"It's Academy tradition," Lance informed her, seriously. "Space Academy cadets never use conventional sleds, the Official Rule Book states quite clearly: 'Cafeteria trays only'."

"Hence the term, 'traying'." Hunk added. "You didn't just slide on the campus hills, you 'trayed' them."

"I can't imagine that would be very comfortable or safe at all!" Allura exclaimed. "There's no way to steer, and fiberglass doesn't give an inch when going over bumps!"

"That's the idea," Lance smiled grimly. "It made for some dangerous runs, but if you wanted personal glory and enshrinement in the record books for that year, you had to follow tradition."

The Princess' eyes widened. "Record books? You mean the Academy's administration sanctioned events like this?"

"Not exactly," Keith spoke up, with a small smile. "In fact, when we were juniors, 'traying' was banned by the Board of Regents as too risky, mainly because a first year cadet had to be hospitalized after a late night run on 'The Blender'."

"Oh, and like we didn't take risks in combat training?" Lance asked his friend, sarcastically. "That still bugs me, what a bunch of hypocrites!"

Keith shrugged. "To them it was a case of overly competitive people taking needless chances. They didn't want to see students injured because of sheer stupidity, plus the Academy was afraid of lawsuits and the hikes in their insurance rates." He paused. "Not to mention the fact that they were spending a major amount on replacing cracked trays," he finished, wryly.

Lance grinned. "Yeah, that was a big problem. I remember the monitors frisking Hunk every time he left the cafeteria, because he was one of the few people who were big enough to hide a tray under their uniform."

Hunk shook his head at the memory. "Yeah, that was a real pain. It really cut down on my chances of sneaking out extra desserts, too."

His friends laughed at his peeved expression.

Lance clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, and patted the rounded, but taut stomach under the gold parka he wore. "We really appreciated your sacrifices, Big Guy. You made an excellent decoy so that Cliff and Ginger, or Pidge and I could sneak by with a couple trays here and there."

Allura grinned, then asked, "So did the ban stop the 'traying'?"

Lance smirked at her question. "Are you kidding? It just made things worse. Now the challenge was even greater- to set records, and not get caught."

Keith laughed. "Yeah, that's true."

The Princess chuckled, and inquired teasingly, "So, Captain, did you ever 'tray' after the ban?"

There was a slight silence as the men exchanged wary glances.

She folded her arms. "Well? Afraid to fess up?"

"Um, I may have," Keith finally confessed, reluctantly.

"Really?" Her eyes reflected an amused shock. "The great Captain Keith broke a rule?"

"Well, uh, I-"

"He did for the good of the team!" Lance staunchly defended his buddy. "You see, Princess, it was a matter of pride and honor. There were these obnoxious seniors who always said they were going to kick the sh-"

"Lance!" The Captain quickly cautioned his second-in-command. "Need I remind you that there are some things that are best left unsaid in mixed company?"

"Oh yeah, right." The Red Lion pilot looked embarrassed at his second snafu that day. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Allura said kindly. "I get the gist of what was at stake. So did you save the day, Keith?" Her mouth widened in a bright smile as she gazed admiringly at him.

Lance and Hunk tried not to snicker. The invincible Captain had been more than vulnerable that day. It had been a very interesting experience to see their illustrious leader heaving his stomach contents into a snow bank every time he had finished a run.

"No, actually, I totally crashed and burned on the last run. Pidge was the one who saved our hides!" The Captain admitted, with a pointed glare at his fellow alumnus. His eye caught a flash of green, and silently giving thanks for the reprieve, he diverted their attention to his teammate. "Look, team, he's just reached the top!"

The Princess and the three men all focused on the slightly built figure now at the summit of the run, which waved in acknowledgment of their attention.

Hunk yelled, "Way to go, little buddy!"

Pidge gave him a brisk salute, then got down to business.

His audience of four watched in silence as Pidge surveyed the hill, and then decisively walked to a specific spot. He then placed the saucer shaped tray on the ground, moving it back and forth for a few moments to test the snow's resistance. After completing the task to his satisfaction, the boy stood up and his friends saw him remove, and then carefully pocket his glasses inside his jacket.

"Oh, he should leave them on, or he won't be able to see the moguls," Allura fretted, while putting a mitten covered hand to her mouth. "And why is he getting rid of his hat? He'll get frostbite from the wind chill!"

Sure enough, the youth had discarded his multi-colored knit hat, and now was groping in his jacket's side pockets as if trying to locate something.

"I don't believe it," Lance breathed. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Keith shook his head in disbelief. "You don't suppose he would bring it all the way to Arus, do ya?"

"Bring what?" The Princess asked, her curiosity rising.

Hunk grinned. "I think he would, and did! Look at him!"

They looked just in time to see the diminutive Green Lion pilot pull a wad of chocolate brown leather out of his left coat pocket, slide it over his unruly auburn hair, and carefully adjust, what had now materialized as a close fitting type if cap, to his liking. Allura could see that there were leather earflaps on each side of the boy's head, which tapered into what appeared to be chin straps. He left them loose, and they dangled to his shoulders in a jaunty fashion.

Pidge reached up to the two knobs on top of the cap and slid them down over his eyes. Now the Princess could see that they were goggles of some kind.

"What in the world is he wearing?" She asked, in puzzlement.

"It's an early twentieth century Terran aviator's cap he found in a pawn shop on Balto." Hunk informed her. "It's his good luck charm. Last time he wore it, he conquered the 'Blender'."

Lance asked solemnly, "You know what this means, don't you, guys?" He continued gleefully, not waiting for an answer. "Gentlemen, and Princess, may I be the first to announce the inevitable return of the one, the only- 'Splat Boy'!"

"ALL HAIL SPLAT BOY!" Hunk shouted in exultation.

To the Princess' immense amusement, the three men dropped to their knees and made circles with their thumbs and forefingers, placing them around their eyes as if to emulate Pidge's goggles. Then, very loudly, they began to chant:

"Hail Splat Boy, he's the best! He'll put your courage to the test! He'll stop at nothing, not even walls; he'll take on anyone, 'cause he has balls!"

Laughter bubbled up inside Allura's chest. She tried to contain it, because obviously, the boys took this ritual very seriously. Despite her valiant efforts, it finally escaped in loud, long, melodious peals.

The heads of the three kneeling figures swiveled at the sound.

"She's laughing at us," Lance muttered to Keith, his face going as red as his jacket at the sheer gall of their female companion.

"I know." His friend ruefully replied, also flushing, but because he realized just what they had said and how bad it must have sounded.

"Women just don't get it," Hunk grumbled. "Traditions are essential. I guess Princess doesn't realize how important they are to us, or she wouldn't be so amused."

Allura stopped laughing, when she noticed the acerbic glares her teammates were directing her way.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, a spasm of giggles still threatening to overcome her good intentions. "'Splat Boy' just seems like such an odd name for a hero."

They let her expend her hilarity, while wearing slightly defensive expressions.

"Don't judge it too quickly, Princess. 'Splat Boy' is a legend come to life, you'll see!" Hunk admonished her, as she finally stopped giggling. "You really need to know a lot more about our customs to appreciate them, I can tell."

"You're probably right," Allura replied apologetically, but with a mysterious smile. She could feel Keith's warm, questioning gaze upon her, but avoided his eyes this time, lest she give her secret away.

The Captain saw her telltale blush, however, and smiled to himself as he thought of his own secret.

Up at the top of the hill, Pidge was busily checking the wind and making his calculations for descent. If all went well, he'd end up in the soft bank of powdered snow just to the left of the moat. To do that, he'd have to hit each mogul perfectly, which should be no problem for a person of his talent and experience. He was Splat Boy, King of the Hills. So let it be written. So let it be done.

He sat down, carefully positioning himself on the tray, adjusted his goggles once more, took a deep breath, and pushed off.

His teammates rushed to line themselves up at his approach. They hooted and hollered, egging him on as he gained speed.

"Dang, I wish I had a cowbell!" Hunk exclaimed.

Allura glanced at Keith.

"Another ritual, Princess." He smiled, and shrugged.

"YI- YI -YI- YI- YI- YI- YI- YI !" Screamed Lance, as Pidge went cruising by them.

Allura just shook her head in amusement at that particular outburst, and then focused her concerned gaze on the green blur rocketing down the hill.

Pidge grinned broadly as he heard Lance's cheer fading away behind him, and immediately wished he hadn't, because his lips immediately peeled back with the G-force and stuck there, making his gums and bared teeth ache from the bitterly cold wind generated by his motion. That same wind also buffeted his body, so he lowered his chest over crossed legs and held it there, an increasingly difficult feat as he gained more and more speed and his back began to feel the strain. His earflap straps were viciously whipping against the back of his head, adding to the overall discomfort, but at least he was used to that little inconvenience. What he wasn't used to was the extreme trajectory of this hill. There were no flat spots, it truly was down hill, all the way.

His gloved hands tightly gripped the slight lip of the tray as he braced himself for the thrill and the pain of the first mogul he needed to traverse. The hazel eyes behind the goggles gleamed with determination and more than a hint of fear as what seemed an impossibly huge mound of snow loomed in front of him. At the last second he shifted his weight and his tray careened off the side of the snow mass to point him in precisely the direction he had planned to go. His confidence soared. One down, four to go!

"Beauty," Hunk breathed. "Did you see him take that bump?"

"Like poetry in motion, " Keith agreed. "He calculated the trajectory perfectly."

Lance grinned. "Splat Boy rules!" He announced, with satisfaction.

The next mogul went just as smoothly and Allura began to relax. Pidge obviously not only knew what he was doing, he was a professional at it, it was so clear to her now. She could see why his teammates idolized him so. But why did they call him Splat Boy?

Noticing how absorbed the men were with the run, the Princess knew now was not the time to ask. Perhaps later. Men never liked to be questioned at crucial times in athletic events, that much she had also learned from her comrades.

Pidge took the next bump at breakneck speed, became airborne, but kept his body low, and the tray solidly under him. He landed beautifully, his form looking as aerodynamic as a ski jumper's.

Allura gasped in admiration. It was pure poetry in motion, and poetry had always stirred her to the depths of her soul.

"HANG ON, SPLAT BOY!! YOU CAN DO IT!!" The Princess shrieked suddenly, severely startling her companions.

They stared at her with various degrees of astonishment, disbelief and dawning amusement.

"What? Why are you all looking at me like that? I can get into the spirit as well as anyone, when given a chance, you know!" She sniffed at them.

Hunk grinned in approval. "Know what? You're all right in my book, Princess! Put 'er there!" He stuck out a huge, gloved hand, palm up and Allura slapped it once, then again as he raised it high.

She turned to a delighted looking Lance and he immediately wrapped her in a huge hug. She returned it enthusiastically, then felt the coldness of his ear against her cheek and yelped. "Lance, for goodness sake, put on your hat, or you'll get frostbite!"

"Not if I stay right here," he gravely informed her, tightening his arms, and pressing his ear against her.

"That's nice of you Lieutenant, but you're missing the end of the run!" The stern voice had Lance dropping his arms post haste.

Allura blushed as she saw the irritated expression on Keith's face. She avoided Lance's amused gaze and turned back to watching Pidge, just in time to see him sail cleanly through the fourth set of moguls. She thumped her mittens together in glee. He was almost there!

Out on the run, Pidge was feeling invincible. So far he had been right on in all his prognostications, and now the easiest part of the run was coming up. He was home free! A surge of jubilation shot through his extremities at the thought. It lasted all of five seconds, pulsing strongly, until he hit the icy patch he hadn't had any idea existed, and had not planned for at all.

He spun slightly to the right. He leaned right to compensate, and it worked until he hit the next patch, which turned him a full 180 degrees to the left.

His friends saw his predicament unfolding and gasped.

"Not good!" Lance bit out. "Not good at all."

"Think he can pull out of it?" Hunk asked fearfully.

"Maybe, but if he doesn't do it soon, he'll be hitting that last set of moguls sideways..." The Red Lion pilot grimaced.

"And it's goodbye, Pidge!" Allura finished his sentence, and then groaned. "Oh, I knew I shouldn't have let him do the tray, he has no way to steer!"

"But he has an excellent understanding of physics!" Keith tried to comfort her. "And he'll use it!"

But all the knowledge in the world couldn't overcome the obstacles Mother Nature had put in the Green Lion pilot's path. Pidge desperately worked to correct his spinning saucer, but to no avail. He could feel impending doom, and envision the intense pain of the thing he feared most, but had experienced too many times to count:

The Inevitable Splat.

~Oh my. This is going to be a doozy!~ Was his last coherent thought before he sacrificed his body for his art.

It was really quite spectacular when it came.

The tray hit the mogul dead on, flying off the top with amazing hang time. For a moment it looked as if the run could be salvaged, but then further disaster struck. An updraft caused Pidge's chest to bounce; his body straightened up for only a second, but that second sealed his fate.

It seemed to his on-looking friends that everything happened in slow motion after that. The tray went hurtling off to the right, and the uncoiled form of their teammate went left, head over heels. The tray stopped abruptly as it embedded itself in the side of a drift, but the rider kept on going, wildly turning cartwheels down the mountain.

"Oh my Lord, he's turned at least thirty of them so far, he's going to puke for sure!" Hunk gasped.

"Who cares about that? How is he going to stop?" Allura cried.

"My guess is that huge drift he's headed for will stop him," Keith stated grimly.

They all stared at the far away mass.

"Is it powder, or frozen?" Lance asked.

"Hard to tell from here. We'd better get down there, pronto!" The Captain replied, worriedly.

They started down the side of the hill, keeping a close watch on the cart wheeling youth, until mercifully, the aforementioned drift stopped his unplanned mode of descent with authority, and a dramatically large poof of snow.

"Thank God, it was powder," Hunk breathed thankfully. "We've got to get down there, quick!" He tried to break into a run, but had to settle for fast hiking in the semi-deep snow. The others followed in his wake, stepping in his large boot prints.

Even with a trail being broken for her, Allura was struggling to keep up with the long strides of the men. She also was pulling the toboggan, and that gave her an idea.

Stopping, with no inkling to the others as to what she was planning, she expertly gauged how far it was to Pidge from the caner of his run. Since she was far enough down that her speed would be manageable, she turned to drag the sled out onto the course. She would be the first one down to help her brave but foolhardy friend, because she was the one who had allowed this catastrophe to happen.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She turned to see Keith right next to her, giving her a severe look.

"I'm going to help Pidge," she snapped back, starting to walk toward her starting point once more. She reached it, quickly set the sled down and clambered upon it.

She glared at the scowling Captain who had managed to grab hold of the front of the toboggan front from her right side. "Out of my way, Keith!" She ordered.

"Not on your life! Which you will lose if you go down this hill alone!" He retorted.

"So come with me," she muttered, earning herself another dirty look. She childishly put out her tongue at him in response.

Ignoring her unseemly display, Keith started to walk in front of the sled but stopped when he figured out it placed him at a disadvantage, as she could easily push him backwards. Switching tactics, he straddled the sled so he was directly behind her. His intent was to grab her under the arms and bodily lift her off the sled.

That was the intent. It was a good intention. The best of intentions really.

That is why it failed miserably.

The sled started to move as he let go the front, and the Voltron Captain shot backwards, his bottom landing with a stinging thud on the wooden planks behind the Princess. His legs flew upwards, and the motion helped push the toboggan into an inescapable slide.

"Fasten your seatbelt, Keith, it's going to be a bumpy ride!" Allura yelled triumphantly.

Her passenger groaned loudly, but quickly resigned himself to his fate. He tucked in his legs on each side of the woman in front of him, and then wrapped his arms around her waist, desperately hoping he wouldn't lose his lunch on this run.

To be continued, of course...:)