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Description
(more of Foxbear 's and my alternate Voltron universe. Inspired by the track "Storming New Caprica" by Bear McCreary from season 3 of Battlestar Galactica )

"Altean siege cruisers are already on the surface," Commander Sendak growled, "Haxus, what kind of firepower do they have down there?"

His second in command frowned and scanned the readouts of the planet Jarre. "Two mobile fortresses armed with rotating particle barriers and ion cannons."

"Ichor!" Sendak cursed, "They'll see us coming from orbit and blow us all to pieces!"
His batlike ears swiveled backwards, listening for any commands or comments his emperor might make.

Zarkon scowled darkly. "Contact the Druidsong and the Seventh Claw. Tell them to break off the attack. We'll send the Radiance and the Galleria's Revenge around to the far side of the planet to regroup and work out a way to take out those cannons."

"Fighter pilots could bring down the shields over them," Sendak suggested, "The mobile fortresses have to lower the strength of the barrier in order to fire."

"But sir, we have no way to get pilots close enough!" Haxus protested.

"I might have a way!" a more youthful voice interjected in a ship-to-ship comm.

Commander Sendak started visibly. "You?!" he spluttered, "What are you doing on the Druidsong?!"

"Ah." Emperor Zarkon raised a brow and lifted a hand to magnify the screen showing the battleship in question. "So that's where you disappeared to."
He leaned towards the screen. "Admittedly I am pleased to see you taking further interest in the Fleet, but do try to remember that the Druidsong is Commander Prorok's vessel. He is in command there." he said pointedly.

On the bridge of the Druidsong, Shiro's eyes darted to one side, where Commander Prorok still glared at him suspiciously. Prorok tolerated the Paladins on behalf of his emperor, but he did not welcome them. He'd been bemused by the human's presence on his ship, and left flustered and irate by his request to step in for the injured pilot.

"Yes, Father," Shiro gulped and shut down the comm, then shifted his eyes away from Prorok.

"Commander," Shiro kept his eyes front, carefully reviewing the data on the screens but making sure to sound appropriately humble. "I can get us close enough to the surface to deploy the fighters, but it's your call."

Prorok examined him closely and his eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" he growled. Still. The people of Jarre were their allies and they were vulnerable. Desperate times, desperate measures and all that. And so he reluctantly nodded his permission.

Shiro returned his nod respectfully, then opened a shipwide hail. "All hands," he said brusquely, "Brace for turbulence."

Prorok's eyes widened with fear and outrage as he realized what was about to happen. Shiro took hold of the controls and focused on the little flicker of Quintessence he was learning to sense in himself. He let it flow in a command from his mind, through his hands, and into the ship. A wormhole opened directly in front of the prow, and Shiro flew them through with ease, increasing speed rapidly.

"You're mad!" Prorok squawked, bracing himself against a control panel, "You'll destroy the ship and us along with it!"

Shiro ignored him. Sweat glistened on his forehead as they exited the wormhole with a sound like a thunderclap, screaming down through the upper atmosphere. The Druidsong hummed under its pilot's direction, banking sharply and dropping a few feet to avoid wild fire from the enemies. The craft shook as it passed through the mesosphere towards the stratosphere.

"Deploy the fighters!" Shiro shouted to Prorok, "I'll try to get us closer!"

"Closer?!" the rotund Galra asked in disbelief, "We're nearly in a nosedive as it is! A ship this size isn't meant to respond that quickly, boy this isn't Voltron!"

"I know what I'm doing," Shiro answered through gritted teeth. He guided the huge battleship down at high speed through the stratosphere and into the troposphere and commed the crew again.

"Battle stations, everyone!" He banked again to avoid a missile. "Get ready to fire when the surface is close. Pilots, to your fighters!"

Prorok watched in horror as the battleship tipped into a steep nosedive towards the rock and sand of Jarre's surface.

"What's going on over there?" the emperor demanded from the Radiance.
Prorok could not help himself.
"Your demon offspring is attempting to kill us all!" he all but squealed.

"No I'm not!" Shiro pitched his voice up to be heard across the comms. "Just trust me, I can do this!"

The 1400 meter ship plummeted through the atmosphere with its crew taking potshots at Altean siege cruisers. The fighters screamed past, chasing down targets. Sweating, Shiro poured all his concentration into the controls, opening a second wormhole below.
It flickered a moment, then held. Shiro was relieved: of all the Paladins, he was the worst at creating wormholes.

"Brace yourselves! Shields up!" He clutched the edges of the controls as the Druidsong tumbled through the portal seconds before lasers flew through the space it had once occupied.

The battleship popped back into realspace, guns at the ready and waiting on the flyers' word that the mobile bases were down. The shaking slowed, then stopped as the Druidsong settled into a glide, easing back into orbit. There was a stunned silence on the bridge for several minutes as the crew and captain attempted to comprehend what had just happened. Shiro caught Prorok staring at him and shrugged, embarrassed.

The Commander looked apoplectic, fur bristling and muscles tense. "You could have killed this entire crew, human!" he snapped.

Shiro's eyes darkened, but instead of responding to the complaint, he pointed to the screen. "One siege cruiser is down. The mobile bases are trying to repair the cannons. But it's not over yet."

"I daresay it isn't!" Prorok muttered. Shiro may have been one of the emperor's foundlings, but Prorok was not about to let some scrawny human put his ship and crew in danger.

Description
(more of Foxbear 's and my alternate Voltron universe. Inspired by the track "Storming New Caprica" by Bear McCreary from season 3 of Battlestar Galactica )

"Altean siege cruisers are already on the surface," Commander Sendak growled, "Haxus, what kind of firepower do they have down there?"

His second in command frowned and scanned the readouts of the planet Jarre. "Two mobile fortresses armed with rotating particle barriers and ion cannons."

"Ichor!" Sendak cursed, "They'll see us coming from orbit and blow us all to pieces!"
His batlike ears swiveled backwards, listening for any commands or comments his emperor might make.

Zarkon scowled darkly. "Contact the Druidsong and the Seventh Claw. Tell them to break off the attack. We'll send the Radiance and the Galleria's Revenge around to the far side of the planet to regroup and work out a way to take out those cannons."

"Fighter pilots could bring down the shields over them," Sendak suggested, "The mobile fortresses have to lower the strength of the barrier in order to fire."

"But sir, we have no way to get pilots close enough!" Haxus protested.

"I might have a way!" a more youthful voice interjected in a ship-to-ship comm.

Commander Sendak started visibly. "You?!" he spluttered, "What are you doing on the Druidsong?!"

"Ah." Emperor Zarkon raised a brow and lifted a hand to magnify the screen showing the battleship in question. "So that's where you disappeared to."
He leaned towards the screen. "Admittedly I am pleased to see you taking further interest in the Fleet, but do try to remember that the Druidsong is Commander Prorok's vessel. He is in command there." he said pointedly.

On the bridge of the Druidsong, Shiro's eyes darted to one side, where Commander Prorok still glared at him suspiciously. Prorok tolerated the Paladins on behalf of his emperor, but he did not welcome them. He'd been bemused by the human's presence on his ship, and left flustered and irate by his request to step in for the injured pilot.

"Yes, Father," Shiro gulped and shut down the comm, then shifted his eyes away from Prorok.

"Commander," Shiro kept his eyes front, carefully reviewing the data on the screens but making sure to sound appropriately humble. "I can get us close enough to the surface to deploy the fighters, but it's your call."

Prorok examined him closely and his eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" he growled. Still. The people of Jarre were their allies and they were vulnerable. Desperate times, desperate measures and all that. And so he reluctantly nodded his permission.

Shiro returned his nod respectfully, then opened a shipwide hail. "All hands," he said brusquely, "Brace for turbulence."

Prorok's eyes widened with fear and outrage as he realized what was about to happen. Shiro took hold of the controls and focused on the little flicker of Quintessence he was learning to sense in himself. He let it flow in a command from his mind, through his hands, and into the ship. A wormhole opened directly in front of the prow, and Shiro flew them through with ease, increasing speed rapidly.

"You're mad!" Prorok squawked, bracing himself against a control panel, "You'll destroy the ship and us along with it!"

Shiro ignored him. Sweat glistened on his forehead as they exited the wormhole with a sound like a thunderclap, screaming down through the upper atmosphere. The Druidsong hummed under its pilot's direction, banking sharply and dropping a few feet to avoid wild fire from the enemies. The craft shook as it passed through the mesosphere towards the stratosphere.

"Deploy the fighters!" Shiro shouted to Prorok, "I'll try to get us closer!"

"Closer?!" the rotund Galra asked in disbelief, "We're nearly in a nosedive as it is! A ship this size isn't meant to respond that quickly, boy this isn't Voltron!"

"I know what I'm doing," Shiro answered through gritted teeth. He guided the huge battleship down at high speed through the stratosphere and into the troposphere and commed the crew again.

"Battle stations, everyone!" He banked again to avoid a missile. "Get ready to fire when the surface is close. Pilots, to your fighters!"

Prorok watched in horror as the battleship tipped into a steep nosedive towards the rock and sand of Jarre's surface.

"What's going on over there?" the emperor demanded from the Radiance.
Prorok could not help himself.
"Your demon offspring is attempting to kill us all!" he all but squealed.

"No I'm not!" Shiro pitched his voice up to be heard across the comms. "Just trust me, I can do this!"

The 1400 meter ship plummeted through the atmosphere with its crew taking potshots at Altean siege cruisers. The fighters screamed past, chasing down targets. Sweating, Shiro poured all his concentration into the controls, opening a second wormhole below.
It flickered a moment, then held. Shiro was relieved: of all the Paladins, he was the worst at creating wormholes.

"Brace yourselves! Shields up!" He clutched the edges of the controls as the Druidsong tumbled through the portal seconds before lasers flew through the space it had once occupied.

The battleship popped back into realspace, guns at the ready and waiting on the flyers' word that the mobile bases were down. The shaking slowed, then stopped as the Druidsong settled into a glide, easing back into orbit. There was a stunned silence on the bridge for several minutes as the crew and captain attempted to comprehend what had just happened. Shiro caught Prorok staring at him and shrugged, embarrassed.

The Commander looked apoplectic, fur bristling and muscles tense. "You could have killed this entire crew, human!" he snapped.

Shiro's eyes darkened, but instead of responding to the complaint, he pointed to the screen. "One siege cruiser is down. The mobile bases are trying to repair the cannons. But it's not over yet."

"I daresay it isn't!" Prorok muttered. Shiro may have been one of the emperor's foundlings, but Prorok was not about to let some scrawny human put his ship and crew in danger.