Disclaimer: I do not own either Voltron or its original Japanese Golion. Such is the property of their original creators and English dubbers. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

(A/N: For some reason, I don't like this chapter. I don't know why. I started it exactly how I planned to start it and ended it exactly where I wanted it to end. All the important events that I wanted to occur in this chapter occurred, by all accounts this should be a good, chapter. I just hate it. So, I'm asking you, as the reader, maybe you can figure out what the hell I did wrong that makes me dislike this chapter so much so that I can improve upon it next time. Please and thank you.

-Renkon )

The Sindariin

Chapter Six:

General Gibra, Sinclin's right hand man appeared walking briskly as Fala was leaving the afore mentioned Emperor's office. She followed him with her eyes, noting the strained tension behind his golden pupil-less eyes and turned to follow him back into the office, curious over what could make a man with such refined military discipline so tense... and promptly had the door shut in her face.

On the other side of the door Sincline looked back up from the same document he's been reading when his lovely bride-to-be had first interrupted intruded on him. He frowned at his General in irritation, "What is it now?"

Gibra clicked his heels together and saluted with military discipline hoping that protocol would protect him from the metaphorical shrapnel his Emperor's explosive temper was about to unleash upon hearing his news. "We have a problem on Altea."

The heterogeneous hybrid raised one chalk-white eyebrow. "Go on."

Nervous at his Emperor's seemingly calm exterior the General continued cautiously. "It appears that upon hearing the news of Altea's surrender the Lion pilots became enraged and... and highjacked the Lion mechs and escaped."

Gibra fell silent, keeping his eyes fixed on Sincline as the young Emperor digested this information and wondered if he was about to louse his life in the younger man's effort to vent his rage.

"Four men somehow managed to steal five Lions...?" Out of context the question might have sounded idiotic but Sincline had asked it in a low deadly tone that warned the General that he already had an idea of what was going on and he was already figuring out a plan.

"N-no. It seems that Blue Lion remains on Altea." Gibra answered.

The Emperor remained stoic, his expression melting into an unreadable mask of bland indifference that the General knew only hid his sovereign's deeper roiling emotions. It was the same expression he had worn when dealing with his father aboard the Angband. It was the face he wore when he didn't want anyone to guess his thoughts. "My father destroyed their cannon, they cannot attack the planet directly..." He said this more to himself than to Gibra, then to the General, "What was their last known course vector?"

Here the General hesitated fearing his king's reaction. "We don't know, Your Eminence. We didn't have any regiment stationed on Altea at the time and the Alteans did not think to track their course."

Gibra held his breath as Sincline pushed back his chair and stood. His eyes unconsciously flicked down to the young Emperor's sword-belt noting that the deadly lazon blade was present and within reach of the volatile despot before returning his attention back to the man himself. The heterogeneous hybrid began pacing the room in agitation. "They must be hiding out on another rebel planet, one of the members of their pathetic 'Leo Alliance', feh."

He looked like he was about to say more but at that moment an aide from the legislative office entered with a new tray of datadisks for the Emperor to read over. But the poor aide didn't even make it half-way to the desk. Sincline in his rage over the loss of the Lions snarled in frustration and seized his sword, slashing the blameless aide across the chest from shoulder to thigh. The man fell to the floor dead, his blood spilling out to seep into the carpet on which he had fallen. The violence and blood-letting soothed his immediate ire but his wrath still burned silently under the surface of his once again placid expression. His eyes focused on the tray of datadisks now scattered on the floor.

"Pick those up before this idiot's blood makes them unreadable."

The General rushed to comply with the order.

"You will deploy troops to Altea in case the Golion pilots attempt to steal Blue Lion as well. Four capitol ships, six fighter squads to each and some death-black beastmen and mecha-black beastmen." He sat back down behind his desk looking suddenly tired. He pressed a button on the side of his desk and a holoprojector appeared. He called up a miniature map of the galaxy and a galactic calendar. "The planets closets to Altea at this point in the galactic rotation are Jarra, Amazone and Doriath. They wouldn't try hiding on one of our own planets but deploy another regiment to Doriath just in case. Kogane is just the sort of pragmatic bastard that might try it for no other reason than to piss me off. Send regular patrols to Jarra and Amazone as well to check for signs of the Lions. Maybe shake down the locals a little bit... On second thought, don't make the patrols regular, search them at random intervals so that they can't adapt to any sort of schedule, that way you'll be more likely to catch them off guard."

Gibra set the tray of data disks on the desk where they belonged, his hand passing through the map, temporarily distorting the image. "Yes, Your Eminence."

The General was about the leave when Sincline called him back. "One more thing, Gibra." He rested his elbows on the desk, studying the map. "Deploy a spy satellite to Heracles as well. Its pretty far from Altea at this point in the galactic rotation and would take them several weeks to get there but..." But its that bitch Amue's home planet! "... its the only one in their Alliance that has its own space fleet. Its the only one capable of offering the Lions fuel and maintenance."

"Yes sir!" Gibra saluted and hurried to carry out his sovereign's orders.

"And send someone to clean that up." He added, referring to the aide lying dead on the carpet.

...

Callous calculating sapphire eyes studied maps and schematics of Demon Castle. One strand of golden hair falling out of place and into her eyes as she ran her hands through her hair in frustration. It was approaching a week since her cousin had been taken prisoner by the Galran forces, almost a week since Sincline staged his coup, nearly a week that Fala had been at the mercy of the deluded sex-obbsessed sadist. Princess Amue groaned in frustration and once again ran her nails through her long flaxen hair. She had been pouring over maps, schematics and photos of the Imperial Capitol since she first heard news of the Altean princess' capture and had not yet found a way of rescuing her short of a full frontal assault. In her aggravation the Heraclesian princess threw an autoreader projecting a three-dementional floor plan of the castle across the room. It hit the far will with a shrill clank and clattered to the floor, its projection flickering out.

It was at that moment that Ryou chose to enter. The young rebel leader gave his comrade an appraising glance before walking over to the felled autoreader and picked the battered and abused device up from its resting place. "Don't break these." He said. "Its hard to get new ones out here."

He walked over to stand beside the princess placing the battered autoreader on the desk.

"I don't know what to do, Ryou." She muttered gravely. "When I think about what that monster will do to her, what he probably already has done to her..." She trembled violently at the memory of the traumatic time she'd spent as Sincline's... fill-in. There were other words that described what she had been better, 'prisoner', 'pleasure-slave', 'whore', but that wasn't what she had really been to him, no. Amue had been Fala's stand-in, the resemblance between the two of them was eery and it was for her resemblance to the Altean princess that Amue had been forced to endure the Galran prince's (now Emperor's) sexual attentions.

'You'll have to do until I can have Fala.'

She buried her face in her hands at the memory of his words. Amue knew better than anyone just what a woman was to endure when they were unlucky enough to attract Sincline's attention. Ryou wrapped his arms around her to offer what comfort he could and Amue jumped at the contact, ever since her experience she had felt irrationally anxious and frightened by actions of intimacy by men, even friends like Ryou.

"Please don't." She whispered.

"Amue..." He whispered, only tightening his hold on her slight frame. "Amue, you need to calm down. You're not going to help Fala this way, you need rest, you need to relax."

"I'll relax once I know my cousin is safe!" The princess snarled back. "Now let go of me! You know I don't like to be touched!"

The young rebel respectfully released the beautiful warrior-princess. "I have an alternate solution for you." He said changing from the soft soothing tone of a friend and switching to the confident commanding voice of a military commander. He withdrew another autoreader from his pocket and handed it to the princess. "A message from Altea."

"The Lions are coming to attack the capitol!" Amue gasped in hopeful glee.

"Er.. no..." Ryou shifted uncomfortably. "Just watch it."

The Heraclesian princess switched on the autoreader and a small hologram of Raible the Strategist appeared. "Princess Amue, Shirogane Ryou," the transparent blue-tinted image of Raible bowed politely. "As you know by now, our own Princess Fala has been captured by the Galra Empire. As anxious as I am for her safety and wish to see her returned to us, I must urge you, please do not attempt a rescue! Altea has temporarily surrendered to the Empire in order to buy her safety and I fear that any rescue attempt would only result in aggravating this delicate situation."

"What the fuck!" Amue snarled and nearly slammed the delicate information storage device on her desk.

Ryou placed his own hand over hers in an attempt to sooth her volatile temper. "Listen to the rest of what he has to say." He rewound the recording enough for her to hear the part they had spoken over.

"... this delicate situation. Instead, I ask that you steal a ship for us. The massive Space Cannon was destroyed in Daibazaal's attack and without it the Lions have no way of either attacking the Galran capitol or rescuing Fala. [Green Lion Pilot] thinks he could devise a new way of penetrating the barrier if he could study a Galran ship. I would also like to remind you that we are now also without a pilot for Blue Lion and cannot form Golion. Shirogane Ryou, your older brother was the first pilot of Blue Lion before his untimely death. If you can steal a ship and deliver it to the rest of the Golion Team you will be solving both our problems at once."

The image flickered and Raible's message began again. Amue switched it off.

"So, you'll be leaving then?" She looked up at him, sadness trembling behind her sapphire eyes.

"I'd like to." He admitted. "And in any other situation I would be, but... you've just been killing yourself over these half-baked rescue plans for Fala, I think you need to be the one to do it more. You need to be the one to pilot Blue Lion."

"You mean it!" Any time either of them ever wanted to do anything they always had to argue about it seemingly endlessly before it ever actually got done. Both wanting to go alone and not put the other in danger. The fact that Ryou was not only letting her take this mission but actually suggesting that she do meant more to her than all the stars in the heavens. It was his way of admitting that she was a warrior in her own right, independent and self reliant, not the delicate and fragile princess that he'd been treating her like since she'd first joined his rebel group. In her elation Amue leaped from her chair and threw her arms around him.

The young warrior was thrown off balance by her outburst and the two of them clattered to the floor.

"I could kiss you." Amue admitted now sitting in his lap.

"I thought you didn't like being touched?" He shot back.

"Whoever said you could touch me while I do it?" She grinned wickedly while gazing into his ebony eyes. "Now shut-up and take it."

The Heraclesian princess pressed her lips gently, almost hesitantly, against Ryou's. One hand reached up to stroke his thick dark hair while the other snaked around his back to hold him closer to her. She didn't pull away when he began to kiss back and the rebel leader took this as a sign of progress. He parted his lips slightly, inviting her to deepen the kiss, when she did not he did. His tong darted out to lick across her lower lip, requesting entrance... And it was then that she pulled away.

"No." She whispered softly wiping her mouth. "No tong, never any tong. I hate saliva."

Ryou sighed in disappointment. He cared a great deal about Amue. He enjoyed her company, her quick wit, her calm composure in tense situations, her burning passion and commitment to the fight against the Empire. She was radiant and breathtaking in the midst of battle, his own Warrior-Princess. It pained him to see the lasting scars that Sincline's rape had left on her heart. The anxiety and stress the trauma had caused her was the one thing standing between them and he would be lying if he said that he wasn't frustrated by her frigidity, but beyond her unwillingness for physical contact he just plain hated seeing her in pain.

"Why won't you tell me about it?" Asked Ryou.

She scooted away from him, folding her legs under her Amue sat on her knees and wrapped her arms about her shoulders as if shielding herself from an unseen threat.

"Amue...?"

"Can we not talk about this, please?"

"I might be able to help." He pressed reaching a hand out to tuck a stray strand of fair-hair behind her ear.

She smacked his hand away in sudden and inexplicable anger. "What could you possibly do!" She snarled. "You can't help me any more than you can turn back time and prevent my rape, or stoped Sincline from using me as a hostage against Alor, or bring Samson back to life! No, Ryou, you can't help me."

Her rejection hurt, but what else had he expected? It was the same answer whenever he asked. 'No, I won't tell you.' 'You don't want to know.' 'I don't want you to see me that way.' 'You can't help me.' He cared about her so much and wished there was something he could do or say to sooth her injured heart but that was a battle field he was unfamiliar with and was unskilled in fighting. He didn't know what to do or say to help her. So, he did the only thing that he could do, he changed the subject as she had requested.

"You're going to regroup with the Golion Team to pilot Blue Lion." He said standing and grinned back down at her. "But don't you dare think I'm gonna let you break into an Imperial ship-yard and steal a ship without my help."

...

Sincline had tried to return to the business of actually ruling his Empire after Gibra had left but found that he could not concentrate. He expected to, any moment, hear an alarm sound through out the castle, the Lions were attacking. He imagined Kogane inside his Black Lion cockpit shouting a battle cry and tearing through the very walls to rescue the princess. He imagined Fala running into his arms and full-bore away from the Emperor whom was willing to lay the galaxy at her feet. She would choose a slave over him. Sincline snarled in his frustration slamming his datapad down on the desk and stood. The slaves that were busy cleaning up the body of the dead legislative aide all jumped in sudden fear. He stalked passed them, ignoring their terrified stares and presence entirely, storming down the corridor the anxious Emperor headed for the throne room.

He stood at the foot of the stairs leading up to the dais and gazed up at the Golden Throne as he had done so many times under the rule of his father. Had the old man still been alive and in power Sincline would be enduring a rough verbal reprimand by the accompaniment of various heavy objects being thrown at him and it felt suddenly odd to not have it happening to him now. It was actually a little disorienting and the young Emperor did not like the idea that he might actually miss his father's abuse.

'You're a weak, pathetic fool!'

Daibazaal's voice echoed through his mind and Sincline once again snarled in his frustration. "Shut-up!"

His father's mocking laughter echoed through his ears and the heterogeneous hybrid wondered if he was not being haunted by the felled former Emperor. He strode defiantly up the steps of the dais and sat upon the Golden Throne.

"Its mine." He informed the empty chamber, his gloved hands possessively curling around the ends of the armrests. "Its mine now, not yours. I am not weak! You were the weak one old man."

The Emperor glared down at his empty throne room. Memories of his father glaring down at him in the exact same way from the exact same position played over and over again before his mind's eye. He saw himself kneeling before the dais entreating his father for forgiveness of whatever the newest was in his long list of failed attempts to defeat Golion. He remembered his father's mawkish laughter, the pain of a heavy gold wine goblet colliding with his forehead, the sting of the fermented blood and alcohol in his eyes, his father's merciless heckling. Sincline had always believed that Daibazaal had been the problem, he had convinced himself that if the old man was just out of the way then everything would be fine and perfect.

But it wasn't. The Golion pilots were still just as much of a nuisance as always, he might have Altea in his Empire now but so long as their 'heroes' remained alive and free they would never bend to his rule, they would never submit as willingly and readily as others have. He had Fala finally... ah, Fala. Yes, his lovely lady lioness. She had looked breathtaking in his office, her eyes full of the same passion and fire they held while in the midst of a battle. It had been exhilarating to see that inner fire wilt and dim under the realization that she had no choice but to bend to his will. He relished the fact that she was finally wholly and truly his, that he could keep her fire, passion and drive and yet still be able to bend her to his demands. So long as he had Altea he would have Fala and all would be right with the universe.

He was not weak. If he was able to take a woman as willful and headstrong as his bride-to-be, a woman whom was his equal in rank and station and force her to submit to him then he was not weak. Sincline fin Isil, no, he would be Sincline fin Narhand, Sincline the Strong. He would find the rouge Golion pilots and kill them, he would find Kogane and kill him with his own two hands. He would feast on the man's flesh and drink of his blood, he would take Kogane's strength and make it his own. When Sincline was done with him there wouldn't be anything left of Kogane Akira, pilot of Black Lion and Captain of the Golion Team, no. There would only be Emperor Sincline fin Narhand and the tale of his great victory over the greatest enemy the Empire has ever known.

Comforted by this thought he rose from the Golden Throne and went in search of his bride. It was high time she started fulfilling her wifely duties. He had waited long enough.

...

Fala had nothing to do after leaving Sincline's office. She had no friends on Galra, had already explored all of the castle that she wished to explore and highly doubted Sincline would have allowed her to go to the areas she didn't wish to see. She also doubted she wouldn't be allowed to leave the castle. And so the Altean princess had retreated into her chambers for a lack of any other place to go. She paced around her spacious sitting room contemplating the dreary and hopeless future that had been set out before her. Marriage to Sincline was less appealing to her than having her appendix removed with a rusty spoon. If she could just survive it until Kogane and the rest of the Lions came to rescue her. Just until Kogane...

'Its been almost a week. Where are you, Kogane?' She though.

As if sensing her thoughts and wishing to put an end to them her hated husband-to-be entered the chamber without so much as a knock of courtesy. Fala froze in her pacing, never in all the time that she had been living (if you could call this 'living') on Galra had he invaded her suit. The Altean princess had come to think of it as a sanctuary almost. It was a bit of a jarring reminder that this was his planet, his castle, he ruled here and he could do as he pleased. Another wave of revulsion shuddered through her at the realization, she had no safe havens from him so long as she was on Galra. Still she raised her chin with regal pride and said, "Entering a lady's chamber without announcement or permission may be acceptable in Galran society, Sincline, but I will not tolerate it."

To this he just grinned in malicious amusement.

The smile unnerved her but she continued. "If I am to be Empress of your Empire I expect to be treated with the proper difference. You will not enter my rooms without first knocking and requesting permission."

"How cute."

He continued to smile and crossed the distance between them. His black-gloved hand closed around her wrist and her body was pulled into his. The Galran Emperor held the Altean princess in a vice-like embrace, gazing down at her with a mingled expression of amusement, affection and lust playing across his exotic alien features. Sincline leaned down and pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. His tong darted aggressively out, forcing her lips open. Fala moaned in shocked protest and struggled against his hold. Her hand flew up to collide with the side of his face in a loud smack that echoed through the sitting room chamber. He withdrew his tong and leaned back to glare at her, frustration and barely contained rage clear on his face. His hand once again closed around her wrist, this time with enough pressure to bruise.

"Do not ever strike me again." The heterogeneous hybrid ordered in a soft threatening tone that promised pain and punishment if she ever dared to disobey. "I think I have been rather tolerant of your attempts to gut me with knives and table forks, but as soon as we are married I expect you to treat me with the 'proper difference'."

"Can I hold you to the same standard?" Fala asked, painfully wrenching her wrist free from his grip and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Sincline was momentarily insulted that she would imply that he would ever strike her in anger but then he recalled his own parents and how his mother had truly died. His father did not hesitate to beat those around him, abuse was a daily anger management practice for him, not even his own son was immune. The old man had even gone so far as to kill the mother of his heir for her disobedience. Sincline himself had a habit of killing those around him when his temper flared. Could he really promise Fala that he would never hit her in anger?

"I would never hurt you!" He snarled with more passion than he meant to let slip through his voice. It made him wonder if he weren't trying to convince himself more than Fala.

"You already did." She shot back. "By threatening my home, my country, my people, and my friends you hurt me."

He let out a snort of derision.

"You may not count emotional hurt as actual hurt, fine." The princess lifted her wrist to his eyes showing the dark bruise that was already forming there as the result of his angry grip. "You've still already hurt me. Why should I not fight back? Isn't that one of the things this barbaric society of yours values so very much? Strength?"

Sincline growled low in his throat and realized that he had no retort for her. It was true that within Galran society strength was valued over all else and strength she had. It was one of the things that attracted him to her so much. Her strength of will and inner fire... he wanted to possess it, bend it to his will, make it his own. He wanted her to submit to him and turn that passion and fire she had towards him, preferably towards him in an amiable way. The young Emperor had come to indulge in an interlude of hot and sweaty love-making but now he found that he was no longer in the mood.

Without answering her question he released Fala from his vice-like embrace and exited her chambers as suddenly as he had entered them without so much as a word. And a very confused Altean princess was left standing speechless in the middle of her siting room.

...