Chapter Four
Planet Trania was a desolate wasteland. In the far borders of the Alliance, it did not have many leaders to trade with and even with the ones they had, they had few products to trade. It was a rife for rebellion as disgruntled citizens outnumbered satisfied ones four to one.
Romelle walked into the empty pub, aware that her presence had drawn plenty of unwanted attention. She kept on hand on her gun and the other hanging loosely at her side, brushing the handle of the knife she had holstered on her thigh. In the ship, Jason and Alana saw what she was seeing through the miniature camera she wore around her neck on a pendant.
"Got lots of ugly weapons in there, Aunt Romelle," Jason said.
"I doubt she needs you to tell her that," Alana said.
Spotting an empty seat at the bar that faced the door, Romelle sat down. The bartender turned and took a good look at her, irritating the two watching, and he leered as she ordered a drink.
"That one's on the house," he told her in a raspy voice.
"Nothing's ever on the house," Romelle said. "What's this really going to cost me?"
The bartender smiled...
The screen in the ship went blank.
Romelle struggled against her captors, but they were bigger and more powerful than she was. She doubted if she even made them miss a step. They dragged her, kicking and screaming, to their waiting transport, but no one seemed to pay her any mind.
"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.
Silence was her answer.
She tried to get a look at the viewscreen, but the bartender shoved her back down on her seat roughly. She glared at him but he merely gave her a quelling look. The ship landed in the middle of the forest and Romelle hoped that Jason and Alana were getting all of this. The last thing she wanted was to be executed in the middle of nowhere. They hauled her to her feet and pushed her out of the ship. She tripped and fell...saw a pair of boots stop directly in front of her.
Looking up, the color drained from her face.
"Oh, no," Jason said, leaping up.
Alana grabbed his arm before he could run through the cockpit doors. "Wait. She's got a transmitter on her. It's still working."
Eyes on the scanner, they watched Romelle leave the bar and head towards the hills.
"What do we do?" Alana said, panicked.
Jason ran a hand through his hair. "We have to follow her on foot. You know how to shoot a gun right?"
"Dad would never have let me leave if I didn't."
"Well?"
"I'm not an idiot, Jason. I can shoot."
"No one's more relieved to know that than me. We can take the bike."
Jason took out one of the two hoverbikes they had in the back. Alana climbed on behind him, her arms tight around his waist. Transfering Romelle's signal to the bike's computer, they were able to follow her deep into the hills, but when they got closer, they could no longer risk taking the loud bike with them. Her signal stabilized and stopped altogether and Jason decided they needed to do the rest of their tailing on foot.
"Where is she?" Alana whispered as they dismounted.
Jason threw camouflage over the bike and then crouched behind the rock she was leaning against.
"About two kilometers ahead," he said. "We should have tried to get a scan to see how many people are with her, but it's too late now. Stay at my back. Shoot first, ask questions later."
"Okay."
He heard the note of fear in her voice and threw a reassuring smile over his shoulder even though his own stomach was tied up in knots. Jason had been trained at shooting, just like all cadets, but he'd never had to use his gun in a real-time situation. Being on an unfriendly planet with an even less-experienced gunman on his back and having to rescue his aunt from an unknown number of assailants was not the ideal situation to start off his real-time experience. But he would make do.
They were halfway there when a man dressed in rags stopped them. In his hands, he held a very big rifle. Jason swallowed hard, putting his hands up.
"Uh..." he said.
"Very eloquent," the man retorted. "Throw the gun down and kick it over here. Both of you."
They did as they were told and the man gestured for them to walk in front of him. Jason moved quickly. The flash of his knife's blade caught the sunlight as he brought it down on the man's arm. The man let out a yell and dropped the rifle. Alana grabbed it and pointed it at him.
"Who are you?" she demanded as Jason wiped his knife on the grass.
The man refused to answer. He lifted his chin proudly and his eyes dared Alana to shoot.
"Put that rifle down, son," a voice that they didn't expect to hear said from somewhere behind Jason.
She caught Jason's eye and he gestured for her to get behind him. Not turning her back to the voice, she did that, looking over his shoulder at the form coming at them through the brush. Jason heard her gasp as Romelle emerged first, her body held stiffly, and her eyes flashing with hatred. The man behind her gave her a push and she stumbled, but didn't fall. Jason and Alana didn't notice. Their attention was on the man.
"Lotor," Jason breathed.
Lotor, former Prince of Doom, sneered at him. It did not take much to see that this was not the Lotor they had been seeing on telescreens across the Alliance. This was a man who had lived hard and it showed in the deep lines of his face, in the sag of his shoulders. Several day's worth of beard roughened his face but his yellow eyes were still sharp. They took in Jason's face...froze on Alana's.
"Nice of you to bring along some of the next generation, Romelle," he said.
"Let them go," she said. "They're no use to you."
"Oh, but I beg to differ. Let me guess. Judging from the long nose and arrogant mouth, the boy's a Branegan. The girl though is quite a beauty...a mixture of both her parents. Keith and Allura must be very proud."
"What are you doing here?" Alana demanded, her confusion apparent. "You were on Arus..."
"Oh that," he said with a dismissive hand. "In case you didn't notice, girl, I am not that man they're flaunting. As I was telling Romelle, flattered as I am that they would name their infamous group after me, I have nothing to do with it."
"You'll forgive us if we don't believe you," Romelle said acidly.
"Believe me or don't believe me, it doesn't matter. Don't you think that I would be on Arus if I had any business with these Lotorians? I may not like getting my hands dirty, but I would still be in the middle of the action. So much anger. I would have thought you would have found closure with my disappearance, my Romelle."
Romelle all but snarled. Lotor pushed her at Jason and Alana.
"Get out of here," he said, sounding tired now. "Just leave me alone."
"No," Alana said, stepping forward and evading Romelle's hand. "Tell us why they're using your name."
"I don't even know who they are, little Princess," he said.
Alana met his gaze without flinching though it took a lot for her to keep herself still. Lotor's yellow eyes were unnerving and she felt their power all the way down to her toes.
"I find that hard to believe," she said. "They're Drules and you were once a Drule prince. You have to have an idea of who is behind this."
"Just as pushy as your mother," Lotor said, tilting his head to one side thoughtfully. "I suppose I do owe you something."
The look Romelle threw him was sharp but he took it without flinching.
"Some more than others," he said, holding out a hand to her. "Come with me."
Jason and Alana looked to their aunt. Romelle stared at the hand, her indecision visible.
"Lead the way," she said, keeping her hands at her sides.
He took them through the forest, the man who had stopped Alana and Jason bringing up the rear, to a small village that had been built in a clearing. Alana and Jason were surprised to see small children running around as well as women cooking and washing clothes. It was all so...normal.
"You live here?" Jason asked before he could stop himself.
"It's not Castle Doom, which is all the better for me," Lotor said, stooping down and picking up a small blue-skinned child. "This is my son."
"No kidding," Romelle said, eyeing the child.
Alana held out her arms and the little boy willingly went into them.
"He recognizes his own blood," Lotor said quietly.
The Princess froze. They all did.
"Say again?" Jason said.
Lotor smirked, shaking his head. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you don't know. In her position, I do not think I would not have done the same."
"What are you saying?" Jason said, jabbing a finger into his face. "Spit it out, Lotor."
"I am Allura's half-brother."
Jason caught Alana and Lotor's son as the Princess' eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fainted.
"That's not something I would expect from a daughter of Allura," Lotor said conversationally, taking his son and setting him back on the ground to play once more.
"Is there any place we can sit?" Romelle asked, pale.
"Is it true?" Jason demanded.
He didn't need Romelle to tell him. Her stricken face told him the truth. Cradling Alana in his arms, he followed Lotor and Romelle to a small hut. It was unassuming and unadorned, two characteristics that had never been attributed to the Doom Prince. But this Lotor, in his homespun clothes and unkempt hair, this was not the one he had grown up hearing stories about.
"What's happened to you?" Romelle asked suspiciously as they entered the rather sparse living quarters.
Lotor sat down at the small round kitchen table, gesturing for Romelle to take a seat. Jason laid Alana down on a bench nearby before taking one himself. Romelle did not seem to know what to do with herself and her hands twitched restlessly on her lap. Lotor was the picture of serenity, his yellow eyes placid as he looked at them.
"I have much to atone for, Romelle," he said. "When I left the battle that day...I could not go back to the life that I led. Then again, that life was destroyed with one stroke of Voltron's blade. I'd just learned that Allura and I came from the same mother and everything I believed in just didn't seem to matter anymore. The fact that my father lied to me about this..."
"Zarkon never struck me as an honest man," Romelle said.
"Oh I had taken plenty of abuse from him for my entire life, but this one, keeping family away from me, I could not swallow."
"So you found this backwater planet to start a new life?" Jason supplied.
"Not quite. I roamed the galaxy for a while and I almost joined Hazar's contingent of Drule soldiers, but I didn't fit with them any longer. My war mongering days were finished and theirs was not."
"They're done now," Jason said. "Vehicle Voltron disbanded Hazar's forces not long after Zarkon's defeat."
"All the better for you to have left," Romelle said icily.
"Indeed. Drule power has faded from this galaxy and the Alliance touches every corner no matter the distance...I would not have been welcome anywhere. I wandered for a long time before I found Trania and my remaining supporters--no one was more surprised than I that they existed. These people protected me and my identity from the rest of the population. They gave me a future, a home, and a family. I haven't looked back since."
"It doesn't seem right for you to have found peace."
"No, it doesn't. But I have and you're not going to take it away from me."
"I know from first hand experience that there are some things you cannot control."
The old foes glared at each other from opposite sides of the table and Jason was afraid that the situation would deteriorate to the point of exchanging laserfire if Romelle's temperament was any indication. He would never admit it, but Lotor was not going to hurt them first; Jason believed that he was the peaceful citizen that he portrayed himself to be. He could see it in the easy way with which Lotor moved and the simple happiness on his face when he held this son. Lotor was no longer the enemy whether or not Romelle wanted to acknowledge that.
Behind them, Alana stirred, but she paled immediately when she spotted Lotor. Jason started to stand to help her, but she put a hand up and stood on her own. Her eyebrows were knitted as she met Lotor's eyes, her expression thoughtful rather than suspicious. There must have been something on Lotor's face that was familiar to her because she approached him with no fear.
"Uncle," she said. "Is it true?"
"Yes," Romelle said. "Your mother did think it was relevant for you to know."
"It's relevant now," Alana said. "We need your help, Uncle."
Lotor was surprised that the Princess addressed him so easily. In her guileless way, Alana piqued his curiousity and the interest in his eyes made both Romelle and Jason nervous. Ignoring their silent warnings, Alana took the seat closest to Lotor and put a slender hand on his forearm.
"Why would the Lotorians take your name without you leading them?" she asked again. "You must know."
Lotor's brow furrowed. "Do you know who is leading them?"
"Since it's not you, no," Jason answered.
"I cannot give you any answers until I know who it is leading this charge."
"We're not going anywhere until we get those answers," Romelle said tersely.
"You're welcome to stay as long as you respect my wishes to keep my children from knowing my past."
"You can't run from it forever."
Lotor stared at them. "You're presence is more than enough evidence of that fact, Romelle."
