Author's Note: Happy Memorial Day - also known as Summer Kick-Off Weekend! Whoohoo! Just a warning, this chapter is a little bit upsetting. And I still own nothing except my characters.

To Sally On - Thanks for the message! You're awesome.

To Wade Wells - Yes, Lotor DID! And your man WILL!

Title Song: "Big Bang" by Rock Mafia ft. Miley Cyrus (yes, I know, it's also the theme song for Mob Wives...oh well. And if you can't beat 'em, just yell "BIG ANGE!")

Keith paced around the control panel and main computer as Castle Control, hands behind his back as though he was carrying them around. The rest of the team huddled together near the entrance, watching their captain as he looked like he might lose his wits. And his lunch.

"So...does anyone know anything about this Christiane person?" Lance asked in a whisper.

"Nope," Hunk answered. "Not me. He's never mentioned her before. But obviously she means something to him. I've never seen Keith like this."

"I suppose I could do an Alliance data search," Pidge mused. "I don't have a last name, but I'm sure it won't be too difficult - I mean, Christiane isn't exactly the most common name of names." He paused. "However, that would also mean hacking into the Garrison's computer system."

"Well, that's not a problem for you, Pidge," Vince encouraged him. "I mean, you're a technological genius! You could hack into their computer system with your eyes closed."

Pidge and Hunk exchanged a glance. "I could," Pidge replied, shaking his head, "and if it was Wade in power, I'd do it easily, and I wouldn't give it a second thought. But with Lenora at the helm of the Alliance, I won't go hacking into their computer system behind her back. Our friendship is more important." He grinned. "Besides, she knows my handiwork."

Allura nodded in agreement. "Definitely. We're not sneaking around behind the Space Marshal's back." She glanced back over at her boyfriend, still pacing around nervously as though entire worlds hung in the balance. "Does anyone want to ask Keith?"

"Hey, no offense, Princess, but since you're the one dating him, I think you should be the one to ask him," Lance countered.

Larmina leapt to her aunt's defense. "She tried, Lance. We both tried, on the entire ride home from Pollux. Keith's not answering us. So unless one of you guys has a bright idea, I guess we're not gonna find anything out until we hear from Len." She eyed Hunk, Pidge, and Lance warily.

"I vote for Lance to say something," Hunk offered.

"Me? Why me?" The pilot looked aggravated.

"You're the second-in-command."

Lance threw his hands up in the air. "Sheesh." Despite his opposition, he was secretly glad he'd been selected to speak with Keith. He was just as curious as the rest of them to find out who this Christiane person was, and he knew that if anyone could beat the information out of their captain, it was him.

But before he had even closed half the distance, Keith shot out warningly, "Don't even think about it, McClain. I don't feel like talking."

Sammy must have known what the problem was with the Air Team captain. That would explain why, when Jeff sat down at the bar with a disoriented expression on his face, the chef immediately brought him out a half-full shotglass of...what in seven hells was it?

"Absinthe, Captain Aki," the chef informed him. "I have a contraband bottle that I keep on hand. You look like you need it."

"Um...okay. Thanks, I think." Jeff studied the clear green liquid.

"That stuff is scary, Mate. I wouldn't drink it if I were you."

Jeff looked up at at the Land Team captain forlornly. "I don't think there's a scary-enough drink in the world to numb how I'm feeling right now, Cliff. I can't get her face out of my mind. I can't stop thinking about her."

"That's okay. That's normal." Cliff sighed, wondering why he was the one who always had to talk his friends down off the ledge. "By the way, just in case you're interested, you need ice water, a sugar cube, and a slotted spoon to drink that."

"What? And how in seven hells do you know that?"

A small laugh escaped from Cliff's mouth. "Let's just say you can't spend as much time with Aidan Dalloway and Lance McClain as I did and not learn a few of the finer points about drinking." He paused to look down at his friend. "See? That took your mind off Christiane for a moment, didn't it?"

Jeff sighed. "You probably heard about what I said to Lisa, too."

Cliff nodded wordlessly. He didn't think it was best to go into the semantics of that situation right now. Needless to say, Lisa - being the most compassionate person on the team - understood the situation and had already forgiven Jeff for his outburst.

Jeff buried his face in his hands. "I am such a jerk."

"C'mon, Mate. Be a little easier on yourself. You're a traumatized man." Cliff fixed his gaze in the direction of the kitchen. "Oh, Sammy? Could we get all of the accoutrements for the absinthe out here, please? I think Jeff needs his drink."

"Certainly." Sammy returned with a pitcher of water and a sugar cube. "Let me see if I can find something resembling a slotted spoon."

As the chef disappeared into the kitchen again, Jeff looked at the green liquid in the glass hesitantly. "Ciroc vodka, it ain't," he cracked sorrowfully. He thought about Christiane again and how much she loved her Ciroc. And how much he loved her. "She's the reason I'm alive. Oh my God, Cliff, what am I gonna do without her?"

"You shut your mouth right now, Jeffrey." Cliff looked at his friend fiercely. "We're going to get her back."

Aidan, Taye, David, and Morgan sat silently in the hangar, seated on the bench by the wall-mounted intercom unit. Each dressed in their Albegas flight suit, no one was in the mood for talking. Morgan, David, and Taye had all been at Sullivan's Bar the night before and hadn't even realized that Christiane had been kidnapped. The guilt weighed heavily on all of them, but mostly on Morgan.

She didn't know why, exactly, she felt so bound to protect Christiane. She hadn't ended up living happily ever after with Keith, so really, no one ever would have blamed her if she truly despised the girl. Or at the very least, not cared about her. But they were bound together anyway; Christiane was seriously involved with one of Morgan's best friends, and as for Keith...Morgan was the link between them. She had known Keith better than anyone, even better than his own sister.

"If I hadn't thought to go to Sullivan's last night," Taye began quietly, "she'd still be here with us right now."

"Oh no you don't, Benton." Aidan stood up and looked down at the red-suited pilot furiously. "Do not go down that road. This is nobody's fault except the people who took her. I don't want any one of you to feel guilty about what happened, because it's not your fault. Am I understood?"

"Aidan," Morgan offered up gently, "it's hard not to feel guilty."

The Albegas captain sighed. "I know, Morgan. Don't you think I feel bad, too? I went off to drink with my ex-girlfriend instead of being with my team. My team needed me last night, and I wasn't there." He paused. "So believe me when I say I know how hard it is to not feel guilty over this. But we can't. Because we didn't do it - that blasted Wade did."

His three teammates looked up at him in shock. For as long as they'd known Aidan Dalloway - and for Morgan, it was verging on sixteen years - he had never shown his humility. He'd always been cocky and arrogant, secure in his looks and his masculinity. Morgan could see how Lisa and the responsibility as Albegas captain had changed her old friend for the better.

She liked this new Aidan.

As they sat in total, shocked silence for a moment, the intercom unit on the wall began to blink. "Albegas," Kelly's voice came over the intercom, "we've got a fix on Christiane's signal. It's being loaded into the three mecha as we speak. Go! Go!"

Aidan gave them a wry smile. "You heard the lady. Let's go get Little K back!"

As the hangar bay opened, the black mecha shot out first, followed by the red, and then the blue. As the three robots shot out into the sky, the Space Marshal and the First Officer stood out on the office balcony, gripping the railing and watching. The signal on Christiane had been sent to them, to the Explorer, to Arus, and to Pollux. They were going to get her back.

"Good luck, Albegas," the Space Marshal whispered quietly into the air.

Her body was sore. It was also damp with perspiration - hers and Lotor's - from both the humid air in his chambers and the sexual acts he'd put her through.

Lotor's chambers were beautiful. He had a four-poster bed, complete with burgundy velvet comforters and bed curtains edged in gold; silk sheets in a muted gold color that were the smoothest, sleekest sheets her bare skin had ever touched; tens of pillows in a variegated assortment of complementary colors. And candles - never before had she seen such an arrangement of candles, it seemed like a thousand flickering lights surrounding his bed.

He had put a lot of thought and effort into seducing her. If she hadn't despised him so much, she could very easily have found herself enjoying the situation.

He hadn't raped her violently as she'd expected. No, he took his time with her. He was gentle, patient, and - perhaps worst of all - masterful. He had teased her mercilessly, tormented her beyond the edge of reason and sanity, brought her to the brink of pleasure and beyond. She was only glad that she had been receiving injections of birth control four times a year, otherwise she was afraid of what the consequences of his actions might be.

She could have fought him off, but she knew that if she had, the outcome would have been much worse for her. King Lotor had sadistic tendencies as well, and if she had fought him, he would not have hesitated to break her with pain. She'd seen his flogger and felt his blow to her face. She was sure he owned far worse implements and could do so much more harm to her than what she'd already experienced.

"Christiane," he murmured to her, trailing kisses from the top of her head and down the side of her face, "you are definitely the crown jewel in my harem. In fact, should the stars align just right for you, I would make you my queen without hesitation."

Staring up at the ceiling, Christiane merely blinked. The only thing that had gotten her through the most intimate moments with Lotor was pretending that he was Jeff. She could do that for a short period of time. Hours, definitely. Days, perhaps. Not a lifetime. Definitely not a lifetime.

She couldn't tell him that. She couldn't make the situation worse, not when she was so close to escaping. She surveyed the room, noting where her clothes and shoes were scattered. She covered her actions with stroking Lotor's hair, caressing his face, and gently rubbing his shoulders. He seemed to enjoy what she was doing, and he closed his eyes as he laid down next to her.

"My lord," she whispered to him softly in the most seductive voice she could conjure up, "you flatter me. You are far too kind."

"Oh, Christiane, the things I would do to you...the pleasure I would give you...all you have to do is tell me yes and I will make you the happiest, most satisfied woman in the Denubian Galaxy." He gazed at her lovingly, shooting her a half-smile that she guessed meant that he was truly happy.

"My lord, again, you flatter me." She drew his face in for a gentle kiss, hoping that the sweetness of it would relax him enough to lull him to sleep. "I am honored by your words of praise."

Not used to a woman who didn't struggle against his advances, Lotor found himself falling for the girl. It was a secret pleasure for him that this girl was the sister of that wretched Voltron captain. For Christiane to become his queen might be an even bigger slap in the face than if it was Allura sharing his throne.

She felt the slightest bit relieved as she noticed that Lotor was beginning to drift off into sleep. Once she was sure, she rolled off the bed and dressed herself as quickly and as quietly as she could. When she was fully dressed again, she picked up a small vanity stool in the corner of the room. Bracing herself, she smashed it upon the sleeping king's head, rendering him fully unconscious.

Christiane felt terrible about what she had done, but he'd left her with no other choice. She had to get out of there, and the only way to do it was to ensure that he wouldn't catch up with her while she was rushing to the hangar.

Creeping out of Lotor's chambers and into the hallway, Christiane used the knowledge she's gained from her seer abilities to locate the hangar. Though she wasn't the best pilot, she strapped herself into the smallest jet she could find and opened the starship's hangar door. Her talents as a systems analyst would cover for the rest.

Unfortunately, as soon as she took off, the starship began following her. Shooting at her. She concluded that whoever was piloting the ship must have seen that the hangar door was opened and was shooting at whoever was stealing the ship. She tried to outmaneuver its blasts, but she wasn't good enough, and the pilot of Lotor's starship was much better. A single blast took out her engine, and she felt her small ship falling towards the nearest planet.

The impact was jarring. The small ship tumbled around, sighing and creaking and smashing as though it was going to shatter into a million pieces. Finally, with a big bang, it came to a stop against...an ice wall?

She didn't recognize the planet she crashed on at first. The only thing she realized was her communicator was out, her shields were out - everything was out except her visuals, which was how she saw the ice wall. Cautiously, she cracked open the hangar door, and a gust of ice-cold air burst into the ship.

Icicles. Freezing cold. Blast it, I'm on Crydor.