Rayzor told himself it was perfectly natural to be concerned when the shuttle did not appear at the specified coordinates.

It was likely that the Paladins and the Alteans in the shuttle had taken a longer route, to try and shake their Galra pursurers.

That had to be it.

After he'd heard nothing from them for an additional hour past their expected arrival time, he stopped telling himself that it was likely that they were going through a rough patch of an asteroid field and that they also had their communicators off for security purposes.

Swearing to himself, he called up his comms officer and told him to scan any Galra chatter within five lightyears of their location. The only drawback of this tactic - being able to listen to the enemy - was that you couldn't extend your reach too far, or listen for too long, for fear of being noticed, tracked down, and killed.

It was how Sendak had found and killed Arris.

As he waited for word, Rayzor ground his teeth and tapped the claws of one hand on the arm of his captains chair.

When word did come, it was even worse than he had feared.

It seemed the Galra had indeed captured the Black Paladin, along with his Lion - and - and then they had -

The comms officer swallowed, almost unable to continue.

"Proceed," Rayzor said. He kept his voice flat, unemotional, but he felt his clawed fingers dig into the arms of his captains chair.

The comms officer told him that the Druids had captured all of them - both Alteans and all five of the Paladins, along with the Black Lion.

Rayzor nodded, keeping his face impassive, making his decision in a heartbeat.

"Ready a shuttle for me," he said, rising to his feet. "And while you're at it, tell the Council I am going to get more information on our allies' situation."

As Rayzor left the deck, he was already planning out a strategy that that might let him find out more information - where the shuttle and the Black Lion had been taken, which Paladins - if any - were still alive - if the Princess and her Royal Advisor were -

Rayzor felt his lips curl into a snarl, and he stopped walking. He forced himself to take several calming breaths before he continued towards the bay where his shuttle waited for him. He'd once heard Arris call the shuttle a pod, but the terms were practically interchangeable.

"Sir!" one of his officers said, following him out of the control room and down the hall. "Sir, the pod you're going to use doesn't have a shielding device - you'll have to call down to the surface and ask for permission to land, once you get back - sir -"

"I know, Lieutenant," Rayzor shot over his shoulder. "I'm well aware of the safety protocols."

Of course he did. Any solider would tell you that shuttles or pods or whatever they were called were too risky to equip with the shielding devices that protected the main ships of their small fleet, in case of capture by the Galra.

The officer went quiet then, realizing that Rayzor knew full well the risks of the situation he was choosing to go into.

He could be captured by the Druids. Or he could run out of fuel, and his life support systems would fail. Even if none of those things happened, if he lost the use of his comms he would not be able to call in a landing request for his shuttle. He would either crash onto his own home planet or be forced to land on a distant moon, with no certain way of getting back home.

"Sir…" the officer said, in a low voice. "Sir, there's no need for you to -"

As Rayzor reached the shuttle, he turned and looked his subordinate square in the eyes.

"There's every need for it, Lieutenant," he said. "We don't leave allies behind - especially not to the Druids. Now take these men home, and let me go about my business."

"The Council-"

"The Council," Rayzor said, "put me in charge of this ship. And now, I'm putting you in charge of this ship."

He put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Get our men home," he said. "I'll do what I can. If you don't hear from me within the next seventy-two hours, elect someone to take my place as leader of the guard."

As Rayzor launched his pod out of the bay, he did not look back at his ship as it turned and headed back towards his home planet.

His mind was solely focused on the goal ahead.

He would discover whoever was still alive. And then, he would develop a strategy to get them out.

They were his allies, after all.

He felt beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead and wiped them off quickly. Then he gripped hold of the ship's controls with his claws to keep them from trembling.

As long as there was a chance they were alive, he would try to find them, try to get them out. He would never leave anyone he knew - anyone - in the hands of the Druids. It was a fate worse than death.

Rayzor could only hope that if anyone was still alive, he would get to them before the Druids broke them.