Welcome back, everyone. First a quick shout out to those dear-hearts who keep sending me your love through reviews. Always appreciated, and an excellent way to keep me at the keyboard.

Not much in the way of comments this go round, so...Enjoy! And please review (I have no shame, and I will beg for them) :)

Cheers.

The sun had nearly set when Hunk and Pidge parked the bikes on the street in front of the small tavern just off of the main thoroughfair in Freetown. Even being off the main strip, the sidewalk was bustling with activity. Because Galaxy Garrison headquarters and the Academy were the epicenter of the city, most of the traffic on the weekends consisted of mostly military personnel.

Pidge released the kickstand on his bike and propped his helmet on the back. He gazed up at the bright neons that adorned the window of the small bar. "Are you sure that they'll be here?"

"It's Friday night." Hunk chuckled. "They've been coming here since our days at the Academy. They'll be here."

Since Pidge had been a child prodigy and three years behind his teammates at the Academy, he had never been able to take part in the after hour activities of the cadets. Especially blowing off steam at the local bars. It suddenly struck him that while he was a genius in just about everyway, he was severly lacking in the realm of bar etiquette. Oh well, he could improvise.

It was nothing like Pidge had imagined. He had envisioned loud music and drunken chatter filtering through a smokey haze. Maybe a fight or two. Instead, the small room was only half full with most of the patrons camping at the long bar that ran the length of the side wall. Toward the back were a number of booth tables and another door leading to room that housed three pool tables. He stood close to the front door, unsure what to do next.

Hunk scanned the darkened room, quickly finding what he was looking for. Several members of the Vehicle Voltron Force were having a round at one of the back corner booths. Cliff, Lisa. Rocky, and Ginger relaxed in the round bench seat behind the table. Jeff had pulled a chair up to the table to sit across from them.

"Stay here, Pidge."

"Yeah, no problem."

Hunk moved purposefully to the back of the room. Without being asked, he grabbed an unused chair at an empty table and planted it backwards next to Jeff. He straddled the chair, resting his elbows on the back. The table fell silent, watching him curiously.

Jeff was the only one who didn't seem to be bothered by his sudden presence. He sipped his beer. "Good to see you, Hunk."

"Likewise."

"Hey big guy," Cliff gave him a nervous smile. "Wanna beer?" He scooted the half full pitcher toward the bigger man.

"No thanks," Hunk replied. "Just had a couple of questions."

Ginger cleared her throat. "Yeah, we heard about Keith, Lance, and Sven. Sorry about that."

Hunk nodded. "Yeah about that. You know they're innocent, right?" He narrowed his eyes at them. They had known each other since the Academy. They had to know that the others were innocent.

"Of course!" Lisa squealed. "There's no way they would ever do that."

"Right." Hunk said, feeling a little more at ease. At least they were on the same side. "The question is, who would want to frame Keith, Lance, and Sven for murder?"

Jeff, who had been thoughtfully quiet, took another sip before setting his glass in front of him. "What makes you think we would know?"

Hunk watched Jeff closely. The Air Team commander was being evasive, that much was clear. "Well, as the pilots of Vehicle Voltron, you are pretty high up on the information food chain. I figured you might have heard something."

Jeff gave him a wan smile. "You give us too much credit. Unlike your team, who has the benefit of having the ear of the ruler of Arus, we are still soldiers in Garrison. We follow orders and don't ask questions." He paused before continuing. "Even if we did know something, you know that we wouldn't be authorized to discuss it with you, Hunk." Jeff said.

"Come on, Jeff," Hunk leaned forward so that he could lower his voice, but still get his point across, "these are your friends we're talking about. You're going to tell me that you won't let me help them because of some bureaucratic bullshit!"

Jeff fell silent again, contemplating how much he could actually tell his comrade. Glancing at his team, he knew that he owed it Keith, Lance, and Sven to help in anyway he could. But his first priority was protecing his team. "Alright, I'll tell you what I can." He looked around quickly to make sure their conversation was limited to the ears of the company at the table. "All I know is that since you took Lotor into custody, things have been crazy around here. General Graham was planning a big move against the Drules while they were still reeling from the loss of Doom and it's control."

"What kind of move?"

The commander shook his head. "It was kept pretty hush hush. But we had been on-call since we got word that Zarkon is dead and you had Lotor. Then," He paused, furrowing his brows in thought. "after Graham's murder, as of last night, Wade put us on leave."

"Leave?"

Cliff snorted. "Gounded. Until further notice."

Jeff leaned closer to Hunk and lowered his voice even more. "Listen, Hunk, the guys are in a lot of trouble. I don't trust Wade, and I wouldn't put it passed him to be involved in Graham's death."

"Eh hem..." They both glanced at Ginger who gave Jeff a look he knew only too well.

"Even talking about this could land me in the brig." Jeff continued. "You need to get Keith, Lance, and Sven off planet immediately."

Hunk shook his head. "They're not going to run from this, and neither will the rest of the team. We're not going anywhere until we find out what's going on."

Jeff nodded. "I get it, Hunk. You're protecting your team. Well, so am I. I don't want anyone from Vehicle Voltron involved in this. Do you understand?"

Pidge stood quietly by the door, hands folded in front of him. He certainly felt out of place, so he focused his attention on the muted television mounted behind the bar. The sports segment of the evening news was showcasing the hightlights of a recent soccer tournament. While being very athletic himself, Pidge was never interested in organized sports. He found himself yawning and his attenting waning. A breaking news story suddenly broke in, recapturing his attention. He moved to the bar and asked the bartender to turn up the volume.

A lovely brunette was speaking to the camera. "Authorities have released information that three men, all suspects in the murder of General Graham, have been taken from custody by force." Commander Keith Kogan and Lt. Lance McClain, both Galaxy Garrison personelle and members of the elite Lion Voltron team were detained earlier today in connection with General Graham's death. Sven Holgersson, a former Garrison fighter pilot and Voltron member, was also taken in for questioning." Pictures of all three men appeared on the screen. "Just moments ago, our station recieved this footage captured by a securty camera mounted in the back of the transport vehicle."

Pidge stared in horror as a video appeared on the screen. It showed the back of the van being blown off from the inside, and Keith, Lance, and Sven jumping to safety. From the angle, the camera had a perfect view of Deirdre's black charger flanked by two motorcycles.

"Um, Hunk," he called. "I think you better take a look at this."

The newcaster returned to the screen. "The accomplices to the escape have been identified as..." Allura, Romelle, and Deirdre's faces appeared. "...Princess Allura of Arus, Princess Romelle of Pollux, and Deirdre McMannus, a former Garrison fighter pilot. The two men on the motorcycles are speculated to be Darryl 'Pidge' Stoker and Tsyoshi 'Hunk' Garret." Pidge's jaw dropped as the picture changed again, and he found himself staring at himself next to Hunk's face.

"All those involved in the incident are now wanted by the authorities. They are all highly trained soldiers and should not be engaged in any way. If you have any information on the whereabouts of these fugitives, call the police immediately."

Fugitives? Pidge shook his head. He couldn't believe this was happening.

Hunk was on his feet staring wide-eyed at the tv. He glanced at Jeff who was now standing beside him. He knew what was coming next.

"I have to do this, Hunk." He grabbed Hunk by the shoulder and spun him around. "Tsyoshi Garret, you are under arrest..."

Jeff held Hunk's wrists loosely behind his back, giving Hunk the opportunity to wrench himself free. "I don't think so, flyboy." He said loudly as he spun on Jeff and hesitated ever so slightly before slamming his fist into the commander's jaw sending him flying across the table into the laps of his teammates.

"Pidge! Behind you!"

Pidge turned to find two large men standing between him and the door, their only escape. There were times when Pidge found his small stature to be a hinderance. This was not one of those times. The man on his left stepped forward swinging a large fist in a wide arc. Pidge ducked jabbing the man hard in the groin. As he doubled over, Pidge straightened quickly and through his foot out in a perfectly executed roundhouse kick to the other man's gut. As he fell, Pidge leaped into the air, easily hurdling them both. Then he was out the door with Hunk on his heels.

"What now?" Pidge asked as he pulled on his helmet and started his bike's engine.

"Back to the cabin." Hunk said decisively. "And get Keith on your communicator."

Keith and Lance followed the older man who had introduced himself as Pryce, General Hawkins' nephew through the large foyer of General Hawkins house. He was only a few years older than the Voltron pilots, but was tall and gangly and looked as if he had spent most of his career behind a desk. He did not seem to happy to learn that two men from Galaxy Garrison had come to call on his uncle. Lance watched the back of the man's head with contempt. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was the elite looking down on them because they were only pilots.

He led them down a long, dimly lit hallway lined with very expensive looking paintings. Keith examined each piece as they passed and contemplated how well Hawkins had done for himself since leaving Garrison. Certainly he could not afford the estate and antiquities that adorned it on an officer's retirment package.

At the end of the hall, they came to a set of double doors. Pryce stopped and knocked, all the while watching the pair with scrutiny.

"Come in."

Pryce opened the door and ushered them inside. The office was no different from the rest of the house. It was lined with an uncountable number of books and was decorated with statues and paintings that Keith guessed had cost a pretty penny. They stood before Hawkins where he sat at his large oak desk. Pryce stood by the door, looking decidedly disgusted.

"That will be all, Pryce." The General spoke with authority.

"Are you sure, Uncle?"

Hawkins nodded. Pryce clicked his tongue before making his exit, closing the doors behind him.

"Swell guy." Lance commented.

"Pryce means well. Since my wife passed away, he has taken it upon himself to be my handler." He scrutinized the two men for a moment. "I could be arrested just for talking to the pair of you. I heard that they are looking at the two of you for Graham's murder."

"Yeah, we got that part." Lance stood next to Keith his arms crossed. He was already irritated by Hawkins' demeaning tone. Like he believed they could possibly have murdered their superior officer.

Keith stood at attention more out of habit than anything. He had always admired Hawkins and believed that Hawkins shared the same respect. "We were never here." He said quietly.

"Damn right you were never here. Now what exactly is it that you want?"

"Information." Keith admitted. "We didn't kill Graham. We want to know who's setting us up."

Hawkins stood and walked to a small bar next to a large bookcase that matched the desk. He grabbed a bottle of scotch and poured some into a rocks glass. "I've been out of Garrison for three years. What makes you think that I know anything?" He snatched up his glass and returned to his desk, though he remained standing.

"Regardless of your retired status, I assume that you're still in touch with the higher ups in Garrison." Keith said matter of factly.

The former general took a long swig of scotch and laughed loudly. "Retired. That's a gentle euphemism."

Lance snorted. "Euphemism for what?"

Hawkins finally sank back into his chair. He swirled the liquid around in the glass and stared into it as if it would give him some glimmer of future events. Finishing the drink in one swig, he breathed deeply and composed himself, but when he spoke the edge of his previous tone was gone. "Three years ago, as you know, we finally had the Drules in the Rhee Galaxy on the run. We were getting ready to wipe them and their tyranny out for good." He fell into thoughtful silence.

"What happened?" Keith prompted him.

Hawkins shrugged. "I don't know. Out of the blue, Graham pulled us out of the quadrant. When I questioned his decision, suddenly I was past my prime and I was gently ushered out the door. That was about the time Wade was promoted."

Keith rubbed his chin. "You think Wade had something to do with it?"

The older man shrugged. "My guess is he had something on Graham."

"I knew that man was dirty!" Lance ground through his teeth, pounding his fist on the desk. "You think he's in on the frame job?"

Silence was their only affirmative.

Keith's stomach turned sour. "Why take us out now after all this time?"

Hawkins breathed heavily. "You were right when you said I still have contacts in Garrison. From what I've heard, the arrest of Lotor has sent the Drules into a tailspin. With the loss of power in that galaxy, there are some people at Garrison who think that the Drule Empire may crumble." He stood and went back to the bar to pour another drink. "Rumor has it that the bureaucrats are looking to cut Garrison's budget to pay for this war with the Drules now that it's coming to its conclusion."

"What does that have to do with us?" Lance asked.

"Look, Wade is a very ambitious man. As long as he's fighting the Drules, he's a superstar. If this war ends, Wade falls into the background. And his bid for power goes with it."

"But why now?" Keith wondered again. "We've got Lotor and killed Zarkon. How's he going to stop the defeat of the Drules now? What's his endgame?"

"That I do not know." Hawkins admitted.

At that moment, the office door opened and Pryce hurried inside. "I'm sorry for the interruption, Uncle, but this is very important."

Keith narrowed his eyes as the young man walked to where his uncle sat, leaning over to whisper something in his ear. Whatever the news was, it certainly had Pryce in a tizzy. When he finally stood up straight again, Hawkins folded his hands in front of him. "It appears that not only are you now wanted for the murder of Graham, but your friends have turned fugitive as well."

Keith and Lance looked at each other. "What?"

"It's all over the news." Pryce jumped in almost as if he couldn't wait to share the information himself. Lance wanted to punch him in the face. "Video of your friends breaking you out of custody. There's a manhunt going on as we speak. The two princesses and the rest of the Voltron Force."

"Shit." Lance breathed.

Keith felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. He should have seen this coming. Now way Wade was going to let them get away so easily. He had sent Hunk, Pidge, Allura, and Deirdre into the lion's den in Freetown. Now they were all in danger. And there hadn't been time to come up with a contingency plan. He turned to Hawkins to see what his intentions were. Would he turn them in to the authorities?

Hawkins finshed his second drink and handed it to Pryce for a refill. "I suggest that the two of you find your friends and figure out a way to get off the planet."

"Uncle," Pryce screeched. "shouldn't we..."

"They were never here, Pryce. Do you understand?"

Pryce lowered his head. "Yes, Sir."

Keith gave the older man a small smile. "Thank you, Sir."

Without having to be told again, Keith and Lance hustled out the door and into the estate courtyard.

"What now, Chief?" Lance asked as he fell into the passenger seat of the charger.

Keith threw the car into gear and peeled out of the gates, kicking up debris behind them. "Get Hunk and Allura on the comm. Tell them to get their asses out of Freetown, now!"

There were very few times in her life when Allura had felt her world spinning totally out of her control, but as she stood in the middle of the hotel room watching the newscast, she was freefalling without a rope to cling to. She and her cousin, along with the rest of the Voltron Force, were now fugitives on the run from Galaxy Garrison. How in the hell could she have let this happen?

"Allura,"

The Princess turned as she felt Deirdre's hand on her arm.

"I think we need to get out of here, now."

She shook her head to ward off the numbing feeling that threatened to engulf her. Now is not the time to shut down, Allura. You have to get back to your team. "What about our stuff?"

"Grab whatever weapons you can, leave the rest." said Deirdre. "And make sure you turn off you Comm. I'm sure the others are aware of what's going on by now, and they'll try to get in touch with us. If we're going to sneak out of here without being noticed, we don't need it going off at an inopportune time."

Allura nodded and switched her Comm to silent mode.

Both women stooped to rifle through the bags quickly, each pulling out two blasters. While she had never found the need to carry a gun on her person, Allura gladly strapped Lance's holster around her waist, jamming her blaster securely to her hip. She also donned Keith's ankle holster along with his smaller Featherweight pistol. She gathered several magazines and stuffed them into her other boot. Deirdre donned her own double draw shoulder holster, complete with two blasters and a magazine holster clipped to her belt. She also sported tactical knives attatched to each of her boots.

As ready as they would be, Deirdre stuck her head out the door. The corridor was empty. "Come on," she whispered, "we'll take the stairs." Allura nodded and followed her into the hallway. They moved quickly to the end of the corridor and after a quick glance in the stairwell, they started down the stairs.

Allura felt her heart beating in time with the sound of her boots pounding the concrete steps. The gun attached to her hip seemed alot heavier than it should, and she wondered what good being armed would do them. It's not like we could take on a brigade of Garrison soldiers on our own, anyway.

The race down the stairs ground to a halt when Deirdre stopped suddenly on the tenth floor landing. She motioned to Allura to be quiet. The princess strained to listen. She could hear light footsteps below them echoing through the stairwell.

Deirdre pulled the door leading to the tenth floor and ushered Allura through. Allura held her breath as they listened to the footsteps growing closer in the stairwell. Her heart hammered in her chest as they made their way to the tenth floor landing. She swallowed hard, waiting for the inevitable. It never came. The footsteps passed by moving up the stairs toward the fifteenth floor. She prepared to go back into the stairwell but was stopped by Deirdre.

"They have the whole building surrounded by now. Now way we're going to make it out of here."

"So, what now? We're stuck here?"

Deirdre turned and walked down the corridor away from stairwell. She stopped at random door, put her ear to the door and listened. "This one."

"How do we get in? We need an electronic key."

The red head reached down and extracted a tactical knife. She made quick work of the screws that held the face plate of the electronic lock in place. A few twists of the wires, and Allura heard the lock click.

"Where did you learn that?"

Deirdre smiled as she held the door open. "Hunk taught me when we were in the Academy. You don't want to know why."

Allura couldn't help but smile as she walked into the room. "You're probably right."

Thankfully, the room was empty. It was spotlessly clean, so housekeeping had already been there. Allura sat heavily on the bed. "We should get in touch with Keith. They need to know what's happening."

"I guarantee you that they are monitering all the communications leaving this building." Deirdre picked up the room phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Something that I hate doing more than anything. I have an ace up my sleeve, and I think that it's time to use it."

Deirdre was silent for a moment while the phone rang, then she became very animated. "Hiya, is this the front desk?" Allura raised an eyebrow in response as the other woman's voice raised in pitch as she spoke in an unfamiliar accent. "Well, this is Dee Dee McGuire in the penthouse, and I have to say that I am very upset right now. I want to speak with Marguis Rankin, right away." There was a pause. "Well, I don't care if he's in the toilet taking a shit, I want to talk to him. NOW!"

Marquis Rankin growled as another knock at his office door interupted his work. Noone seemed to understand how difficult it was to run a hotel. He had inherited the delapitated piece of crap from his late uncle and had turned it into a mecca for the high class of Freetown. Admittingly, some of them did not have the most sparkling reputations. But the money and perks were good. Now it was overrun by military personelle. They were everywhere. In the lobby. At every entrance of the hotel. It was maddening. Certain clientele would not be pleased to know that Galaxy Garrison was crawling all over the place. It was bad for business. And all because he did a favor. "What?" he ground through his teeth.

The door opened and tall lanky man stuck his head in, clearly scared to death that he had interupted his boss. "Mr. Rankin. I'm sorry, sir, but Ms. McGuire is on the phone. She's pretty upset."

"Who?"

"Dee Dee McGuire. In the penthouse."

Of course. It would be her. Shit. Not now. "Put her through to my private line." He watched the phone on his desk until it beeped. He lifted it off the cradle. "Do you know the shitstorm you and your friends have started around here? There are cops everywhere."

Deirdre frowned into the phone. "Yeah, I know. Probably ransacking our rooms as we speak."

"Where are you?"

"Are you alone? Is this a secure line?"

"What do you think, Dee? You think I want anyone to know that I'm consorting with fugitives?"

She smiled. "That's what I like to hear. I'm holed up in a room on the tenth floor."

"There's no way your getting out of here."

"I can with your help."

"I think I've done enough for you, Dee. And this place has been turned upside down for my trouble."

Deirdre laughed. "Your troubles have only begun if you don't find a way to get me out of here."

"You're a crazy bitch. You know that? I don't owe you shit."

"Fine, Marquis, have it your way. But if I get taken in by the cops, I'm going to give them every file that I have on you and the back room racket you've got going on here. Then I'm going to send every hooker I know to your house so they can give your wife intimate details about how you've been screwing around on her for years."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Who do you think you're talking to? I'm wanted in connection with the assassination of a highly decorated Garrison general. I don't have much to lose. So why would I bullshit you? You get us out of here, I'll forget about every favor I ever did you. You will never see or here from me again. If I go down, you lose everything. We clear?"

Silence. "Yeah, I got it. Gimme 20 minutes."

"You got 10." Deirdre slammed the phone down and let out a long slow breath. She rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling very tired. She noticed Allura watching her, wide eyed, from where she sat on the bed. Obviously, the princess was not used to being privy to the dark, underbelly of politics. Deirdre shrugged and smiled. "Hanging around with the scum of society sometimes has it's perks."

To her surprise, Allura smiled knowingly at her. "Obviously. So what do we do now?"

"Something else that I hate to do." Deirdre yanked open the mini-bar under the television and pulled out a small bottle of liquor. "We wait."

So, if things were hot for our heroes before, they are smoking now.

Chapter 10: With the team scattered, extreme measures must be taken to get off of the planet before they are caught. But they will get help from a surprising source. Also, Wade puts his plans for Lotor into action. DUM, DUM, DUM :)