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The End is the Beginning is the End-The Smashing Pumpkins

Take a Bow-Muse

Chapter 1

Red Sand. Endless. Miles and miles of Red. That's all his yellow eyes saw as his ship entered the planet's atmosphere. My home. What have they done? A once prosperous, powerful and potent planet, leader of the galaxy, turned into a vast desolate plain of nothingness. How he hated them. How he him.

"Sire, they are trying to make contact with us and they've deployed their ships to attack," his soldier stated as he walked up to him. "Would you like to answer them now?"

Turning around, he looked at his soldier and offered a small smile, "If you please, Lieutenant."

"Sire," he nodded as he turned to the controls.

Within moments, he heard his lieutenant speak.

XXXXXXXXXX

As the doors of the command center opened, the seven men manning controls stared at the tall lanky, but strong presence of one General Aaron Stoller. He had served as their commander and chief for the past peaceful three years they had been stationed at Korrinth. Normally, his features offered a mixture of firmness and at times, gentleness. At the moment, however, that look changed into one of a soldier ready for battle. A look of determination and readiness to engage was evident on his face.

With a tone that almost sounded like a growl, Stoller asked, "Matthews, have you received a response from the ship?"

"Negative, General," the young man answered as he turned around to face his commanding officer. "I've tried three times, but received no response."

"Have the drones been sent out?'

"Yes," Mathews nodded. "But we haven't been able to recognize the ship. It doesn't seem to belong to any of the allied or enemy ships in our galaxy."

Stoller looked perplexed, "What do you mean?"

"If I may General," a young woman officer walked up to the pair. With short black hair, brown eyes and a petite frame, she looked like a midget standing between two towers. However, her stature (or lack thereof) didn't prevent her from gaining not only the attention of the pair staring at her, but their respect. "I've ran scans of the ship and compared them to the data banks of ships belonging to all planets surrounding Korrinth. None match any of the vessels cataloged in the system."

"Did you compare it to the master directory of the Garrison, Daniels?"

"Affirmative, General," the woman replied, "No matches."

Looking even more confused and slightly worried now, the General looked at the screen ahead of him, "Let's find out who or what they are. Open connections once again Mathews."

"Yes, General," the man answered as he went back to control and opened the lines of communication once more, "Everything is ready when you are General."

Following suit, General Stoller walked over to console, "This is General Aaron Stoller of the Galaxy Garrison. You have not been granted access to enter Korrinth. State the purpose of your presence."

The line was quiet for what seemed a long time. Stoller thought at first that whoever was on that ship wanted to speak to the commanding officer, him. But the lack of response told him that those on what he considered to be the enemy ship thought nothing more of him.

"Send five more of our ships and surround them," Stoller suddenly ordered.

"Yes, General," Mathews answered as he dove into another area of the console and began typing the codes while sending orders to deploy five of their ships to surround the foreign ship that had entered Korrinth airspace.

Stoller, wasn't prepared to surrender to the silence. With a firmer tone, he began again, "This is General Aaron Stoller of the Galaxy Garrison. You have entered a Galaxy Garrison site without authorization. You are now surrounded by our ships and we will have no choice but to attack if you don't state the reason for your entrance to this planet."

"All ships deployed and heading to the position," Mathews answered as the General finished speaking.

After a few seconds of silence, the General finally heard a voice, "This is commander Vargo, aid to his Highness Prince Lotor of Korrinth. His Highness would like an audience with highest ranking official of the Garrison."

Everyone in the room was stunned to hear Vargo's words.

"Who is Lotor?" one man asked.

"What is the meaning of this?" Stoller barked out. "Korrinth has been under the command of Galaxy Garrison. There is no royal house of Korrinth. There hasn't been one for years. Zarkon never had a son named Lotor?"

"Unfortunately, you've been misinformed, General Stoller," the voice answered him with an eerie calmness that both irritated and frightened him. "There is one truth you've spoken, though. Galaxy Garrison has had command of Korrinth for over twenty years, until today."

The entire room looked at the General just as the view screen popped out a visual. The General's eyes widened with surprise, "This…this is impossible!" The rest of the crew also stared in surprise at the Drule on the view screen.

Smiling the Drule man looked back at General Stoller and with a calm, but deadly glare, "I came back to reclaim my planet, General. I've come back to destroy all of you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He walked through the wet concrete pavements of a bleak alley in the southern end of Almeria Boulevard, one of Arus' poorest areas. He could not fathom why the man he spoke to days earlier demanded to meet him at this location. It's not like he's a damn criminal in hiding, he thought as he suddenly found himself stepping on a large puddle of water and dirtying a perfectly clean pair of designer boots that had been shined hours earlier. Damn him! He shook his head in frustration. It's hard enough seeing the bastard again. Now, I've dirtied a fine pair of boots as well.

The rain, unimaginably relentless, pounded the ground with passion. Large clear drops of rain, the size of nickels, fell in consistent rhythm around him. Far from a typical small raindrop, once the large clear droplets made contact with the hard ground, they broke apart like a colossal mini bomb. This man hated the rain.

Relief overcame him as he walked toward a building with a large metal awning capable of protecting him from the cold continuous rain proclaiming war around him. Once under shelter, the man searched the inner pockets of his jacket, found the data pad he looked for, and checked the email that stated the meeting locale.

"This is it, alright," he spoke out loud looking over his surroundings. He ran his hand alongside his hip, feeling his blaster in its holster. He unlocked the safety. The man sighed and ran his hands through his damp hair after taking off his hat. The now drenched accessory protected him as best it could. But, sadly, it had lost the battle with the rain. Too wet to even wear, he shook off the excess water. The material, made out of suede, would leave stains after it dried. Sighing, he knew the hat lost any hope of ever being used again. He tossed it to a corner of the alley. He wondered why he had chosen this particular hat on a day filled with rain. He must not have been thinking; these days he had no time for the insignificant aspects of his life.

Cold, he continued to look around once more only to find himself alone. "Honestly, could you have made it any harder Keith?" he remarked sarcastically amidst the harsh sounds of the rain hitting the awnings.

"I could have," a voice answered him. "But you seemed eager to meet with me. I'm sure you wouldn't mind doing it on my terms."

The man turned around to see a ghost of his past. Keith had not been present in his life for years, but he recognized the voice of the captain immediately.

Kogane wore attire that would later camouflage him with the impending entry of the night. A long black jacket covered his body. Midnight hair cascaded past his shoulders. His attire seemed almost completely dry as if the rain were afraid to touch him. Walking toward the man under the awning, he showed no emotion under his gaze, most of which hid beneath a hat he wore.

"Nice meeting place," the man across from Keith commented sarcastically. "Who knows, maybe after our meeting, we can pick a fight with one of the neighborhood gangs."

The captain nodded ignoring the meaning of the tone, "The entrance's through here," guiding his companion through a steel door, steps from where they previously stood.

Once inside, the man met the dim lighting and smoke of the establishment as they made their way in. A hazy vision of his surroundings prevented him from knowing where he headed. Keith, on the other hand, had no trouble with the area. He walked toward the darkest part of the establishment. The man followed the captain as a melancholy piano tune played in the background.

Walking through, the man noticed people sitting around barstools; others took solace in the concrete tables that sat throughout the room. A real dump. But at least dry, he sighed, resigned with the bleakness around him. He also noticed something peculiar, as they walked through. The people, drinking their misery away, lowered their heads, avoiding any visual contact with Keith. As if they sin by looking at him...interesting.

"This will do," Keith told him taking one of the tables at the farther end of the bar. The man sat across from the captain, took off his jacket and placed it behind his chair. Keith did the same before taking his seat and resting his back to the wall behind him. Underneath the jacket, the man wore his uniform, filled with medals of honors clinging on the breast pockets. Keith glanced at them, wondering for a moment how many he would have earned. The waitress arrived and he looked up.

"What'll you have?" the brunette with the blue eyes asked.

"Everclear," Keith ordered and then looked at her. "Don't bring that crap you brought last time, I can tell the difference," he firmly ordered. Her eyes locked in to his black emotionless one. She nodded uneasily and left them.

"I don't remember you being a heavy drinker," the man across acknowledged as he settled himself on the chair, not caring that he hadn't been asked what to order.

"I'm not the same man from twenty-two years ago," Keith answered coldly starring back at him.

With a smirk that appeared on his face the man answered, "Part of me hopes you still are." He paused for a moment looking intently at Keith who seemed to keep his anger in check. "Circumstances have forced me us to meet."

The small lamp on the table lit up spontaneously, illuminating their dark area. Keith smoothly pulled himself back on his chair, hiding into the limited darkness he obviously felt comfortable in. Despite that, the man saw the captain's face a bit better than before. The man tilted his head in question at Keith's action.

"Too many enemies in this place," The captain offered a ghost of smile, ignoring the last statement he heard. "I rather make myself inconspicuous."

"Typical Keith. Never any peace with you, is there?" The man shook his head before sighing, "So why choose this place?"

"Best drinks in the city." He answered indifferently. The waitress came back with two small glasses filled with a clear liquid and handed a glass to each one. "Leave the bottle." Keith ordered calmly. She placed the tall clear container with the gold top on the table and scooted away without so much as looking at either one of the men she served.

The man noticed her unnatural discomfort around them. Why? He asked himself. Instead of inquiring, he ignored the observation, turned his sights toward Keith who had already picked up his glass and asked, "You come here often Keith?"

"What is it that you want Coran?" Keith asked after practically swallowing the content in the glass. Cold onyx eyes glared back at the older man as he poured himself another glass of the strong spirit.

The advisor knew better than to squander the former captain's time. Besides, the motives for the visit were anything but social. Without so much as a sigh of hesitation he briefed him on the preliminary information, "We have reason to believe that Zarkon's son is reorganizing his father's army."

Keith shook his head, "Impossible. Zolon's dead. I killed him myself after we destroyed everything and everyone Zarkon had. You know that."

"Not…everyone." Coran corrected him. The older man paused for a bit before continuing, "Zarkon had another son."

Keith's face, as Coran remembered, registered no emotion. He did, however, notice a small spark enter the captain's eyes; a spark that only came when interest crest him.

"How long have you known?" Keith asked as he picked up his glass, filled it once again before downing the content in it. The sudden anxiety he felt left him wanting more. Picking up the bottle he poured the clear liquid into the empty glass and swallowed the contents almost immediately.

"Three years. We've tried locating his whereabouts, but attempts by the Arusian Corps and Galaxy Garrison failed." he answered solemnly.

Keith maintained his silence and listened intently at Coran's tale. The melody the piano played no longer felt melancholy, but rather eerie with a soft touch of sadism that foretold of impeding perils soon entering many lives.

"Zarkon knew his time would soon come to a close. Voltron had gained ground on his allied planets and although it took time, all of you slowly diminished his army and power. The king also knew his legacy would end with Zolon's death, which he felt was inevitable along with his. This awareness of things to come led to him fathering another child who would take on the reign after their deaths. The bastard would not allow his legacy to end or the Drule Empire to die along with him."

Keith sighed. With frustration pricking him, his tone rose a bit, "I remember conducting a thorough search of the castle. I found no child." A sudden realization came in to his mind, Damn. He shook his head recognizing it. Then, another thought entered his mind, he chose to duck that one away, for the moment. "Let me guess...Haggar took the child?"

"We believe so," Coran nodded. "She's hid him all these years, along with herself. As you know, after we took over Doom, she disappeared. All our efforts to find her have been in vain."

"I know. I've tried finding her myself, but the witch has created a huge smokescreen for herself."

Coran's brows narrowed, "You've been searching for her?"

"My business with her has not finished," Keith replied without offering another word.

"What would be the point?" Coran asked.

"That's my business, not yours. Get to your point. Why do you suddenly need me?"

The advisor nodded, "Five days ago, the prodigal son came out of hiding. He struck the Galaxy Garrison base located at Korrinth and took over the planet."

This single statement had enough impact to direct Keith's gaze even deeper toward his former advisor. "How many fighters?"

"Over two hundred. The base literally didn't know what hit them. And I don't mean this as a cliché either," Coran snorted.

"Surprise attack?"

"In a way," Coran nodded. "An unidentified ship entered the planet. Korrinth has been peaceful for twenty years, they could have never predicted an attack. And we never believed that Zarkon's son would attack us directly."

Keith swore, "How many survivors?"

"None human. He completely annihilated them. At least, those who were military. We think that human civilians on Korrinth have gone underground, but we are still trying to confirm that information."

To Keith, the temperature in the room rose to exasperating levels. "It's impossible that Garrison Intelligence missed any incoming threats that large, especially if it knew Zarkon had another son lurking around."

"They are still investigating that slip. Intelligence has no idea how that happened," Coran sighed. "Keith, we didn't know the power this Drule gained until this first attack to the Garrison base. In just a few short days, he's taken over Doom, the Drules have retaliated against Garrison officers at satellite bases around the planet and we've lost all communication with every one of our people. Reports state that the planet has sided with their new crowned Prince."

Keith muttered an expletive Coran could not make out, but then heard him speak, "I take it you're calling me back in?"

"I need you back at base in three days." Coran confirmed his words. "I'm reactivating the entire team. I need you to take command."

At this, Keith let out a sarcastic laugh, "It's been twenty-two years Coran. I don't see how we can work together...why don't you make Lance the captain? It's a perfect opportunity for the Garrison to get back into the graces of the people of Earth. Besides, Garrison's Fly Boy would sure lift up moral with the troopers. And, he's a better marketing gimmick than me." Keith began to shake his head laughing. "I think I can manage to listen to him—"

Coran cut him, "you and me both know that Lance is too reckless and too stubborn to lead. Despite it all, the team still needs organization and strategy. You possess both." His voice firm and strong, "You all took the oath. Besides, what happened in the past, is what it is...the past. You made amends; served your time."

"You think organization and strategy is the only thing this team needs?" Keith snorted. "You've soften with time old man. We need a damn miracle of monstrous proportions!"

"You shouldn't underestimate you or them," Coran acknowledged.

Staring at the older man intently, Keith then asked, "Have you forgiven me?"

The advisor hesitated before answering, "I've made amends with what happened. I'm sure they have too."

The captain smiled sadly, "I had forgotten what a damn good diplomat you are."

"I think it is best we don't relive the past," Coran stated trying to control his rising temper. "It's for the best to keep the memories of those days buried."

"So you don't want to remember that I'm the damn reason Sven is nothing but ashes right now," he poured himself another glass and swallowed it whole before leaning forward into the light.

Coran startled by the harsh words, but more so by the sight of Keith who had finally showed himself within the illuminated areas of the table. He shouldn't have been surprised. Miracles, blessings…these were part of the oath.

"Take a good long hard look at me, old man." Keith continued with a sarcastic smile, "Three days from now, you'll be working with a murderer."

Coran saw that Keith looked like damnation from the heavens above. His skin flawless and sheen, not a wrinkle, not a crease decorated any part of a face laced with beauty. For as long as Black Lion's spirit lived within him, Keith, just like the others, kept his youth. He hadn't aged in twenty years.

He should look the forty two years of age that belonged to him, but Keith did not look any older than when Coran met him twenty-two years prior. Except for the longer hair, his youthful face glowed in the dim light. The eyes, however, looked wiser; probably the only true testament of his age.

It's still mesmerizes me…the lions' powers. Not a hint of time passed through Keith. Coran now felt older than his sixty three years. This shock, however, did not make him divert from the reason he came to see the fallen man.

"Keith…mistakes happen. Perfection is not part of the oath. I know your relationship with them is not perfect, but you will all adjust. Maybe time will allow them to show you some forgiveness for what you did."

"You believe that?"

"I'd like to think so," the advisor told him.

"You haven't," Keith countered as he played with his empty glass.

Coran took a moment to answer, "No, I haven't." He paused after he answered, "But, I'm here because I made an oath that is stronger than my personal feelings for you. That oath involves protecting Arus. If it means working with you again, so be it." He thought he had seen a tinge of sadness in the captain's features, but Coran dismissed it almost immediately. Keith never showed his emotions either way, "You paid your dues to society. Besides, I don't have to like you. Just work with you."

Keith let out a breath of disbelief, "Coran, I spent seven years in a Garrison prison and another three in an Arusian camp for my sole crime. Forgive me for not wanting to come back to that part of my life. I've been trying to live in the present, trying to forget…now you want me to relive it all over again." Keith spat out with a venomous tone. "They don't want to see me and I don't want to see them either."

Coran sighed, this is not helping, he thought. Aggravating him further will not help me bring him back. "Keith, I realize, it will take time for all of you to accustom yourselves to one another. But, I wouldn't ask any of you back if I truly didn't need you."

"Does she know?" Keith cut him off.

"Not yet," Coran answered shaking his head. "She's at survival training with her recruits and will be back in two days." He paused for a moment before continuing, "I'm willing to work with you and you'll have my support while this mission is active. I'm sure she'll—"

Before he knew it, the captain stood up, ignoring what Coran would tell him next. Maybe purposely avoiding it. Either way, he threw some money on the table; more than enough for the bottle and a generous tip.

Ceasing to give the captain any more advice, the advisor just replied, "I'll see you in three days."

About to leave, Keith stopped short before he looked at Coran, "What's the bastard's name?"

"He calls himself, Lotor, Crowned Prince of Doom."

Keith laughed, "Figures. Bet he's more arrogant than his brother or father ever were."

With that, the captain walked away as silently as he walked in.

Moments later, the waitress appeared. Coran continued nursing his drink alone, not ingesting nearly as much as his former companion. The potent drink made holes in his stomach.

"You can take the bottle if you wish, he paid everything in full." She offered as she picked up the money lying on the table.

Coran looked up at the young girl, "You're afraid of him."

"I respect him."

"Why?"

"You kidding me?" She tilted her head in disbelief, "You've never been in here old man, have you?"

Coran shook his head, now really interested in knowing why the woman felt such apprehension for the captain, but also a sense of respect. She didn't fail him, "If you did, you'd know the garbage that barges into this dump. A few months ago, one of these scum balls pinned me to a wall right by the hallway of the bathroom. Bastard would have had his way if your friend hadn't intervened."

"He stopped him?"

"He killed him."

Coran's eyes widened, "He what?"

The woman smiled sardonically, "You're misunderstanding man. He didn't literally kill him, but he crushed his balls so hard, man would have wished he'd been killed."

Coran breathed a sigh of relief, "Then I guess he saved you. But it still doesn't answer my question, why are you afraid of him…or rather respect him as you previously corrected?"

Now the girl sighed and lowered her head, "He's angry with me."

"Why?"

"After my rescue, he told me to stop working here. Told me that I didn't belong with this filth…that I belonged somewhere…decent."

The advisor gave her a melancholy smile, "But you didn't."

The girl shook her head, resigned, "I can't leave yet. Not because I don't want to. But…I don't think it's fair that I leave this place while he stays behind."

"I don't think I know what you mean?" Coran, now confused by her statement asked her.

The girl looked at him with surprise, "What he doesn't realize is that, he doesn't belong here, either. He's too good for this place. Yet, he comes every night and drinks this crap," she told him, picking up the bottle of Everclear and corking it shut. "Whatever he did or didn't do is eating him alive." She cleaned up the table and picked up the glasses.

Pondering for a bit, Coran then asked her, "If he comes in every night, why did he demand you give him the 'real' thing? He told you he could tell the difference?" He finished as he tried to remember Keith's words.

"Oh," she laughed, "I hate when he drinks this stuff. He used to consume the entire bottle every night. A few weeks ago, I switched it on him. Something lighter, I thought. You know, this abomination of a drink can really make you sick after a while." She shook her head, "He knew the difference immediately. Anyways, I think he knew what I was trying to do, so now he'll only order it once a week and never goes past half the bottle. After he's done, I give whatever is left over away to one of the jerks around this dump. I hope they drown themselves in it and die. A girl can always wish." She finished with a smile.

Coran laughed.

"So you want the bottle?" she mocked.

He shook his head, "No, go on your quest and find your jerk."

She nodded a tinge of a humor smile on her face and looked at the advisor, "You seem like a good guy. Take care of him, he needs someone."

Coran nodded uneasily, "I will…"

"I'll continue to work here, until he doesn't come back. Then, I'll leave…to a much decent place," she turned around and left.

Coran sat for a while before he left. Even while on inactive duty Keith still tried to save the world. "His hero complex…or maybe his guilt," Coran muttered to himself. He wondered how many other lives he'd saved to make up for the one he ended.