"It won't be long now, Hagar. I can already see the spires of that accursed castle on my monitor." Lotor growled into his ship's communicator. Although he completely loathed that damned, near-impenetrable Fortress of Goodness and Light, he was glad to see it, and not just because the fair Allura resided inside its walls of steel. No, right now seeing their destination meant that he could soon climb out of the hellhole Hagar called a 'Coffin-Cruiser'; a mode of transport that ranked as 'highly abhorrent' on his internalized hate-o-meter.

Not only was it disconcerting to be on his back, (a position he thought should be reserved for other far more enjoyable activities) he also despised having the lid so close to his face. It gave him the willies, like he was buried alive. On his longer jaunts, he had even found himself involuntarily scratching at the hatch, trying to get out.

Where was that Old Witch anyway? What if he couldn't get the hatch open when he landed? "Hagar, do you read? Answer me!" He commanded, with a touch of alarm.

Hagar cackled to herself as she heard the panic underlying the Prince's terse words. Lotor was claustrophobic, a fact no one on Doom was privy to, and if anyone was, they usually disappeared -quickly. Hagar had known for a long time, since Lotor was a boy, in fact, but chose not to mention that she did for obvious reasons. Even as an adolescent, Lotor had had a nasty temper.

Cleverly, she had curried his favor by devising a magical means of transporting the Coffin-like pods, so that it was a matter of minutes, not hours, before they reached Planet Arus. She supposed being in the Doom Prince's good graces was a advantageous thing, although she rather missed hearing his whimpers and wild ranting after spending hours closed up in a pod. She actually liked the close quarters herself; and it gave her enough time and seclusion to do her daily affirmations without being interrupted by the constant jabbering of those infernal robot soldiers Zarkon was so fond of, bless his evil heart.

She checked to see that the third pod her ship was towing was still intact; it was, and she was almost disappointed to see that it was so. She had a very bad feeling about this plot; it reeked with the stench of a potential farce. But then again, which of Lotor's schemes didn't? She cackled again at the thought, and then debated how long she should let his anxiety build.

"HAGAR!" The feedback was painful, and she cringed as the Prince's voice roared into the cockpit accompanied by a high screeching tone. Evidently Lotor had reached his limit.

"This is Hagar. You shrieked, my Prince?" She replied in a sticky-sweet voice. "Is everything all right?"

"Er...yes! I just thought you couldn't hear me, old woman." The tyrant muttered.

"We are only five minutes away from our targeted destination, Your Evilness," The crone replied soothingly. "Try and be patient." She paused. "If it helps, think of that prissy- uh, I mean, Princess."

"Ah yes," Lotor felt himself relaxing. "Yes... soon you are to be mine, Allura."

As the Prince droned on and on and on about his favorite obsession to her over the communicator, Hagar tuned him out once again, concentrating instead on finding a suitable landing spot. The forest should be just about- ah yes, there it was, the Hidden Glen they always used. That probably meant it didn't qualify as 'hidden' anymore, but she wasn't interested in semantics, unless they involved witchcraft, of course.

The three pods hovered over the clearing, and then quietly lowered themselves to rest, much like actual coffins descending into the ground. The feeling didn't sit well with the Prince, who abruptly abandoned his Princess prattle and fell silent, his hands frantically searching for the 'release hatch' switch.

He found it and breathed a ragged sigh of relief. The minute he felt the slight thud and vibration that told him he was on solid ground, he opened up the ship. He scrambled out, straightened his tunic, put on and adjusted his battle helmet, and then waited with impatience for Hagar to emerge from her own transport.

Back at the Castle of Lions, everyone was scrambling to carry out 'The Plan -Phase Two'. In a small shipping dock next to Castle Control, which now served as a makeshift hangar, a feisty 'John Brain' and a laid-back Pidge were briefing his new team on the new weaponry, potential perils and pitfalls of the new and improved Big Suit, which loomed impressively behind them. Cheddar, Cheesy and two of their eight children nodded in understanding as the mouse and boy finished their presentations.

"Each of you will be in one of the extremities," the Brain concluded. "And as for me, well, I'll be the head."

"You'll form the head," The pilot of Green Lion corrected.

"No, no, I'll be the head, I am always the head! " The mouse genius snapped.

"Whatever." the boy shrugged. He guessed that explained the tiny neck hole he had found on the mouse's transport. He chuckled at the absurd image that rose in his mind of a little mouse head on top of the ship's large body; the scale would be comparable to seeing his own head on top of Voltron's mighty shoulders. He giggled hysterically at the thought.

The Brain scowled at the amused boy. "Spare me your misguided hilarity, Midge."

"Sorry," Pidge replied between chuckles, not sounding sorry at all. "And the name's Pidge!"

"Whatever," The Brain retorted, snidely.

Just then, Captain Keith strode into the room. "Lotor and Hagar were just spotted at Hidden Glen, team!" He grimly informed the assembled mice and Pidge.

"Why do they call it that when everyone knows where it is?" Pidge asked.

"Well," Keith pondered, taken aback. "I suppose it's because if one didn't know it was there, they wouldn't find it, and therefore it would be 'hidden'."

"But we know where it is, and so do Lotor and Hagar. Don't you think we should find another name for it?"

"Yeah, I guess we should. Ah, I know, let's ask Lynne, she'll come up with a good one!" Keith responded, with a wide smile. He turned as if to face an unseen being and winked flirtatiously.

Pidge scoffed, "Oh please- ask Lynne? She's clueless. We should ask Mark, he's the one who did the plot!" Pidge also turned and winked broadly at an invisible being, and then quickly jumped aside as a falling anvil nearly took him out.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times; little buddy, don't mess with her! Lynne's got the power to write you out!" Keith hissed, while staring at the huge anvil with widened eyes.

"Hmph! You mean, EvilLynne, don't you?" Pidge muttered, also looking askance at the anvil. "What a bi-"

"Please. Allow me be your conductor for your return trip to reality, gentlemen." The Brain cut in sarcastically. "In case you've forgotten, we have a situation, a code red, a highly calamitous occurrence developing here! Lotor is on your back doorstep and he's scratching to get in! I suggest you leave the semantics for later and get a move on!"

The Black Lion pilot nodded grimly. "He's right, Pidge. We can think of a name later. Right now we need to save Antonio and foil Lotor's scheme; Allura, Lance and Hunk are already on their way. Let's get to our lions!"

"Right Chief!"

The two pilots dashed out of the room and down the hall. A minute later they ran by again, this time in the right direction.

The Brain could hear the distinctive sound of launch chutes deploying, then pounding footsteps. Seconds later a loud, long yell was heard, followed by an echoing thud, then dead silence. The mice immediately ran to Control, where they found Keith and Coran kneeling and looking down into Launch Chute Number Three.

Cheddar and Cheesy exchanged concerned glances and then looked fearfully around the room as if scanning for some imaginary presence. The Brain closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief as Keith's concerned tones drifted to their mousy ears.

"Pidge! Are you okay? Coran, get help! I think he slipped off the trapeze bar."

"Good Lord!" The older man ran to the control panel and pressed a red, cross shaped switch.

"I warned him- I even told him not to mess with her, but he never listens!" The Voltron Captain loudly whispered to the watching rodents.

"I will now," Pidge's sarcastic but feeble tones echoed up from the bottom of the launch chute.

"Medic to Castle Control. Medic to Castle Control." A tinny voice quickly announced over, and over on the intercom system.

"Tell me again how this team has never lost to a RoBeast?" The Brain moaned to Cheddar, who shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

"It's up to us, then. If the boy is severely injured, then they cannot form Voltron."


Back in the Perfectly Visible Glen, Hagar stretched lazily, and then climbed out of her ship. "What a nice, relaxing trip," She addressed the scowling Lotor pleasantly. "It's amazing how much a little time alone in a tight, confined, virtually airless space can do for one's evil spirit."

"Yes, yes." He waved a dismissive hand, eager to change the subject. "I agree, but we don't have time for chit-chat. It's time to set our plan in motion."

"Your plan," The crone corrected sharply. "I'm not taking credit for this one."

"How kind of you to step aside and leave the glory to me, Old Witch." The Prince looked vastly pleased at her uncommon generosity.

"Not at all," Hagar mumbled, nervously adjusting her robe. "If Zarkon wants to know who was responsible, don't even mention my name."

"If you insist," Lotor smirked. "Now, Hagar, release our creature to wreck his wrath upon all of Arus!"

"If I have to," she muttered. "Okay, here goes nothing, and I do mean nothing."

She reached behind her to grab her staff. Waving it half-heartedly at the third pod, she magically opened it.

"Arise, great beast, your Prince is need of you!" She screeched.

A great rumbling sigh emitted from the coffin ship, and slowly two large feet, followed by an immense armor clad white body, topped by a large eared head with horns rose from the transport. It was Pinky- but yet not Pinky.

"Arise great Antonio, there is work to be done!" Hagar called to the giant mouse.

He blinked at her sleepily, then stood up. The hag waved her lazon fueled staff at him, and he quickly started to expand to his new height of eighty feet, four and one quarter inches.

"That's it. that's it..." the witch encouraged her creation as he swelled. Soon the creature was completely full-grown. "What do you think of him, Your Highness?" She asked, slyly.

The Pinky-Beast regarded them impassively, while it did so, a large paw lifted to the huge nose and began to pick it.

"Ewww..." Lotor shuddered as he perused the gigantic rodent. "He still acts stupidly, but his lack of wit will make him easy to control. The horns, spiked collar and breastplates are a nice touch."

"Thank you, Sire." Hagar dipped her head briefly.

The Pinky-Beast opened its mouth. "NAAARRRRRFFFF!" It roared, making the leaves shake and fall from the trees all around him.

"Yes, my rodent friend, soon you will be able to see her, don't worry. All you have to do is bring her to me, and you and I will share her, forever." The Doom Prince shouted.

The Pinky-Beast threw back its head and stretched out its arms in exultation.

Lotor and Hagar lunged in opposite directions as two massive oaks came crashing down into the glen.

"Watch it, you idiot!" The Prince picked himself up. "You're going to have to be more aware of your surroundings!"

"PPPOI I ITT!" The beast burped out apologetically, dropping its arms.

"Yes, well, see that it doesn't happen again!" Lotor commanded loudly. "Remember, you are fighting for us, and for true love, so don't screw up! Win one for the Doomies!"

"Oh yes, that will do it. What a pep talk." Hagar cackled sarcastically, as she sat down on one of the trunks of the fallen trees. "Go team, go!" She shook her staff and chuckled.

Lotor gave her a dirty look, which only made the hag cackle louder. He decided to ignore her for the moment; when victory was his, he'd deal quite harshly with the old bat.

Turning to his RoBeast he raised his arms in a grand, sweeping, gesture. "Now onward, Antonio, plunder and pillage the castle ramparts to deliver my Beloved from an mediocre existence of eternal, saccharine bliss."

The mouse-beast blinked down at him in confusion.

The Prince tried again; he repeated the gesture. "Depart, great beast. Now is the time to blitzkrieg! Demolish the House of Perpetual Saintliness and retrieve its Monarch!"

The Pinky-Beast looked even more confused and lifted a mighty paw to scratch behind one long, green horn.

Lotor stamped his feet in frustration. "Dammit! If I could reach you, I'd hurt you! Just get your white furry ass over to the castle and grab the Princess, okay? Don't make me come up there!"

This the creature seemed to take in. With a large grin, it turned and stomped toward the Castle of Lions, leaving his master, mistress and what now had become the Totally Demolished Glen, far behind.

"Good Grief!" Hunk gasped as he spied the RoBeast. "Wouldja get a load of the size of that rodent?! Someone call the Exterminator, quick!"

"Oh no," Allura whispered, as she spotted the titanic size mouse headed her way.

She recognized him in a flash and tried to reach out to her romantic little friend. "Antonio, it's me, Allura. Antonio, don't you remember me? Stop! Look at you, you're squishing people and lots of other things! Don't you care?"

There was no sound other than the thundering crash of the Pinky-Beast's footsteps as he continued to advance toward the Lions.

"ANTONIO!" She shrieked out, then dropped her head despairingly on the console of Blue Lion and sobbed.

"It's no good Princess, he's under Lotor's control . With Pidge unavailable, we can't form Voltron, so we have to act fast. Better just put him out of his misery before he gets to the castle," Lance stated grimly.

"That won't be necessary, Lance!" A strangely familiar, yet acerbic voice broke in to inform him. "Your Pidge may have a broken wing, but you still have a Brain."

To be continued...:)