Stardust (A Voltron Fanfic)

The "Gift" of Becoming a Weapon

Word Count: 1,154

I lost track of the time. Being strapped to an operating table in the middle of space tended to do that to you.

I had run out of things to do long before now. I had counted all of the cracks in the ceiling (Ten. I mean, come on, it's a metal ship), I counted the scientists that I could currently see (Seven. No, wait a second, make that eight), and I counted currently how many limbs I had for the time being (count that yourself).

I.

Was.

Currently losing it. I wondered if they would write that on my body bag after I died.

I looked back down from staring at the ceiling as the clanking of metal suddenly reached my ears. The table I was on was situated so I could almost clearly see the doorway of the room I was in and the doorway leading to the hall in front of me. And what I saw being wheeled in made me blink, twice.

They were wings. Massive, sleek, metal wings.

Whoever had designed them must have been a genius saying the least, small metal plates, molded to look exactly like feathers lined the surface gleaming brightly in the artificial light. The metal holding them looked extremely complex, looking like they had merely cut off an avaian's wings, spray-painted them a shining silver, and just brought them in for me to see.

For a moment, I forgot to be bored with myself; my eyes were widened in awe, but I became pissed again when I saw who else followed the shining contraptions into the room.

Commander hothead was back.

He stopped at the side of the table glaring at me; I glared back, equal defiance in my eyes. I really wanted to rip his throat out with a machete, cut him up with a chainsaw, and shoot him out into space in a plastic baggie. Was that too much to ask?

If it was even possible I noticed his yellow eyes suddenly softened the tiniest bit around the edges; he turned to where the metallic wings were being loaded off the cart and onto a large metal contraption, I noted the things looked kinda heavy.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" He said, gesturing to them, he suddenly looked really relaxed. In a weird, evil scientist kind of way.

I could honestly care less about what he thought about the things, I was beginning to get bored with it all again and since I wasn't getting anywhere with glaring at the guy, I went to studying the metal wing, things again. But, my thoughts swirled for a moment, something suddenly clicked in my sluggish mind; something told me those weren't just for decoration.

I began to struggle against my restraints harder than before, turning back to trying to stare holes into the commander's forehead, I screamed every curse word I knew at the top of my lungs at the guy, but all that came out were muffled "mrf's" that sounded more like a dying cow than anything else.

The commander placed his surprisingly cold, purple hand on my arm that made my skin crawl just at his touch; I squirmed even more, trying to escape his hand.

"You will become our new little weapon," he grinned, showing off pointed teeth, "and I will use you to bring Voltron to its knees." As quick as the weirdness began, it stopped. He took his hand off of me to my great relief and started to wander the room, hands back to being behind him, overseeing the bustling scientists in their work which seemed to be running around almost at light speed now.

So it really was true, Voltron wasn't a myth, it was real. I couldn't help but begin to imagine. New ideas for escape swirled through my mind, but all of that suddenly came to a screaming halt as I suddenly saw a shadow came up behind me and I looked up just in time to see a hand reach toward me and remove the gag that had been lodged firmly in my mouth for, I had no clue how long. I spat at the person as soon as it was removed, trying to regain moisture into my mouth again, a little more than glad that that I could speak again.

But that was short lived, because as fast as the gag was removed, a damp rag was placed over my mouth and nose, tight.

I fought against the hands that were trying to force me to breathe in, my thoughts were screaming to escape this nightmare, to wake up safe and sound in a cell before all of this chaos even started. Or, better yet, back on Earth, I'd take living in a dumpster over what they were trying to do to me now.

But this wasn't a dream, I thought to myself, seeing black spots staring to overtake my vision I finally to forced myself to inhale, bringing stale air to my screaming lungs.

Almost as soon as I exhaled the world became fuzzy and I blinked slowly. Blotches of color moving in and out of focus began filling my sight and I tried to shake my head to clear it, only to remember that I was still strapped down to an operating table.

I felt hands grab ahold of my arms and I weakly tried to defend myself as they tightened their hold on me. What was this stuff? What were they doing again?

My brain was finally able to process that the restraints were no longer holding me down, and I looked up to see a bright light being shined into my eyes. "The hybrid is ready for the operation sir."

"Excellent."

My world was suddenly spinning and I felt myself being forced, face-first onto the operating table again. I felt the cold blade of a knife cut into the back of my clothing, and I could barely hear the sound of the fabric ripping away from the skin on my back.

I suddenly heard heavy machinery being loaded and a white blob came to my side holding something that looked mysteriously like a syringe. "Should we sedate it?" A voice asked, the fog was slowly starting to clear, thank God, I could remember what was going on here again, but conversation from the past five minutes were slowly staring to ebb from memory, and I couldn't yet pinpoint where the voice came from in the room.

There was a pause, "No, I want her to feel every second of this." Another voice, one that I could only assume was the commander.

There was a sudden sound of the heavy machinery whirring to life just above me, and I tried craning my neck to see what it was, only to find my head being forced downwards against the table, and then I felt it as metal bit into skin.

And screamed.