A few minutes more ought to do it, Allura figured. Another few tears and longing sighs, a flirty sideways glance, and then she'd pretend to faint. The guards would rush over to break her fall, of course. And then…? Well, that's what concealed stunners were for, wasn't it? Thank the powers for Nanny's sour suspicion of Keith and the others! Expecting some sort of midnight panty raid, the old nurse had deposited small, elegant weapons behind every throw pillow, stuffed animal and potted plant. All Lura had to do now was overcome her wardens, steal the keys, and then free her imprisoned champions. What could be simpler?

Drifting like dandelion fluff across the pink-and-gold room, Lura paused at one huge bay window, pressed a slender hand dramatically against her heaving chest, then crumpled.

Three… two… one! She counted to herself, feeling the Galrans seize hold of her slowly wilting form right on schedule. Predictably, they immediately fell to arguing.

"Release the princess, dog!" Snarled the first. "I have her!"

"No, I do! Hands off or I sever them, skrug-eater!"

Neither man noticed the tiny stunner that their supposedly unconscious prize had drawn from one wide, trailing sleeve. Nor did they see her press the ruby firing stud. Two seconds later they were flat on their backs, twitching like landed fish.

"Gotcha!" (A term she'd learned from Lance) Allura was patting them down for keys when a shadow fell over her. Startled, she looked up… and up.

Standing before her was a tall man, very handsome and muscular. His bluish-grey skin was faintly scaled, his eyes as yellow as an alley cat's. Long, silky white hair cascaded down his broad back like an icy river. Lotor, Zarkon's son and heir.

The expression on his face caught and held her attention; haughty and possessive, he looked as though he intended to carry her off and… Well, princesses weren't supposed to think such things.

Confused, and more than a little fearful, Allura made a great show of patting the guards' faces and straightening their rumpled uniforms.

"I… they… I was just…"

He didn't let her finish. Reaching down, the prince seized Allura's arm and yanked her up to face him. Moments later she was crushed against his powerful body. Instinctively, she began twisting and struggling.

"Let…me…go! Release me, Lotor, or on my father's honor, I'll…"

"Your father is no more than a moldering corpse, Tzezrah, and I care as little for his honor as the grave worms do! You, though, I care for very… very much. You will be the jewel of my conquest, ruling beside me as queen of all the empire!" And then he kissed her, hot and fierce. Allura went weak in the knees, unable to think or speak. A tidal wave of savage emotion raced through her, drowning everything but the moment. Then his fangs scraped her lower lip a bit, reminding her just whose arms she was melting into.

Drawing her head back, Allura whipped it suddenly forward, smashing Lotor's nose with her forehead. Sven had taught her that one, as well as a few all-purpose body throws.

Clutching at his gushing, swollen nose, the prince staggered backward a few paces, giving Allura just enough time to snatch his pistol and run. Unfortunately, he was between her and the door, leaving Lura no choice but to flee to her sitting room. Slamming shut the great doors, she began shoving furniture in front of them, pulling, pushing and rolling the massive objects with desperate strength.

Lotor cursed and raged just outside the doors, threatening ghastly vengeance.

"You will kneel at my feet, SLUT! You…(Ow! Damn it!) You will pay for this insult with tears and blood! I swear it!"

He went on and on, giving the princess a pretty fair notion of just where behind the door he was. Raising her captured pistol, Lura took careful aim and pulled the trigger. The weapon hummed like a wasp, firing an intense beam of scarlet energy and blasting a neat hole straight through the polished wood of her door. An outraged bellow rewarded her shot, followed by the sound of someone limping heavily away. Bull's-eye!

Relieved, the princess collapsed onto an upturned armchair. She was safe, for the moment. Question was, now what?

Sven awoke in slow, fuzzy stages, prodded from sleep by an insistent voice, and some sort of chemical stimulant. Not quite able to open his eyes yet, the pilot sat up, put his head in his hands, and waited for the world to stop spinning. Each smell and sound… especially that rumbling voice… went through his thumping head like an ice pick. Opening one eye, Ericksen glared at the source of the on-going commentary.

"LaChance…" he whispered. "Short words; understand?"

Hunk grinned at him. "Sure 'nuff, Lt. Commander. I was sayin' if you're awake now, I got me a plan. Can you stand up an' act… uh, like yourself?"

His headache seemed to extend a full three feet beyond his actual body. Opening the other eye, Sven considered nodding, then gave it up as too risky. How the hell could the floor be experiencing a migraine?

"Just where 'm I supposed to stand?" He wondered aloud.

"Well, that's the trick, see? I need you ta show up at the castle, bold as you please, an' distract Lotor an' his witch f'r me. Might be kinda dangerous, 'cause y'r gonna be on y'r own for a fair bit. Think y' c'n do it?"

Hunk waited anxiously, for his entire plan hinged on Sven. If the pilot could keep Lotor's attention away from the prisoners for just an hour…

"Ja," Ericksen replied, his voice quiet, but strong. "I will do what is needed."

Less than forty minutes later Hunk found himself in the catacombs beneath the palace, following his little band of friends through some exceedingly narrow passages.

"God'l'mighty, Hiro! Ya call this a tunnel?!" He grunted, sucking in his breath as he struggled to wriggle through a crack in the rock that would have given Lance a run for his money.

"Almost there, Hunk-sama!" The boy whispered back. "We are soon under the dungeon! You'll see!"

"If I don't get stuck first! Dang, if I'd known it was this tight, I'd uv greased myself. I ain't built f'r slitherin' like no snake, guys!"

Behind him, little Yasuko pushed with all her might, offering occasional words of encouragement and advice. Hunk smiled despite the discomfort, and kept on trying. After all, the kids, and the team, were depending on him.

Ten minutes of scraping and grunting got him at last through the jagged crack and into a small, dusty chamber floored in broken rock and bits of old trash. The little room was about twenty foot square, and seemed to have been abandoned by its builders fairly early on. Its rough walls were covered in chisel marks and faint chalk lines. The start of a lower level, maybe? Hunk didn't suppose he'd ever find out.

On the east wall a set of crude steps had been chipped into the rock. They slanted up and across, ending at what looked like a grated drain hole. Staring up at the little opening, Hunk shook his head.

"Uh-uh. There ain't no possible way. Not if I lost a hundred pounds today! I don't think even Pidge could get through that mouse hole! Nobody could."

Young Hiro bit his lip, embarrassed. "Last time I am here, I am being very small, Tsuyoshi. I fitted then, but maybe not now… I'm sorry."

Hunk started to say something reassuring, but was cut off by a tug on his hand. He looked down, saw Yasuko's small face gazing up at him.

"Hunk, I could fit through! I could go, and free the rest pilots!" She smiled as she said this, perfectly happy and trusting.

"No. Uh-uh. Out of the question. I ain't sendin' no little girl ta do my job. I thought I was gonna be able to get up into that prison myownself. I can't risk none of y'all like that, Sugar; it ain't right. We just need ta come up with another idea."

Only, there wasn't one. Any other way into the prison would involve passing literally hundreds of armed guards, for the Castle of Lions was stiff with Galrans. Worse yet was the grim knowledge that by now Sven had made his move, and was depending on Hunk to do the rest. And …confused and battered as he was, Ericksen had little chance of defeating Lotor and Haggar alone.

"They'll kill him…" Hunk muttered, his insides coiling into a tight, painful knot. What could he do?

Sven had taken a different passage, one that brought him through twisted, secret ways from the refuge caverns to the castle courtyard. Passing beneath the enemy's perimeter he came to the surface in a little-used guard hut.

"Place is a damn warren," he muttered to himself, pausing to recover his equilibrium. The stimulant had begun to wear off, and that spiral staircase hadn't done a thing for his vertigo. Still, he had a job to do. One hour, LaChance had told him; distract the Galrans for one hour, while the rest of the team escaped. That much, he could manage. Probably.

Straightening a little, Sven drew his sidearm, blasted apart the door, and stepped out of hiding. Now to get some attention. Reaching out with his mind, he sent a score of metal objects and shattered robeast parts bouncing and flying around the courtyard. Took a few pot shots at the startled guards, too, before raising a very weak TK shield.

"LOTOR!" Ericksen shouted, immediately wishing he hadn't. It felt like someone had detonated a surface-to-air missile inside his head. In a much quieter voice, after the universe had picked a direction and settled back down again, he continued, "you have five minutes to show yourself or…" Or what? Ericksen hadn't actually thought through what he was going to do, because he wasn't accustomed to standing around issuing challenges. He preferred stealthier methods. An idea gradually worked its way through, though. Not much, but he ran with it. "Or I'll detonate the bomb I've planted under the castle." Not wishing to be shot out of hand, he added, "It ar on a psionic dead man's switch. I die, it goes off automatically."

Lotor appeared a few moments later in a swirl of mist and colored light, Haggar at his side. The prince's nose was purple and swollen, his right leg bandaged at the knee. For an instant Sven wondered whether the others had managed to fight their way out already. But no, he decided; if Keith and Lance were loose, they'd have done a lot worse to Lotor than break his nose. The princess, maybe? Sven smiled, greatly cheered at the thought of Allura beating the crap out of Lotor.

"Rough day?" He inquired, a little unwisely. Lotor turned a very interesting shade of purple, roughly matching that battered nose.

"Shut up!" The prince snarled. "I see no detonation device, nor any evidence of a bomb, for that matter! You're bluffing!"

Bluffing? About what? Briefly, Sven forgot why he was standing in the middle of the battle-scarred courtyard facing Lotor and Haggar. Then he remembered Hunk's request. He was supposed to be keeping the Galrans busy. And… he'd planted a bomb or something…

Folding his arms across his chest, he said, "Suit yourself. By the time you learn your mistake, we'll both be dead."

"Why would you destroy yourself, and your teammates, just to eliminate me?!" Lotor demanded, starting to worry.

"Why not?" Sven replied calmly.

That was unanswerable. In Lotor's experience, Ericksen never quite acted like the others, possessing a stubborn and vengeful nature that might just make such a scenario possible. Never taking his eyes from the expressionless pilot, he hissed aside at Haggar.

"Is he lying?"

Slowly, the witch shook her head, saying, "His aura betrays no untruth, my prince. I sense great strain, and confusion, but no hint of a lie."

"Straung take it! Can your magery locate the bomb?"

"Given time, Sire, yes." The old witch didn't seem much perturbed, perhaps because she could transport herself to a safe place whenever she chose. Whether she would deign to take Lotor with her was another matter entirely; one that he didn't wish to put to the test.

"How much time do you need, witch?"

"Thirty minutes, perhaps as much as an hour. Keep the apeling distracted, Highness, and I will begin my spell."

"Very well, but hurry!" Raising his voice, the Galran prince now addressed his enemy. "Ericksen! What are your demands?"

Sven blinked. Demands…? Great. Once again, he was caught flat-footed. Why HAD he planted the damn bombs, anyway? He thought Hunk had asked him to do something, but couldn't recall what. It troubled him, not knowing what he was supposed to do, or why. Well…

Staring at Lotor's broken nose brought an inspiration, of sorts.

"The two of us will fight, here in the courtyard. No weapons, no interference." And then, because it seemed to cover whatever else he might have forgotten, "Winner takes all."

Hunk stared at the grating, deeply torn. Deciding to take a small risk, he ventured up the stairs. It was as dark above as below, but he thought he could hear voices somewhere off in the gloom. Signaling the children away, he crossed his fingers and whispered,

"Pidge? Lance? Keith? Y'all up there?"

The voices quieted immediately. Then, after a moment, "Hunk? Is that you?"

"Yup, sure 'nuff is, Squirt! Anyone up there but you three?"

"A cadre of guards outside the door, but they seem more concerned with watching for Lotor than minding us. What's the plan, Big Guy?"

"Uh… hold on, I'm workin' on it."

Once more, he measured himself against the narrow opening, then shook his head. Someone tapped him. Little Yasuko again, with her best friend Liana, and the boys.

"Tsuyoshi, if there is no one, then there is not any danger for me. I run quickly, turn off the doors, come back before you spit three times. Honest to my Ancestors!"

He started to refuse again, but the words died in his throat. Everyone was depending on him. If he did nothing, Pidge and the others would be executed, Allura would be forced into slavery as a mock "bride", and Sven would die brutally at Lotor's hand, waiting for back up that never came. Even without considering the Arussians, it was too much to bear.

Backing down the stairs, LaChance turned to face Yasuko. Dropping to one knee to bring himself to her level, he put a hand on both of her thin shoulders.

" 'Suko, the Voltron Force is in a mighty tight fix here, 'n if you're offerin' ta help, I ain't in no position ta say no. Not when there's so many folks' lives at stake. But I'm tellin' you, if you hear anyone coming, a footstep or a cough that's not from one a' us, nor the fellas up yonder, you make like a rabbit an' scoot! Hightail it on back here, girl, 'n we'll try again later. Got it?"

Dark eyes sparkling with excitement, the little one nodded. "Yes! Yes, Hunk, I got! I'm quick like the Princess' mice, you'll see!"

Overcome, he hugged her tightly, muttering a quick, heartfelt prayer.

"Okay, now; quick n' quiet. The rest a' y'all get on back through the passage. Anything goes wrong, run for it."

Allura stood in her lavish dressing room, listening at the servant's entrance. All was quiet. She hadn't heard her guards speak or move in nearly an hour. Maybe… Swallowing hard, the princess gripped her weapons a little tighter. The pistol and letter-opener felt heavy and comforting in her hands, giving her the courage to venture forth.

"Father, guide me," she whispered, turning the handle and nudging open the narrow door. "Help me to reach the lions, that I may return to free my warriors!"

A swift glance around the doorsill. No one there. The servants' corridor was deserted. Breathing a sigh of relief, Allura slipped into the darkened hall, and away.

Seeing the Prince of Galra approaching him across the palace courtyard, Sven frowned.

'What the hell's HE doing here?!' Ericksen wondered silently. Sore, headache-y and confused, he decided that they must have gotten into a fight. How else to explain the prince's broken nose and bandaged knee, and his own disorientation? The Galrans must have invaded Arus, maybe even capturing the rest of the team.

"I don't know vad you've done with the others," Sven growled, low and savage, "But if they've been harmed in any way, skit-prince, there will not be one piece of you left attached to another."

Meanwhile, Lotor was thinking, 'Just keep him talking, keep him distracted.' Ericksen's uniform had repaired itself by now, and his patched-up injuries weren't immediately obvious. His anger, on the other hand, was. Lotor wasn't afraid, precisely, but he didn't like to battle when the odds were this even. So, instead of making a move, he talked. Golden eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Sven, he said smoothly,

"Why don't we discuss this like reasonable beings, Ericksen? I'm certain that we can come to some sort of… agreement. Perhaps an exchange?"

Weird. The headache and vertigo had gotten so bad now that he could hardly think. Lotor was saying something, but most of his oily words failed to register as anything but noise. The courtyard seemed to dip and toss like the deck of a boat. Realizing that he was about to collapse, Sven lunged instead, driving his fist into the startled prince's gut with all the force he could muster, then following up with a crushing TK pulse that hurled Lotor halfway across the courtyard. Staggering after him, Sven meant to finish the job, but found himself too weak to do anything but crash to the ground at Lotor's side.

Dropping his head to his up-drawn knees and shutting his eyes, the pilot managed to beat back another wave of intense disorientation. When he found the strength to look around again, he spotted Lotor lying on the ground beside him and thought,

'Kors! Someone really messed skit-prince up good, this time…Hope it var me.'