky-Beast's footsteps as he continued to advance toward the Lions.

"ANTONIO!" Allura shouted, then dropped her head despairingly on the console of Blue Lion and sobbed.

"Princess..." Keith looked stricken. He reached out a hand, placed it on the screen where her shaking shoulder could be seen. "I know. It's no good, he's under Doom's control now. And with Pidge unavailable, we can't form Voltron, so we have to use four lions."

Allura's head came up and she turned to glare at Keith's image on her screen. "How about helping me fix this rather than doing a recap of the bad things I already know about?"

The Black Lion pilot blanched. "Uh...I'm sorry. I want to help, I didn't mean to be insensitive to your feelings..." He shook his head, looking sad. "What can I say? I'm just a cotton-headed ninny muggins!"

Allura blinked, then laughed a little. "Yes you are sometimes, but that's okay. You always come through for us."

Hunk and Lance exchanged glances as Allura reached to the screen and touched Keith's hand with her own, but kept quiet. In their estimation, a guy who had it so bad for a lady that he'd willingly expose himself to unceasing future ridicule from his posse by referring to himself as a 'cotton-headed ninny muggins' in their presence, deserved a special moment with said lady.

"I'll come through for you this time." Keith vowed. "Count on it."

Lance spoke up grimly. "As will we all. So, we'll go out and face Antonio as four lions. But Princess, keep in mind that if he doesn't remember us, if he can't help himself, saving him means we have to put him out of his misery. I know the little guy wouldn't want this. It's a far better thing to do than to leave him to their evil devices."

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Lance!" A familiar, acerbic voice broke in. "Pidge may have a broken wing, but you still have a Brain at your disposal!"

To be continued!