Chapter Three

Cheddar curled up against Allura's warmth and wished fervently that he was big enough to give back some warmth in return. The air in the room had dropped considerably and he could see his breath coming out in cloudy white puffs. The Princess was beginning to shiver and was curled up as tightly as she could. She had zipped up her jumpsuit as high as it would go and her arms had disappeared from the sleeves to inside the suit. She wished fervently that she had worn a turtleneck instead of a shortsleeved shirt. Her long hair was down, keeping her neck warm.

"W-w-what d-d-o you t-think t-they're t-t-trying t-to do?" she asked. "B-bastards."

Above the room, behind a holographic wall that was, in reality, a window, Niloc stood with his arms crossed. He watched the freezing Princess beneath and was surprised she had not yet broken. Eight hours of being imprisoned with no word from the outside, and now these varying degrees of torture, but she did nothing but pace and occassionally spout an angry soliloquy. But she was still sane and it didn't look as if that would change any time soon.

"Keith would be proud," he said, venom in his tone. He turned on his communicator. "Keep the temperature steady for another half hour. Then raise it ten degrees every ten minutes. Call me when she starts taking clothes off."

Allura hurriedly pinned her hair back up and tried not to wheeze. The room had become unbearably hot and she was having trouble breathing. Sweat poured out from every pore in her body and her jumpsuit was getting damp by the minute. She had lowered the zipper as far down as it would go, grateful she had a shirt on underneath. Cheddar was sitting next to her, his tiny pink tongue hanging out. At first they had been grateful that the temperature had went back up to normal, but soon realized that it was getting hotter. Too hot for comfort.

"This has got to be the most creative form of torture I've ever heard of," she told him. "Don't you wish you had less fur?"

Cheddar nodded. Allura felt her cheeks reddening and kicked off her socks along with her boots. She frantically began to roll her pantlegs up as well as her sleeves. She stretched out on her back and raised her arms in the air to let as much air as possible circulate through her body. But soon enough, it was getting so hot that her skin began to hurt. She gritted her teeth and fought the urge to scream at the top of her lungs. Without another thought, she jumped up and shimmied out of her jumpsuit. She was through with feeling bashful and was now only thinking about surviving. So clad only in her white undershirt and underwear, she defiantly raised her nose in the air and sat back down.

Just stay calm. , she told herself. See this through. When he's tired of it, he'll let me out. And then...I'll get him.

A few more minutes passed. Cheddar was beginning to look sick and Allura could barely breathe. Her lungs couldn't take in the hot air. She had lasted as long as a human possibly could under those conditions. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Above them, Niloc had returned at the summons of the soldier watching Allura. He smiled slowly at the sight of the jumpsuit rumpled on the ground. The Princess' slender legs seemed to go on forever and he was enjoying the view.

"Lower the temperature back down," he told the soldier. "Same as before. Drop ten degrees every ten minutes. After we're through and her friends see her again, they won't be happy."

Keith stepped through the lift doors. He entered the repair bay where hundreds of fighters were scattered across the huge floor, people climbing on them, running around under them, and sparks flew everywhere. The smell of smoke filled the air and he coughed slightly.

"Keith," Hunk called. "What are you doing down here? Is it Pidge..."

"No," Keith said before Hunk could say anything more. "I just wanted to see how things were going."

"Oh," Hunk said, looking relieved. "Well, we've got a quarter of the fighters up to working order. Not as good as new, since we're doing this as fast as we possibly can, but good enough to fly. Some weren't as badly damaged as the others and they're first in line when you want to deploy them. As for the warships, they're a little harder to patch together and they take longer. Warship Realto is a little more beat up than the others and I don't think we'll be able to use it right away."

"What about that enemy ship we picked up? Were you able to repair it?"

"Yes," Hunk said proudly. "I had my top men on it. You can't even tell that it had been damaged. I hope we can fool Niloc with it."

"We will. How about the fighters that were left behind here?" Keith asked. "Are any salvageable?"

Hunk shook his head. "No. Not a single one."

"That's two squadrons," Keith said. "Not to mention the loss of manpower is going to hurt us."

"They were people, Keith," Hunk bristled. "Be a little more sensitive."

"There'll be time for that," Keith assured Hunk, patting him on the back to take the edge off the words.

Hunk stared at Keith for a moment, then shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "I know. Well, that's all I can tell you for now. If Niloc attacks us now with what he had before, we'll be caught flatfooted. But if you give me another four or five hours, we can put up a good fight."

"You'll have it," Keith said. "Thanks, Hunk."

"No problem."

Keith returned to the lift and went back up to Castle Control. His forehead was knotted as he entered and he headed straight for the command console where Lance still sat. He could see his friend's head lolling forward. He gently shook Lance who woke with a start despite Keith's careful touch. He blinked but the exhaustion didn't disappear from his face, which looked thinner and more drawn now that Keith took a closer look at it.

"Sorry about that," Lance said, clearing his throat and trying to look busy as he went over readings. "Got bored."

"Go get a few winks," Keith urged him. "I think I can man the fort while you're gone."

Lance opened his mouth to say something but instead a yawn came out. Keith clapped him on the back.

"My point exactly."

"I'm just afraid you'll do to me what I did to you."

"Don't worry. The last thing I want to do is let you get enough sleep."

Lance nodded and left. Keith sat before the console, but didn't stay seated for long. He began to pace the room, much to the dismay of the soldiers working there since he had a way of pausing and looking over their shoulders to see what they were up to. It was disconcerting to say the least. But to their surprise, he didn't do it. A serious, almost upset, expression on his face, he merely walked around the room, winding his mind around his thoughts.

Allura's body heaved as she retched. Both hands were splayed on the ground and she was on her knees as the contents of her stomach was deposited on the now freezing metal floor. She coughed and blinked the tears from her eyes. She spat on the floor and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Cheddar perched on her back, holding his nose with one paw, while rubbing the back of her neck with the other. Moving very slowly, as to not make her head swim anymore than it was, Allura managed to make it to the other side of the room, and leaned up against the wall. She covered her face with her hands and fought to stop the room from spinning.

"If they keep this up, I'll run out of things to throw up," she told the little blue mouse weakly.

Cheddar scrambled to her shoulder and pressed up against her cheek, his arms open wide. She tilted her head slightly and found some comfort in the feel of a warm body, no matter how tiny, nearby. The room's temperature was dropping steadily after it had risen and fallen too many times for her to count. She could barely tell how long she'd been in the room. She could barely sit up. Her cheeks were flushed as her fever rose, but she shivered uncontrollably whether it was hot or cold.

"Let me out of here!" she yelled hoarsely, her eyes snapping with electricity. "I'm tired of playing your games...LET ME OUT!"

Allura closed her eyes and struggled to keep her tears in. Never had she felt so hopeless. Even when she was underground, she wasn't alone in her plight and she took comfort in that. But alone, with a mouse as her only companion, she felt the loneliness that drove most people to madness. The need for a human touch was overwhelming and only amplified when she grew sicker.

Yet, she was the Princess of Arus. She represented her people and she would not show weakness to the animals that were playing with her life. Even after nearly twelve hours of torture, she could still think of her pride. Feeling a surge of strength, she looked up, not knowing where else to look, and sent a defiant glare to whoever was watching.

And then the door opened.

She turned and her eyes widened when she saw a face that she never thought could bear an expression such as the one she saw. It was full of hatred and darkness. She could feel bile rising in her throat and before she could stop it, she vomited all over her visitor's shoes.

"We have to make our move," Keith said. "It's been too long and we haven't heard a thing."

"What if..." Romelle began.

"None auf dat," Sven said. "De Princess iz alright."

"Niloc wants something," Keith said. "She's alive, I can assure you of that."

"Her being well is a whole other matter," Coran said, steepling his fingers. "We should have moved earlier."

"We had to get the fighters and cannons ready," Lance said. "We're ready now."

Keith looked at them. "He can throw anything at us and we can throw it right back."

"What if he kills Allura while we're attacking?" Gwen asked.

"We're going to do this the same way we did Pollux except we'll have an even better disguise. Lance and I will board the flagship using the entry codes Hunk managed to lift from the enemy fighter's computer while the other enemy vessels are out fighting. Lance will distract the deck hands while I go off into the ship to get Allura."

"Did you managed to get the codes in full?" Gwen asked Hunk.

"They were whole when we downloaded them," Hunk said.

Sven nodded. "De plan sounds good. But I haf one problem wid eet."

"What's that?" Keith asked.

"You going along. I don't tink eet iz a goot idea."

Keith blinked, but didn't look angry, though his expression tightened briefly. "You know as well as I do that I am the most qualified to do missions like this. We talked about this already during the situation with Pollux."

"I tink dat you haf too many tings on your mind right now and dat you vill not be able to function normally for dis mission."

"Does anyone else feel this way?" Keith asked, looking at each and every one of them. "I want to hear what you think."

The others exchanged unsettled glances. Hunk cleared his throat and stood.

"I think you've been put under too much strain lately," he said apologetically. "I'm afraid that you might do something that may jeopardize all your lives because you couldn't think straight."

Keith crossed his arms. "When we went after Sven, Lance and I went. Sven was our best friend, and we had both been under emotional distress because we thought he was dead. But when we learned he was alive, we went to get him back. We were both anxious, I might add, but our mission was successful. I don't want to have to pull out my service record to prove myself to you. I can do this job and I can do it right."

"I'm with Hunk, Keith," Romelle said. "You might have overdone it this time. I think that our lack of a viewscreen in this room is evidence of that. You are only human after all."

"Then who do you suggest should go, Romelle?" he challenged.

"Sven and Lance should go," she said. "You stay here to man the fort."

Keith nodded. "I see. Here's what we'll do. I'll leave the room and you discuss what should be done. It is apparent to me now that my ability to do the job is questionable. I will be out in Castle Control when you've reached your decision."

He left the room without another word. Lance sighed.

"As much as I hate to admit it, I think you guys are right," he said. "So, how are we doing to do this?"

Keith couldn't believe that they would doubt him. He felt his resolve to stay emotionless cracking as he the first stirrings of anger strengthened within him. His hands began to shake as he moved to cover his face with them, his elbows propped on the command console. He breathed in and out, trying to slow his racing heart. They were right, of course. He was in no condition to lead any kind of mission. He was far from his usual standard. And it was all because of one man.

Why did he have to come back now? Keith thought desperately. I had forgotten about him for so long and I thought that was all behind me, but even now just the sound of his name...

His head snapped up when the console beeped to indicate a communication coming through. His face darkened when he saw where it was coming from. He was about to call the occupants of the conference room into Castle Control, but they came out just then, their faces somber.

"We have a communication from Niloc," Keith said.

He patched it through and the face of a man appeared on the viewscreen. There were gasps all over the room and heads moved back and forth between the viewscreen and the man sitting behind the command console. It was as if they were cut from the same mold. The man on the viewscreen was a perfect copy of Keith, aged somewhat, but Keith nevertheless. Keith's lips thinned as Niloc's curled into a smile.

"Hello, son," Niloc said.

"Hello....Father."