Status Quo
Chapter Eleven: Begin!!
by Kyence
Disclaimer: All Voltron characters are property of World Events Productions.
‘’ denote character thoughts.
In the vacuum of space, the Denubian Galaxy swirled about an invisible axis. For eons, its regions were unknown; the galaxy was a twinkle in the distant skies of Earth, Apodia, and Drule. The worlds that spun within its celestial helix displayed each other to their own children via the night sky, spawning the fantasy of touching those distant realms within their minds. Long ago, this dream had been realized and had long lost its fantastic appeal. Traveling between galaxies had become a mundane task, no more than an advanced concept of the 20th century ACE highway. This highway had been used by the encroaching mass of starships for weeks, destined to reinspire awe in the Denubian denizens.
The ships sailed quietly towards the destination, sound an impossible phenomenon in the void they traversed in. While there was some variation in the ships’ designs based on their military purpose, they all bore a sleekness that contrasted with the bulky Alliance ships. Rather than being amalgamations of soldered metal stripped from the ground, they were polymers of organic concoctions created through Apodian technology and techniques. The compounds were discovered on the homeworld and developed to withstand its immense gravity. Implementation in interstellar vehicles yielded a versatile transport that lacked the inherent weakness of its hapless adversaries.
Lotor stood beside his father in the command ship. The vessel had no glass windows to compromise its integrity. A plasma screen incorporated into the ship’s structure provided his eyes with a view of the exterior cosmos. A fleeting moment of nostalgia permeated his chest. He had been eagerly anticipating this day, to fight again. He was going to make history, and bring the Alliance to its knees.
‘Ah, I see you have your father’s bloodlust…’ Shai’s voice echoed in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced.
Zarkon, who looked down at her with an arching eyebrow, perceived Shai’s slight grin. She detected his curiosity and looked up at him in return, cocking her head a trifle to the right, her eyes glancing in that direction for added effect. Zarkon’s resulting frown underscored the anger he was feeling.
‘Shai, I know you are probably pointing your psychic tuning fork at my brain waves, so hear this: no flirting with Lotor.’
It was Shai’s turn to display a furrowed brow. She flashed a smile that shined with playful sensuality. ‘I do not covet caviar when I have already caught a shark.’ Zarkon cleared his throat, prompting Jepaya at Shai’s left to sport a smirk of her own. Her comrade, Ecchai, witnessed the display, but under the rules of military etiquette did not call attention to it.
A three-dimensional holographic image sprang out from the plasma screen of the Chief Navigator. Her opal scaled looked flat and matte in the graphical representation. “Great Meteriarch, we are being hailed by the savages,” she announced. The term ‘savages’ was used in military terminology to address the enemy. This subtle suggestion that their opponents were inferior to them provided a means of initiative. There was no excuse for defeat if one’s foes were hopelessly primal. Shai nodded at the hologram, which dissipated into horizontal green rays before fading away. “Enhance view,” she commanded. The plasma screen’s imagery zoomed in on the ships that were the source of the call.
“Rather blocky, aren’t they?” Jepaya remarked aloud. She leaned over slightly and glared at Zarkon. “You called Shai to handle this?!” Without turning, she gestured to the screen’s contents. “Are these tin cans too troublesome for the mighty Zarkon?” she sneered.
Shai rolled her eyes as Zarkon retorted, “Well, if I ever need a pilot against clunky, old Voltron, I know who to turn to. I do hope you wrote out your will before you left Apodia.”
Lotor covered his mouth to hide his smile. He had never seen anyone with the courage to deride his father as Jepaya did. Though he could not understand their insults, the visible agitation was universal. Though their public bickering was rare, he had been privy to enough private arguments that he could use as ammunition against his father for a lifetime if he was ever desperate enough to need it. ‘Even old folks can fight like little kids. Dare I think it, it’s almost cute, ‘ Lotor mused as the two orators were now silent as they held a staring match.
Shai held her hand up. “Enough of this!” Her eyes blazed a blue hue. Jepaya and Zarkon turned their backs to each other, a chorded “Hmmph” shared between them. Zarkon crossed his arms as he cast a sideways glance towards his son. Lotor had regained his composure by this time. He shrugged at his father, his muscular shoulders pushing against the fabric. The gesture was accompanied with an emotionless visage. Lotor was not sure why his father allowed Jepaya impunity, but he knew there was none left to spare for him. Zarkon sniffed, and with a curt nod, concluded his survey of Lotor.
‘I’m sure he found that quite amusing, but at least he’s bright enough to feign respect,’ Zarkon surmised. He pursed his lips as he studied the plasma screen, his mind dizzy with brooding. ‘No, Shai’s spell is effective. He is loyal now.’ His eyelids narrowed as he observed the language scrawled on the Denubian ships. ‘They are Alliance ships,’ he discerned. “They are a patrolling unit, Shai,” Zarkon announced. “The trajectory we are using to get to Dhm places us solely in the Crimson Quadrant. The next ships we encounter will be around my world.” ‘What if he’s acting? What if he’s biding his time, waiting for me to lower my guard?’ his wary mind still prodded.
“If we answer their hail, they may relay communications to a main force. No sense in making this more cumbersome, is there?” Shai suggested. She closed her eyes as her body stretched and hardened into a Sapientydan shape. Her levitating cape and beads still remained about her altered frame, denoting her exquisite control; the organic cloth she had been wearing was now part of her. Lotor fell back, startled by the unexpected metamorphosis. He instinctively placed a leg back to keep from falling down, though it was enough of a response to garner a frown from his father.
‘Dammit! He’s making me look like a complete fool! Not now, Lotor, please, not now. At least wait until it’s just us again before you start these bad habits of yours anew,’ Zarkon indirectly prayed to a deity he knew did not exist.
“What shall we do?” Shai opened her eyes and met Zarkon’s. The pair was now the same height. A glimmer shared between them hinted at an exchange. Zarkon’s lips curled into a fiendish smile. Shai thrust her index finger at the plasma screen. “Attack!” she ordered.
Less than a second passed before the two battle cruisers flanking the command ship each launched a wide gravity beam at the line of Alliance ships. The beams dragged the ships to them, twisting and squeezing the metallic hulls into worthless debris. Instead of huge explosions that signify an attack, the Alliance ships imploded into small metal orbs that released electromagnetic waves in all directions. Ships in front of the battle cruisers had special apparati that attracted the waves to them and stored them in special energy banks.
Lotor assumed a thoughtful stance as he pressed a finger to his lip. “That was strangely unsatisfying,” he muttered.
“Sometimes it is better to forsake the flashy moves for a lethal stealth attack,” Shai advised.
‘Thank you, I’ve been trying to tell him that for years now,’ Zarkon cheered silently. His external demeanor was stoic as he stated, “The Alliance has noted a lack of activity as of late. If my sources are correct, an entire patrolling unit off the radar and not reporting at the end of their shift may elicit some minor response, since no one knows we’re here yet…well, alive and knowing, anyway. Nothing to worry about. We’ll be out of this area by then.”
“Heh, they may even whine for Voltron to dust off his shoes and comb the area,” Lotor added, his mouth churning a cruel smile. “Too bad no one can contact him.”
“Yes, it is quite a shame,” Zarkon agreed. “By the the time Voltron figures out what is happening, the battle will be won, and the Denubian will be in a state of panic. But do not worry, Lotor,” Zarkon assured his child, “you’ll have plenty of blood left to bathe your blade.”
“And Allura?” Lotor pursued.
Zarkon smiled gently, deliberately testing his son. “If you are patient, you’ll have her soon enough.”
* * *
“Ah, what a perfect afternoon for some tea.” Coran held the teacup to his lips, sampling the delicious flavor with a distinguished elegance that hinted at his privileged upbringing. He sipped without making a sound, and settled the cup onto its saucer. A gentle breeze swished the hairs of his moustache. It tickled him, and he wrinkled his nose in response. The view of the countryside afforded by the balcony he leisured on was idyllic. He could hear the songs of birds in nearby trees. He had found himself repeating this tranquil ritual more often since Allura had left. Perhaps it was his attempt to try to calm his restless soul. He had come to regard her as a surrogate daughter more than a ward, and he worried about her in the same way a father would. To say such a thing aloud would not be meet, but it did not dismiss his paternal affections. Each day, a part of him eagerly waited for a call from the Voltron Force, from Allura, while he sipped his tea and listened to the avian melodies. Those calls had become less frequent in the past couple of weeks. ‘Do I matter that little?’ he thought to himself. ‘You must accept the fact that she is becoming an adult and does not need your constant supervision. If she needs help, you’ll be there to aid her, but you have to understand that she does not want you peering over her shoulder every minute of every day.’ He scratched his chin as he struggled with the notion.
A plate of danishes was placed before him. He looked up and smiled at the sweet girl who had brought them. She was the newest of Nanny’s hires, and the most lighthearted with the hearty woman’s loud demands. She reminded him of Allura, and since she had set off to retrieve the missing CFO of Seer, this maid often brightened his lonely days with a simple innocent grin. “Mmm, thanks, Ana,” he replied as he inhaled the sweet smell emanating from the dish.
She held a hand to her mouth as she giggled. Her eyes closed while she chuckled, her brown hair bouncing lightly in its bun. “Nanny doesn’t know I took them yet.” She gave Coran a wink as she pointed to the sky. She placed her other hand on her hip as she leaned on the table. “But, I’ll just say the mice took them. I don’t think she’ll want them after that.”
Coran shook his head, though he found the mischievous act done for him charming. “You could get in trouble.”
“If I get caught, I’ll just get double duty,” Ana replied with an unaffected shrug. She gestured to the empty chair across from him. “May I? I’m on my break.”
“Of course,” Coran nodded. Ana sat down, dragging the chair closer to the table. Her posture was straight, her hands neatly folded in front of her. “Thank you, sir,” she obliged politely. She regarded him idly for a couple of moments as he helped himself to one of the treats she had brought. She licked her lips innately as she stared at the remaining pieces.
It was impossible to ignore her look. “Please help yourself to one. I doubt I can eat these all myself anyway,” he offered. She nodded, and gingerly lifted the smallest one. She slowly brought it to her lips, hesitating for a moment. Coran chewed his piece slowly, inexplicably transfixed on her slow attempt. She looked at him, and her own eyes widened, as if from fear. Without further delay, she tossed a piece of her danish in her mouth and chewed it twice before audibly gulping it down. She smiled at him uneasily. “Delicious,” she determined with a weak crease of her lips.
Coran frowned. “Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked honestly. “Please do not misunderstand my manners…”
Ana’s face paled for a moment. “I know…I know it’s nothing like that!” she stammered, her fingers writhing uneasily in her palms. She looked down at her mass of digits as she bit her lip. “I never tasted one of those before. I was afraid if I admitted it out loud…you would think I was weird.” Her cheeks began to flush a bright sanguine.
“After the many terrors your generation has had to live through on this world, you are not weird for not having had one before. I assure you, most Arusian girls your age have yet to try one,” Coran reasoned in a calm yet preaching tone. Ana lifted her gaze and bobbed her head in accord with his explanation. She grinned broadly. She pushed the chair back and stood up. She walked over to the balcony, resting her elbows on the railing. Leaning forward, she asked, “When is Her Highness returning?”
Coran was not expecting the question at all. “Her Highness?” he repeated, flustered.
The young maiden twirled around. She placed her full weight on the railing. “It has been awhile. Nanny talks all the time about how we haven’t gotten much word from them. She jumps to all these conclusions. Some of them are just plain silly.” Gripping the railing with her arms twisted, she leaned forward. Her triceps flexed noticeably at the position. “Like the one about Keith and Her Highness eloping…”
Coran was now the one to leave his seat. He bolted up from it as though he had been stung on his buttocks by a bee, a look of fear deepening the wrinkles on his face.
“But I argued with her,” Ana continued, undaunted by his actions. “Seriously, I said, ‘Now Nanny, Princess Allura is a mature, responsible young woman and Keith is a loyal commander. Nothing illicit like that could ever happen. You worry too much.’ Then she gave me dish duty for a week,” she ended with a sigh. She looked at Coran. “So, HAVE you gotten word from Voltron?”
His face suggested he did not hear her inquiry. ‘I have seen the way those two look at each other. I have tried to turn the other cheek, but if even Nanny sees it, this situation can be potentially difficult if not handled soon.’
Ana walked up to Coran and waved her hand in front of his eyes. “Are you okay? Was it something I said?”
As she tried to figure out exactly how to rouse Coran from his shock-induced daydream, a Castle guard sporting green stripes ran up to them. He stood straight and quickly saluted. “Coran, sir, Prince Bandor of Pollux is contacting us. He has an urgent message from Galaxy Garrison. Your presence is needed in the Control Room.” The harbinger was the antidote needed for Coran’s paralysis. He nodded to the guard. As he went with the guard, Coran said to Ana, “You can finish them.”
Ana watched the Royal Advisor walk away. She bit her lower lip as she studied the dessert subtly tempting her. It only took her a moment to decide what she should do: she grabbed two. Clenching one in her jaws, she stuffed the other in her apron pocket as she followed the two men.
She thought she had not been that far behind them, yet she found by the time she caught up that Coran had already been talking with Prince Bandor, whose young face filled the gigantic screen. She remained in the corridor rather than go in. If Nanny caught her snooping like this, a double shift would be the least of her problems.
“A patrolling force simply disappeared at the boundary of the Crimson Quadrant?” Coran summarized.
“Yup,” Bandor’s squeaky voice confirmed. It hinted that the onset of puberty was close. “I just received the word myself. There were no explosions detected or anything like that. None of the ships stationed at the Galaxy border returned after their shift was complete. You haven’t gotten any distress signals, have you?”
Coran shook his head. “Not a thing. Are they on the radar?”
“According to the Quadrant’s envoy, there’s nothing at all.” Bandor’s informal use of words heightened the oddity of the circumstances. “If it was a magnetic cloud blocking their signals or something, our satellites would detect it. But there’s nothing!”
“It is something worth investigating,” Coran concurred. His instinct, conditioned after years of imminent danger surrounding him, came alive. His inborn intuition could not be swayed; he knew something was happening. Something bad, something the Voltron Force should at least know about, though they were too far to do anything immediate.
“Okay, Coran. “Signing off,” Bandor complied. He may be an adolescent, but the authority of a monarch could be seen in his demeanor and his eyes. Rather than shirk the weight off his shoulders like a burden, he used his royal birthright to protect his people from any harm. The screen went dark as the connection was terminated. Coran immediately started pressing the buttons on the control panel with a dexterous rhythm. The buttons glowed pink and yellow as he pressed down on them, the lights casting shades on his face. The result of his input was a series of commands lighting up the Control Room’s screen. It ended with a connection time out.
“What? What is this?” Coran blurted out. He tried reentering everything. It all yielded the same failure to connect with the Voltron Force. Coran punched the console with his fist, his whole body shaking. Ana emerged from her hiding place. She entered the Control Room, intrigued by the screen’s futile command lines.
Coran was breathing heavily. He was not sure when Ana had first stood beside him. He only noticed her after he absently glanced down and saw her feet. She looked at him, a worried look on her face as well. “What’s wrong?”
He pulled his eyes away. “I can’t contact Voltron.” He gazed upward at the screen’s apex. His vision began to blur from the stress of the situation. The skin of his face pulled his mouth down in a tortured frown.
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