Thick as Space, Cold as Blood
* PROLOGUE *
Planet Arus
FROM “THE Arusian Chronicles” by the Royal Scribe Emauline, in the year 511: And is the dark storms truly passed and are we truly safe to venture out into the sun, without fear? Such are the questions that beset the good people of Arus, who have lived in hiding these past years since our Good King Alfor’s death, for fear of the ever-present threat of slave ships from the Planet Doom.
Yes. After journeying to the very heart of that web of evil, to Planet Doom itself, and returning victoriously, our saviors, the Voltron Force, have declared the threat over. King Zarkon and his son Prince Lotor and their robot minions have been vanquished, and we can at last breath easily. Already the Force, lead by the Princess Allura, Commander Keith Hawkins, and the Lord Counselor Corran have begun to restore hope to the people of Arus by encouraging them to return to their old way of life, to set aside the dark past forever…
“Well, no one ever said the Royal Scribe Emauline was a good writer,” Corran thought aloud as he stood by the open window in the Great Hall, watching the sun go down on Arus. The Voltron Force had not yet returned from wherever they had disappeared to in order to avoid the lavish celebration the Arusians had planned in their honor. Who’s idea had that escape been? Probably Lance’s, he mused, shaking his head in weary consternation. Well…let it rest. There would be other times to celebrate in the days of peace that lay ahead. Still… Corran glanced down at Emauline’s manuscript, frowned at the flowery handwriting, and tried to sort his thoughts.
How much had happened in the past few weeks! The restoration of his long-missing son Garrett, the shock of learning the young man he took to be his son was no more than an evil clone sent by the witch Haggar as a spy, the Great Council of Denubian rulers, the apparent assassination of the Olion ambassador, the struggle for the Pulsar Cannon, a powerful and dreaded weapon... And then that final show-down, a mere twenty-six hours ago… How the Castle of Lions had been transformed into the Flying Fortress and accompanied the mighty robot Voltron to the very heart of evil, to Planet Doom itself. How Prince Lotor had with the aid of the Drulish Marshal Kezor overthrown his father King Zarkon, transforming him into a robeast that was ultimately defeated at the hands of Voltron. How Princess Romelle of Pollux and Lieutenant Sven Bjørnsen, ex-pilot of the Blue Lion and one-time slave on Planet Doom, had led a ground assault on Castle Doom, freed the slaves, and destroyed Haggar’s laboratory. How Lotor, seeing his forces had failed, had seemed to go mad, refusing to surrender and how Sven, seeking revenge for the cruelties he and Romelle had suffered at the Prince of Doom’s hands had chased his enemy through the ruins of Castle Doom, only to be taken as a hostage. The two had ascended to the highest turret of Castle Doom where Lotor offered the Voltron Force their comrade’s life…in exchange for the giant robot itself. No one had failed to see the madness in the Prince’s eyes and all of time seemed to freeze as cold as space in that crystal moment when Keith and Allura turned over Voltron to Lotor… Corran shook his head in wonder. All would have been lost but for the Space Mice in their own little ship! While Lotor gloated in his triumph they sneaked around to the tower and distracted the mad Prince, giving Sven time to save Voltron from being melted. They had all heard Lotor’s blood-curdling shriek of rage and seen him hurl himself at Sven, heard Princess Romelle’s anguished cry and watched in horror as the two plummeted from the tall tower and into the moat below. Sven, severely injured, had been retrieved by his friends and sent back to Planet Pollux with Romelle and her younger brother Prince Bandor, to be healed. Lotor…how desperately they all wanted to believe Lotor had died in that fall! Though they searched Planet Doom relentlessly they had found no trace of him, or of the witch Haggar who had vanished during the battle. Corran gave a great sigh. He didn’t want to play the pessimist, but his sleep would be less troubled once Lotor’s body was found.
Behind him a door opened and shut, and he knew, without having to look up, who had come to join him.
Nanny, the princess’s formidable old governess waddled across the Great Hall to stand beside him. He knew her furious words even before she uttered them:
“And just where have they run off to?” she demanded heatedly. “All that work! All that food-and nobody around to enjoy it! It’s those no-good Space Explorers, teaching my princess bad manners! And just what am I supposed to do with all that food which has gotten cold?” she exclaimed indignantly.
“Hunk will eat it; don’t worry,” Corran said, absently.
“Hmf!” said Nanny. “Well, fortunately, now that Doom has been destroyed they won’t be needed here. They won’t be able to corrupt my princess anymore!”
Corran shot her a bemused look. “They saved Arus, and probably all of the Denubian Galaxy,” he reminded her.
“Hmf,” Nanny maintained.
Corran turned back to the open window, the setting sun very warm against his cheek, and sighed. He was glad, so glad that the threat appeared to be over…and yet, somehow he was uneasy. Has evil truly been vanquished, then, he wondered. Are the people of Arus free at last to return to their fields and crafts, to raise their children in the sun instead of beneath the surface of the earth in the safety of caves? Has my good master King Alfor’s great plan finally been realized and can the Voltron Force rest easy now, their task complete? Thinking of Nanny, still grumbling at his side, And can the Princess Allura now stop risking her life defending her planet and rule over it in peace as the queen her father and mother and myself always dreamed she would become?
Five long shadows crossed the sun for a moment and Corran blinked, then watched as the five robot lions, glinting, spiraled slowly to the pavement before the Castle of Lions. Lieutenant Lance Turniev was the first to emerge. He stood before his Red Lion--a brilliant scarlet in the setting sun--his hands in his pockets and his head back, his customary stance. Catching sight of Corran and Nanny at the window, he flashed a cheeky smile and Nanny hissed. Corran watched as Lance glanced over his shoulder casually and waited for Henry “Hunk” Johnson and Peter “Pidge” Weintraub, pilots of the Yellow and Green lions, respectively, to catch up with him.
“We’ll just see if they get any of the food,” Nanny stormed, then glanced up abruptly as the princess’s bright laughter floated up to them and they watched, each with decidedly different takes on the scene, as Keith Hawkins, the handsome pilot of the Black Lion and Commander of the Voltron Force, caught Allura by the waist and lifted her easily from the hatch of her own Blue Lion, setting her deftly on the ground. For their sakes, Corran hoped Nanny hadn’t noticed that Keith’s hands rested on Allura’s slender waist somewhat longer than was strictly necessary.
A thought came to him suddenly, and he hurriedly schooled his sudden smile before Nanny could see it and remark about it. And can Allura now stop being a warrior and instead live the life of a normal young woman? Thinking of the way Commander Hawkins looked at her at times, seemingly unawares, with a look that had much in it of protection and admiration, but at times, it seemed there was something else there as well… No, better not to mention that thought to Nanny. I need some peace…in this time of peace.
Yes, on Arus the future looked promising, but elsewhere in the Galaxy…
Far from Arus, a prisoner awoke in darkness. An icy coldness and a pressure at his wrists and ankles told him they had him in their power once again. He tried to look about, but though he strained against his bonds with all he could muster his muscles remained lax and unresponsive. He tried to cry out, but his voice rasped shallowly in his throat, emitting only the faintest of whispers into the silence. Shadows gathered, looming over him, until they seemed to take shape, to twist and form into a creature of the impenetrable black chill itself, colder than space. Sparks sang before his eyes, churning into monstrous teeth and claws that gnashed at him… Again he cried out-a name this time, the only name that meant anything to him anymore in this world of pain and madness-and the monsters in his mind hissed back mockingly. He spun in a whirlpool of chaos that dragged him down. I am dead…truly dead this time… There was something…someone…I cannot remember… Laughter like dry twigs snapping hovered all around him and then the darkness swallowed everything.
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