To pass the time while Akira shuffled his papers, Hunk glanced around the room again. A royal council chamber, it was big and airy, its warm stone walls glowing with the soft brightness of morning where they weren't covered in rich tapestries. (Allura was very fond of vivid colors.) The seats were comfortable, being carved wood upholstered in some sort of scaly blue leather. Looked kind of like Lotor's miserable hide, if you squinted the right way, a fact that made planting his rear end on the stuff doubly satisfying.

From examining the furnishings, Hunk's glance drifted up to his teammates. Never long enough to evoke an answering glance, though. The big guy tended toward shyness with everyone but Pidge. Keith, dressed in a rumpled crimson uniform, eyes a little blood shot from working all night, hair slightly mussed, stood at the end of the table. He needed a shave, and an intravenous supply of Turkish coffee. To his immediate right sat the princess, regal and lovely as always in a jeweled gown of lavender silk. Her golden hair and creamy skin seemed to shimmer in the rising light, making her look every inch the goddess her people believed her to be. Hunk blushed, and looked away. Allura had that effect on a lot of people.

At Keith's left was Sven, tall, dark-haired and muscular, with a face that would have been extraordinarily handsome if it hadn't been so glacially calm. Once in a great while Ericksen did crack a smile, Hunk had to admit, but it was usually when he had a Galran ship in his sights and his finger on the trigger. His razor-creased uniform was black and gold.

Next to Sven, sandy-haired Lance leaned way back in his chair and propped his booted feet on the gleaming table. Lura made a face, but held her peace, not wishing to provoke another flood of rabid sarcasm. Lance could reduce her to tears with a single, very funny, very cutting remark. Short, thin and scrappy, Lance wore an ice-blue uniform.

Other side of the table now, beside the princess, Pidge hummed away to himself as he worked through a stack of differential equations. Every so often he'd pause, chew on the end of his pencil for a bit, and then slide the papers over to Sven, who'd either shrug agreement, or change a variable. The two of them were working on a time gate, without much success. Pidge lived for that kind of thing, though, and would keep at it until he had not one, but fifty potential solutions. He was a brilliant young fellow, and small for his age, but unfailingly friendly and cheerful; Hunk's best friend on the team. His emerald green uniform exactly matched the color of his lion.

Hunk wore gold, and sat just a little apart from the others, his chair turned so that he could he see everyone without having to crane his neck. Burly, and rather handsome in a rugged sort of way, he almost never spoke up at these meetings, but wasn't averse to winning the daily word pool, either.

Then Akira's voice snapped the big medic from his idle reverie. Leaning forward, Hunk plumped his elbows onto the table and rested his chin on his massive hands. The meeting had begun at last.

"Well team," the commander began with relentless good cheer. "I've been looking over the fuel and ordnance logs, and I'm pleased to report that two of us have made tremendous strides in curtailing our wastage! Always remembering that a wasted bullet is a blow for the enemy, Pidge here has cut his misfires in half, as has…. Well, I guess that would be me! The rest of us have a ways to go yet, but I feel sure that improvement is just around the corner. Therefore…"

Ah-ha! One already, just minutes into the meeting! Hunk had bet ten credits on forty-five 'therefore's. If he won, he planned to take Pidge and a bunch of the palace orphans to the candy-seller's for a treat. Things were still looking good a few hours later, when Keith hit his stride. Twenty-four points and counting. Lance and Pidge were already out, having badly under-guessed. It was down to Hunk, Sven and the princess. Sven had won the last two times, while Allura had yet to claim victory. There was no room for chivalry here, though, not with a pile of credits at stake. Twenty minutes later it was down to the wire, with the princess's guess of thirty 'therefore's already down. Hunk risked a quick sideways look at Ericksen, who smiled very faintly.

Swept away by all this attention, Keith was driven to ever more dizzying verbal feats. He even pounded his fist upon the table once or twice, emphasizing a point. And then, at the worst possible instant, just when the word score rested PRECISELY between Hunk's bet of forty-five and Sven's of fifty, a shrill, wavering siren tore the air like a robeast's talons. The palace alarm, again. Arus was under attack. Six heavy chairs scraped across the slate floor as the Voltron Force and Allura dashed for the door.

"DANG IT!" LaChance roared, surprising the hell out of everyone. "I ain't ready ta quit!"

Pausing in mid-stride, Keith placed a hand on his powerful shoulder.

"Hunk, it's wonderful to see someone that fired up about grounds-keeping," he said, positively beaming. "From now on, YOU'RE in charge of 'Lura's "Keep the Palace Beautiful" committee. Congratulations, soldier."

"Whu….? But…" Too late. An instant later the commander was gone, racing for the control center, and his waiting lion.

Great. Victory snatched from his itching hands, and now he was chief grounds-keeper, too! How, Hunk wondered, as he lumbered for the control room, could things get any worse?

Meanwhile, hovering just overhead in a cloud of buzzing fighters, Prince Lotor's sleek command ship fired a storm of missiles at the Castle of Lions. Feints, nothing more, for the palace was too heavily shielded for bombs and rockets to so much as scratch. It was a summons rather than an attack.

The prince himself was on the command deck, drumming metal-gloved fingers on the arm of his chair as he awaited the dreaded Voltron Force. Turning to face the shriveled cinder of a witch who hunched at his side, Lotor snarled,

"Your spell is ready, Haggar?"

The crone nodded once, nearly invisible beneath the swathing folds of her dark cloak.

"Yes, my prince. My mist of confusion is prepared, as is the blade beast. This time, the cursed Voltron Force will fall. I swear it."

Lotor shifted in his seat, uncomfortable and trying not to show it. The heavy parade armor and uncertainty did nothing for his temper. Nothing good, that is.

"I've heard that oath too many times before, witch! I grow weary of empty promises and hollow boasting. We succeed this time, or I find myself another enchantress!"

For just an instant, their eyes locked, twin yellow gazes reflecting infinite hate and balked fury. Then Haggar looked away. She wasn't ready to make her move against Lotor and his wretched father. Not yet, anyway.

"As you say, Sire," she hissed, bowing her warty head. "Victory will surely be ours."

Seconds later the command ship was all but blasted from the sky by a beam of concentrated electro-magnetic force. The Black Lion had arrived. Nor was it alone; Blue roared up from the other side an instant later, shooting fighters down by the score. The Red and Green Lions were quick to follow, with Gold bringing up the rear.

"Ah!" Lotor exulted, as the deck shuddered and bucked beneath him. "Our guests have arrived. Make them feel welcome, witch."

"Gladly, Sire." And, in a voice like molten lava meeting the sea, Haggar began her spell.

The comm was full of chatter. As usual, Hunk could hardly hear himself think.

"Lance, check your six," Keith was saying. "You've got a couple of bat fighters closing in fast." Then, "I've got the command ship, team. Sven, Lance, take care of the fighters. Hunk and Pidge stay high and watch for robeasts."

"Gotcha, Cap," Lance drawled. Executing a looping, banking turn, he blasted his pursuers out of the sky, then tapped the comm again. "Hey, Sven; I got a six-pack in the cooler says I shoot more down than you do!"

Ericksen replied with a question as he pursued a trio of fighters into a narrow canyon. "Arussian beer, or Galran?"

"Dude! Have you ever known me to buy anything but the best?" Lt. Calvin actually sounded hurt. "It's the good stuff, buddy, honest! So, we on?"

"Ja. And you're already behind, sixteen to forty." And so on. Hunk shook his head a little. Sometimes it seemed that Lance and Sven spent as much time slamming on each other as they did flying. Their fun never seemed to get in the way of business, though.

A sudden warning light on Gold's instrument panel got Hunk's attention.

"What you got there, Bubba?" He rumbled, more than half convinced that the lion could hear and understand. "Found something bigger n' uglier than me?"

Indeed he had. A nightmarish mountain of a robeast had materialized in the low hills north of the castle. Easily a hundred feet tall, the thing was equipped with pulsing, titanium-armored skin, laser eyes and a hurricane of whirling buzz saws. Lifting its knotted arms to the sky, the robeast bellowed a challenge that shook the castle. Slapping his comm button, Pidge shouted happily,

"It's show time, Big Guy! Double team?"

But Hunk shook his head. "Naw, let's sit back and study this 'un for awhile, Squirt. Circle high and drop a few bombs while I force net 'im. Let's see what he's got 'fore we commit ourselves."

"Very well, here goes!" So saying, Pidge swung Green around and cut loose with a blistering hail of lasers, missiles and fire bombs. Backing his young wingman, Hunk brought Gold a little closer, then slammed a mighty force field around the monster. It twisted and shrieked, struggling vainly to free itself from Gold's invisible net while fire and thunder rained down.

Things were going well. Lotor's command ship had all but lost its shielding, the fighters were reduced to smoking wreckage, and the massive robeast was firmly enmeshed. Then Haggar finished her spell. As the last rasping word escaped her withered lips, five beams of psionic force burst from her staff, shot straight through the command ship's hull and into the lions.

Keith was closest and first hit. Clutching his head, the commander gave a single, agonized scream, then slumped unconscious in his seat. Moments later, Black Lion dropped from the sky. Red was the next to fall, as the witch's confusion spell scrambled her systems and took out her pilot. Then the green lion, as Pidge scrambled desperately to evade the zigzagging beam. Sven was hit, too, but managed to stay conscious; barely. Having been a mech pilot before ending up on Arus, he had better than average psionic shielding. Blue Lion faltered, but stayed in the air. As for Hunk, good fortune placed him just beyond the range of Haggar's spell. He escaped with little more than a headache… and a pile of trouble.

Leaning forward in his command seat, Lotor gave an exultant little laugh. "Now! Release the other robeasts now, and finish them!"

While Hunk struggled with the first robeast, the smoky-yellow sky filled with dozens of smaller ones. Smaller, but no less fierce. These were miniature versions of the big one, complete with buzz saws, lasers and bloodlust. Materializing around Lotor's command ship, the new robeasts immediately fell upon the helpless lions, severing their main sensor cables and dragging them toward a waiting lander. Red, Green and Black were soon captured. Then the little maniacs turned their attention to Blue. One of them attached itself to the lion's broad back, scrambling its sensors with a massive discharge of electricity. Another attacked the war-beast's armored flank. Desperate to help, LaChance triggered Gold's meteor shower, sending hundreds of tons of blazing rock jetting from the lion's mouth. Like hot knives, the meteors gouged and sliced their way through the big robeast's titanium hide, shredding it like cheese. Before the monster could heal itself, Hunk struck again, this time with Gold's shoulder missiles. Pulling his lion out of range in a crushing high-speed turn, he craned his head around to watch as first one, and then the second missile thudded home. A heartbeat later the monster erupted in a tremendous, eye-searing blaze of light, blasting out an enormous crater and draping the surrounding half-mile of countryside in lumps of oozing flesh and smoldering metal. Gold was free, and not a moment too soon, for Blue was nearly finished.

Muttering a quick prayer under his breath, Hunk brought Gold back around and charged to the rescue. Blue was on the ground now, swatting robeasts from the sky with forepaws and ice rays, for his back legs were useless. Before Hunk could react, one of the miniature monsters tore through Blue's flickering shields and ripped a huge, sparking gash in the lion's side. Roaring, Blue lashed out with a razor-taloned forepaw, smashing the robeast flat. Ten more took its place, though, eager to finish the job.

"No you don't!" Hunk muttered between clenched teeth, vaguely aware that the black command ship had begun to reorient its cannons. Giving the stick a hard yank, he swooped in, blasted away a dozen robeasts, and thudded to the ground at Blue's side. A single attempt to hail Sven revealed that the other pilot's comm was fried. No matter. He could sense a mighty wave of rage and pain from the lieutenant commander, meaning that communication was still possible, if one was willing to experiment. Closing his eyes, Hunk visualized as clearly as he could Gold seizing Blue by the scruff, slapping a force field around the two of them, and flying to safety. But the picture seemed to shred, reforming suddenly as Blue and Gold fighting side by side to free the others. Evidently, Sven refused to acknowledge how badly he and his lion were injured. Hunk wasn't having any nonsense, though.

"Sorry about that, fella. You c'n court martial me later, but we ain't got what you'd call loads 'a time, nor a sick flea's chance in perdition 'gainst that bunch! Not till you're healed up, anyways. Now, hush up and enjoy the ride."

So saying, Hunk locked Gold's powerful jaws around the other lion's neck and blasted away from the ground. Flying heavily, for the two of them weren't exactly aerodynamic, Hunk triggered his force field, evaded a swarm of heat-seeking missiles, and fled the scene of Lotor's triumph.

The prince vaulted to his feet, spewing curses like an open sewer. Diving across the bridge, Lotor hurled the comm officer from his chair and keyed the transmitter.

"Soldiers of Galra!" He bellowed, golden eyes hard. "Find the lion pilots and bring them to me, or I will have you thrown to the robeasts! The invasion goes forth immediately!"

Meanwhile, Haggar fidgeted with the edge of her cloak and watched his histrionics, wondering how she might turn this partial victory to her advantage. For she knew, as Lotor did, that no one was safe until the last of the foreign-born humans had been hunted down and exterminated.

"My prince…," she said at last, "If I may make a suggestion…?"

The crown prince pivoted to face her, wild with thwarted hate. "What is it, witch?!"

Bowing her head, Haggar smiled narrowly. "It seems to me that the best way to flush out the missing Voltron pilots is to lure them back to us. Perhaps if we schedule a public execution, here on the palace grounds, of the pilots we DO have, and the apeling princess, the other two will emerge to attempt a rescue."

Lotor weighed the notion in his mind, scowling ferociously. "Why would they risk themselves?" He snapped at last.

"Because they care for one another," the witch replied, a little bitterly. "Because they are friends."

The prince snorted. "Friends? Surely you don't expect me to believe that these… humans… would throw potential victory away for the sake of a hormone imbalance?"

Haggar shrugged. Why explain blue to the blind?

"Nevertheless, it is a mammalian trait, one that we can exploit to achieve the reward you so justly deserve."

Lotor grunted. He didn't like what he didn't understand, and liked less having to make use of such mysteries. Still… if the witch recommended it…

"Do as you see fit. All I require is five severed heads, control of the planet, and the Princess Allura in chains. Understood?"

"Your will is law, Sire."

Hiding her face in the dark folds of her hood, Haggar smiled. "Do as you see fit," he'd said… And that covered an awful lot of territory.