Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

            The castle’s sleep cycle drew closer to its end, and Lance still found himself awake, staring at the ceiling. He’d tried hours ago to rest, to get at least a wink of sleep before he had to be awake for breakfast, but unconsciousness, the one time he needed it  most, evaded him. Every time he grasped it, something bombarded him, forcing him to let go. When he’d first tried falling asleep, it was the delirious thought that he was on Lotor’s ship, so there was no way he could sleep when he had to be on guard. The second time, it was Keith, being shot dead by Lance’s own blaster, Haggar roaring with laughter in his head as she fled to let him deal with the aftermath alone. The third and final time, it was the irrational thought that he was just daydreaming, and he was with Lotor at this very minute, and if he fell asleep, he would wake up, back in that reality.

            Lance couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up slowly, feeling around in the darkness of his room for his bayard. He didn’t trust leaving it with his suit in the other room, or in Blue. When he’d needed it, it’d been too far away, and the only reason he’d gotten it, and been able to escape Lotor’s ship, was because of Keith’s guard, a member of the Blade of Marmora who’d paid for his aid to the Paladins with his life. If Keith’s guard hadn’t run across Lance at the moment he did, Keith would probably have been dead, the other Paladins would have been prisoners, and Lance would probably be a slave to Lotor and Haggar’s every whim.

            There you are. Lance closed his fingers around the bayard, hanging on a hook on the wall. He opened up his door and headed out into the hallway on silent feet, careful not to disturb anyone sleeping in the nearby rooms. Dimmed white light guided Lance all the way down to the training deck.

            Lance had never been one to go to the training deck to release his pent-up energy. Mostly, he was the kind of person who fell asleep with headphones on and let everything else melt away, and then wake up and shower off whatever remained, worries running down the drain with the water. This was maybe the third time he’d ever done this, continuing a habit that started after he’d temporarily piloted the Red Lion. Unlike those other times, though, Lance did not find the training deck empty when the door opened for him.

            “Start training level six!”

            Keith lifted the bottom of his shirt to his face and wiped away the sweat, bracing himself for the two training bots that came at him swinging. Lance observed him from the doorway, noting the way Keith swung his blade, noting his blind spots—blind spots that one of the bots took advantage of. The bot knocked Keith off of his feet with a hit from the side. In his surprise, Keith let go of his bayard, and it skittered across the floor, blade disappearing. The other bot bore down on him, blade cutting too close to Keith’s face. Keith rolled right, and the blade hit the floor just inches away.

            “End training sequence!” Keith shouted, and at once, the bots froze, and then dematerialized into fading blue threads of code.

            Keith got to his feet and dragged his arm across his face, wiping away the sweat on his forehead. He made his way to his bayard, lying on the ground just a few feet away, when he looked toward the door and caught sight of Lance.

            “How long have you been standing there?” Keith called to him.

            Lance pushed off of the door frame he’d been leaning against. “Not very long. Just long enough to watch you get your butt kicked.”

            “If I’d known I was being watched, maybe I would have tried to show off a bit more,” Keith deadpanned, trying to suppress the smile that came to his face. He turned away from Lance to scoop up his bayard, pretending to study the handle. “What are you doing up and in here, anyway?”

            “Oh, y’know…” Lance scuffed the edge of his shoe against the floor. “I just, ah, decided that I to work on my combat skills, and so I thought, why not get a head start on the day? You feel?”

            Keith noted the dark rings forming under Lance’s eyes, the disheveled look to his hair. Lance never stepped out of his room looking like anything less than perfection—not usually.

            “Yeah,” Keith finally answered. “Anyway, I can start this thing back from level one, or I could leave—”

            “No, it’s fine,” Lance interrupted, and then called out, “Start training level six!”

            Two new bots dropped from the ceiling. They rushed for Keith and Lance. Lance sprinted, trying to widen the distance between himself and Keith, while Keith automatically engaged one of the bots. Swords clashed together, once, twice, and when Keith went in for the third time, the robot spun, thrusting instead of slashing. Keith staggered back to avoid a blow to the ribs, momentum carrying him further back than he’d intended. He must’ve been at the outer ring of the training deck—the material beneath his feet changed. He planted one foot to try and regain his balance, while the bot came at him again.

            And then was blown to pieces.

            Keith whipped his head around. He expected Lance to be looking at him triumphantly, gloating about destroying the bot that was after Keith, but his attention was already returned to the bot bearing down on him. Without his Paladin suit, he was left without a shield to defend himself, and he couldn’t very well just let the bot destroy his gun. He played cat-and-mouse, ducking one way as the bot swung in the other. Each time he found an angle to shoot from, the bot moved, and Lance’s chance to squeeze off the shot was lost.

            The next swing from the bot missed the side of Lance’s head by inches, and in trying to avoid getting knocked out, Lance’s feet slipped out from under him. His back hit the ground first, and his gun came down on top of him. The bot turned, and started its swing, only to be thrown off of him and across the room. Suddenly, the bot was no longer standing over Lance—it was Keith, breathing hard. Across the room, the bot turned into blue code and fizzled away.

            “Thanks,” Lance breathed, taking the hand Keith offered to help him up.

            “Hey, you blew apart the one that was after me. How did you—”

            “Has anyone ever told you that you’re not completely aware of your surroundings when you fight?”

            Keith’s cheeks pinkened. “Um, maybe? I-I can’t remember. Have you been observing me that long?”

            Lance snorted. “No. Pidge told me. I wanted to know my weakness, which is apparently close combat, and then I asked about everyone else. You know, for future reference.”

            “And she told you?”

            “Uh, of course?”

            “Is there any other information you want to give me?” Keith asked, crossing his arms, bayard shrinking back to normal.

            Lance stroked his chin, feigning deep thought. For the extra dramatic effect, he stared up at the ceiling. Keith rolled his eyes. Lance returned his gaze to him, smirking all the while. Keith’s face fell. “Lance, what are you doing?”

            “Your other weaknesses are feelings and talking about feelings. And social interaction in general.”

            Keith scoffed. “Excuse me, I can make a joke when I want to. One time I cracked a joke with Hunk.”

            Lance gasped. “I thought he was lying!”

            “Nope. So, now that we’re being open with each other, let me tell you why I think you’re really awake: you can’t sleep.” Keith uncrossed his arms and plopped himself down on the floor, patting the space next to him. Lance hesitated, glancing toward the door, but then Keith was tugging on his hand, so Lance sat himself down, too.

            “No, I can’t sleep,” Lance confirmed. “I tried. Three times. Every time I tried, I started getting…I guess paranoid is the word I’m looking for? I dunno, I just…we were there for what, two days? I don’t know why it’s affecting me like this, it’s just…just stupid.”

            Lance drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, and then buried his face in the little hole he’d created.

            “It’s not stupid,” Keith said, scooting closer to Lance and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “In two days, you had to flirt with a creep, sneak around the heart of the Galra Empire, break into an air duct, fall out of an air duct, get possessed, break free of the possession, and then somehow still manage to not kill me. A lot happened. We didn’t get much sleep in those two days.”

            Lance made a noise, something like a groan. Keith patted Lance’s shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, I can’t sleep either.”

            “You have an excuse. You almost died,” Lance’s muffled voice replied.

            “Suffering is relative,” Keith said.

            He stood up, and then reached down to help Lance up. Lance didn’t resist; he didn’t resist when Keith pulled his arms apart, didn’t resist when Keith made him stand up, didn’t resist when Keith draped Lance’s arm around his shoulder, didn’t resist when Keith put his own arm around Lance’s waist. Keith bent down once, to scoop up the bayards they’d set on the ground, and then they were off, out of the training deck, into the halls.

            “You and I both need sleep,” Keith said. “Maybe that little round of training was enough.”

            “Yeah, maybe,” Lance muttered.

            They walked the rest of the way to Lance’s room in silence. When they entered, they separated themselves. Keith stood in the doorway as Lance hung his bayard back on the wall, kicked off his sneakers, lay down in his bed. As soon as it seemed Lance had settled himself back under the tangle of sheets on his bed, Keith turned to go.

            “Keith, wait.”

            Keith paused. “Yeah?”

            Lance propped himself on one elbow, angling himself to look at Keith. “Why don’t you just…y’know…sleep here? I mean…your room is pretty far.”

            Keith almost corrected him—no, his room was just across the hall—but then he realized.

            “Yeah, sure.”

            Keith shut the door as he entered the room. He sat on the edge of Lance’s bed, kicking off his own shoes, and once they were off, he lay down next to Lance. He kept his distance—between the two of them, their pinkies brushed, and that was it. But apparently, that was good enough for Lance. The exhaustion must have set in, because within five minutes, Lance was out, and not ten minutes later, Keith followed suit.

            “Paladins! You’re needed in the dining room immediately! This is an emergency! Paladins! To the dining room!”

            Lance opened groggy eyes at the sound of Coran yelling into the ship’s PA system, not particularly willing to move at that very moment. No, scratch that—not able to move at that very moment. Lance blinked a few times, everything coming into sharper focus. His body seemed to still be waking up, as each of his senses began to work again.

            Lance was in his own bed.

            That was normal.

            Keith was here.

            Okay. That was fine. Lance had asked him to stay, anyway.

            But Lance did not remember falling asleep spooning Keith.

            And yet, here he was, most definitely spooning Keith. His one arm had somehow ended up draped across the bed, while Keith’s head rested partly on top of it, partly nestled into the crook of Lance’s neck. Lance’s other arm rested on top of Keith, and their legs had gotten tangled together in the middle of the night.

            “Paladins!”

            It was this next call that finally seemed to register to Keith. Keith bolted up, and in doing so, head-butted Lance’s jaw.

            Lance howled in pain, sitting up next to Keith, hands flying to the bottom of his face. Keith whirled around, eyes wide.

            “What the hell? Why are you so close to me?”

            “Why are you so close to me?”

            Keith didn’t answer; he kicked off the sheets and grabbed his boots, tugging them on as quickly as he could, while Coran’s voice still yelled from the PA system for all of the Paladins to please for the love of the entire universe get your butts to the dining room. Lance did the same, and tugged his jacket and bayard down off the wall as he and Keith headed out the door.

            They sprinted the whole way there, arriving last. Shiro and Allura sat on one side of the dining table, while Hunk and Pidge sat on the other side.

            “Thanks Coran, we’re all good,” Shiro said, into his Paladin helmet.

            He was the only one in full uniform, Keith noted as he and Lance slid into two empty seats at the dining table. He also had bags under his eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept in several days.

            “What took you two so long?” Pidge asked from next to Lance, looking at Lance and Keith sideways.

            She wiggled her eyebrows.

            “Pidge,” Shiro warned.

            Pidge smiled down at her breakfast.

            “Paladins, there’s been troubling news coming into the castle in the past few quintents,” Allura said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “And by troubling, I mean, it is incredibly worrying. It seems Prince Lotor has…not taken things lightly, after what happened a few quintents ago. Reports have been coming in from several different sources, and…things are not looking good.”

            Lance pushed around the food on his plate. His conversation with Keith from the day before came back to him. Keith hadn’t told him very much, probably because he hadn’t heard very much, but people were dying because Lotor was angry, because Lance had sent him over the edge.

            None of this is your fault.

            Lotor had been the obsessed one. Lotor was the one who thought Lance was a Galran spy, who invited him on the ship, who hadn’t been paying enough attention. Lance had done nothing but accept the invite and do his job.

            None of this was his fault.

            “W-What do you mean?” Hunk asked, setting his fork down.

            Allura sucked in a breath. “It seems Prince Lotor has been doubling down on his efforts to conquer the universe. As of a few days ago, he’d successfully taken over two planets. One was merely placed under occupation, after its citizens surrendered. The other fought back, and Lotor’s forces decimated it. Most citizens were captured or killed, but a few were left in the rubble, sending out distress signals. Unfortunately, we’ve received word this morning that another planet has been demolished in similar fashion.”

            “Why didn’t anyone say something sooner?” Pidge asked.

            “Keith wasn’t even out of his cryopod yet, and we just came back from an intense rescue mission. We needed to give you guys a few days to rest,” Shiro explained, eyes cutting to Keith.

            “Have you two gotten any rest?” Lance interrupted.

            “A bit,” Allura lied.

            Lance didn’t seem to buy it, but he didn’t push the question further, dropping his eyes back down to the green goo on his plate.

            “We haven’t covered everything,” Shiro went on. “We got into contact with Kolivan again. The Blade’s numbers are rapidly falling.”

            Keith stiffened in his chair, despite having already heard the news before. Lance looked sideways at him and frowned, dropping his hand below the table. His fingers brushed Keith’s hand, where it had been dangling since they sat down. Keith gripped Lance’s hand numbly.

            “What?” Pidge asked.

            “It seems that, after they orchestrated the distraction that allowed you three to get onto his ship,” Allura started, motioning toward Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro, “Lotor got wind of the Blade of Marmora being behind it. Someone let slip the exact number of Blade members aboard his ship. Rivvin, if you’ll remember, was killed during the rescue, and then Lotor hunted down seven more members, including the two in charge of the distraction. He executed them all in the arena.”

            Keith tightened his grip on Lance’s hand.

            “After that, he ordered all of his guards to be interrogated. Four have been wrongly executed. The other seven Blade members have been hiding out, but we fear it won’t be long before he finds them,” Allura went on.

            “But there are other ships where Blade members have been working,” Shiro added. “We don’t have the exact number, but so far, at least nine have been killed by Lotor’s commanders.”

            “How many members of the Blade of Marmora are there?” Pidge muttered.

            “Not enough,” Shiro answered grimly.

            “Understandably, Kolivan is not pleased,” Allura said. “The Blade of Marmora has been running secret operations for a long time, and these new developments have angered him.”

            “So what are you saying here?” Keith interrupted.

            Shiro and Allura exchanged glances.

            The rest of the team stared.

            “Kolivan’s threatening to cut aid to Voltron if we can’t get things in order soon,” Shiro finally said.

            He winced, expecting shouting from the four youngest Paladins, but instead, they sat in stunned silence, turning to one another.

            “He can’t do that, can he?” Hunk finally asked.

            “The Blade can do whatever it wants,” Shiro answered, “including cutting ties with Voltron. Unfortunately, they’ve been our biggest supporter in the past few months. If we can’t find a way to stop Lotor soon, or at least slow down his advances, we lose them.”

            “And how are we supposed to stop a guy who’s taken three planets in a few days?” Pidge asked.

            Shiro nodded toward Allura.

            “Well,” she said, “we have a fairly certain idea of which planets Lotor intends to strike next. We’re going to need to help them prepare, and then ward off, any incoming attacks. We’re also going to have to work on making new allies. If we save a few planets, we’ll have them to back us up. And we were hoping that a few other rebel groups might be willing to aid us.”

            “There seems to be an awful lot riding on other people helping us,” Hunk remarked. “Are we sure this is the best course of action? What if no one agrees to help us?”

            “We don’t know yet. This is our best option, and we’ve been working on others. Obviously, we’re going to need to figure out how to strengthen ourselves,” Shiro said.

            “What about Haggar?” Lance spoke up.

            Everyone turned to look at him.

            Under the table, Keith squeezed his hand, while Lance continued.

            “Haggar was in my head. What if Lotor brings her to whatever planet they’re attacking when he gets word that Voltron is there? What if she tries to corrupt us when we’re all together? Allura fought her off in my head—thank you for that, by the way—but what if all five of us get corrupted or poisoned or whatever? Like Coran said, Allura gets poisoned like, five times.”

            Allura looked down at the floor, gears in her head turning.

            “We’ll have to train for it, obviously,” she murmured.

            “How do we train for that? A-Are you gonna like, go into our heads or something?” Hunk asked.

            “Yes,” Allura answered, still not looking up.

            Hunk sank back. “I don’t like where this is going.”

            “Come on, Hunk, you act like we’ve never done a mind-meld before,” Pidge said. “I think it’ll be interesting.”

            “And useful,” Keith cut in.

            Lance just nodded his head, his own thoughts buzzing. He needed to learn to defend himself from an attack within his mind. He hadn’t been able to fight off Haggar without help. Of course, it had just been his mind Haggar had been trying to control, not five or six minds at once, so he supposed he could cut himself a little slack, but…still. If Allura hadn’t come to save him, none of them would be sitting here.

            Keith would be dead.

            Allura might have been dead.

            Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk would be prisoners aboard Lotor’s ship.

            Lance would just be a puppet.

            “So what about allies?” Keith asked, changing the subject.

            Lance smiled thinly at the table.

            “Well, like we said, we’re going to have to get onto those planets—” Shiro started, only to cut himself off. He held a hand up, to keep anyone else from speaking. His eyes widened, mouth set into a grim line.

            “Mhm,” he said, and then repeated it twice more, and then, “yeah, we’ll be there as quickly as we can.”

            Whatever it was, Allura seemed to have heard it, too.

            “What’s going on?” Pidge asked.

            “Incoming transmission from one of the planets Lotor’s been targeting,” Shiro said. “Everyone, to the bridge. Now.”

            Everyone pushed away from their breakfast, chairs scraping the floor. Shiro and Allura led the group out of the dining room, Lance and Keith bringing up the rear, hands still clasped tightly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

            Static filled the screens of the bridge when the Paladins arrived. Coran stood in the center of the screens, and the hollow look on his face when he turned around told the Paladins everything they needed to know.

            “Lotor’s forces are several quintents ahead of schedule, it would appear,” Coran said. “They’ve taken Aldelka.”

            Allura’s face darkened. She stepped up to her post and called up the universal star map. She enlarged a particular section of stars and planets, three of which were highlighted red. With just a few taps at the holoscreen in front of her, Allura turned another one red—another victim of the Galra Empire.

            “Which planet was the next one on the list?” Shiro asked, crossing his arms, scanning the space around the cluster of red planets.

            Allura zoomed in on one not too far from the one she’d just turned red. “Nivon. They’re a small warrior planet. I fear their planetary size will make for easy pickings for the Galra, but if the Nivonian people can hold out, we can be there within a few vargas, and perhaps arrive before Lotor’s forces. Coran, can you try and get into contact with their leaders?”

            “Of course,” Coran said, and headed back to his control board, immediately setting to work.

            Lance took in the sight of the four red planets, the realization hitting him at once that these four planets did not take time to take over, that this had happened in a matter of days, and were only the latest in an ongoing campaign by the Galra. The campaign had been slow at first, but at a rate like this…

            Lance’s train of thought was interrupted by the star map projection vanishing, and the screens along the windows coming to life. Keith wrenched his hand out of Lance’s in the moment before a face appeared on the screen, leaving Lance no time to question why. Keith just gave him a look that told Lance he’d explain as soon as this was over with.

            “Hello?”

            Lance and Keith both returned their gazes to the screen before them, where a person stood center. Well, a person in the most basic sense of the word. They weren’t a human by any means. Lance counted nine eyes on this person—two rows of four eyes, with a ninth eye in the center above them all, and all of them were a deep red-orange. No discernible nose. A small mouth. Three arms—one on the left, two on the right. It would make sense that someone with an extra arm and seven extra eyes would be a warrior—at least, it made sense in Lance’s head. Better vision. More arms to hold more weapons. Whatever head they had ran straight into their pale orange body, no neck to be found. Which meant there was no neck to easily be snapped in the midst of battle. They were also bald—no hair meant nothing for the enemy to grab onto.

            “Greetings,” Allura said, bowing slightly from where she stood at her post. “I am Princess Allura of Altea, and these are the Paladins of Voltron.”

            “Oh, my, the gods have heard our prayers,” the person remarked, before composing themselves and going on. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Queen Paveir. Your transmission comes in at the perfect time.”

            “From what I understand, the Galran forces under Prince Lotor have set sights on your planet, and you’ve sent in multiple transmissions to Voltron within the last quintent—or…lingick,” Allura said. “We’ve received each transmission and are here to ask permission to land on your planet and aid you as best we can.”

            “Of course,” Queen Paveir answered, clasping together two of her three hands. “I will inform my commanders and generals at once, to make sure your landing is smooth. I formally invite each one of you to the palace so that we may discuss the present issues in person, without fear of the Galra Empire intercepting any of our communications.”

            “We will be there shortly,” Allura said. “We’ll be there within the next few var—err, smovalls.”

            “Excellent,” Queen Paveir said.

            Allura bowed slightly, and the transmission ended there. She turned then to the Paladins.

            “Each of you needs to be suited up and ready to go within the next varga,” she said, “and then you’ll report back here.”

            Shiro nodded to her. “All right, guys, you heard her.”

            The Paladins left the bridge, in no hurry to get suited up. They had an hour, after all. Which meant Lance had plenty of time to talk to Keith. Had he done something wrong? …No, that couldn’t be it—they’d reassured each other enough that this was what they wanted, and they’d gone through hell just to get it. Besides—Keith wouldn’t have been walking next to him, matching his pace, if he didn’t want to see Lance.

            “Dude,” Lance said, “what was up back there? Are you ashamed to be seen with me or something? I know I’m the better-looking one of us, but—”

            “No, no, it’s not that,” Keith said, and made it a point to take Lance’s hand again. “It’s just that we don’t know how trustworthy these planets really are. And if they find information that they could hold against us, then…you get what I’m saying?”

            Lance’s face went deadpan. “Keith, the prince of this whole empire knows we like each other. How much worse can things get?”

            “All I’m saying is, you never know,” Keith replied. “Everyone’s got motives of their own. We’ve been betrayed before.”

            Lance opened his mouth to ask, who the heck are you talking about, but Keith cut him off: “Lance, you got chained to a tree.”

            Lance’s face flushed.

            “Okay, listen, that was one time—”

            “The mermaids.”

            Lance glared. “All right, so I have my flaws, but you do too! Remember that fight with Zarkon?”

            It was Keith’s turn to flush. He pulled his hand out of Lance’s and crossed his arms—and yet, he didn’t break stride. Lance smiled at him and threw an arm around Keith’s shoulder, pulling them closer together. They remained that way the whole walk down to the room where the Paladin suits were kept. Pidge and Hunk were already suited up, and of course, Shiro had been suited up before all of them.

            Had Shiro ever even changed out of it since the rescue mission?

            Keith shoved that thought away as he and Lance suited up, Pidge and Hunk standing at the back of the room as they did so.

            “So you guys are finally together now, right?” Pidge asked.

            Lance and Keith paused to look at each other.

            “…Uh, yeah,” Lance answered finally.

            “So does this mean you two are gonna be mushy and gross before every mission?” Pidge asked.

            Pidge and Hunk watched the shit-eating grin they’d seen too many times appear on Lance’s face.

            “No,” Keith answered at the same time that Lance threw himself on Keith, sending them both to the floor. “Keith! You must come back to me! I love you so much! I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

            Hunk groaned, while Pidge began snickering.

            “Why did you provoke him?!” Keith shouted from the floor.

            Pidge shrugged, smirking all the while. “I did nothing of the sort.”

            The castleship landed on Nivon a few hours later, on a large landing platform on the side of the Nivonian palace. Lotor’s forces were nowhere in sight, and hopefully, at least another day’s journey away. A day, Coran had estimated, would give the Paladins sufficient time to work with the Nivonian military to set up a means of defense.

            A general by the name of Iznar greeted the Paladins, and was the one to lead them into the throne room of the palace. Shiro and Allura struck up polite conversation with her, trying to get crucial information about the military’s size and capabilities as quickly as they could. The other Paladins and Coran took in the sight of the palace. Its structure was all sharp edges and angles, hewn of some deep orange-brown rock. The inside structure was gridded, making for easy access and navigation.

            From a planet with an apparent “warrior” people, no one expected anything less.

            The throne room was on the fifth floor, in the center of the palace, which, Iznar explained, made it more difficult for enemies to storm the place and assassinate Queen Paveir. The stone used to construct the palace would destroy any ship attempting to crash into the castle, and anyone rushing through the halls to assassinate the royals would sooner be met with an execution by one of the many posted guards than with a successful assassination attempt.

            Even as a Paladin of Voltron, with his armor on, bayard within easy reach, and surrounded by his team, the whole place made Lance uneasy. He’d never seen a level of organization like this on any planet the team had ever visited. Plus, if they were so secure in the palace, what made them so apprehensive about an attack by the Galra? Were the cities of this planet much worse-off? In history classes, Lance had learned enough about corrupt politicians. He’d seen it firsthand on Earth.

            Were these people just as bad? Was this what Keith had been talking about earlier?

            Something brushed Lance’s hand. He looked to his right; Keith raised his eyebrows at him, but Lance shook his head.

            He just needed to focus on the mission. These people were asking for Voltron’s help. And besides—some Galra weapons had the capability to destroy whole planets in just a few hits, if not in a single shot. These people had every right to be afraid, especially if their planet was small.

            “Here we are,” Iznar announced, after a long while of walking through the palace. Two of the four guards posted at the doors to the throne room slowly drew them open, and Iznar walked inside, Allura, Coran, and the Paladins following.

            There was one seat at the end of the room, and the figure of Queen Paveir rose from it.

            “Holy quiznak,” Pidge whispered from in front of Lance.

            Holy quiznak indeed.

            The transmission had not done Queen Paveir’s height justice. Iznar had already been tall, at least a head taller than Shiro, but Queen Paveir easily dwarfed them both. If Lance had to guess, she was at least eight feet tall. Maybe taller. No wonder she was the queen.

            “Greetings, Princess Allura, Paladins, and…who might this be?” Queen Paveir said, eyes stopping on Coran.

            “This is Coran, my royal adviser,” Allura replied.

            “Greetings to you, too, Coran,” Queen Paveir amended. “We on Nivon welcome your arrival with open arms. We’re immensely grateful for your aid against the pending attack by the Galra.”

            “Well, we’re more than happy to assist,” Allura said, clasping her hands in front of her.

            “Wonderful,” Queen Paveir said. “As Iznar can explain, we’ve been setting up battle stations all over the planet. As you have probably observed, our planet is small in size, despite the size of our military being much larger than most other planets. We can only accomplish so much in terms of defense. Many of our resources came from planets like Aldelka, may the gods help them…”

            Queen Paveir bowed her head and shut her eyes for a moment. Allura and Coran followed suit, and after quick glances to each other, so did the Paladins. They stood like that, in silence, for what had to be a good thirty seconds before the Paladins heard movement, and raised their heads. Queen Paveir smiled thinly at them. Her nine eyes, all of which had been reddish-orange before, were now black, although Lance could see them already starting to fade back.

            So. Eyes that changed color with mood.

            That was new.

            “So,” Queen Paveir said, “as I said, we have multiple battle stations on this planet, and Iznar believes she has a strategy that may work to fight back against the threat of the Galra.”

            Queen Paveir nodded to Iznar, whose eyes shone a dark, almost blood red as she looked at the Paladins.

            “There are five of you with Lions. Is this correct?” she asked

            “Yes,” Shiro answered.

            “Good. While there are more than five battle stations—many more than five—I believe that, if we can put a Lion at five key stations, we can ward off the Galra with as little effort as we can manage, which will save us resources and will allow troops to be deployed for recovery after the battle—assuming we win.”

            “You’re aware each Lion isn’t the same, right?” Keith found himself asking. His voice had come out more defensive than he’d meant, but to her credit, Iznar didn’t even flinch. She motioned for him to continue, and he did: “The Lions don’t all have the same capabilities. They’re different sizes. Like…the Yellow Lion can take a hit and come out without a scratch, and that same hit would crush a Lion like the Green Lion.”

            Iznar shifted to look at Pidge and Hunk, who nodded in confirmation of Keith’s statement.

            “Well, thank you, Red Paladin,” Iznar said, nodding now, too. “I’ll take this into consideration when I station the Lions, if you all would agree to such a plan.”

            Shiro turned, to look at all of his Paladins. They looked between each other, each of them nodding, murmuring their agreement, before Pidge gave the thumb’s-up to Shiro. He turned back to Iznar.

            “We agree.”

            “Excellent,” Iznar said.

            Five commanders under Iznar led the Lions to their battle stations. These battle stations were, according to Iznar, the five weakest. She reasoned that if these five got the extra support, then there were no chinks in the armor for the Galra to exploit, and their threat could be driven away from this planet. If things went as well as everyone was hoping, Queen Paveir had agreed to give Voltron the planet’s aid.

            All of that negotiating had led to Keith sitting in his Lion, near the base of a dormant volcano—one of the many that seemed to have formed the rock that the planet’s buildings were made of—awaiting orders. All he’d been told so far was to wait in his Lion for the attack, while the soldiers in the base below him got to their stations. Once the attack started, the main goal was to fight back with everything he had—easy enough.

            The second goal was to keep the base from being destroyed.

            A little bit harder, admittedly, but nothing Keith couldn’t handle.

            Assuming the druids weren’t waiting on the incoming ships.

            From the way Lance and Allura had explained things, it sounded as though Haggar had been the only druid to actually get into his head, and the others were just there to boost her power. But still, Keith had to wonder if any of them could take control of his Lion, and by extension, take control of him.

            “No water sources on this planet, are they kidding me?”

            Keith smiled, sinking back into his seat as he listened to Lance complain. He wondered if Lance sensed his boredom. Was that possible, even when they weren’t forming Voltron, to sense each others’ thoughts?

            “So where’d they stick you?” Hunk asked.

            “Near another volcano! My commander’s all like, oh, it’s still liquid, you should be fine, right? Like, no, that’s not how that works! That’s not how any of that works!”

            “Same here,” Pidge cut in. “No plant life for Green to gather energy from. They thought my hacking skills would be good to have, though, so they put me on the biggest base. I mean, biggest of the five worst, so like…the best of the worst.”

            “All right,” Shiro interrupted. “Take it easy, guys. Put that energy to good use when the Galra show up.”

            “Do we know when that’s supposed to be?” Keith asked.

            “We overestimated how much time we’d need to prepare,” Shiro admitted. “They’re still probably half a day out. Maybe a little less.”

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa, so you’re telling me I’m about to waste like, twelve hours just sitting here?” Lance interrupted.

            “Shiro just said it could be less than twelve hours,” Pidge pointed out.

            “We could like, play a game or something. Or tell stories,” Hunk suggested.

            “Or focus on the mission at hand,” Keith piped up.

            “Shut your quiznak, kiss-up,” Lance shot back.

            Keith switched on his video feed to Lance and looked him dead in the eye. “Wasn’t that the plan for later?”

            “HOLY SHIT.”

            “Pidge, come on, how many times—”

            “Shiro, I’m sorry, but that—Keith? Really?”

            “Lance is already starting to rub off on him,” Hunk remarked, a note of false shame in his voice.

            Lance blushed furiously, fighting back the smile making its way onto his face. “How. Dare. You.”

            “So is that the plan or not?”

            “I hate everything,” Shiro muttered, earning raucous laughter from Pidge and Hunk. “Keith, Lance, can you two do this somewhere else? Maybe after the battle?”

            Keith was still smiling, and opened his mouth to respond when he caught movement from the corner of his eye. The smile dropped from his face, and he swiveled his head to get a better look. His breath caught in the back of his throat; on the screen to his side, he could make out Lance practically mimicking his movements.

            “Uh, guys, we have a problem.”

            “No way,” Pidge said. “They’re here early! Shiro, how did you, Allura, and the queen even make these calculations?”

            “We were running off of how early they were to Aldelka,” Shiro answered, voice strained. “This is…really troubling. Team, get ready.”

            “Roger,” Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge answered at once.

            Keith curled his fingers around the lever at his left, while at his right, he moved to switch off his video feed. He caught sight of Lance staring at him, and when Keith met his gaze, Lance mouthed two words: stay safe.

            Keith gave him a tight nod and cut off the feed, and then wrapped his right hand around the other lever, bracing himself for a fight as the first of the Galra ships broke through Nivon’s atmosphere.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

            “Keith, how many ships can you see from where you are?” Shiro sounded borderline frantic in Keith’s ears, clearly unprepared for an attack to come this soon, probably realizing that the queen had false calculations, and might not have been aware that there were even ships coming in.

            Keith scanned the sky, waiting for the first blasts, itching to leap into action with Red and just take the ships out. One, two, three…three. Three ships, all fighters. Easy pickings.

            “Three fighters,” Keith answered.

            “Pidge?”

            “Five fighters.”

            “Hunk?”

            “I’m only seeing two.”

            “Lance?”

            “I counted three.”

            Shiro huffed. “I only see four over here. Something’s not right about this.”

            “So what’s our move, Shiro?” Keith asked, drumming his fingers on the lever in his hand. “We have to take them out, right?”

            “Work as fast as you can,” Shiro ordered. “I don’t know if this is a new tactic, or if this is just some kind of distraction from a bigger attack. Be ready for anything.”

            Taking out three fighters in a Lion like Red took Keith practically no effort at all. He leapt into action, the base beneath him following suit as he and Red took to the air. He eliminated two of the fighters almost right away with Red’s laser beam. The third was a little trickier, seeming to evade every shot Keith took, as well as every shot the Nivonians took, until one shot from the base below clipped a wing and sent the fighter spinning.

            The next shot from Keith took it down.

            Red came in for a landing on solid ground, while Keith scanned the sky once again. No sign of any other fighters. No battleships. Over the comms, Keith could hear the other Paladins’ fights winding down, as everyone wondered where the next wave of ships was.

            “Do we have a course of action?” Keith asked.

            They weren’t just going to sit here, were they?

            “I’m getting into contact with Allura now,” Shiro answered, and a few seconds later, a video feed from the castle came up at Keith’s right.

            “Allura, what’s the situation?” Shiro asked.

            “I-I’m not sure,” Allura admitted. “That strike was much earlier than anticipated, and current scans show no signs of any other Galra ships waiting outside of the atmosphere.”

            “Preemptive strike, maybe?” Hunk asked.

            “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Lance interjected.

            “Does anyone know who flies the fighters? Are they on autopilot? Or is someone flying them from inside?” Pidge asked.

            “Usually they’re on autopilot, or they’ve got sentries flying them,” Shiro answered.

            “Do you think they can relay information back to Lotor?” Pidge pressed.

            Silence fell over the comms, until Keith spoke up: “But how would they know we were coming to this planet?”

            “Intercepted transmissions, probably,” Allura answered.

            “Okay, so what you’re all saying is that Lotor knew we were coming here, and then sent in a bunch of drones to confirm whether or not we actually showed up?” Lance asked.

            “Seems like it,” Shiro said.

            “So then you guys realize that means Lotor’s probably gonna show his ugly face, right?” Lance went on. “And if he’s got confirmation that all five Lions of Voltron are just waiting around for him, he’s gonna bring Haggar.”

            Lance didn’t need to say any more than that for everyone to understand where he was going with things. Keith sank back in his seat, listening to the silence that filled up the comms once again. Someone had to come up with a plan. Quickly. Their predictions for when Lotor would strike meant nothing, if he was playing games like this.

            “So what do we do?” Pidge asked, voice small.

            Shiro breathed heavily, out of his nose, on his end of the comms. “We promised these people aid. We can’t turn our backs on them. We’re Paladins of Voltron, and we don’t back down in the face of danger. Stay in your positions for now.”

            Keith almost said something. Almost. But then Lance replied, “Roger,” and the words died in his throat. Lance had more of a reason to be apprehensive about everything than Keith did, and if he was fine with it, then that was that.

            There were two sources of Lotor’s headaches: the Paladins of Voltron, and the Blade of Marmora. And as much as he would have liked to have blamed the former, “scrambled communications” was always, always code for someone from the Blade of Marmora screwing around. If Lotor could have, he would have hunted down whichever treasonous Galra was behind this screw-up right now, but that was just a bit difficult, seeing as the traitor was on a battleship stalled in the middle of its journey to Nivon.

            Lotor ordered Commander Vix to apprehend the traitor at once, but it was not more than fifteen dobashes later when Lotor received word that an escape pod had been used, and had cloaked itself so well that even the radar detection systems could not pick it up. Of course. Of quiznaking course. Lotor shouldn’t have expected anything else from a group whose base his forces still could not find.

            “So we’ve no knowledge of whether or not the Paladins have landed on Nivon?” Lotor demanded.

            He stood on the bridge of his ship, speaking to a large screen that displayed one of his highest-ranked commanders—one who wouldn’t have that status for much longer. Commander Vix shook his head, standing firm—Lotor would give him credit for not flinching away, as several other commanders had in the past few messy days.

            “Affirmative,” Commander Vix said. “Any and all communications from the fighters have come back indecipherable, and unfortunately, the fighters have been destroyed, as we haven’t been able to receive anything else in the past few vargas. More unfortunately, we have no way of knowing if the Paladins of Voltron are behind this, or if Nivon’s own forces took them down.”

            “They’re a military planet, and you sent barely a dozen!” Lotor snapped, throwing his hands up.

            “At your orders,” Commander Vix said, and the look that crossed his face immediately after he uttered those words told Lotor that they weren’t meant to make it past his lips.

            “Insubordination will not be tolerated,” Lotor said, back going rigid. “The Paladins cannot catch up to our efforts. I order you to bring every cruiser and fighter you have at your disposal to the surface of that planet at once. If the Voltron Paladins are there, immediately send word, and keep them there. Do not, under any circumstances, let them escape before I arrive. If such a thing should happen, it will be your head.”

            Commander Vix gave Lotor a tight nod, a small utterance of “Vrepit Sa,” and the transmission cut off.

            As per the usual, no one was doing anything right, and Lotor was having to take matters into his own hands. He scowled as he punched in the codes for the next transmission, to a commander on another nearby planet. The potential presence of the Blue Paladin and the rest of his motley crew could not and would not deter the Empire’s progress.

            Lotor himself had said that they would not focus on the Voltron Paladins. If he had the opportunity to get to them, then by all means, yes, he would take it before it could slip away from him as it had before, but otherwise? The Voltron Paladins meant nothing.

            Absolutely nothing.

            “Paladins,” Allura said, after a long while of nothing, “prepare for a fight. We’re detecting numerous fighters and several battleships just outside of Nivon’s atmosphere!”

            These words did not surprise Lance.

            After all, with just over a dozen fighters attacking earlier, it made sense that a larger fleet had been waiting just outside the castleship’s range of detection. He sat up straighter in his seat, after hours of slouching and daydreaming.

            “Is anyone able to intercept their transmissions and see if Lotor is on board?” Shiro asked. “Pidge?”

            “On it,” Pidge said.

            “Are the rest of you ready?” Shiro went on. “Lance?”

            Lance narrowed his eyes, waiting for the moment when a Galra fighter appeared. “Yep.”

            “Hunk?”

            “All set.”

            “Keith?”

            “As I’ll ever be.”

            Lance didn’t have to wait long. Seconds later, through the dusty yellow-orange clouds of the planet’s atmosphere, a whole string of fighters appeared. They barreled for the base, seemingly locked onto Lance.

            “Let’s go, Blue!” Lance shouted, and they took to the sky, Blue getting to work with the laser cannon in her mouth. Several of the ships went down at once, and Lance and Blue maneuvered around the wreckages tumbling from the sky. Three more shots. Two more fighters down.

            Blue barrel-rolled out of the way of a torrent of lasers from one of the fighters, so far that she nearly rolled into the lasers of another. Lance steered her down, speeding toward the ground, several fighters on their tail—almost literally. He grit his teeth and pulled up just before he and Blue could smash into solid ground, but the fighters were not so lucky. At least four went down, hopefully a few more than that.

            And yet, there were still more coming in to cover them.

            “These ships are clear, but they’re trying to keep us here!” Pidge shouted suddenly, into the comms. “We were right earlier. Those other drones were just to make sure we were here, but someone from the Blade of Marmora scrambled their outgoing communications. But Lotor wants whichever commander is in charge here to keep us here long enough for him to arrive.”

            Keith swore on his end of the comms.

            “Makes sense,” Lance said, stealing a glance out the window, only to see another horde of incoming fighters.

            “Does he actually know we’re here?” Hunk asked.

            “He probably does now,” Pidge said.

            The gears began turning in Lance’s head. If Lotor wanted Voltron…then how focused would he really be on a planet whose people would fight back as hard as they could, who were practically raised for the military?

            “I have an idea,” he said.

            “Better explain fast,” Shiro said.

            “We need to draw their fire to one location,” Lance said. “If Lotor’s so concerned about getting Voltron, and he wants his fighters to keep us here, the entire point is to keep us apart, without aid. You guys following?”

            “You want us to get to one location,” Keith said. “What about the bases?”

            “Chances are, if their targets are us, they’ll leave the bases alone,” Lance said. “Right now, we’re the ones on the run. We lure them to one spot, and the tables turn. There can’t be an endless amount of them. If we thin out enough of them, they’ll disperse, and the Nivonians can help us take down the rest.”

            “If we lure them to the biggest base, we’ll be able to take down the most at once,” Shiro said. “Allura, can you get into contact with General Iznar or the queen and tell them to spread the word?”

            “On it.”

            “All right. Let’s go, team,” Shiro said.

            Lance shoved both levers forward, and Blue rocketed to top speed, doing the best she could to avoid the shots raining down from the fighters around them. One shot hit a paw; Blue jerked momentarily, narrowly avoiding colliding with another shot.

            “Sorry, girl,” Lance said.

            Blue purred around him. “It’s fine.”

            They sped on, Blue taking down more fighters as her laser cannon shifted to ice beams. They drew closer to the biggest base on the planet, fighters following them just as Lance had predicted.

            He spied cannons in nearly every window of the building, and as soon as the fighters got into their range, the cannons fired, glowing red projectiles taking down fighter after fighter. Moments later, magma beams joined in the melee.

            “How you holding up, Lance?” Keith asked.

            “Took one hit, but we’re good. What about you?” Lance replied, dodging another hail of laser fire from the fighters.

            Blue spun and unleashed her ice beams, taking down another row of fighters.

            “Nothing Red and I couldn’t handle.”

            “Oh, good, you’re both alive!” Hunk cut in, just as the Yellow Lion came smashing into the scene, body-slamming five fighters like they were nothing. The fighters ripped apart or crumbled upon impact, while the Yellow Lion remained undeterred.

            “That’s three of us, but where are Pidge and Shiro?” Lance asked.

            Lance got his answer about Pidge roughly a minute later, as fighters randomly began crumbling or blowing up. Once she was in a clear spot, the Green Lion shimmered into existence.

            “Hey guys!” Pidge greeted.

            The four present lions continued their assault on the fighters with aid from the base below them, quickly thinning out their ranks. Some went down half-melted, others encased in ice, some smashed, others in shards of shrapnel.

            The Black Lion still hadn’t appeared.

            “Shiro, answer your comms before I kick your ass,” Keith said. “You need to stop disappearing!”

            “Sorry,” Shiro said. “We took a hit that scrambled things for a few minutes!”

            “You have the biggest lion, dude!” Hunk said.

            “Two of the fighters tried crashing right into me,” Shiro ground out. “It was looking dicey for a minute, all right?”

            The Black Lion came barreling over the side of the building, jaw blade equipped. Black flew over the other Lions, taking down two fighters swooping in.

            “Paladins, the battleship is entering the atmosphere,” Allura warned. “From the readings I’m receiving, it’s armed with two ion cannons, one on each side of the ship.”

            “Thank you, Allura,” Shiro said. “Listen up, team. Hunk, can you take out one of the cannons on your own?”

            “Yeah, probably. I’ve done it before.”

            “Good. Keith, you and I are gonna take down the other one. Lance, I want you to distract this thing and attack with all you’ve got. Pidge, I need you pulling as much information from the outgoing signals on that ship as you can.”

            Distract? Not a problem.

            As long as he didn’t take a hit with the ion cannon.

            “You got it, Shiro,” Lance said. “But what about the other fighters?”

            There were still plenty of fighters around, and although most were being shot down by the Nivonians, others still made passes at the Lions—Blue blasted apart one that came too close to the Green Lion.

            “We take down this battleship, and then we eliminate anything else lingering. And then we need to get out of here,” Shiro answered. “We’ll have to send in a transmission to the queen afterward. I’m not sticking around long enough for Lotor to arrive.”

            Three hundred fighters, ten cruisers, and one commander lost.

            Honestly, Vix was lucky that the Paladins of Voltron had killed him, because Lotor would have done it, anyway. One less job for him to do, which was good, because apparently, tracking down the Paladins would remain on his list. In the moments before Lotor lost Vix’s feed, Vix had explained that one of the technicians on board had intercepted a transmission between the Paladins, that they’d planned on retreating as soon as the Galra threat was eliminated.

            Seeing as that had been nearly a varga ago, Lotor supposed they were long-gone by now.

            Once again, Voltron managed to evade him.

            The only upside to all of this was that Commander Lund had succeeded on the planet Fordeen. The capital city was currently under occupation, as its citizens had surrendered without putting up much of a fight. At the moment, patrols should’ve been moving in to take over other cities in similar fashion, armed in case anyone tried to fight back.

            That was a highly unlikely scenario.

            “Your Highness,” a voice said from behind Lotor. Lotor turned; a guard stood in the doorway to the bridge.

            “Out with it,” Lotor said, feigning boredom.

            Two more guards entered the room, hauling in a technician from somewhere on the lower levels of the ship.

            “We found another member of the Blade of Marmora, attempting to send out incorrect planetary coordinates and forged orders to retreat,” the first guard explained, while the second and third grunted their confirmations.

            Lotor raised his eyebrows, stalking toward the whole group of them.

            “Really now?”

            His eyes landed on the Galran now struggling against the guards holding them back. They stopped struggling the moment Lotor had a hand on their chin, forcing it up so that they could meet gazes.

            “You have two choices,” Lotor said.

            No grand introduction.

            No theatrics.

            He would cut right to the chase with this one.

            He was on a time crunch.

            “You can hand over the identities of the remaining six members of the Blade of Marmora on this ship, and you can be spared death—although you will be a prisoner and thrown into the arena, so I’m not quite sure how long that will last. Or, you can die by my hand, in the arena, without any chance to fight back, just like those who perished before you,” Lotor explained. “I would choose wisely.”

            The Galran wrenched their jaw away from Lotor’s hand and spit into it.

            “I’d rather die,” they said.

            Lotor shrugged, spinning on his heel, back toward the front of the bridge. “Lock them up,” he ordered over his shoulder. “Spread the word that there will be an execution tomorrow for yet another filthy traitor.”

            Compared to the damage on other planets, Nivon had been extremely lucky. Only one corner of the base had been hit by an ion cannon, before Keith and Shiro disabled it. It was a shot that had nearly taken down Lance, a shot Blue dodged away from at the last second. According to reports coming in to the castleship, the building was strong enough where damage had been minimal, and those in that section of the building sustained minor injuries.

            Thanks to the Paladins’ success in the battle, Allura announced, as the Paladins flew back into the castle, the alliance with Nivon had been secured.

            Lance let that information soak in as Blue landed in her hangar, and for a few moments, he didn’t move from his seat in the cockpit.

            He kept seeing the bright purple flash in his window, as Blue saved them both. If she hadn’t moved, that ion cannon would have vaporized them. No more Blue Lion. No more Blue Paladin.

            No more Lance McClain.

            “Do you blame yourself?” Blue asked gently.

            “No,” Lance answered. “I’ve just had too many close calls with death in the last week. I’d like a break.”

            “And yet, you know you can’t have a break.”

            “See, you understand me.”

            “And the others do, too, Lance. Go on—rest while you can.”

            “All right, all right, I’m going,” Lance said, rising out of his pilot’s chair. He made his way out of Blue, out of the hangar.

            He debated with himself whether or not to even change out of his Paladin suit, if there was a chance the Paladins would be called away for another mission. How uncomfortable would it have been to nap—

            “Lance!”

            Lance spun around, just in time for Keith to come crashing into him.

            “Whoa, hey,” Lance said. Keith’s arms tightened around Lance, while Lance wrapped his around Keith. “What’s gotten into you? You could hardly touch me this morning.”

            “Shut up,” Keith muttered against Lance’s neck.“I decided right after we went to breakfast that I liked it.”

            Lance didn’t argue with him—honestly, he’d enjoyed it, too.

            “So what’s up with the hug though?” Lance asked. “This is out of nowhere.”

            Keith drew back, long enough to glare at Lance. “You almost got taken out by an ion cannon, I figured you could use this.”

            And then he went back to practically squeezing the life out of Lance.

            Neither one of them let go of the other for a long time; when they did finally break apart, Keith slid his hand into Lance’s, and the two of them started for the bridge.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

            Lance and Keith’s smiles lasted as long as the walk to the bridge. Shiro was the only other one who’d bothered to come this way, but Keith and Lance had no time to question where Pidge and Hunk had gone; Shiro, Allura, and Coran were all silently staring at a video feed coming in from a planet neither Lance nor Keith recognized, a planet burning.

            Keith took a step forward to ask a question when the view of the feed went blurry, and moments later, the face of a Galran commander appeared. Lance and Keith ripped their hands apart before the commander could see them standing in the background, and then see their entwined fingers. At least with any other planet they visited, they were secure in knowing for a fact that no one knew about their relationship. Galran commanders were another matter; just how much had Lotor told them?

            “And so you see, Princess,” the commander said, sweeping his arm out to the destruction, “this is what happens when you stand in the way of Galran progress.”

            The video feed wavered, and a different planet appeared. This one was not burned, not by any means. The screen panned over a peaceful-looking city, and Keith almost wanted to ask why the Galra would show such a serene scene—to mockingly show the Paladins what they were trying and failing to preserve?—until the view panned out further, and slowly, the planet’s citizens came into the frame. All of them with bound hands, marched along their own roads by Galra soldiers and robotic sentries.

            Two more planets taken by the Galra.

            The feed changed, again, and this time, Prince Lotor’s face filled the screen. Lance stiffened beside Keith, unprepared, and when Lance’s fingers brushed his, Keith didn’t hesitate to take back his hand.

            “So now that I’ve made my—oh, what have we here? Two more Paladins have joined us, it seems. You just could not stay away from me, mmm, Lance?” Lotor said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

            Shiro, Allura, and Coran turned around, Shiro visibly blanching at the sight of Lance and Keith standing at the back of the bridge. He couldn’t just order them to go away. They lived in this castle, and they were Paladins, plain and simple. They deserved to be here to see this.

            “Trust me, you’re about the last person I ever want to see,” Lance said, finding his voice.

            Lotor grinned, as though Lance had been flirting with him, and studied him up and down. Keith grit his teeth and stepped in front of Lance, a barrier between him and Lotor. Lotor’s grin only widened when he saw Keith.

            “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, Red Paladin. You look awful. Tell me, do the scars still hurt?”

            “Don’t talk about him like that!” Lance called, pulling Keith back to his side before Keith could say something in retaliation. “Besides, you’re one to talk! You’re ugly even without scars!”

            “Are we done here?” Allura interrupted, grabbing Lotor’s attention.

            Lotor chuckled. “Trying to protect your Paladins, I see. Yes, Allura, we’re almost done. I just wanted to restate my offer one last time, now that you’ve seen the damage my forces can do in just a short span of time. Bring me Voltron in three quintents, and I’ll spare your lives. Every last one of you.”

            Lotor took a moment to spare another glance at Keith, and added, “No matter how much I may want to kill you.”

            Lance tightened his grip on Keith’s hand.

            “Fail to bring me Voltron in three quintents,” Lotor went on, “and the next time we happen to meet, I’ll take Voltron by force, and I will kill every last Paladin, and princess, and royal adviser. And please be aware that these are promises, and not mere threats, as you all love to assume.”

            Keith stepped forward, ready to retaliate, but Lance placed a gentle hand on his chest and held him back. Keith sank back, baring his teeth, but remaining silent. Lotor snorted at the sight of them.

            “Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you all in three quintents. In the meantime, there’s much to be done. I am not one to sit around.”

            The transmission cut off, and for a few moments, no one uttered a word, until Keith got to his senses.

            “What the hell was that?” Keith asked before he could stop himself. “We just got back, how long were you guys talking to him?”

            “Not long,” Allura answered, not the least bit jarred by his outburst. “The transmission started while you all were flying back in, and Shiro happened to come straight here.”

            “Why’d he bother with a transmission? Just to make another threat?” Lance spoke up.

            Shiro grimaced. “Sort of. He told us he plans on going through with this whole takeover thing, whether or not we hand over Voltron to him. You heard him—he won’t wait for an answer. He’s just going to keep conquering planets. While we were fighting on Nivon, he took over two more.”

            “We need to end this,” Keith interjected.

            “How?” Lance asked, as Keith turned to look at him. “We’re not just handing over Voltron. We made that clear before. And if we don’t hand it over, he’s just gonna come try and kill us. And, even if we did hand over Voltron, he didn’t say he’d stop with his takeover. He’ll probably just use Voltron to make things go even faster.”

            Shiro seemed to have put this together already. His eyebrows knit together, and he flashed a look at Allura and Coran. Keith and Lance looked between them, and Keith narrowed his eyes.

            “Did you guys already have a plan?”

            “We were in the process of coming up with one,” Allura said. She called over her shoulder, “Coran, please get Pidge and Hunk here. We need to have a meeting immediately.”

            Each passing day, the urge to assassinate Lotor grew bigger and bigger—it was really a wonder why Haggar hadn’t gone through with her desires yet. Zarkon already thought his son was one of the biggest losers in the galaxy, most of the officers who weren’t with the Blade hated him, and as much as he liked to tout how different he was from his father…he really wasn’t.

            That much was clear when Haggar got wind of the transmission between him and the Castle of Lions, coming just days after Lotor had expressed how much he didn’t care about going after Voltron, had expressed how he would let them come to him. Sending a transmission in the manner he’d just done, Haggar mused as she watched the ship’s recording, showed the complete opposite. This was him borderline begging for another confrontation.

            And killing all of the Paladins?

            Please.

            The Red Paladin was a goner for sure, there was no doubt in Haggar’s mind about that, but killing the Blue Paladin?

            Haggar had spent enough time around Lotor in the few days following their escape to know that Lotor had no true intention to kill the Blue Paladin. Well, maybe the Blue Paladin would die emotionally, once Lotor was through with him, but Lotor intended to keep that one. Any death threats to him were nothing but bluffs.

            Of course, Haggar would never divulge that information to the Voltron Paladins. As much as Haggar could not stand the emperor’s son, the Voltron Paladins were worse, no contest. However, if she could just…maybe lead them here, and stage an unavoidable accident, Lotor would be out of the way. With Zarkon refusing to heal from whatever the Paladins had done to him, and Haggar being the one closest to him, the only one with a shred of knowledge of his plans, she would have to step in.

            After that, it would only be a matter of time before the galaxy fell to her whims.

            Honestly, if Zarkon or his son had just stopped and followed her advice, the universe could have been theirs by now. But no, of course, they had to ignore her advice to take out the Castle of Lions before anything else. Taking out the castleship would have meant taking out home base and taking out their med bay, and then Zarkon could have gotten the Black Lion. The other Paladins would have been at a loss, all three of their leaders gone. Voltron would have fallen so easily.

            But of course not.

            First the Black Lion. Now the Blue Lion.

            Really, if they wanted the lions so badly, why didn’t they just divert all fleets to the castleship and take it down? Voltron would be theirs, there would be no one to stand in their way, and then they could focus on conquering the rest of the universe.

            But Haggar wouldn’t tell them that.

            As much as she hated failure after failure…there was almost something amusing about watching Lotor and Zarkon go to increasingly ridiculous lengths to get Voltron, when the obvious answer was right there.

            Three assassinations.

            Did Lance hear that right?

            Allura had explained the plan once Pidge and Hunk arrived: they needed to cut this thing off right at its core—the core being Lotor, Zarkon, and most importantly, Haggar. Haggar was the one able to corrupt each Lion, after all. Debate had immediately arisen over whether or not to split up and try to take all of them down at once, or move slowly through each one, as one unit.

            On the one hand, splitting up was quick, they could be sneakier, and if whoever went in could take down their target in one shot, they had a better chance of getting away unnoticed. On the other hand, if a fight were to break out, it was far better to have six or seven moving targets than one or two—someone would be there for backup.

            “We need to go as a unit,” Lance said, silencing the back-and-forth that had been going on for the past few minutes between Allura and Pidge, in favor of getting a couple people in and out, and Keith and Hunk, on the side of going as one large team. “Keith and I went into the Empire as a team of two before, and we almost died. We only got out because the rest of you showed up.”

            “But what if Haggar tries to take control of Voltron when we go to…you know?” Pidge asked.

            “We do just what we did when we took down that cruiser,” Shiro said. “We’ll need a couple people to take her down, some people prepped for escape, and some people to serve as distractions.”

            He’d been leaning against a wall the whole time with Coran, watching the debate, assessing each discussion.

            “We won’t be able to go the close combat route,” Shiro went on. “I’ve had my experience with that, and trust me. She can tear right through our armor with her magic. But seeing as I’ve gone against her before, I can serve as a distraction.”

            “Are you sure?” Keith asked, turning toward Shiro.

            Shiro nodded to him. “Keith, you’re going to be the one to get us in and out of there. Can Red hold six of us?”

            “Yeah,” Keith answered.

            “Good,” Shiro said. “Pidge, you’re gonna have to help him. How much useful information were you able to pull from the cruiser before we took it down?”

            “I pulled a transmission recording, but not much else. They were dead-set on that planet,” Pidge replied.

            “We’ll need to go over that recording as soon as we’re done sorting this out,” Shiro said. “Hunk, I’m gonna need you with me to draw Haggar’s attention. Lance, Allura, you’re our best chance of actually taking her down.”

            Lance nodded, but the knots in his stomach refused to undo themselves. Here they all were, standing around the bridge, talking about assassination, and he’d just been told that he’d have to be the one to pull the trigger. He’d killed plenty of robotic sentries and officers in the firefight that got everyone off of Lotor’s ship, but that had been in the heat of the moment.

            Those deaths still hadn’t fully sunken in yet.

            This was deliberate.

            In the name of self-defense, sure, but deliberate nonetheless.

            “Pidge, do you think you can pull up the recording of the transmission?” Shiro asked.

            “Yep,” Pidge said, and set to work at one of the control boards, Coran assisting.

            Lance leaned into Keith. Keith unclasped their hands so he could wrap his arm around Lance, while Lance rested his head on Keith’s shoulder.

            “You okay?” Keith whispered.

            Lance sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m just…I dunno, nervous about this?”

            “We’re all gonna be there,” Keith reassured him. “If anything happens, I’ll get you out of there.”

            Lance didn’t have the time to reply. The transmission Pidge had pulled from the cruiser came up on the bridge screens. One half of the screen showed Lotor, pissed off as usual, and the other half displayed the very unsettled, now-deceased Commander Vix.

            “The recording’s not very long,” Pidge admitted. “All it really does is confirm that we were right about his strategy. Not like we didn’t already know that. I guess I pulled the audio from the transmission when we were actually in the fight, but now we have the footage.”

            “That’s fine, we at least pulled something,” Shiro said. “All right. So our next step is to figure out how we’re going to get Haggar alone long enough to kill her.”

            The near-nonchalance with which he said it.

            Some days it was hard to remember that while Lance and Keith had spent a day playing the roles of a prisoner and a spy, and then another half day or so actually being imprisoned, Shiro had spent a whole year in Galra captivity. And then there were moments like these, that reminded Lance of that fact.

            “We need to get her away from Lotor, number one,” Keith said.

            “Not necessarily,” Hunk said.

            Everyone swiveled their heads to look at him.

            “What I mean is,” Hunk said, “wherever he goes, she goes, right? If we lure them to one place, together, then we can knock them both out in one go.”

            “He’s got a point,” Pidge agreed.

            Lance could practically feel the shift in Keith’s demeanor.

            “So we use me as the bait,” Keith said.

            “You’re our getaway, dude,” Hunk replied. “I don’t really think that’s a great idea.”

            “Yeah,” Lance said, and then added, “besides, we all know he’s really after me.”

            “But you’re the one who probably has the best chance of killing him,” Keith pointed out. “You’re gonna have a much harder time if he can see you pointing a gun at him.”

            Lance narrowed his eyes, straightening out to full height. “Okay, but listen, I’m not letting you be the one to risk your neck for this! He hates you!”

            “And he’s creepily obsessed with you! What makes you think I’m letting you be the bait?” Keith shot back, making it a point to get up into Lance’s face—even if he had to stand slightly on his toes to do it.

            “Would you two do us a favor and shut up?” Pidge interrupted. “Heck, I’ll be the bait. Everyone knows the Green Paladin’s the smart one. Maybe I can convince them to take me hostage instead of killing me, just long enough for the rest of you to get into position.”

            “Absolutely not,” Shiro said, eyes widening.

            Pidge slammed her head down at the control board.

            “I’ll be the bait,” Shiro said, with an air of finality. “Haggar’s dealt with me before, and Lotor’s been itching for a fight. And I’m supposed to serve as a distraction, anyway. Hunk, I’ll need you backing me up.”

            “As long as I’m not the bait,” Hunk said. “You guys are seriously scary sometimes with how often you wanna run headfirst into danger.”

            “Don’t act like you wouldn’t do it for Shay,” Lance interjected.

            Hunk’s face flushed.

            “So now that that’s settled,” Allura said, trying to reign back in the conversation, “we’ll need to choose a location.”

            “I suggest a mostly-empty planet,” Hunk said. “That way, civilian casualties are kept to a minimum.”

            “Are we sure Lotor will come to an empty planet? There’s gonna be nothing in it for him. Except for the possibility of kicking Shiro’s butt,” Pidge said.

            “We’ll need to find a planet with a people who can help us,” Allura said. “Coran, pull up the list of planets Lotor hasn’t yet attacked that are just outside the immediate vicinity.”

            Coran obliged without hesitation, and seconds later, a list appeared in the windows of the bridge. Allura activated the universal star map, highlighting the listed planets in yellow. There was one planet in particular that Allura focused in on, which was not so much as one planet, but rather a cluster of very small planets.

            “This is Tarvin,” Allura said. “Admittedly, I’ve never personally had contact with their people. My father did, back before Altea was destroyed. My knowledge of them is limited. What I do know is that these planets decided, as civilization was established, that the planets were too small to stand on their own, and they banded together to form a republic.”

            “So, do you think we can get them to form an alliance with us?” Shiro asked.

            “Hopefully,” Allura said. “If my memory serves correctly, they seemed to be a very peaceful people. I’m sure they would enjoy having the protection of Voltron.”

            “How much time do you think we have to get to them?” Pidge asked.

            “More than three quintents, actually,” Coran answered, before anyone else could. “And that’s with our predictions updated from before. We’ve actually got closer to five or six quintents to work on this.”

            “Good,” Shiro said. “There’s no way we’re giving up Voltron, so that whole three quintents thing doesn’t make a difference to us. That leaves us with plenty of time to train and establish an alliance with these people.”

            “What about the other planets that the Galra are gonna take over in that time?” Hunk spoke up. “They’ve been taking out nearly three or four a day. That’s a lot of planets. Are we just going to leave them defenseless?”

            “We can try contacting Kolivan again and updating him on the situation,” Shiro offered. “We’ll also talk to Nivon, and see if they can spare any fleets, now that the invasion on their planet’s over with.”

            “We should at least try and save a few more planets, shouldn’t we?” Lance found himself asking. “More allies, right? And less planets that we’ll have to free from Galra occupation later? Or like, avenge?”

            Shiro and Allura glanced at each other, before Allura said, “We’ll see if we can get into contact with a few of the planets closer to the Galra advances than Tarvin, but still far enough away where we’ll have time to establish an alliance. Some planets are more stubborn than others, and we got lucky on for quick peace on Nivon, what with the early attack.”

            This answer satisfied Lance enough. He nodded, leaning back into Keith again.

            “Why don’t you all take few hours to rest up before we get to training?” Shiro suggested. “We just came off of a battle, and we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

            Nobody seemed to object to this; Pidge, Hunk, Keith, and Lance all started out of the bridge, leaving Allura, Coran, and Shiro to deal with contacting nearby planets. Hunk broke off for the kitchen, to go bake away his stress. Pidge offered to join him, noting that she’d just need to make a quick stop in her room for her laptop.

            That left Lance and Keith.

            “Wanna go hit the training deck?” Lance asked. “I wanna work on some shooting stuff, and maybe improve at close combat.”

            Keith shrugged. “Sure.”

            And off they went.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

            The Galran—ugh, no, she was not a Galran, she was a traitorous coward. The Marmorite—that was better—who’d spit in Lotor’s hand on the bridge the previous quintent had found a way out of her chains. Or, more precisely, had figured out how to use her chains to take down the two guards flanking her, and now lashed out the chains at Lotor. The crowd roared as one chain caught Lotor across the cheek, the other one wrapping around his wrist. Lotor grit his teeth and wrapped his hand around the chain, giving it a tug so hard that the Marmorite stumbled. Lotor thrust with his blade and managed a shallow stab in her gut before she pulled back.

            When Lotor’s footing slipped, the crowd lost it.

            How dare they.

            He hadn’t anticipated an arena fight with a prisoner who was supposed to be executed. The two guards were still unconscious on the ground after being choked out, and the Marmorite used this to her advantage, evading Lotor in such a way that he was forced to stumble his way over their bodies. He should have ended them both with a swipe of his sword, for being so horrible at their jobs that neither one of them could subdue a prisoner in chains, but he had more important matters.

            In hindsight, he should have called in other guards, but he’d been sure this was going to be a quick execution, and hadn’t bothered with the extra security. Maybe after the escape of the Paladins, he should have been more cautious. No doubt, there were some aboard his ship that probably thought that—he would track those people down and give them a piece of his mind.

            “Stand down!” Lotor ordered the Marmorite, and he didn’t quite know what he expected to come of the order, just that it wasn’t for the Marmorite to actually listen. She stood a good number of feet away from him, breathing hard, staring him down.

            It was almost as though she was challenging him to come and get her. And Lotor almost did, almost stepped forward, until he caught the way her eyes flicked to the ground near his feet. He looked down, a melee trap set up. Just one foot forward would have put him right into it. He raised his eyes to her and reached down. He picked up the loop of chain, and before the Marmorite could react quickly enough, he threw it and jerked hard.

            The Marmorite went down, clawing at the chains around her neck, suddenly struggling to breathe. Lotor stalked toward her, staring her in the eye as he came to stand over her. Without a second thought, he plunged his sword into her throat, and was met with a spurt of blood. The Marmorite’s eyes were still open, locked onto him, glazed over.

            His bloodthirsty smile had been the last thing she’d ever seen.

            Good.

            Lotor turned to his subjects screaming in the stands, raising his hands in victory.

            “Vrepit Sa!” he cried, and as always, the crowd echoed it back to him.

            Nine Blade members eliminated.

            Six to go.

            The bots on the training deck weren’t programmed for every kind of attack.

            That was how Keith found himself on his back, his arms around Lance’s neck in a chokehold while Lance struggled to break free. Keith had suggested to him to train with a blade, but Lance had refused, arguing that on a battlefield, he’d just have his bayard—he’d be lucky to get his hands on a blade. If he were to go up against the Galra, most of them were equipped with blasters. Only Lotor and prisoners in the arena fights had blades.

            Keith rolled, so that Lance was on his stomach and Keith was on top of him, straddling him. Keith let one arm go and grabbed his knife from where it was sheathed on his back, where he’d put it after he’d swiped it from his room on the way to the training deck. He pressed the blade as lightly as he could against Lance’s neck, just to let him know that for the fourth round in a row, Keith had managed to secure a victory.

            Lance groaned, and shifted underneath Keith. Keith let go of him completely, and rolled off of him so that Lance could get up. Lance did so painstakingly, and when he did, he took a moment to stare at his bayard, shame practically engraved in his features. Keith, sitting cross-legged on the floor, frowned.

            “Hey,” he said, “everyone knows blasters aren’t really made for close combat. And you were doing great when the bots were attacking us.”

            “Yeah, but the bots don’t have free will or the ability to think,” Lance responded with a long sigh. “Can we go again?”

            Keith shook his head and got to his feet, sheathing his knife with one hand and taking the hand Lance stuck out to help him up with the other. 

            “You need to rest,” Keith said. “We’ve been going for almost two hours. We’re gonna have a lot of work to do soon, and you can’t be exhausted if we get into a real fight with the Galra.”

            Lance changed his bayard back to its standard form and hooked it to the side of his suit. He sighed again, this time in a much more melodramatic fashion, throwing one arm over his forehead.

            “Oh, how exhausted I am! You’re right, Keith! I can hardly stand! Carry me to the lounge!”

            Lance threw himself backwards into Keith’s arms, face going deadpan as soon as Keith looked down and made eye contact. “I’m serious here, Keith. Carry me. This is what you get for suggesting we quit.”

            Keith rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, and stood Lance upright. Then he bent over slightly and gestured toward his back. “Get on, McClain.”

            Lance climbed onto Keith’s back in piggy-back fashion, wrapping his arms around Keith’s neck and his legs around Keith’s torso. Keith clutched his thighs, and together, they started out of the training deck and down to the lounge. Pidge and Hunk were already there when they arrived, Pidge still going at something on her laptop, while Hunk lay sprawled out, glancing at the screen every so often when Pidge made a noise.

            They both looked up when Lance and Keith entered.

            “Oh come on,” Pidge groaned. “Are you two suddenly incapable of going anywhere without the other? Lance, you have functioning legs!”

            “Um, excuse me, but it seems to me like you and Hunk don’t do anything by yourselves, either!” Lance said.

            Pidge threw her hands up. “It’s either hang out with you two where you’re practically dry-humping,  hang out with Shiro and Allura while they have eye sex right in front of Coran, or hang out with Hunk, who’s currently the only not-disgusting person on this team!”

            Lance, Hunk, and Keith all gaped.

            “You’re fourteen!” Lance shouted.

            “Yeah, Pidge, while I had the same thought, you could have worded that a lot better,” Hunk said.

            “Fourteen, not four!” Pidge argued.

            “That still doesn’t make it okay! You wouldn’t let a four-year-old or a fourteen-year-old get drunk, would you?” Lance shot back, as Keith set him down.

            “Okay, you’re one to talk, Lance—”

            “SO PIDGE,” Keith interrupted, sitting down next to her, “what are you working on?”

            Pidge glared at Keith, fully aware that the question was asked, in part, just because the subject needed changing, but she answered him anyway. “I’ve been logging every fight we’ve been in with the Galra to see if I can pick out an attack pattern we haven’t noticed yet. Lotor and Zarkon have different styles, but it’s still a little unclear what the difference is.”

            “The difference is Lotor is obsessed with me, but his dad was obsessed with Shiro,” Lance deadpanned, sitting down behind Keith and wrapping his arms back around Keith’s neck.

            “Some days I still wonder why,” Pidge muttered under her breath. “Anyway, there are two major differences that I’ve noticed so far. The first is that Lotor has offered us chances to live, whereas Zarkon was straight-up gonna murder us.”

            “Except for Keith,” Hunk added, peering at the computer. “Pidge even made a note about it: Keith must die.”

            Pidge shrugged. “He wants you dead, I don’t know how else to put it.”

            Keith rolled his eyes.

            “Anyway,” Pidge went on, “the second difference is that Zarkon had a slow takeover process, and he usually turned planets into mining colonies, until Voltron came back, and he focused all of his energy on attacking us. Lotor just keeps taking over planets, at such a rate that we can’t hope to save every planet. He keeps offering us chances to hand over Voltron, but he’s not actively attacking. Only if we happen to run into him.”

            “Like he was hoping would happen on Nivon,” Lance said.

            Pidge nodded. “Exactly. He may be a weirdo, but his method is strong. He’s got a pretty systematic way of going about it, whereas Zarkon was all over the place trying to get to us.”

            “So how is this supposed to help if we already have the assassination plan in place?” Keith asked.

            “I mean…it helps in that we know more of what to expect, rather than just charging in blind and analyzing things on the fly, which, I mean, I could do, but…it’s just so we know,” Pidge answered.

            “D’you think if we take down Haggar, Lotor’ll get angry enough to just start outright attacking us?” Lance piped up. “Like, if we take out his most powerful druid, do you think he’ll realize that he’s been so distracted taking on other planets, he hasn’t been paying close enough attention to us? And what about the planets he’s already taken over? He can’t leave his troops there forever, if he keeps going at the rate he is. He’ll need to draw them off of a planet that’s been under his rule for a while to go conquer a new one, because his army’s not endless…right?”

            Pidge paused as she took this in, looking between Keith and Hunk, who both seemed just as stunned as she did.

            “You might actually be onto something,” she said.

            She pulled her laptop closer to her face and hunched over the screen, fingers tapping away at the keyboard. “All this time we’ve been focusing on making allies with planets that haven’t yet been taken over—which isn’t necessarily a bad thing—but we’ve been overlooking potential allies from people who have already been taken over.”

            “Like the Balmerans!” Hunk said.

            “Or the Olkari,” Pidge added. “We’ve gotta remind Shiro, Allura, and Coran about them. In everything going on, they probably forgot we have more allies than just the Blade of Marmora.”

            “If they’re even still our allies,” Lance muttered, propping his chin up on Keith’s neck. “Sorry, dude, I know you have like, connections with them, but Kolivan is pissed.”

            “It’s fine,” Keith replied quietly, leaning his head into Lance’s. “They’re not the most important people to me.”

            Allura was as strong as Haggar, and Lance had a difficult time trying to fight her off. He’d told her right before they started the training exercise to not hold back, and hold back she did not. While he tried to fight her off in his head, with no weapon but his own hands, he found he could do nothing with his physical body, which stood rooted to its spot, blaster in hand. When the first of the training bots charged him, he barely dodged left before the bot knocked him down with a bo staff.

            He took control of his own mind long enough to roll away from a second hit, but then Allura bore down, striking hard and fast with lightning she was still honing—and if this was her still honing her powers, then Lance didn’t want to tango with her when she had full control.

            Allura relented only when Lance could not even bring himself to defend anymore, and left his head seconds later.

            Just as the bot smacked him in the stomach with the bo staff.

            Lance grunted, hand going to his stomach as he staggered back to his feet and called, “End training sequence!” just before the bot could come at him again. The bot froze and dematerialized, just as it had before. Allura came up next to him and patted him on the shoulder.

            “You did well, Lance. It’s a difficult thing to master.”

            Lance had a sneaking feeling Allura was half-lying to him to make him feel better, but he just smiled at her and accepted the compliment. Then she turned away from him and toward the other Paladins, who were all watching from the sideline. Lance was not surprised to find Keith at the very edge of the fighting space, bayard in blade form.

            “So you see,” Allura said, “as neither Lance nor I could fully control his body, he mostly stayed in one spot. This is only a good thing if you’re alone. However, since the training bot was here, Lance’s life was still in danger. If Haggar were able to enter his mind and get into a fight with him, in the midst of battle, he would likely have been taken out by a Galra soldier. This is why it’s important we don’t walk into this battle solo.”

            She eyed Keith as she said this. Keith crossed his arms, bayard returning to standard form. He knew this, of course. Sometimes he just…couldn’t help it.

            “Now you also see that defending against someone in your head is no easy task,” Allura went on. “Not only do you have to fight them off, you’ve also got to keep control of your body.”

            “So if you can do that to us, can you also do it to Lotor, maybe?” Hunk asked.

            “Perhaps,” Allura answered, “but I don’t know what kind of training he’s had, if any. This is as much of a training exercise for me as it is for you. This is also why we need to take down Haggar first. If I try to get into Lotor’s head and she’s present, I’m not sure what she’ll do in retaliation.”

            “…What if we lured her into my head?” Shiro asked, almost hesitatingly.

            “No,” Keith said at once.

            “Hear me out, Keith. If we get her into my head, I can draw her into a long enough fight for Lance and Allura to take her out, and Hunk can cover me from any other threats. I know how to keep a fight going in my head. I did it once with Zarkon,” Shiro replied.

            “You what?” Allura asked incredulously.

            Shiro paused, glancing between her surprised expression, and the dumbfounded looks on the faces of the other Paladins. “Did I…not…tell anyone about that?”

            “You astral projected and fought Zarkon and didn’t tell anyone?!” Lance shouted.

            “I think that was the day you guys brought home the cow. We had a lot going on that day,” Shiro replied, raising his hands defensively.

            “When you said you were bonding with Black, we didn’t think you intended to fight the fucking emperor!” Pidge shot back.

            Shiro gave her a warning look, and Pidge returned the look with a narrowing of her eyes and a raising of her chin that said call me out Shiro, I fucking dare you.

            Shiro did not call her out.

            “Okay,” Allura said slowly, “while that confession is still incredibly troubling—”

            “I won the fight!”

            “And then you still disappeared!” Keith interjected, jabbing a finger in Shiro’s direction. “I was traumatized, Shiro!”

            “Hey, guys, just take some deep breaths,” Hunk interrupted, stepping between Shiro and Keith. “We’re a team, and yes, Shiro has a bad habit of disappearing on us, but that doesn’t mean his plan is automatically bad.”

            “I’m sorry,” Keith muttered, turning away. “It’s just…”

            He sighed, releasing a frustrated breath. “Never mind. Let’s just keep going.”

            “No, wait,” Shiro said. “Allura, can I…?”

            “Go ahead,” Allura said.

            Shiro nodded, and motioned for her and Lance to join him, Keith, Hunk, and Pidge.

            “Listen up, guys. It’s coming to my attention that as a team, lately, we haven’t had a chance to just sit around and talk about something that isn’t related to being the defenders of the universe,” Shiro started, hand coming down on Keith’s shoulder. “People have been bottling emotions and putting on a brave face because they think that’s what they’re supposed to do. They’ve been putting aside their feelings in fear that they would get in the way of a mission. That’s not what being a team is. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to do something.”

            He looked to Lance, who gave him a tight nod.

            “We’re going down to the lounge,” Shiro went on, “and if anyone wants to get anything off their chest, you’ll have the opportunity to do so. This is going to be a judgment-free activity. Does everyone understand? We can’t say we’re a team if we can’t be completely open and supportive of each other.”

            “Wasn’t this rule number one of being a Paladin or something?” Hunk asked.

            “Yeah,” Shiro said, “but we’ve never done something like this. We’ve been busy. But now we have time.”

            Without further delay, Shiro started out of the training deck, Pidge and Hunk following without question. Allura and Lance followed, but Lance stopped when he noticed Keith hanging back, staring at the floor.

            “Hey,” Lance said, backtracking to Keith and putting his arm around Keith’s shoulders. “You comin’?”

            Keith didn’t answer right away. He stayed in place, and before Lance knew what was happening, Keith sniffled. Lance brought his other arm around Keith, pulling Keith into a crushing hug as Keith buried his face in Lance’s shoulder.

            They must have stood around for a solid three minutes before Keith started talking, not bothering to draw back from Lance. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

            “Don’t be sorry,” Lance said. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean—you don’t have to do it in front of everyone else. But talk to me? If you don’t want to, I understand but—you know what I mean.”

            Keith nodded. Lance was the one who broke the hug, although he still kept an arm around Keith as they sank slowly to the floor. Keith’s head fell on Lance’s shoulder, partly so he had an excuse not to look Lance in the eyes.

            “What’s up, Keith?” Lance asked.

            Keith took in a shuddering breath, trying to steady himself.

            “I’ve been through a lot,” Keith started. “And most of the time, I went through it alone. It’s hard for me to form attachments to people.”

            He took Lance’s free hand in his, and started playing with Lance’s fingers.

            “Every time I do form an attachment to someone…they end up disappearing on me. Or getting hurt. It never fails. One time, I even convinced myself I was cursed. It’s been really tough. The first person to go was my mom. You know all about that. She’s Galra, I still don’t know who she is, or if she’s out there. All I know is I grew up with all these kids talking about how great their moms are, and…I could never relate.”

            A shack in the desert. Sunrise over the sands, streaming in through the thin curtains over the windows. His dad, always doing something with that pin board. More often than not, he’d forget to wake Keith up for school.

            “Then it was my dad,” Keith said. “Just a few months after I joined the Garrison, he vanished. I don’t know where he went. He never told me. I don’t know if he left on his own to go find my mom, or if he got kidnapped, or…”

            Keith stopped playing with Lance’s hand and shut his eyes. “All I know is one day I came home to tell him I made fighter class, and he just wasn’t there.”

            An empty shack in the desert. Another sunrise as Keith took the speeder out. There was no one to stop him from coming and going as he pleased, flying over sandy dunes, trying to track down whatever signal was out there. Maybe he’d find something new that he could tell Shiro about.

            “When I first got to the Garrison, I met Shiro, and he became like family. When my dad went missing, he was the first person I told, and he just kind of…adopted me from that point, I guess. He’s always been like an older brother. Someone I could go to, you know? The day he told me he got chosen for the Kerberos mission, I wanted to be mad at him. He was leaving me. But he promised he’d come back, and he’d tell me all about his adventures in space.”

            Keith laughed bitterly. “Oh, boy, I had no clue…”

            A remote through a TV screen. A slamming door. Cold night air biting at Keith as he sped over the sands on his speeder, finding cliffs, taking dives with the bike, seeing just how far he could go. Maybe he would never come back.

            “That’s when I snapped. When they told us pilot error cost the Kerberos mission,” Keith said. “I knew there was no way it could have been pilot error. I punched Iverson in the face, and they expelled me. So it was just me, all alone. Me, and the Blue Lion’s energy. Everyone was gone. Mom. Dad. Shiro. I couldn’t go back to the Garrison.”

            Those first weeks in space with the team. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge had their own little trio. Allura and Coran were the last of their kind. And Shiro. He had gone through something awful, and Keith knew there was no way he could ever truly comprehend the horrors Shiro had been through.

            “When I joined this team, I was afraid,” Keith admitted. “We started fighting a war. How was I supposed to get attached to anyone if I knew there was a chance they could die? …But I couldn’t help it. Everyone got closer, and Shiro was back, and then he kept having near-death experiences, and then he disappeared on me again and…”

            Fucking hell.

            Keith’s body shuddered as a fresh round of sobs broke free. Lance pulled him in closer. He didn’t speak, didn’t pass judgment—he let Keith cry. One of his hands strayed to Keith’s hair to stroke it. He’d done this enough times for his siblings. He could even recall doing it once for Pidge, after one particularly nasty battle while Shiro was still missing, and they still hadn’t found her brother. Now, he would do it for Keith, in the hopes it would help him, too.

            “I can’t lose him again,” Keith choked out. “And I can’t lose you, either.”

            “You won’t lose me,” Lance whispered to him.

            “I almost did!” Keith shouted, pulling back.

            Lance didn’t let go of him, hands braced against Keith’s biceps.

            “You helped me get through everything when I had to pilot Black. And then I fell for you, and I thought you didn’t like me back, but I still cared! I told you why I went with you onto Lotor’s ship: I needed to keep you safe. I needed to do everything I could not to lose someone else important to me, so when Haggar got to you…and then you almost got taken out by an ion cannon just hours ago…”

            “Shhh,” Lance said, and brought his hands down to Keith’s. “That’s done with. I’m right here. See?”

            He tried for a smile, and when Keith met his gaze, he couldn’t help but smile, too.

            “That’s better,” Lance murmured. “Now, come on, the others are probably waiting for us.”

            Lance stood up slowly, never once letting go of Keith. When they were both back on their feet, Lance dropped his hand into Keith’s, and they headed down to the lounge with the others.

            “Hey, Lance?” Keith said tentatively.

            “Yeah?” Lance looked sideways at Keith.

            “…Thank you.”

            Lance grinned wider, squeezing Keith’s hand. “I’m always here for you, mullet.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

            The life support systems in his father’s healing chambers buzzed incessantly as Lotor stepped through the door. At this varga, the druids were gone, having been summoned by Haggar to work on some new project to get the Voltron Lions back in the possession of the Empire. No one here to watch over his father. No one here to make sure an assassin from the Blade of Marmora could be stopped in case they got any bright ideas. No one—just him and his father.

            “I bet you’re regretting many things right now, Father,” Lotor said, swaggering up to his father’s bedside. Zarkon didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. If Lotor didn’t know that his father could hear his words, he probably wouldn’t have even come here at all.

            “I’d like you to know I’ve made incredible progress. Multiple planets. Nine members of the Blade of Marmora. The near-death of the Red Paladin. And for a brief time, I had the Blue Lion and Blue Paladin under my control. The weakest link of Team Voltron. But you never thought to exploit the team’s friendships, did you?” Lotor went on. “No, you were so hung up on your Black Lion, that you let the others slip through the cracks. You missed such a…beautiful asset to the Empire.”

            Lotor’s mind involuntarily flashed back to the Blue Paladin, and the last time Lotor had seen him in person. The interrogation room. Gun in hands. A smile lighting up his whole face as he realized he had free will again—a free will that, as he’d wrestled to keep it, drove him to shoot at Lotor, a blast that would have been fatal had Lotor’s reflexes not kicked in at the last moment.

            The memory of his rage surged up. He shouldn’t have let go of the Red Paladin. He should have used him as a body shield to absorb the shot, and let the Blue Paladin live with that memory. Maybe he would have broken, right then and there, and Lotor could have swooped in to pick up the pieces and reassemble them. Maybe the Blue Paladin would have been at his side now, to witness everything, to witness what would be the universe’s best-kept secret.

            “Haggar still has faith in you,” Lotor finally continued, unsheathing his sword. “Some days, I think she has more faith in you than me. Does she think of me as you do, Father? A mistake? An accident waiting to happen? Even after all I’ve accomplished, do you think she still holds me in such low regard, just as you did?”

            Lotor twirled his sword in his hands.

            “I paid plenty of attention to your lessons, Father. Do you remember the most important one? You made sure to stress this one: weakness in the Empire would not be tolerated. You said weakness is disease, and disease must be eradicated before it can spread. And yet, look at you now. You cannot even sustain yourself. Do you know what you are?”

            Silence answered Lotor’s question. He approached the main machine, keeping all of the other ones running, and slashed it, sending a shower of sparks raining down, a small explosion as the circuits fried, and the whole system went down. Zarkon’s body jerked in its bed, ragged gasps escaping the emperor, as high-pitched whine started up. It was supposed to alert anyone standing watch that Zarkon’s vitals were failing, but Lotor was the only one here.

            Lotor felt his father’s gaze fall on him. He smirked, and tossed his sword up into the air. The hilt fell back into his waiting palm, and Lotor brandished the blade at his father.

            “You’re weak.”

            He stalked toward his father’s bedside and held the blade over his father’s throat.

            “You’ve done nothing but demean me and make me out to be the biggest laughingstock of the Empire,” Lotor said. “You’ve dismissed my plans and held Haggar in higher regard than your own son. I’ll have you know that I’ll be the one to bring the universe to its knees. The Empire will reign supreme under my lead. Good night, Father.”

            Zarkon made a series of choking noises, body thrashing against his restraints. Lotor’s smirk never once vanished from his face as he plunged his sword into his father’s throat, blood spurting from the wound. Within moments, all resistance stopped, his father stopped choking, the high-pitched whine got louder.

            Lotor yanked his sword out of the wound and sheathed it.

            “It was a shame I had to do that, Father,” Lotor called over his shoulder, as he started out of the room. “Maybe you should have been paying closer attention to your son.”

            Lotor opened the door and poked his head into the hallway, but no one was here. The guards had been called away for some emergency on the floor below (all Lotor had had to do was bust a control board in one of the control rooms), the druids were still with Haggar (good, let the witch stay busy), and everyone else had their assigned tasks to do, as the ship drew closer to the planetary chain calling itself Tarvin.

            Lotor strode into the hallway and shut the door behind him. Nobody had seen him enter. Nobody had seen him exit. All that was left to do was to pin this one a member of the Blade of Marmora. It wouldn’t be hard to do, after all. They’d undermined Lotor before, so it would come as no surprise to anyone if one of them had been sneaky enough to kill his father.

            He wondered when word of this would reach the Paladins.

            When it came Keith’s time to explain to everyone what was going on with him, as they sat in one large circle in the lounge, he gave them a much-abridged version of everything he told Lance. He explained how afraid he was to lose someone close to him, explained the curse he’d once convinced himself he’d had, and explained that he cared a lot more than he let on because of this. The whole time, he sat with his body pressed against Lance, while Lance held him close with an arm around his shoulders. When he was finished, he waited for everyone else’s responses.

            Most importantly, Shiro’s.

            Shiro was silent for a long time, lips parted slightly, brain still trying to process what Keith had just told the group. He’d known about his father and mother, of course he had. He’d been there when Keith had been hallucinating, when they’d first met the Blade of Marmora. But evidently, it hadn’t really occurred to him what his disappearances had done to Keith.

            “I’m so sorry,” was what he managed.

            Keith smiled thinly at him and nodded, afraid that if he started talking, he’d lose the sense of cool he’d managed to keep so far. Now that he didn’t need to say anything else, his head came back down on Lance’s shoulder, seeming to have claimed that spot. When no one else spoke up, Lance shifted, trying to straighten himself out as much as possible without jostling Keith.

            “I guess it’s my turn,” Lance said, looking out at the others in the room.

            He tensed, and Keith reached over, grabbing Lance’s free hand. He started playing with his fingers again, and it had just the effect he expected: Lance relaxed a little bit, knowing that Keith was right beside him.

            “I mean, there isn’t much you guys don’t already know,” Lance started. “I guess for a while I felt…kinda like a seventh wheel? But, I mean, obviously that’s not the case anymore.”

            He dropped his gaze down to where Keith played with his hand, the corners of his mouth turning up just the slightest.

            “I guess now all that’s bugging me is everything that happened, you know? It’s not fun having Haggar in your head. Or almost killing someone you care about. Or having to spend almost every waking minute of your day walking around with a creepy prince who apparently still has a thing for you even after you tried to kill him and made it really clear that you hate him.”

            There.

            It was out in the open now: Lotor was bothering him a lot more than he should’ve been.

            Keith wove his fingers into Lance’s and squeezed their hands together, just to let Lance know that he was right there, that he wasn’t alone in this, that he knew exactly what Lance was talking about and would never not be there for him. Lance swallowed hard and squeezed back, waiting for the others to respond.

            “Don’t worry, Lance,” Hunk said. “We’re not letting him get anywhere near you. We’re gonna take him down.”

            Lance smiled wryly at Hunk—leave it to his best friend to react first.

            Before anyone else could react, though, Allura stiffened where she sat, her earrings glowing. Faintly, everyone could hear snatches of Coran shouting from the bridge. Something about Zarkon.

            Shiro, sitting closest to Allura, caught the word dead.

            “What’s going on?” Keith asked, sitting up straighter, letting go of Lance’s hand so he could angle himself toward Shiro and Allura. Lance brought his arm tighter around Keith’s shoulders.

            Allura didn’t respond right away, face slack, as though she were still trying to process everything.

            “I’m not sure how to react to this,” Allura whispered.

            “Allura?” Pidge asked.

            “Allura, please remember, this is an exercise where we talk,” Hunk said, worry overshadowing any joking demeanor.

            Allura stood up so quickly she almost fell over, looking over each of the Paladins sitting in the room with her. Shiro shifted on the couch, body tense, prepared to rush to Allura’s aid if need be.

            “I didn’t think this day would come so quickly, or without our intervention,” Allura said.

            “Would you please just tell us and stop being dramatic?!” Lance blurted before he could stop himself.

            He shrank back almost immediately after the words escaped him, hand flying over his mouth. Allura didn’t seem to mind—whatever it was, it had shaken her too much to leave room for anything else.

            “Zarkon…he’s been killed.”

            “What?!” came the chorus from Pidge, Hunk, and Lance, while Keith and Shiro were stunned into silence.

            “How? Where’s this information coming from?” Shiro managed, after a few heartbeats.

            Allura shook her head. “I-I don’t know. I mean—it’s—why don’t we all just go to the bridge?”

            Her voice shook with each word. Shiro stood up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. He gestured for all of the other Paladins to join them, as he ushered Allura out first. Pidge, Hunk, Lance, and Keith hesitated, taking the moments after they’d gone to stare at each other.

            “So…does anyone else realize what this means?” Keith asked quietly.

            His eyes ended up on Lance.

            As they usually did.

            “It means we have one less person to take out, and whoever just killed Zarkon did us a favor?” Hunk tried.

            “No,” Keith said. “Well, yes, but that’s not what I was getting at.”

            Lance suddenly understood—Keith could tell from the way he seemed to lock up, gaze going distant.

            Pidge, having also pieced it together, was the one that voiced it: “That means Lotor is the emperor. I mean, he was already acting like he was, but now he really is. There’s no one to stop him. He won’t have to worry about having to answer to his father.”

            “Mmhmm,” Keith said, “and it also means that somehow, someone got close enough to actually kill Zarkon.”

            “Hey!” Shiro suddenly called into the room, poking his head in the doorway, “are you guys coming? Because there’s stuff you all need to see happening on the bridge. I know our training exercise got cut short, and we’ll get back to it when we can, but this is kind of important.”

            “We’re coming,” Pidge said evenly. “Give us a second, Shiro.”

            Shiro darted back out of the doorway.

            Pidge stood up first, out of the four Paladins left in the room. Hunk was the second, but neither of them left. They waited until Keith and Lance were standing, and even then, nobody made a move for the door.

            “Listen,” Pidge said softly. “You guys are like my older brothers. I care about you guys a lot. And, yeah, I act annoyed all the time. But please, come to me if something is wrong. I don’t like seeing you guys hurt. And especially not because of some weirdo prince. I’m serious. Come to me.”

            Lance, Keith, and Hunk looked between each other, and then back down at Pidge, before engulfing her in a tight group hug. Lance, teary-eyed, managed to squeeze himself in closest to her, and Pidge wrapped her arms around his waist. Keith and Hunk went around the both of them.

            Nobody broke apart until Pidge started choking.

            “Okay, guys, stop trying to—” she choked again, “—kill me! Okay! That’s enough!”

            Allura sent Shiro back to the lounge the tick she noticed that the other Paladins hadn’t immediately followed them. He’d been hesitant to leave her, but she’d brushed him off. This was her castle, and she was more than capable of handling herself. All things he knew, of course. But he was still reluctant to go, until Allura pointedly started walking away from him, back to the bridge alone.

            The moment he was out of sight, Allura let the tears come.

            The man who’d killed her father and her planet was dead.

            Zarkon was really gone.

            Allura’s only regret was that neither she nor one of the Paladins was the one to get the job done. Some part of her knew it was cruel, knew she should’ve just let it go and focused on the fact that her unstable ex-boyfriend was now fully in command of the Empire, but there was some part of her that refused to be pried away.

            Your father’s killer is gone, and that’s all that matters.

            Allura made it to the bridge ahead of everyone else. Coran was already there, going through the many reports coming out from nearby planets, all about one broadcast they’d all received, that was slowly making its rounds across the universe.

            Coran looked up with wet eyes when Allura entered the bridge.

            “Zarkon’s truly gone,” he said. “They say it was at the hands of a member of the Blade of Marmora.”

            Allura nodded, numbness taking over as she rubbed the heels of her hands over her eyes, drying up the tears. Coran noticed—Coran always noticed—and came to her at once, sweeping her into a hug. Allura squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into Coran’s shoulder.

            “I know, I know,” Coran murmured, rubbing circles into her back.

            They were still standing like that when Shiro reentered the bridge alone. He said nothing, quietly excusing himself to his chair.

            This was the second teary hug Shiro had stumbled upon.

            He’d gone back a second time to get the other Paladins, after finding that they still weren’t following. This time, he’d peered in the room before saying anything, and was glad he did. He’d found the four youngest members of Team Voltron clutching each other tightly, faint sniffles coming from somewhere near the center of their hug—he still wasn’t sure whether or not it was Pidge or Lance, and he hadn’t stuck around to find out.

            Some days it escaped him, how young the other Paladins were. They were just kids, out here fighting an intergalactic war. None of them had asked for this life. They’d just all been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

            Shiro sometimes wondered what would have happened if the mission to Kerberos had carried on as planned. If he and the Holts had made it back to Earth in one piece with their ice samples. If he’d never been imprisoned by the Galra for an entire year. Would Keith still have been in the Garrison? Would Pidge have ever joined up in the first place? Would the group have ever come together?

            Probably not.

            These kids were Shiro’s family, and picturing a life without them was difficult, but if he had the ability to go back in time and change things…he would. No matter how much he loved Team Voltron, he wouldn’t ever wish them to go through the trauma they all had. They deserved better lives than this. Yeah, sure, the Garrison was a military organization, and joining up with the military always had consequences, but he didn’t think any of them had anticipated leading lives like the ones they had now when they’d first signed up.

            Shiro flicked his eyes to Allura and Coran.

            Allura was no older than Shiro, probably a year or two younger, and she’d lost everything. Her family. Her home. Coran was all she had left. Shiro wouldn’t have blamed her for breaking down, and yet every day she stood up to be at the forefront of a war that would serve her almost no benefit.

            When this was all over with, where would she go? Back to Arus? Or would she find somewhere else to settle and live out the rest of her life?

            And what would she even be doing now, if she hadn’t met Team Voltron? If they’d never uncovered the Blue Lion in the desert? Would she have still be in her cryopod, waiting to wake up, still on Arus? Or would the Galra have come to Earth, taken the Blue Lion, and then used it to find the Castle of Lions? Would she have been a Galran prisoner? Would Coran?

            Focus, Shiro reminded himself, shutting his eyes.

            They had a mission at hand. Multiple missions. Too many missions.

            The Empire was still taking over planets, and they were still waiting for Team Voltron to inevitably not hand over the Lions in three days. Now that Zarkon was apparently out of the picture, Lotor had no one to answer to but himself.

            And Voltron.

            “Oh, Sh-Shiro,” Allura said.

            Shiro turned in his seat to see Allura pulling away from Coran, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “I-I didn’t see you—”

            “It’s all right, Princess,” Shiro said softly.

            “Where are the others?” Allura asked.

            She still couldn’t bring her voice to hold a note of impatience or exasperation.

            “They’re coming,” Shiro replied.

            Almost as if on cue, the other Paladins walked into the room. Keith and Lance were no longer holding onto each other, but Pidge was riding on Lance’s back, while Keith and Hunk flanked the two of them. Lance set Pidge down as soon as they came to Shiro, Allura, and Coran.

            “So what’s going on with the Empire?” Hunk spoke up.

            “I’ve got the broadcast right here,” Coran said.

            He set to work at his control board, and within a few seconds, a screen filled the bridge window. The broadcast was of Lotor, of course, standing on the bridge of his ship, two rows of guards standing behind him—there had to be at least twenty guards, if not more.

            “Citizens of this most glorious Empire!”

            He was probably speaking to no one but a camera, and still had the nerve to speak like he was addressing the crowded arena right before a gladiator match.

            “I speak to you to bring you a message of the utmost importance. My father, the great Emperor Zarkon, has been killed.”

            Another dramatic pause.

            “He doesn’t look too torn up about it,” Hunk remarked, narrowing his eyes.

            “Just this afternoon, members of the Blade of Marmora coordinated his murder. While my father was alone and vulnerable, these traitors snuck into his chambers and killed him in cold blood. This is the final act against the Empire the Blade of Marmora will have the chance to commit.”

            The Paladins, Allura, and Coran all looked between each other.

            “Did Kolivan know about this? Did he say anything about a plan to kill Zarkon?” Keith asked, crossing his arms.

            “No,” Shiro said. “His focus was to bring less attention to the Blade.”

            “As your new Emperor,” Lotor went on—of course he went on, this was a broadcast that had already happened, of course he wasn’t waiting for the Paladins to pick this apart, “I order any and every planet with knowledge of the whereabouts of the Blade of Marmora’s central command to hand over any relevant information at once. Your planets will be spared. Your people will be protected from the disease that is Voltron, as they go about spreading chaos and disorder.”

            “People won’t actually buy that, right?” Hunk said.

            “Oh, people will,” Shiro said. “People will do anything to keep their planet from being destroyed. Especially considering the Galra Empire is massive, and we’re seven people.”

            “Not just seven people,” Allura said. Her voice wavered, just enough to be detected. “We still have the Voltron Alliance.”

            “We’re still outnumbered,” Shiro said, voice softer. “If people can shift the blame to us, just so their planet stays unharmed, they will.”

            “Anyone with information on the whereabouts of Voltron,” Lotor added, “will be rewarded most handsomely. You will be revered throughout the universe for helping to bring down that menace, a root of suffering for so many.”

            “Are you kidding me?” Lance said. “Did he just put a bounty on us?”

            “If we work together, if we come together, we can restore the universe to its former glory,” Lotor said.

            “Former glory?” Hunk muttered.

            “Does he mean the glory that the Galra Empire destroyed?” Lance added.

            “The perpetrators of the heinous crime, the one that has brought me to make this broadcast, will be brought to justice!” Lotor went on. “Let it be known that on this quintent, I swear that the galaxy will flourish, just as my father had intended! We will reign in a new era of glory and triumph! Vrepit Sa!”

            The broadcast ended there.

            “Glory,” Keith said, as if tasting the word. “Yep. I hate that word now, too.”

            Lance was the only one who seemed to understand what that meant, but no one questioned it.

            “Okay. So what does this mean for making allies and liberating planets he’s already taken over?” Pidge asked.

            “It means we need to work fast,” Shiro said. “It also means we need to get into contact with the other members of the Voltron Alliance and see if they can do anything to help rally support.”

            “The Arusians will surely have our support, but as for their military strength…we’ll be receiving little support there,” Allura said. “The Balmerans will also be helpful, but only slightly more so.”

            “The Olkari should be able to do some damage,” Pidge piped up.

            Allura nodded to her.

            “We’ve also got the Nivonians now, and I’m sure there are more people who can help us,” Hunk said.

            “We still have time to get to Tarvin,” Keith said. “Do you think they’ll help us?”

            “They liked my father, if I remember correctly, and they’re a peaceful people. I’m not sure if they’ll help us militarily, but they’ll support us. Hopefully, they can spread the word to other nearby planets,” Allura said. “But we’ll need to get around, too. Coran, what’s the nearest planet that we can get to with time to establish an alliance?”

            Coran pulled up the list of planets yet again, while Allura pulled up the universal star map.

            “Eddul is our best chance,” Coran said. “From the statistics listed here, they’ve got a strong military, and they’ve been anti-Galra for as far back as their data goes.”

            Allura zoomed in on a planet a few quintents’ journey out from Tarvin.

            “We can be there by tomorrow,” Allura said. “Granted they want to see us, of course. Coran, can you try and get into contact with them?”

            “Of course,” Coran said, and within a few ticks, the castle began trying to establish a transmission with the planet.

            “What if they decide to take up the Empire’s offer?” Lance asked.

            Allura pursed her lips. “Hopefully,” she started, “they won’t think to attack us. We’ll have to remain on guard.”

            “Be ready to get to your lions at a moment’s notice,” Shiro added.

            The other Paladins nodded in understanding, just as a face came up on the bridge screens.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

            The face that filled the screen was long and thin, a pale blue-green color. Where the Nivonians hadn’t had necks at all, these people—even more lanky and gangly than Lance, which Keith didn’t really think was possible—had necks that had to comprise at least a foot of their height. They were definitely shorter than the Nivonians, but not by very much. If Keith had to guess, they probably averaged in somewhere just above Shiro’s height.

            Their lank didn’t make them any less intimidating. Keith counted six arms, and briefly wondered if there were more hiding beyond the transmission’s frame. Their hair was not hair, but tentacles. This one had ten, and each one could apparently move of its own accord.

            Their two eyes were striking—deep black scleras, with white, slitted pupils. When this Eddulan’s eyes landed on Keith, Keith tensed up—not enough to be noticeable, but tense all the same. It didn’t exactly help that he was in his Paladin armor and not his jacket, so he had nothing to hide himself under.

            When they opened their mouth to speak, Keith caught sight of four rows of razor-sharp teeth—two on the top, two on the bottom.

            If he was uneasy before, he was even more so now.

            “Salutations,” the Eddulan greeted, with a smile that looked foreign on their face. “I am Cuffili, the President of Eddul’s Jarin Union. I speak to you on behalf of our planet’s Central Peace Committee.”

            “Greetings,” Allura said, with a slight bow of her head. “I am Princess Allura of Altea, and these are the Paladins of Voltron.”

            “The Altea?” Cuffili said in surprise. “Why, I thought its citizens had been lost with the rest of the planet. My apologies, but this is…most surprising.”

            Keith bit his tongue, before he could ask how no one on this planet knew that Allura was alive, when Voltron had been making waves in the Galra Empire for a little while now. Especially when Lo-tool had been making announcements and threats against Voltron almost every other day since he and Lance had escaped.

            “And you said these are the Voltron Paladins?” Cuffili went on. He brought his gaze around to the Paladins a second time, and Keith had to refrain from flinching. Part of him wanted to reach out and take Lance’s hand. The rational side of him held him back. He didn’t like the way this Cuffili person was talking. The less Cuffili knew about his personal life, the better.

            “Yes,” Allura said. “This is Shiro, Pidge, Hunk, Lance, and Keith.”

            Cuffili’s eyes were on Keith a third time.

            One more time and Keith thought he might lose it.

            Snatches of conversation in the background of the transmission made their way through—murmurs, as people observed the Paladins. And then, one loud voice in the back: “These are the people the Empire fears?”

            “Don’t,” Lance hissed from Keith’s right, before Keith could say a word, or even move a muscle.

            Keith was resigned to keeping his arms crossed—he pointedly crossed them tighter.

            “Yes,” Allura said, fighting to keep her voice even and as pleasant as possible. “They’ve fought against the Empire before, and were responsible for bringing down Zarkon—”

            “They did not kill him, however. Is that correct?” someone else in the background interrupted.

            “Silence, Hisar,” Cuffili said, and flashed an apologetic smile at Allura and the rest of the Paladins. “Sincerest apologies, Princess Allura. Many of us spent our formative years of hearing of Voltron being nothing more than a myth. Some merely struggle to accept that the same myth has become truth. But, all that aside—you were the one to send the transmission. For what purpose?”

            Something about this didn’t feel right, but Keith remained silent, narrowed eyes scanning the transmission.

            “We’ve analyzed the Galra Empire’s attack patterns,” Allura said, “and your planet is set to be hit by the Empire within the next two quintents. We seek to establish an alliance. We will aid your planet in fighting back, and in turn, we hope to receive a strong ally in the war against the Empire.”

            Chatter started up in the background again, and this time, Cuffili nodded to Allura, and then turned his back on the transmission to speak with the rest of their colleagues.

            Shiro, who had been standing near the front of the bridge with Allura, turned around to look at the others. Keith caught his eyes, and he raised his eyebrows. Shiro seemed to understand him, without having said a word. He, too, felt something was just slightly..off about this.

            When he and Keith looked to the other Paladins, and then to Allura and Coran, all of them wore the same hesitant expression.

            “The Galra make a tempting offer,” Cuffili said, returning to the screen. “They guarantee our safety and the reverence of the rest of the universe if we are to turn in the whereabouts of Voltron. Seeing as a transmission has been established, we have your current location. We could turn you in right at this moment. What makes your offer better than theirs?”

            Allura faltered, and Shiro had no problem stepping in for her.

            “You said your myths spoke of Voltron. Was Voltron not a hero?” Shiro asked.

            “Voltron was indeed a hero, but those were myths. This is reality, and the safety of an entire planet,” Cuffili responded.

            Keith didn’t know how Cuffili meant his words to come across, but he registered a note of…arrogance, he guessed, was the best word to describe it. Acting as though Team Voltron didn’t know the stakes? They wouldn’t have sent a damn transmission in the first place if they didn’t know the fucking stakes.

            “We understand,” Shiro said. “Team Voltron is committed to protecting the universe. Even if you were to turn us over, the Galra won’t hesitate to take over your planet, regardless of their word. They don’t look for allies. They look for new military bases and new prisoners to throw into their gladiator arena. They look for planets whose resources they can harvest. I would know. They had me imprisoned for an entire year.”

            “And they had us imprisoned last week,” Lance said, jerking his thumb at Keith. “The prince—well, I guess he’s the emperor, now—is unstable. He has no problem switching up on people. He doesn’t think very much of his officers or commanders. He was going to kill one commander for letting us get away. I guess, in short, the Galra Empire is bad news. They don’t even trust their own. So even if you told them our location…if we were to get away, they would turn on you without hesitation. But we can help you, if you would give us the chance.”

            Cuffili seemed to consider this, looking between Shiro, Lance, and Keith.

            “Last week, you said?” Cuffili asked. His eyes landed on Keith again. “Yes, I suppose that scar does look fresh. I’m assuming you received it during your imprisonment, then?”

            “Yes,” Keith said, through grit teeth.

            “Well, the rest of us will have to consider this offer,” Cuffili said. “Just a few moments while we conference, please.”

            Cuffili paused his transmission, the words PAUSED AND MUTED appearing on the bridge screen.

            Allura frowned. “Coran, could you pause and mute us as well?”

            “Yes, Princess.”

            Allura waited, until she was sure that the Eddulans could not see or hear them, and turned to the Paladins.

            “I don’t like this,” Keith said at once. “Something about him doesn’t seem right to me. And I really don’t like the way he talked about my scar.”

            “You look cute with or without it, if that helps,” Lance said quietly.

            Keith reddened. “I’m not cute, McClain.”

            “We can argue about that later,” Lance said, and had the audacity to wink. Then he looked at everyone else and said, “But yeah, Keith has a point. That guy made me super uncomfortable. And I’m willing to bet that right now, they’re trying to get into contact with the Empire and tell them where we are.”

            “I don’t see why they would, considering we just told them the Empire is filled with lying jerks,” Hunk muttered.

            “Because the Empire is powerful, and Lotor’s not an idiot,” Shiro said. “He knows how to play his cards. And the Empire’s got a lot more firepower than we do. Sometimes a show of brute strength overrides loyalty and logic.”

            “So we bring in Voltron and give them a show of brute strength when the Empire starts attacking their planet,” Keith said.

            “Maybe,” Shiro said. “First, we’ll see what they say to us—whether or not they’ll agree to an alliance.”

            “Or, we see if they’ve called up the Empire like, hey, yeah, Voltron is coming, we’ll keep them right here so you can come and take them away and give us that sweet sweet Empire protection,” Hunk said.

            Shiro breathed hard through his nose.

            “Yeah. Or that.”

            The prince was an idiot.

            And no, Haggar was not going to refer to the brat as Emperor Lotor.

            Haggar watched the security tapes with two Galran officers flanking her. It seemed, in Lotor’s rush to murder his father and pawn it off on the Blade of Marmora—that, Haggar could give him some credit for, however begrudgingly—he’d forgotten that security cameras were a thing that existed. And now she had all of the incriminating evidence. It was amazing, really. These cameras even picked up on sound!

            What a concept.

            A concept the prince apparently had overlooked.

            He was complaining, now, about Haggar, and how she perceived him as less than worthy of running the Empire, as some insolent child rather than the competent ruler he so desired to be seen as. An irony, Haggar mused. All he was doing was proving her point. Instead of murdering his father, he could have been aiding in strengthening the Empire, as Zarkon had wanted it. Not throwing his ways back in his face on his deathbed. It was no wonder Zarkon had hated him.

            He listened to what he wanted to listen to, and tuned out anything that didn’t suit him.

            The tape ended as Lotor walked out of the room, having successfully committed patricide. Haggar stared at the blank screen, the gears in her head turning. Here, she had all the evidence she needed to paint Lotor as a traitor to his own people and get him sent right back into exile—or get him executed. Honestly, she would take either one. But would it be better than the Blade of Marmora story the Empire was currently running with?

            On the one hand, pinning it on the Blade of Marmora rallied support amongst the other rebel groups around the universe. But how much strength did they have, really? Would it be enough to take on the Empire? Haggar guessed not. If they hadn’t been able to accomplish anything in the last several hundred years, she didn’t see why they could start now. Voltron being around the last few months hadn’t done much to change anything.

            On the other hand, pinning it on the Blade of Marmora hindered them just as much as it could help. Anyone loyal to the Empire would be infuriated that their beloved Emperor had been killed, and would be out for blood. It would make the work of wiping the Blade of Marmora, and subsequently, all of their allies, that much easier.

            …But pinning it on Lotor…

            Most of the guards hated him. Half of the Empire probably hated him. Anyone who hated the Empire hated him. If Haggar exposed him, she could generate so much more support for herself…

            “Keep this filed away,” Haggar finally ordered, turning and leaving the guards.

            She would sit on this. She would bide her time and wait for the right moment to use it. Maybe she wouldn’t have to use it at all. Maybe Lotor would be so caught up in his pining for the Blue Paladin—the boy was not subtle—and so caught up in waiting for Team Voltron to come to him—seriously, for someone who ordered his officials to pretend Voltron didn’t exist, he was very much hung up on them—he would accidentally destroy himself.

            Haggar could just release the video once he was out of the picture, and the whole Empire could laugh along with her.

            “Are they seriously still debating this?” Lance asked.

            Ten minutes had passed without a word from the Eddulans. The bridge had fallen into silence long beforehand, as everyone waited around for the transmission to be unpaused. In those silent ten minutes, Pidge and Coran had been monitoring the sky around the ship, as well as the ship’s defenses, to make sure there were no Galra ships approaching, and if there were, that their defenses would be ready. Shiro had returned to his chair to rest a bit. Allura paced. Hunk and Lance had made it through forty-three rounds of Rock-Paper-Scissors, and had determined that Hunk was somehow a much better player at a game of pure chance, with thirty-seven wins compared to Lance’s six. Keith had watched it all go down, and had stayed out of it, despite several attempts to get him to join in.

            “Sometimes these things take time,” Shiro called, exhaustion creeping into his voice.

            If they could have just gotten this transmission over with, the Paladins could have been strategizing about their next moves.

            “At this point, maybe we should just let them tell the Empire we’re here, so we can draw Haggar and Lotor in,” Keith piped up.

            “We need backup if things go wrong,” Shiro responded, without even turning around to look at Keith.

            “I hate to play devil’s advocate, but Keith has a point. There were a whole bunch of representatives from different parts of the planet in that meeting,” Hunk pointed out. “We land in one of their provinces or territories or whatever they’re calling them, and we get their aid, and the rest of the planet can fight off the Empire for itself.”

            “That—might not be a bad idea,” Shiro said.

            “Thank you, Hunk,” Keith said, crossing his arms with a glare toward Shiro. Not like Shiro could see it, but he hoped Shiro would get the message all the same.

            “We’ll need to go back to mental training if we’re to pull that off,” Allura remarked. “Hunk, Shiro, and Lance especially.”

            Lance didn’t plan on letting Haggar get into his head. Not after last time. Not after he’d almost killed Keith—twice.

            It was then that the screen on the bridge came back to life, audio filling up the room once again. The Paladins scrambled into position—trying to look like they hadn’t just sat around in sheer boredom for ten minutes—while Coran got their own video and audio feeds back up.

            “Princess Allura,” Cuffili said, “we’ve come to a decision.”

            Chatter in the background ceased.

            “We apologize for taking so long to come to this decision…and we also apologize for the decision we’ve made. We have a history of being against the Empire, yes—but this offer was too good to pass up. We’ve alerted the Empire to your location, and ships should be here very soon.”

            “Asshole!” Keith shouted, before anyone could stop him. “The Empire won’t protect you! They’ll take your people and enslave them! Do you really think they’ll reward you for turning us in?!”

            Shiro and Allura might’ve silenced him, if not for the loud alarm that began blaring through the castle.

            Shiro, instead, turned to Cuffili.

            “You and your people have made a mistake,” he said. “Voltron is the only thing that can stand against the Empire. We gave you a chance to help us.”

            “We decided that if Voltron was so powerful, it will be no difference whether or not we are allied,” Cuffili said. “And that outburst from the Red Paladin is…unbecoming.”

            Keith opened his mouth to retaliate. Lance lunged, clasping a hand over Keith’s mouth and pulling him back before he could say anything else.

            “Thank you and have a good day,” Lance said instead, glaring at the screen.

            Coran found that a suitable place to end things and cut off the transmission there.

            “We’ve got fighters coming in,” he warned, as his holoscreen changed from the transmission feed to the castle defenses.

            “Everyone, get to your stations. I want you guys on defense drones until something bigger comes our way,” Shiro ordered. “Allura, is there any place we can land that’s closer than Eddul? A moon? Anything?”

            “Unfortunately, no,” Allura said, stepping up to her post. “Eddul is our only chance. We need to keep the castle and the Lions far away from Haggar’s reach. A moon isn’t large enough.”

            “Great,” Shiro muttered, collapsing back in his chair.

            Vargas later, word had reached Lotor that the Voltron Paladins were closing in on Eddul.

            “And what of the Paladins’ transmission feed? Did the Eddulans manage to pull any of it while it was down?” Lotor demanded of one of the officers, working tirelessly on the bridge.

            “No,” the officer said, at the same time another officer, across the bridge, called out, “Yep, got it here.”

            The first officer blanched.

            And then the second officer called out, “Wait—it just disappeared. Something’s wrong with the system.”

            Lotor could have screamed right there.

            Something’s wrong with the system was just another bit of code for the Blade of Marmora continues to screw things up, even when they know I want them all dead.

            “Find out who’s behind this. Immediately!” Lotor shouted, turning toward the guards standing near the entrance to the bridge. The guards saluted Lotor with clenched fists pressed to their chests and tight bows, and then left without so much as a word. Lotor turned back to the two officers working away at their computers.

            “You two had better find a way to get those feeds back. They likely contain critical information, do you understand?”

            The one and only thing Keith would give the people of Eddul credit for was not shooting at the castleship as it entered the atmosphere, and Lance blew apart the last of the fighters tailing them. They’d spent hours battling from their defense drones, as the fighters forced them closer to Eddul. As soon as the last one was gone, everyone on the bridge let out a sigh of relief.

            Lance paused.

            “Did we seriously just do that?”

            “That was almost more in sync than we are whenever we form Voltron,” Pidge muttered, lifting up her glasses to rub at her eyes as she slid down in her chair.

            The bridge windows suddenly darkened, as a screen came up.

            “What the—” Lance started.

            A new face came onto the screen, a Galran officer.

            Nobody moved an inch, nobody breathed a word.

            The officer blinked at them for a moment, squinting at the screen. “Is this connection even working?”

            It was the whisper in her voice. And then the quick glance over her shoulder. Shiro stood up from where he sat, and the officer’s face lit up.

            “Oh, thank goodness. Hello, Team Voltron. I don’t have a lot of time.”

            Her words came in a rush, as she explained the situation: “My name is Tiva, and I’m with the Blade of Marmora. Your ship was nearly compromised in the ten dobashes your transmission with Eddul was down. Eddulan hackers broke into your feed and grabbed both audio and video, and had it transmitted back to Lotor’s ship. I’ve managed to disrupt most of the transmissions, and destroyed any traces that made it through. For the integrity of anything and everything you may have said, I did not waste time listening to it. I just want to warn you now that Lotor is currently on his way, and he is angry. Be careful.”

            The Galran—Marmorite, Shiro decided, sounded better—looked over her shoulder again, eyes widening. Without a second thought, she pulled a blaster from her belt and shot at whatever she’d been talking to, cutting off the transmission.

            The team hadn’t even gotten in a word of thanks to her.

            And they likely never would.

            “…That was unexpected,” Pidge finally said.

            “So, the Eddulans are even worse than we thought,” Keith said. “If the Empire decides to destroy them anyway, do we really need to step—”

            “Keith,” Shiro warned.

            Keith crossed his arms. “I’m just saying, they sold us out.”

            “We’re Paladins of Voltron, and we have to protect people, no matter what they’ve done to us,” Shiro said. “Now, I want all of you on the training deck for mental training. We’re going to need to do as much as we can before Lotor arrives.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

            Not a single Paladin had successfully gotten Allura out of their head by the time that Coran announced he was detecting incoming Galran ships. Even if Coran hadn’t called it there, it didn’t appear as though anyone would have improved if given more time. Hunk and Keith and Lance were all on the ground panting, while Pidge swayed on her feet. Shiro and Allura were the only ones still willing to give it another go, if they could’ve.

            Even with a scene like this, the Paladins had done better than anyone had expected.

            After having had Allura and Haggar in his head before, it came as a surprise to no one that Lance had gotten closest to expelling Allura from his mind while keeping control of his physical actions. He was, of course, followed up by Shiro, who seemed to be almost naturally good at nearly anything that was thrown his way. And then, smack in the middle of everyone, unexpectedly, was Pidge.

            “I don’t like people rooting around in my head,” had been her reasoning for mentally jawing Allura the first chance she got, stunning the princess long enough for Pidge to deliver two more blows before Allura recovered and knocked her out.

            A feel-good mental picture for the team, as they hustled back to the bridge.

            Shiro went over the plan with all of them. They were in a mostly-barren spot on the planet, just outside of a large forest. Pidge would use Green’s cloaking device and the cover of the forest to fly in Lance and Allura. Where Allura would likely have to get closer to duel Haggar, Lance would try and keep to the tree line and shoot from there. Shiro and Hunk, acting as both the bait and distraction, would make a show of flying around in the Black Lion (Shiro had reassured everyone that he would make sure the Black Lion didn’t take too much damage, when everyone pressed him about taking the Yellow Lion instead). Keith would wait on the castleship with Coran, until the signal was given for him to not only come in as Lance and Allura’s getaway, but to lay down whatever necessary covering fire Shiro and Hunk needed to make their escape. While all of that was going down, Pidge would be hacking into the signals and feeds on whatever Galra ships came in, pulling whatever useful information she could.

            If all went accordingly, Haggar would be dead within the hour.

            If not, then Keith hoped he could get down to the planet in time to give everyone the chance to escape.

            Keith hung back as the doors to the bridge opened, and the other Paladins hurried inside. He grabbed Lance by the arm, pulling him around the side of a wall. Lance stiffened at the sudden contact, and then realized it was only Keith. His expression softened as they stood face-to-face. Keith stared up. Lance stared down. And then Keith surged forward, just about bodyslamming Lance as he engulfed him in a hug.

            Lance was only tense for a moment, before his whole body relaxed and melted into Keith’s embrace.

            “Stay safe, all right?” Keith murmured in Lance’s ear.

            “Mhm,” came Lance’s soft, slightly squeaky reply.

            Keith held him there for a good while, until he drew back, bracing Lance by his biceps, meeting his eyes straight-on. Lance blinked. Keith blinked. Then Keith dropped his eyes to Lance’s lips, and raised them again in questioning. Lance gave him the go-ahead with another nod—it was all he could manage, since his brain seemed, at the moment, to be at a disconnect with his mouth.

            This time, Keith closed the gap between them. The kiss was soft and short; neither Lance nor Keith were willing to go too far into it when they were short on time—and of course, they’d only been dating maybe a week. And yet, when they pulled apart, both of them were flushed.

            Lance smiled at Keith, as he pressed their foreheads together. “You know, you’re—”

            “Call me cute again, I dare you,” Keith interrupted, narrowing his eyes. He was smiling, too.

            The chuckle that Lance let out made Keith’s heart trip over itself.

            “We better get back to the others,” Lance whispered to him. “We do have a mission, you know.”

            “I know,” Keith said, and let go of Lance.

            They entered the bridge, Lance heading for the elevator to the Green Lion, while Keith situated himself in his seat and put on his helmet. He pulled up his holoscreens, which showed the surrounding area—one screen displaying the surface of the planet below, and the other displaying the sky around them.

            After a few minutes, the energy signatures of the Green and Black Lions appeared on the screens, and inside of them, the energy signatures of Lance, Pidge, Allura, Shiro, and Hunk. No sign of Lotor’s ship yet—just a few fighters that stayed on the outer edges of the castle’s detection range. As soon as Lotor’s ship came into view, Keith would head down into Red.

            If things got dicey on the ground, he wanted to be there as fast as possible.

            “Don’t look so worried about him,” Coran said.

            Keith lifted his eyes; Coran hadn’t even looked up from his control board, where he was surrounded by different holoscreens. Hadn’t stopped typing away. Keith knitted his eyebrows, shutting off the mic on his comms.

            “How did you—”

            “I’ve been around for a long time.”

            Coran finally turned around. His gaze seemed far away as he spoke to Keith, like he was seeing someone else entirely.

            “I wasn’t a Paladin,” Coran went on, “but I was there for them like I’m here for you all now. I’ve seen those sorts of looks on Allura’s mother’s face, every time Alfor left. I’ve seen them on Alfor, whenever we were away, and he wondered how his wife and daughter were doing. I’ve seen them on plenty of other people. Love isn’t foreign to me.”

            “Love?”

            Keith practically choked on the word.

            Did he love Lance?

            He’d confessed the fact that he’d at least liked Lance on Lotor’s ship, when they were half-dead and Keith didn’t see much hope for them getting out. He didn’t think Lance had even been awake enough to hear him. And then in the past few days, ever since Keith had come out of his cryopod, he and Lance were practically inseparable. And then, even before all of this, there had always been some part of Keith that’d liked Lance. And admired him. And cared about him. And had driven him to ask Lance to pilot Red when Keith piloted Black.

            Was this room getting warmer?

            This is not the time to be thinking about this. They had a mission. And if Keith didn’t pay attention, he wouldn’t be able to get in and extract the others when they needed it. And if he didn’t extract them, he basically handed them over to the Empire. Handed Lance over to the Empire, which would have made sorting out his feelings a lot harder, because once again, Lance wouldn’t be there, and he would be left to just fantasize about things, and holy quiznak, why was he still thinking about this?

            “You’re still young, I know,” Coran said, eyes finally focusing. “And you’ve got a lot to handle already. But don’t let something like this go by. You might regret it. …Just some food for thought!”

            Coran turned back around and resumed his work, as though he didn’t just drop a wisdom bomb on Keith. Keith sat in his chair, stunned, letting Coran’s words sink in. He was right, of course—he didn’t have the time to let this go by. They were Paladins of Voltron. That meant their lives were on the line every day.

            He’d already almost lost Lance once.

            Multiple times, if Keith counted the several instances where he’d nearly been killed.

            I don’t want to go too fast.

            Those words were still true. Keith didn’t want to rush things. This was still new, and they still had a job to do. And what if they rushed things, just to find out that…it wouldn’t work out? What if the only reason this had ever happened was because they were stuck in space with only a few other people, and Lance and Keith had just found each other convenient?

            Would we really work out beyond the war? Would we work out back on Earth?

            Tiva would have called the two officers she’d killed her friends or comrades—maybe in another life, if they hadn’t been seeking to aid Lotor when they found her in one of the control rooms, actively ruining the flow of information between the Eddulans and the ship. But for now, they were nuisances and in her way. She stepped over their bodies, suppressing any grimace or shudder that tried to force its way out of her.

            She shot at the security camera, blowing out its circuitry. Sparks rained down from where the security camera now dangled precariously by wires off the wall. That was step one. Step two was to get right back to the computer she’d been working away at—yes, the same one with the smoking hole in the camera and one of the dual screens right above it—patch herself into the security system, and wipe the feeds from this camera completely. Not a soul could know she’d done that, but hopefully, Cosso or Mirak—better yet, both of them—were in the security rooms, and would be able to get rid of any evidence that she might’ve missed.

            Once that was all done with, she could breeze her way through this ship, and let everyone know that the two guards who’d happened upon her were the ones behind the whole thing. She’d lie and say one was a member of the Blade, the other was an oh-so-loyal, I’m bowing down to your feet right now because I just cannot stand the thought of not kissing this Empire’s ass, Prince Lotor, guard, attempting to take out the traitor.

            Considering her hacking skills, it was a simple feat for Tiva to get into the security feeds. Her fingers worked faster than Haggar worked her lightning, eyes scanning the threads of code much more quickly than they went by. Her eyes latched onto one thread, the series of numbers and letters indicating the feed from this room. Tiva grabbed on, and Tiva destroyed.

            She prepared to shut this whole thing down when another thread of code caught her eye. The serial number and letter on this strand indicated Zarkon’s chambers. The chambers of the dead Emperor. The Emperor who was most definitely not killed by a member of the Blade of Marmora—not unless someone ignored Kolivan’s orders to fly under the radar for now. Tiva pulled that feed up without another tick’s hesitation.

            The feed showed the current happenings in Zarkon’s chambers, which was, well, nothing. Zarkon’s body was still there, and a few druids milled about, none of them doing anything particularly important or productive. None of them tending to the dead Emperor. Haggar was nowhere to be found, either, but that was to be expected—word floated around the ship that they were closing in on the Paladins, on the planet Eddul.

            With just a few more taps on the computer in front of her, Tiva rewound the footage, until the timestamp in the corner was just barely a varga before word of Zarkon’s death began spreading around the ship.

            Tiva wanted to say she was surprised by what she found, but really, how could she have been? From the other officers she would talk to—she herself could never get close enough to Lotor to hear whatever he had to ramble about, nor did she want to—she’d gathered that Lotor hated his father, apparently as much as the rumors said Zarkon did Lotor. And that was a lot. A fuckton of exile-fueled bitterness and anguish and spite had filled the space that should’ve been occupied by a healthy father-son relationship.

            Then again, every time the Empire found something healthy, be it a planet or an alliance or a flying robot made up of five flying robot lions just trying to protect other civilizations from utter destruction, the default move seemed to be to eradicate it and wipe any evidence of its existence.

            So now what?

            Tiva had the smoking gun. All the incriminating evidence she needed to prove to the Empire, to prove to the rest of the universe, to prove to Kolivan—who would probably rip the other members of the Blade a new one if this new information didn’t become public soon—that Lotor had murdered his father to take the title of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Lo-tormented Emo Soul.

            She needed to save this and get it to Team Voltron. They’d be able to send it out without a problem. Except now, the transmissions on this computer were shot to shit—literally.

            Tiva needed to get to another transmissions point. Quickly.

            Lance knew the faint sound of static over radio silence well. Too well. The times when he hadn’t turned his earpiece off, back aboard Lotor’s ship, his ear had been full of it—static and the sound of breathing and various background noises, like the hum of active machinery. He listened to it now, filling the comms of his helmet as he and Allura sat down in Green’s cockpit, Pidge looking over her dashboard from her chair. They’d been camped out in the woods probably for five minutes now, waiting for Lotor’s ship to arrive.

            It had to be arriving, right? It wouldn’t just be the fighters circling them, circling their castleship, hesitating to attack? If Lotor and Haggar and the ship didn’t arrive, then this mission would all be for naught. They’d have to escape, and no offense to Pidge or the Green Lion, but she wasn’t very big. Lance wasn’t sure how many hits the Green Lion could take before her armor wore down. And seeing as Pidge was not the sole occupant of the Lion, but rather had the one person in the galaxy Lotor had decided to fixate upon, and his ex-girlfriend, who was kind of needed to run the castleship, well…Lance just hoped the Galra couldn’t get their hands on that information, because then Green would have been a target for sure.

            “I’m getting a reading here,” Coran’s voice came through, breaking up the silence. Lance, Allura, and Pidge all shifted at once, listening harder as Coran went on, “Yes, that’s definitely Lotor’s ship. And just as we predicted, it’s heading for the Black Lion.”

            Lance loosed a sigh of relief, almost inaudibly. Good. Things were going according to plan. He didn’t know what they would have done if Lotor had decided to go after the castleship instead, but he seemed to be just like Zarkon: after the Lions and nothing else. Briefly, he wondered if Lotor thought they were giving up the Lions, completely overlooking the fact that the Eddulans had revealed their location. They were certainly within their allotted timeframe, after all.

            Had that threat been made just today?

            How long has it been since I’ve slept?

            That, Lance decided, was the first order of business once all of this assassination junk was over with: a long nap, with his pillow and blankets and cozy bed and his music on, drowning out the rest of the world, pulling him into dreamland.

            “Heading down to Red now,” Keith said. “I’ll be landing soon.”

            That was Lance and Allura’s cue. Green opened up to let them out. What a sight it would have been, if anyone had been watching them: a Paladin and a princess, appearing out of thin air, running down to the ground on nothing. Allura led the pair of them the short distance to the tree line, and they crouched behind one of the thicker tree trunks, Lance peering around one side, Allura peering around the other.

            As per the plan, Shiro flew Black, in loops and dives through the open air. Lance wasn’t sure if the noises on the other end of the comms were made by Hunk gagging, but if they were, Lance wouldn’t have been surprised. These weren’t run-of-the-mill, I’m not gagging because I’m too busy trying not to die right now flight patterns. These flight patterns were Shiro just trying to get Lotor’s attention. And from the giggle—wait, Shiro just giggled?—on the other end, he could tell the Black Paladin was having a grand old time, pretending this wasn’t for a mission.

            “Shiro, are you giggling?” Keith asked.

            “Maybe,” Shiro responded, a trace of laughter in his voice.

            “Somebody needs to make him stop before I get sick,” Hunk interjected.

            “You won’t have a problem with that,” Pidge said, now joining the conversation. “Get ready Shiro, Lotor’s coming in hot.”

            “Copy,” Shiro said, and brought Black in for a smooth landing. His laughter had died almost as though someone had flipped a switch. If Lance was honest, it had kind of sent a shiver down his spine, that his attitude could change at the drop of a hat.

            “Oh thank goodness,” Hunk muttered.

            Lance and Allura pressed themselves down, flat on the ground, as though they were prepping to do an army crawl. From this vantage point, Lance could hardly see what was going on, but seeing as at least two, maybe three Paladins could, he supposed he didn’t really need to see.

            “I’m prepping to exit Black,” Shiro said.

            “And I’m staying here to watch everything go down and give updates,” Hunk said. “I’ll only come out when the physical fighting starts. If Lotor doesn’t need to know I’m here, then he won’t know I’m here.”

            Okay. Good. Hunk would be giving them all updates.

            One less thing for Lance to worry about. He clutched his bayard, waiting for the moment when he would need to transform it into his blaster and start firing away.

            “Be careful, Shiro,” Keith warned, voice low.

            “I’ll do my best,” Shiro replied.

            No promises or guarantees of safety. No joking like, hey, when am I not careful? Just honesty. Because his best was all he could do at the present moment.

            “Lotor’s ship is in my range,” Pidge said. “I’m gonna start hacking in and see what I can find.”

            Lance didn’t want to voice the thought out loud; he feared he would jinx things if he did. But for once, one of the Paladins’ plans was falling into place.

            Lotor refused to exit his ship until Haggar was at his side. The Black Paladin was on the ground, hands up in surrender, but Lotor knew very well that the Black Paladin didn’t need to have a weapon on him to fight. His entire right arm was a weapon, and Lotor wasn’t going to take any chances with him. Especially not with the Black Lion right here, within his reach, and the castleship with the other four waiting just within the atmosphere.

            “Your Highness,” Haggar said, and would have continued to speak had Lotor not interrupted.

            “Excuse me, Haggar, I believe my title now is His Imperial Majesty.”

            “Your Highness,” Haggar repeated, and this time, did continue talking, even as Lotor tried yet again to interrupt. “Your Highness, I don’t believe this is an appropriate course of action. I say we take back to the air and eliminate the Castle of Lions. Just in case this turns out to be a trap of some sort.”

            “Nonsense,” Lotor said. “As His Imperial Majesty, I’ve made it quite clear to the Paladins what awaits them if they defy me. They have seen the Empire destroy entire planets, and now they’ve come to a planet with a people turned against them. At my call, we’ll have aid from our own troops and from the Eddulans. The Paladins will be hopelessly outnumbered. Even if this was a trap, Haggar, they’ve really just trapped themselves. It’s called irony.”

            So close.

            Haggar was so very close to killing this boy and he didn’t even know it.

            Her last thought upon exiting Lotor’s ship, at the prince’s—this boy will never be my emperor—side, was that she should have released the security tapes when she had the chance.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

            Lance had always liked space. When he was young, he’d sit with his older siblings on the beach at night. He did it almost year-round, but summer was always the best time to do it. He’d be out amongst the crashing waves on the shore, or in a hammock mottled with moonlight that peeked through the trees, or right in the center of the sand. His brothers and sisters would point out constellations, would point out planets. Some of the best nights were when the sky was busiest, and distant airplanes became Garrison rocketships headed deeper into the cosmos. His siblings told him stories, of daring astronauts, dashing rogues, space pirates—any and every story they could think of. From a young age, Lance had wanted to go to space.

            Joining up with the Garrison had been the only way to do that, and for a long time, his delusions got him through his basic training, the boring studies on the different rocks on the moon and the ice and dust that made up Saturn’s rings. Each day he pushed himself—if you don’t pass, you’ll flunk out, and then you can’t go rescue a hot princess from space peril. He passed tests with flying colors. He made it through basic training (as the Garrison, after all, had been military) with ease. But the flying was the worst part of it. The day he made cargo pilot and not fighter class was also the day before a break.

            Lance had returned home and gushed to his niece and nephew about how he’d made fighter class, bragged to his whole family about how he’d be working his best to be the biggest badass he could be (he substituted the word “butt-kicker” in front of the youngsters) and get into the air, and off of Earth. He would do something awesome and worthwhile.

            “Yes, kiddos,” he’d said, “your Uncle Lance is gonna go to space!” They’d smiled and started chanting, “Space! Space! Space!” and Lance could remember few other moments where his heart had been as full as it was in that one. Starry-eyed little kids they were. Starry-eyed like he’d been. Kids were good at picking up on mood shifts—did they see the stars wink out in his eyes? Could they see what the Garrison had done to him? Were they just as good at pretending as he was?

            That night, he’d taken his niece and nephew to the sands of Varadero Beach, and he relayed to them all the stories his siblings had relayed to him. He didn’t want to lie to them—it tore him up inside, thinking of his misery as a measly cargo pilot, and how unless the Garrison shaped up, these kids had the chance to be met with the same crushing sense of failure. But seeing the way their faces lit up…it made it just a little less painful.

            He told them every story. Every tale of the heroes and villains. He wanted to pass these stories on, before the Garrison could wring the life out of them. He already knew—or thought he knew—that these stories would never come true. The Garrison couldn’t make it past Kerberos, and there were no signs of intelligent life in their solar system besides Earth. The Garrison told him that his dreams were just that: dreams. His studies talked about rocks and the most minuscule of life forms, if any existed. Accordingly, his studies didn’t deal with things like intergalactic treason and political assassination.

            I wonder if they’ve updated the curriculum.

            Lance should have been elated he’d get to live out his fantasies, should’ve been elated knowing he hadn’t exactly lied to his family, just lied about how the Garrison would get them to this point. But all he knew in this moment was dread, the way it coiled in his stomach and made a home for itself.

            The comms had gone silent again. Lotor’s ship hovered high above in the air, and a pod was coming down slowly. Shiro stood in the clearing, arms raised in mock surrender. Hunk waited in the Black Lion for the moment when he’d need to burst out, gun blazing, to aid Shiro. Pidge was working on hacking the systems of Lotor’s ship. Allura waited to spring into action. Coran monitored things from the castle. Keith waited to launch Red.

            And Lance waited for the moment when his bayard would become a blaster, and he’d have to line up his shot and squeeze the trigger.

            The heroes in his stories never felt like this. Lance hadn’t felt like this in his last escape. He’d felt…alive was decidedly not the best word for it, because he had been running for his life and trying to protect Hunk and worrying about whether Keith would be alive when Shiro and Pidge brought him back into the castle. Exhilarated was probably the better word. All of his pent-up energy had had a release. He was on the run from people who were actively trying to kill him, he was in the right.

            This was premeditated murder.

            Heroes did not commit premeditated murder. At least, not the ones Lance was brought up to believe in.

            The rational side of him knew that yes, this was for the good of the universe and the good of his friends. The Empire had killed and enslaved innumerable amounts of people. Lotor and Haggar were awful, and had taken him prisoner in his own mind, and had tried to kill his friends, had tried to kill Keith… And when it came down to it, Lance knew that he would be squeezing the trigger. His friends were depending on him. Yeah, the whole universe was too, but his friends were especially.

            If he was still feeling guilty about this later on, they would help him through it.

            “Haggar and Lotor are nearly here,” Hunk said, having the good sense to speak quietly in the comms, so that no one standing near a Paladin would be able to hear him. “I’ll be there at the first sign of danger.”

            “Copy,” Shiro hissed.

            Shiro would have been awful at ventriloquism. The singular word came out through wet through his teeth. He’d been trying not to move his mouth and give away that he was communicating with the other Paladins, but Lotor couldn’t have been that stupid. He at least knew how their helmets worked.

            Lance went rigid at the sensation of something tapping his arm. He looked to his left, where Allura was slowly rising to her feet, silently motioning for him to do the same. He nodded to her, ignoring the flush that crept into his cheeks. He’d been scared. Of Allura.

            All right, nerves, settle yourselves.

            Lance drew himself into a crouching position, left hand on the tree trunk to support himself. From this angle, he could see slightly more of what was going on. Haggar and Lotor’s pod was landing, and Shiro was rooted to the spot, watching every move the ship made. Honestly, Lance was kind of surprised that none of the Galra had opened fire on Shiro and just killed him right here—but then again, Lotor had promised to let them live if they turned in Voltron.

            “Lotor and Haggar are exiting the pod,” Hunk announced.

            Lance and Allura brought themselves to their full heights, pressing themselves shoulder-to-shoulder, backs against the tree. From here, the pod blocked their line of vision—blocked Shiro, blocked Lotor, blocked Haggar.

            “Shiro, I need you to move and see if you can get them away from the pod. I can’t shoot from here,” Lance whispered. He watched the scene the whole time, part of him waiting for the moment when Lotor would whirl around, and Haggar’s lightning would zing toward the tree line and blow it to bits. Waiting for the moment when Lotor would reveal that either he’d somehow heard Lance, or someone had hacked the comms and was relaying everything back to him.

            That never happened.

            “Prince Lotor,” Shiro said.

            The comms picked up on Lotor’s answering, “Actually, it’s Emperor Lotor.”

            From the corner of his eye, Lance caught Allura rolling her eyes.

            “Of course, my apologies. I’m still getting used to the change,” Shiro said.

            Lotor started talking, but Shiro’s comms couldn’t pick up on everything. Lance took his opportunity, and moved to another tree slightly closer to the edge of the line. A slightly riskier vantage point, this trunk thinner than the other. But this one at least allowed him a slightly better look at Lotor, a slightly better position to hear Lotor and Shiro and Haggar’s conversation.

            “Step aside, Black Paladin. If this is you truly giving up your Lion to us, then you’ll do as told.”

            Between his spot, and Shiro’s comms, and the loud way Lotor announced it—probably trying to assert his authority, as he’d done before his crowds and in the broadcast he’d sent out—Lance heard the order loud and clear.

            “I don’t like this,” Keith whispered. “He came here because we got ratted out.”

            “The point is to act like that was just a coincidence, now hush,” Pidge said, but underneath it, Lance detected the underlying current of worry.

            Keith huffed on the end of his comm but said nothing else. Good, Lance thought. As much as he liked Keith, he needed to hear whatever Lotor was saying, and focus on lining up a shot to take down either him or Haggar.

            As much as Lance hated Lotor, for many, many reasons, Lotor was not the one with the ability to waltz into his head and take over his brain at any time he pleased. Haggar was dangerous, and Haggar needed to go down first. Soon. Unfortunately, the way the trio in front of the Black Lion was standing, Shiro was still the only person in his range. Well, in his fatal range, anyway. Lance would’ve had no problem nailing Lotor’s shoulder or extended elbow from where he was, but shooting him in either of those spots would only alert him and Haggar to his presence.

            Haggar, the person he really needed to take down, was still fully blocked by the pod.

            Lance crouched down, making an effort to keep as silent as possible as he moved to another tree. This angle was still no better, but just like the last move, it was an improvement. It was also pushing it. He would reach a point where Lotor’s periphery would pick up on his presence, and it would all be downhill from there.

            “Haggar,” Lance heard the faint sound of Lotor’s voice, “if you please.”

            “Wait, wait—” Shiro started, only to cut himself off with his own screams.

            Lance and maybe Allura were the only people who heard Lotor’s next remarks, loud and clear from the way he shouted over Shiro: “Last time, talking cost me a kill. Not this time.”

            That set Lance’s blood boiling.

            “I’m getting down there!” Keith shouted, at the same time Hunk announced, “I’m getting out of this Lion!”

            Lance whipped his head back and gave Allura a wave. They needed to move, and they needed to move now. Haggar was too preoccupied trying to take the quintessence of the Black Lion herself, and it would only be a matter of time before Allura went down. Lotor was fast approaching Shiro, blade drawn, and Shiro was too busy fighting off Haggar’s influence in his head to move from where he’d fallen to his knees.

            “Lance, Allura, if you’re listening, you’ve gotta make that kill,” Pidge said. “We’ve got Galra fighters coming in, and there are a few Eddulan ships I’m picking up on. Keith, get your ass in the sky and take down anything that comes your way.”

            Right. Lance and Allura would take down Haggar and free Shiro from what was being done to him, and then there would be no chance of Allura going down, too. That would just leave Lotor. Hopefully, if things went well, Hunk would take care of that creep.

            “I can help lay down fire for now, but you’ll need to be quick about this!” Coran said.

            “What about Shiro?” Keith asked.

            “I’m coming to help him now, don’t worry about it!” Hunk said.

            Lance took off at a dead sprint across the clearing, but that still wasn’t fast enough. He activated his jetpack and clambered onto the top of the pod. He was out of Haggar’s sight from up here. While Allura started her attack from the ground, lightning interfering with Haggar’s and drawing her attention away from the Black Lion, Lance fired his blaster.

            Twice.

            Three times.

            Four.

            All four shots hit their mark, and Haggar still wasn’t down. But, at the very least, Lance and Allura’s combined efforts drew Haggar away from the Black Lion. Lance leapt down, landing on the ground on the other side of the pod, out of Haggar’s sight. If Allura could draw her fire long enough, Lance could get back on the pod and keep shooting. If Haggar couldn’t see him, she couldn’t get to him. Not without potentially blowing up her exit.

            Lance counted five seconds before getting back to the top of the pod, taking aim, and firing, nailing Haggar right in the back. This time, she was quicker on the reaction, lashing out with her lightning before Lance could clear out of the way. He activated his shield right as the lightning collided with it and traveled up his arm.

            He couldn’t help the scream that came out of his mouth.

            “Lance!”

            “Keith, I’m fine,” Lance said through grit teeth, navigating around the side of the pod. “Focus on keeping the sky clear!”

            Haggar would probably expect Lance to come back up to the top, as he’d done twice in a row now. If he came around the pod, though—

            “Is Haggar dead yet? Because we need to get out of here. Shiro needs help, like immediately.”

            Hunk sounded desperate.

            “What about Lotor?” Lance asked, peering around the side of the pod.

            He trained his gun on Haggar, as she and Allura duked it out in a blitz of hot light. Bolts struck the ground and left it scorching. A few of Allura’s shots scraped the sides of the pod, before Haggar drew them back. Haggar wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, if Lance could just get one more shot off.

            Hunk’s answer came right as Lance squeezed the trigger: “He ran away. It was either pursue him or get to Shiro.”

            Lance’s shot grazed the back of Haggar’s cloak.

            “What do you mean he—”

            Lance cut himself off by crying out, as sharp pain struck his back and traveled all the way through him. He crumpled, bayard returning to standard form. What had he just been hit with? Who—?

            You know who.

            Lance rolled onto his back, a blade coming down inches from his face and striking his hand, cutting right through, going straight into the ground. Lance screamed again, as Lotor stood over him, one boot planted firmly on each side of Lance.

            “Lance, what the hell, you just said you were fine!”

            “Shut up, Keith,” Lance hissed.

            Keith was too far away to be acting this concerned. Lance turned his focus to the giant problem standing over him, retracting some sort of needle back into the sleeve of his armor. Whatever it was, Lance guessed that was what he’d been hit from behind with.

            “You know,” Lotor said, batting his eyes for dramatic effect, “you’re lucky you’re very handsome. I’ll at least show you a little more mercy than I showed the Black Paladin.”

            Just when it looked like Lotor was about to sit on top of Lance and make this whole thing a hell of a lot more uncomfortable and humiliating, something shot out and wrapped around Lotor’s neck. Whatever it was—green, a green rope, Lance registered—jerked Lotor back so hard that he toppled over, hands going to his throat to remove whatever this was before it could choke him to death.

            It was all the time Pidge needed to hurry to Lance’s side, still clutching her bayard. She leapt over the ropes on the ground, before Lotor could get the bright idea to trip her with it.

            “When did you get here?” Lance asked.

            “As soon as I saw more fighters prepping to enter the atmosphere. We have to go,” Pidge answered. “This is gonna hurt. Sorry.”

            And with that, she ripped Lotor’s blade out of Lance’s hand, Lance trying to suppress his gasp of pain. She turned it over, debating whether or not to give it back to Lotor. She’d just made the decision to keep it with her when she lost her footing, something yanking her back—Lotor, pulling the ropes of her bayard. Pidge tugged back hard, scrambling to find purchase and regain her footing.

            “Oh no you don’t!” Lance shouted, getting to his feet and coming up behind Pidge. He wrapped his arms around her waist and planted his feet, trying to slow Lotor and Pidge down.

            With Lance firmly behind her, Pidge dug her heels into the planet’s soil, the two of them acting as a big enough anchor for Lotor to stop moving. He visibly paled, looking between the rope in his hands, and the two Paladins before him, both of whom were armed. Both of whom had range to injure him if they were given the proper amount of time. Without a second thought, Lotor hurled his end of the rope back at them, hoping it would at least catch and tangle, and took off sprinting.

            “That motherfucker,” Pidge muttered, retracting the rope back into her bayard. “Come on, Lance!”

            “Get back to Green and help Keith up in the air,” Lance said. “I’m going after Lotor.”

            Lotor was getting further away. Lance didn’t exactly have the time to argue with Pidge when the prince was getting this far out of his range. He bit his lip and stole a glance at the Green Paladin. She was a lot shorter than he was—she would never be able to match his strides. Knowing that, Lance bolted, away from any argument Pidge could’ve made, toward the one person who insisted upon making Lance’s life a living hell.

            “Haggar just disappeared,” Allura said as Lance ran. “I don’t know where she went. She didn’t look very well when she left.”

            “Well, after taking like, five or six direct hits from my blaster, you’d think she would’ve died!” Lance replied.

            Really, how powerful was Haggar if she could survive that many shots from Lance, plus whatever Allura had thrown at her?

            “Can we worry about that later?” Hunk cut in. “Shiro does not look good right now and Black isn’t responding!”

            “I’m coming. It’s because of what Haggar was trying to do to Black’s quintessence—I can feel it,” Allura said.

            “It’s more than what Haggar did to him. I think Lotor stabbed him,” Hunk said.

            Lance grimaced as Keith practically exploded in his ear, letting out a string of swearwords that suddenly made Lance very glad Shiro was not alert right now.

            “How the fuck did Lotor get close enough to stab him?!”

            “I had to force my way out of Black, all right? She wouldn’t respond, because her quintessence was kind of being corrupted? Remember?” Hunk said.

            “Both of you, shut up and focus!” Pidge said. “I’m getting up there. Also, I just got a transmission from…ahh, they might be tracking comms. I’ll tell you guys when we get back to the castle, but this is incredible.”

            “I’m in pursuit of Lotor now. I’ll kick his ass for you, Keith,” Lance said.

            Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he’d get the chance. Lance had long legs, yes, but Keith was faster than him, and apparently, Lotor was faster than Keith. It still didn’t stop Lance from trying.

            Lotor was cutting toward the edge of the woods, probably hoping to lose Lance by weaving in and out of the trees. Lance narrowed his eyes. Like hell Lotor was getting away because Lance couldn’t avoid a couple tree trunks.

            A rush of satisfaction went through Lance every time Lotor looked back at him, as though wondering why he hadn’t shaken him yet. Lance held up his blaster one-handed and squeezed off a shot, but between the running and not being able to get two hands on it without losing his balance, the shot missed Lotor by several inches and hit a tree.

            It’s fine. You weren’t lined up.

            Clearly, he needed to get closer.

            Unfortunately, it was right about that time Lance heard the sound of another blaster firing, a blaster that was most definitely not his own. Something whizzed by Lance’s ear and struck the tree behind him, and all at once, the forest around him became a lightshow of gunfire.

            “No, no, no,” Lance muttered, as Lotor sprinted away, sprinted to freedom, and left Lance to his own devices.

            “Lance?”

            This was the one and only time this whole fight that Lance was grateful Keith was hyperaware of Lance and Shiro’s every move.

            “I got led into an ambush,” Lance said, dropping to the ground as more blaster fire went over his head. “I’m in the woods. I need an extraction.”

            He needed to get away from the blasters. Away from the shots going over his head and pinging off of the trees.

            Wait. Pinging?

            Lance swept his gaze over the ground in front of him, at the tree trunks around him, at the things going over his head. Some of the trees were indeed scorched, but others had little darts sticking out of the side of them. Some of the darts were on the ground, needles bent from impact. Lance swiped one. He had a sick feeling he knew what he was holding, but he would bring it back to the castleship. He needed it tested to know for sure.

            “Do you know who’s firing at you?” Pidge asked.

            Lance stole glances of the bushes and trees, only catching snatches of the soldiers trying to converge on him.

            “Not Galran, that’s for sure,” Lance said.

            Not Galran, and not hesitating. Some of them were getting closer, their shots becoming more focused on his spot on the ground. Lance yelped when one dart almost hit his face, landing not even an inch away. He scrambled to move out of the way. He needed out of here.

            Lance kept sprinting, weaving through the trees, trying to avoid getting hit at all costs. He wanted to equate it to running around the Garrison during the night, avoiding the night patrols, or even Iverson himself. Or sneaking around Lotor’s ship, avoiding sentries and officers. But this was not like that. Out here, there were no places for Lance to hide. Out here, he was exposed from every angle.

            When he was younger, he’d watched movies where his favorite heroes would be caught in something like this, gunfire all around, bullets just about grazing the side of the hero’s skull. And somehow the hero would never get hit. The hero would take his own gun, and in one swift motion of his arm and several successive squeezes of the trigger, he’d mow down every last enemy, whether or not they’d been in his line of sight.

            This was not a movie.

            There was no rhythm to the firing. No pattern. When Lance fired up his jetpack, he knew there would be a strong chance he’d be shot out of the sky. Not like the heroes in the movies, whose safety was somehow always guaranteed. Lance ran and leapt and prayed for the best, jetpack boosting him enough to grab onto a tree branch and get amongst the foliage.

            “I’ve got your energy signature, Lance,” Keith said. “I’m coming down, Mr. I’m Fine.”

            Lance would’ve retaliated with something just as snarky, if not for the blast that hit his armor—his chestplate. Not enough to shatter, but enough to knock him out of the tree. Lance yelped again, feet slipping, hands failing to latch onto the branch before he went down, and heard the crunch of his jetpack beneath him.

            Get to your feet, get to your feet!

            Lance had barely gotten to his knees when something flew at his face, and before Lance could turn away, whatever it was struck him in the cheek, sharp pain flaring up almost immediately.

            Lance glanced down, to see one of those nifty little darts sticking out from just a couple inches under his visor.

            It was nice to know, Lance thought before unconsciousness claimed him, that he’d been right.

            The darts were, in fact, tranquilizers.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

            There were many things wrong with this picture that Keith had wanted no hand in painting. Probably one of the worst was that Haggar had disappeared, according to Allura. If she’d disappeared, that meant she’d teleported away, somewhere else, of her own accord, meaning she was not dead. In the best-case scenario, Haggar would die before she could heal herself from whatever injuries Lance and Allura had given her—but how the flying fuck do you survive five or six direct hits from Lance and then a lightning shitstorm from Allura? In the worst-case scenario, Haggar would somehow make it back to Lotor’s ship—which was probably waiting for orders to launch an attack on the castleship—and then get herself all healed up, just to come back and try some more bullshit.

            The second problem: Lotor got away. Hunk had had a choice between killing him or tending to Shiro, and as much as Keith wanted to be angry with Hunk for letting Lotor slip away, he couldn’t be. Not when Hunk had chosen Shiro’s safety over everything else. Shiro, who was like Keith’s older brother. Shiro, whose death would probably destroy Keith in some way or another. Shiro, their team leader, Team Dad as Pidge sometimes called him, had taken first priority. There was no way Keith could make himself mad at Hunk for that.

            And then, finally, there was the third issue, the most pressing at the moment: Lance. Who was on the ground below, completely surrounded by a firefight. The last Keith had heard from him was a sharp scream before he’d gone silent on his end of the comms. Keith glanced at his dashboard; Red was locked onto Lance’s immobile energy signature. The Lion was coming down hot, blasting apart any tree that stood in their way to make a clear spot to land. Keith worried for a brief moment about Lance potentially sustaining an injury from flying debris, but he was wearing his armor. He could handle it.

            Everyone else still jabbered in Keith’s comms, after the revelation from Lance that there were apparently Eddulan troops on the ground, very clearly fighting against Team Voltron. Something about Hunk covering Allura and Shiro, and Pidge having to cover them all in the sky, to fill Keith’s absence as he went down for the extraction. For Lance’s extraction. Keith said Lance’s name once, twice, and even a third time, hoping to get some kind of reaction.

            None.

            Keith held back from slamming his hand down on his dashboard in sheer frustration. That would get him nowhere. All it would do was potentially mess up something important, or hurt Red, or hurt Keith. He could save his energy for when he was on the ground—which was right about now. Keith stood up before Red had fully landed, practically leaping out of the Lion as soon as everything was stable enough. He tucked and rolled, coming up into a dead heat across the forest, scorch marks everywhere, people shooting in every direction.

            There.

            Lance. On the ground. Unconscious—there’s no way he’s allowed to die on me—with three Eddulan soldiers closing in on him. Even with the blood roaring in his ears, Keith still picked up on the things they were saying—things like aid the emperor and find the witch and man, how rich do you think we’ll be when we hand over this one?

            I think the fuck not.

            Keith activated his bayard, and then activated his jetpack for an extra boost as he lunged. His sword took down the first soldier no problem—Keith ignored the two halves of their body just sitting on the ground, in a pool of dark blue blood. The second soldier was a bit harder, and Keith had to hack off two of its six—yes, he could confirm now that there were only six—arms before killing it. The third, by now, had called for backup, and dodged all four swipes Keith made at it. At the very least, Keith had gotten himself between the soldier and Lance. The trio had dropped Lance when Keith came crashing in, and this asshole had been trying to pick him up again.

            “Stay away from him.”

            Keith would not deny that his voice had come out closer to a growl than anything else. He also would not deny that he’d looked the Eddulan soldier right in the eyes. Or that he’d sliced off three arms in one fell swoop. Or that he’d then driven the blade home, right through the soldier’s chest. Or—perhaps this was the worst one of all—that he’d kind of enjoyed it.

            If anyone found that one out, he’d swear up and down it was the adrenaline.

            It doesn’t matter, Keith thought. He had one goal, and it was to get Lance out of here. He looked around, for any more soldiers, but all he got was the ongoing shooting—shooting at him, and not just blaster fire. Keith saw the darts, with the sharp little needles, and when he took a closer look at Lance’s face, one was indeed poking out from his cheek.

            Only you would manage.

            Keith moved as quickly as he could, first ripping the needle out of Lance’s face (he took care to hang onto it, so Pidge or Coran or Allura could analyze it later), and then getting Lance into a fireman’s carry as he hurried back to Red. Whatever the needle had injected him with seemed to have only knocked him out—Keith picked up on his breathing, being transmitted a little bit by the comms, reinforced by the closeness of Lance’s face to his ear. Red was waiting for him, and it seemed that no one had tried to infiltrate the Red Lion in the brief time Keith was gone—everyone had been scared off by the trees being blown to bits, probably.

            As soon as the two were inside of Red, Keith got Lance back on his feet, and then scooped Lance into his arms, the same way he’d done back in Lotor’s prison cell. Lance’s legs dangled over one side of Keith as Keith settled into his pilot’s chair, Lance’s head lolling onto Keith’s shoulder.

            “You and I need to stop ending up like this,” Keith muttered to him, well aware that Lance could not hear him.

            There were good competitions for him and Lance to get into, like who could get to the higher level on the training deck, or who could fall asleep faster, or who could take down the most Galran fighters. And then there were competitions Keith wanted no part in, like who could end up unconscious in the other’s lap more times.

            The worst part about the score for this game was that it was a nonzero number.

            “Can someone give me a status update? I can’t take much more of this,” Pidge said into the comms, breaking up Keith’s train of thought. He’d been so focused on the task at hand that he’d been ignoring the comms, and apparently, so had everyone else.

            “I’ve got Lance and I’m getting back to the air now,” Keith said. “He got hit with some kind of dart. He’s unconscious, and I don’t know whether this was just a tranquilizer or something else.”

            What if the dart was poisoned?

            The thought pushed its way to the front of Keith’s mind, and he stole another glance down at the Blue Paladin. He looked fine enough, but just looking fine enough wouldn’t cut it.

            “Allura’s still trying to heal the connection between herself, Black, and Shiro,” Hunk said. “If there are troops on the ground, then I’m staying here to help them.”

            Pidge couldn’t hold out for long, and there was no way Hunk would be able to defend Shiro, Allura, and the Black Lion if the troops converged on them. Keith didn’t want to leave Lance alone, but it didn’t look like he had much of a choice.

            “I’m getting Lance back to the castle. I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Keith said. “Coran, if you could get a cryopod ready, that’d be great.”

            Really, Keith noted with a bit of relief, the only thing Lance needed a pod for was his bloody hand. The bloody hand that would now probably gain a scar matching his own.

            As for Lance being unconscious, Keith had to hope that either the pod would take care of that, too, or Lance would wake up on his own. Assuming that whatever had been in the dart hadn’t done something besides knock him out. Like poisoned him.

            Lance’ll be fine.

            Lance had to be fine.

            For the first time in a little while, Lotor could blame the Paladins for his woes instead of the Blade of Marmora. Okay, yes, he’d been coming here on coordinates handed over by the Eddulans, not because the Paladins had decided to give up their robot right away, but then the Black Paladin—he’d been right there. With his hands raised in clear surrender. It would have been easy for anyone to assume that, in realizing that they were stuck in a futile situation, the Paladins had conceded defeat and decided to hand over Voltron.

            Lotor had just believed they were handing over one Lion at a time, instead of all at once, just to make things easier on Lotor.

            Maybe he should have waited to attempt to take control of and kill the Black Paladin until after he’d had all the Lions.

            It hadn’t taken very long for the other Paladins to rush in to save their precious leader, but at least Lotor had known to play that strength against them. With the Black Paladin incapacitated, it was much too easy for Lotor to swoop in, stab him a couple times, and then run and leave the Yellow Paladin—so loyal, unable to stand the thought of leaving his leader in peril—to deal with the aftermath instead of pursuing Lotor as he dodged the scene.

            And then, of course, it had been his lucky day spotting the Blue Paladin, sneaking around, thinking he was slick, as Earthlings apparently liked to put it. Completely unaware that Lotor was coming up behind him. No Red Paladin to rush in and save his lover at the last minute. The princess and the others all too busy to pay him much mind, just as Lotor had tried to warn the Blue Paladin before.

            Lotor would admit, harming the Blue Paladin still stung a little bit—after all, there was no way that all of the affections he’d shown Lotor in his time on the ship were fake. People weren’t that good at pretending. Certainly not under pressure. Certainly not when someone as good looking as himself was standing before them.

            But then the betrayal came flooding back to Lotor, and Lotor had decided to take his time in knocking out the Blue Paladin before loading him into the pod, to be brought back to his ship. A face as beautiful as his didn’t deserve death—not right away, at least. And certainly not when he held vital information about Voltron, and about his teammates.

            Those vexing, absolute little beasts of teammates.

            At first it had been the Red Paladin, probably yelling into those comms—the Red One was not a quiet person, nor a calm one, and Lotor cursed himself for not taking the Blue Paladin’s helmet and cutting off his access to his team—and then it had been the tiny one. The little Green Paladin with the little bayard.

            How he’d—it was a he, right? The small stature, the high voice, they both pointed to prepubescence, clearly…right…?

            Well, no matter what the Green Paladin decided they were, they were a pest to Lotor, and they always would be. First it was rigging up those secret comms. Then it was trying to hack into his ship, as his officers informed him over his own comms—he’d been very careful not to let that bit of information slip, he would just keep letting the little one think they were slick—and then it was coming to the Blue Paladin’s aid with that ridiculous bayard.

            Seriously, trying to choke him to death?

            How low.

            If the Green Paladin was going to fight him, the Green Paladin could have at least given him a little bit of warning, so he could grab his sword and give himself a better chance of winning.

            Of course, now he had incredibly slim chances of winning if someone were to duel him again. That same little gremlin had decided to keep his sword, and Lotor had had to make a snap decision: his life or his blade. He knew very well how good a shot the Blue Paladin was with his bayard, regardless of whether or not his hand was injured. So Lotor had done the practical thing and untangled the ropes from around his neck, chucked them back at the Paladins, and ran.

            No, he did not run because he was afraid.

            He was just being resourceful and intelligent. He knew which battles to pick and which battles to leave alone, and this one had been so clearly in the “leave it alone” zone that he would have been an absolute imbecile if he’d tried to get into it.

            Besides, he had a whole host of troops waiting in the woods.

            Lotor had practically exploded with some kind of joy—joy was not the best word for it, but Lotor didn’t have time to think up a better word when he was running—when the Blue Paladin sent his little green goblin back to their Lion. The Blue Paladin had a habit of getting himself into trouble when alone. So self-sacrificing.

            He would have been such a magnificent addition to the Empire.

            Anyway.

            The plan had been to get the troops in the woods to knock him out by any means necessary. A mere tranquilizer dart? Fine. A shot to the chest or head to knock him out with blunt force? Whatever. Some combination of both, because for whatever reason, the Paladins insisted on pushing through their injuries and continuing to fight back, even at the risk of further damage to themselves?

            Lotor didn’t care, he just wanted the job done.

            Of course, several times, as Lotor had been sprinting through the trees and bushes and whatever other undergrowth that tried to trip him up, he’d nearly taken a few blasts, himself. It was all rather unfortunate, that he didn’t have a long-ranged weapon—or a weapon at all, for that matter, because that little demon child had taken his sword—to defend himself with, or to make it clear to the soldiers who, in all likelihood, were probably shooting at him because they thought he was the Blue Paladin, that he was not the one they should have been targeting.

            If I only I had my sword.

            That green, impish little thorn in Lotor’s side would have to be dealt with. Each battle, they rose higher and higher on Lotor’s this one absolutely needs to die if anything is going to work out for me list.

            Anyway, Lotor had been circling back around to come and claim the Blue Paladin, and lead the Eddulan soldiers to the pod, when he’d stopped short. The section of the forest he’d come across had been blasted to bits, splintering pieces of tree and smoking foliage and ash and scorched ground and what in the name of the Empire?

            And then Lotor saw the Red Lion, sitting in the middle of all of it, the Red Paladin hauling the Blue Paladin and a blood-coated blade inside.

            That could not stand, Lotor clearly remembered thinking to himself as he raced for the Lion, hoping to latch on to something, but the Red Lion had taken off before he could—his fingertips had just grazed the bottom of the Lion’s foot before the Lion shot into the sky, leaving Lotor deserted in the middle of the destroyed forest.

            Once again, the Blue Paladin had gotten away.

            Once again, part of it was the Red Paladin’s fault.

            A large part of it.

            Lotor sometimes wondered if the Red Paladin had a death wish, to be getting in the way of the Empire’s progress so often. To be getting in Lotor’s way, personally. Swooping in and taking the Blue Paladin like he was some prince, saving his lover from their imminent doom.

            I am the prince.

            …Wait, no.

            Coran had had to draw back, just outside of Eddul’s atmosphere, if he wanted to get Lance safely into a pod, without the ship being blown to bits in the time the bridge was empty. As soon as Coran had reassured Keith he could handle things from here—“here” being the moment Keith had exited Red and hauled Lance to the med bay—Keith had sprinted all the way back to his Lion’s hangar.

            That was one teammate to safety.

            Four more still needed help.

            Lotor’s gone. Haggar’s gone. Both of them are alive. We’re being attacked by the Eddulans.

            This was the first time in recent memory that Keith could recall a planet not only refusing Voltron’s aid, but then outright attacking them. No matter what Shiro said, if the Galra decided to turn on the Eddulans, Keith didn’t want to help these people anymore.

            Keith could hear the speech in his mind now, about how Team Voltron couldn’t know whether or not the planet was being forced against their will to aid the Empire, if Lotor was holding people hostage as leverage, if these people were under some sort of mind control…

            Keith couldn’t recall a time when Lance had looked at someone with pure malice. And Keith could definitely not recall a time when Lance had looked at him that way. Even when they’d first met, and Lance had cooked up this whole notion that they’d had a rivalry, there was not one glance that had given Keith the indication that Lance truly hated him. He guessed things were different then than now, though.

            Lance leered at him, gun trained on Keith ’s forehead, any semblance of the true Blue Paladin buried too deep for Keith to reach. Keith stood frozen in his crouched position, hands hovering over the restraints still locked around his ankles. All of his focus went to the stiff position of Lance’s body, his rigid finger hovering over his gun’s trigger, his firm stance—feet planted, shoulders squared—and the slight narrowing of his eyes as he locked onto his target.

            Seeing Lance like this was enough to distract from Lotor, yelling something about being insulted and getting a transmission out to the Castle of Lions immediately. Because at the end of the day, no matter what Lotor said, Lance was the one with the weapon pointed at Keith ’s head. Lance was the one who’d have to live with the aftermath of whatever happened here.

            Lance, please…

            Please, I’m right here.

            Keith couldn’t bring himself to snap or snarl or make some biting remark, even though the competitive drive might’ve helped Lance fight back—might’ve, if it didn’t first earn Keith a hole in the head.

            From the corner of his eye, Keith spotted Lotor making his way toward him, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sheathed sword. The frustration swelled in Keith ’s chest, aching to be let out, but what could Keith do? Lash out? Not in this circumstance. Not when Lance could kill him or Lotor could kill him in the blink of an eye. Not with his bayard in the hands of a dead guard across the hallway. Not when he was surrounded by druids—

            Blaster fire.

            Keith winced, squeezing his eyes shut on instinct, not willing to see hatred in Lance ’s eyes in his final moments.

            But the shots never came.

            Keith opened his eyes again slowly. Lotor was enraged, there was shouting in the hallway—

            No, no, no, no…

            Pidge and Hunk appeared in the doorway, both of them halting as they took in the scene in the room. Took in Lance. Took in Keith. Took in Lotor. Haggar. The druids. If either of them had come here with the idea that they’d shoot anything and everything that stood in their way until Lance and Keith were free, then they were wrong.

            Lance was trapped in his own mind, his own roadblock, and there was no way in hell anyone was shooting him.

            Lotor started talking to Pidge and Hunk. Keith tried to tune out most of what he was saying—something about the ship, and ten dobashes, which Keith guessed was what him being insulted was about—until Lotor said, “Make another move, and I will order the Red Paladin dead.”

            Now, Keith was by no means the logician or strategist of Team Voltron—where people like Pidge and Hunk were brain, Keith relied more on brawn—but he could at least piece together that it didn’t matter what Lotor said here. He was going to have Keith dead one way or another. He just wanted to see how the others would react, so he could have some dramatic finale that ended where Keith’s life did, when Lance squeezed the trigger.

            Keith studied him again.

            His eyebrows had become a bit more relaxed, and his eyes were unfocused. Something was happening inside of his head, Keith could tell. If Lance could just pull through, they could get out of this mess.

            Please.

            I believe in you.

            More commotion in the doorway. Keith flicked his eyes over, heart dropping to the pit of his stomach as though it hadn’t already made a home for itself there. Shiro had come upon them, eyes instantly going to Keith. Keith, who couldn’t fight back. Keith, the vulnerable one. Keith, the boy he’d practically adopted that day at the Garrison.

            Lotor moved back, back to Keith ’s side. He lashed out faster than Keith could react—he grabbed a fistful of Keith’s hair and forced his chin up and threw off his balance, and Keith had to press his back against the metal slab he’d been chained to for…jeez, what had it been, an hour? More? Lotor used his other hand to unsheath his blade and rest it against Keith’s throat.

            More talking. Blabbing in Keith ’s ear.

            And then Lance gave a sharp cry and fell on the ground, twitching, and Keith thanked every higher power out there that somehow, he hadn ’t accidentally shot his blaster, as his bayard returned to its normal form.

            Still, the mental celebration was short-lived. Lotor was still holding the blade to his neck, still holding him by the hair, and Keith had to fight every urge to try and run to Lance anyway.

            Lotor pressed down on the blade, dragging Keith ’s thoughts to what was happening in real time. He had to kill Keith now, now that Lance was down, now that the puppet’s strings had gotten all tangled, and no one had time to fix them, because the finale of the show was coming up too soon. Keith closed his eyes.

            There was no way out of this—at least, there was not a scenario Keith could conjure up where Keith and Lance both made it out alive and in one piece.

            And then Shiro had to start talking, trying to bargain with a madman.

            “Shiro, no!” Keith had interrupted at some point, when Shiro had offered to go and fight Lotor in the arena. It was hard enough to fight someone when you ran the risk of triggering flashbacks, ran the risk of being killed. It was even harder when someone else’s life rode on the outcome of your fight.

            Shiro, of course, had continued to bargain, because Shiro would never leave him behind.

            Lotor stood up, Lotor dragged Keith up, and finally pulled the blade away from him. He could breathe a little easier, in the physical sense of the term.

            Lance was still on the ground.

            Lotor was still trying to bargain with Shiro.

            “—I feel the Blue Paladin is still very charming.”

            It took Keith a moment to register the words that had occurred before that. Shiro. Lotor. Arena. If Shiro won, he could have Keith, but not Blue, and certainly not Lance.

            “Shut the fuck up,” Keith spat.

            No one talked about Lance. The slash he received in response was worth it. Even as he cried out and fell against the slab while Lotor finally let up on his hair, Keith knew that much. Lance couldn ’t defend himself—someone had to. Which was why, when Lotor kept pushing the matter, Keith made himself get back to his feet, clutching his bleeding wound with one hand while the other one was braced against the slab, to help him keep his balance.

            “Shiro, no. I won’t leave without Lance. You can’t do this.”

            The rational part of Keith’s brain was only working part-time. If it was working to full capacity, he would have had the conscious thought that of course Shiro wouldn’t leave Lance to the Galra. Shiro had been their prisoner for a fucking year, and there was no way he’d leave a teammate to the same fate. But still. Keith felt he could use the extra convincing.

            “Really now?” Lotor cocked his head at Keith, grabbing his attention, and maybe if Keith’s limbs wanted to function like normal limbs, if every inch of him didn’t ache, he would’ve reached out and slugged Lotor in the face. “You’d throw away your one chance for freedom? For that?”

            Lotor said it as though he hadn ’t spent every waking minute of his time trying to kiss Lance’s ass when he thought he was Jeremy. Said it as though Lance was replaceable. A bluff or irrational thinking or whatever it was, Keith wouldn’t take it.

            “Any day.”

            He stared Lotor down, and maybe he imagined it—maybe he was so delirious with pain that he thought Lotor had real emotions—but something like awe sparked across his face.

            And then Lance stood up and Lotor snarled and pinned Keith back with his blade.

            Lotor did not matter.

            Lance was on his feet. Lance had a weapon. And the weapon was pointed at Keith ’s forehead once again. Dread rolled over Keith, as he tried to search Lance’s eyes for a sign of him. Just one sign. Something.

            Shiro started speaking again, and then Lotor nicked Keith with his blade to make some point. Caught off-guard, Keith flinched. Forced himself to look at Lance again, as Lotor gave the kill order.

            Clear eyes.

            Not Haggar ’s eyes, not some random druid.

            Clear eyes, bluer than the oceans back on Earth. There was a glint in them, that Lance-glint that said he had a plan. Keith wondered if Lance had picked up that glint from him, the determination that said shut up and trust me, and Keith had to trust him. He seized up his limbs, and pretended to act surprised when Lance took the shot and it blew apart Keith’s—

            “What the fuck?”

            Keith had to brace himself against a wall. He hadn’t made it back inside of Red. He’d been stumbling out of the elevator, too lost in his thoughts, and then the memory of that day resurfaced and took hold and what the hell that’s not what happened, Lance would never—

            Keith tried to steady his ragged breathing. He ripped off his helmet and set it on the ground, pressing his forehead to the cool metal of the walls around him.

            That day is gone.

            You ’re alive.

            Lance is alive.

            Everyone you love is alive.

            Lance is free. No more mind control.

            No more mind control.

            Keith didn’t want his mind to wander, but still, it did, drifting off to other possibilities. If Lance had killed him that day, but Team Voltron had managed to get Lance out of there and heal him afterward, what would people have said? How would people have reacted? Would people have turned against Voltron because of something beyond their control?

            There would be no way for them to know.

            Even if Team Voltron tried to explain, the argument would boil down, again and again, to, “But how do we know you’re not under mind control right now?”

            This is what Shiro would say about the Eddulans.

            Keith scowled. They’d been turned in by the Eddulans, and they’d been shot at, and still—Keith couldn’t turn against them. There were probably innocents on the planet who’d wanted nothing to do with the actions their leaders may or may not have taken. They were still innocent people, and he was still a Paladin of Voltron with a duty to protect anyone in need.

            “Fucking…,” Keith muttered. “Red, you couldn’t have helped me there?”

            Red purred in his mind. “I had no control of it.”

            Great. Just great.

            “God,” Keith muttered. “I need sleep.”

            He picked his helmet up off the floor and put it back on his head, the sounds of battle coming to life in his ears.

            Shit, shit, shit shit SHIT.

            The others.

            They still needed him.

            “Keith Kogane, where the hell are you?” Pidge shouted. “I’ve been listening to you mutter for five minutes straight with no response!”

            “I’m sorry,” Keith apologized, hustling the rest of the way back to Red. “I just—I’ll explain later. I’m on my way.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

            Keith wished he was the lone soul in the med bay after the fight was over, but he was not. Everyone but Allura had insisted upon gathering here, while she went off to go man the ship and get into contact with their allies, and look through whatever files Pidge had stolen when she’d hacked into the systems over Lotor’s ship. Coran and Pidge now were analyzing the dart that’d struck Lance.  Meanwhile, Hunk had sat down on the floor next to Keith, staring between Lance and Shiro’s pods.

            The rest of the battle hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone had hoped. Shiro was out of commission, and the effects of Haggar’s magic had been starting to reach Allura by the time she’d gotten Black back in working capacity. Hunk hadn’t left the two of them, standing guard as ground troops closed in. Pidge had gone down to aid them, and force back the floods of soldiers running in, leaving Keith to take on the Galran fighters and Eddulan warships. Coran had been doing his best to get Lance into a pod and then hurry back to the bridge to aid the Paladins.

            As soon as Black was up and running, Hunk and Allura dragged Shiro inside, and they’d sped off for the castle, Pidge tailing them and shooting down anything and everything that’d come their way. Keith had taken a bit more of his time, blowing apart Lotor’s escape pod before he rejoined the group. Once everyone was back in the castle, Allura had made her way back to the bridge, leaving Hunk, Keith, and Pidge up to the task of getting Shiro down to the med bay—the same place she’d sent Coran back to.

            While they were in the med bay, the ship had performed a wormhole jump, and now the Paladins were in empty skies, no hostile ships or planets in sight. Over the ship intercoms, Allura had announced that the Paladins were officially taking the next two days off, before they went down to Tarvin to strike up a new alliance.

            Keith hoped it wouldn’t go the same way things on Eddul had.

            “Okay,” Coran said, straightening his back. He’d been bent over a lab table he’d dragged in, Pidge at his side.

            Keith and Hunk looked up, eyebrows raised.

            “Is Lance gonna be okay?” Hunk asked.

            “Yes,” Coran said. “Well—yes, physically.”

            “What do you mean, yes physically?” Keith pressed. “What was in that dart?”

            “Easy, lad,” Coran said, voice softening. “The dart did indeed contain a fast-acting tranquilizing drug, which was what knocked Lance out. Unfortunately, it also contained a hallucinogen-type drug. The pod can only do so much to get rid of it—it’s the kind of drug that the body needs to get rid of itself.”

            “Does the hallucinogen do anything specific?” Hunk asked. “Because I know some guys at the Garrison would get into some messed up drugs, and that was back on Earth, which is way far behind on this stuff, apparently.”

            Coran frowned, and looked down at Pidge. Her face, too, was grim, but she was the one who steeled herself and leveled her gaze at Keith and Hunk.

            “It warps your perceptions,” she said slowly. “It makes you feel the opposite of what you’d normally feel in a situation. Like, if Lance were to be confronted with you, Keith, he’d probably try to kill you. Because normally he likes you. Strongly. So now he’d dislike you. Strongly. Instead of getting you out of harm’s way, he’d try to throw you into harm’s way.”

            The blood drained from Keith’s face.

            Hunk, the good friend he was, put an arm around Keith’s shoulders and decided to do the rest of the talking from here on out.

            “How much of the drug do you think’ll be left in his system when he gets out of the pod?” he asked. “Is it a lot, or a little, or…?”

            “Luckily, it was a small dose,” Coran said. “There’ll only be a bit left in his system, but we estimate that for an hour or so after he comes out, he won’t be himself. But the good news is, he won’t remember any of it. When his system is clear, it’ll be like he’s waking up for the first time.”

            “Is there any chance your predictions are wrong?” Keith asked, voice small. “Maybe he’ll be fine when he comes out?”

            “Potentially, but that likelihood is about three percent,” Coran answered, casting an apologetic look in Keith’s direction.

            “And how long before he’s out of the pod?” Hunk asked.

            “We’ve got about twenty minutes,” Pidge said.

            Twenty minutes. You have twenty minutes to kill.

            Part of Keith wanted to stay in the med bay for those twenty minutes, waiting until Lance would wake up, but if Lance was just going to lash out at Keith the moment he laid eyes on him…Keith didn’t want to put that kind of unnecessary trouble in Lance’s life. He stood up, shrugging off Hunk’s arm and walking out of the med bay, pulling his jacket tighter around him.

            He didn’t expect anyone to follow him, but moments later, two pairs of feet were hurrying after him, until Pidge and Hunk came to Keith’s sides.

            “Keith, I know you don’t like this, and trust me, neither do I,” Hunk said.

            Keith was on the verge of lashing out, but Pidge caught his arm and wouldn’t let go. “Keith. You need to talk about this. Destroying bots on the training deck will only get you so far.”

            Keith sighed in defeat and stopped walking, while Pidge and Hunk did the same. He started pacing, keeping his gaze on the ground. He needed to talk, yes, but he also needed a release for his energy, and if he couldn’t be on the training deck, then pacing was the next best thing.

            “You guys know I went to rescue Lance.”

            I’m really doing this, aren’t I?

            “Yeah. If you hadn’t gotten him out of there, he’d be with the Galra right now. Pidge and I wouldn’t have been able to make it in time,” Hunk said.

            Keith dragged a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand. It’s what I did when I rescued him. And then…something that happened afterward.”

            Neither Pidge nor Hunk said a word, and after two heartbeats, Keith kept going: “I got on the ground. Lance…he was already down, and people were still shooting, and three soldiers were moving in on him. I knew if I didn’t get him out of there, he was going right back to Lotor. I couldn’t let it happen, so I just…”

            Not a single one of these soldiers would get out of this alive. Especially not one trying to bring in more.

            One arm lopped off, two, his blade sliced three and Keith watched them all fall to the ground, a smirk cracking its way across his face. He brought his gaze back to the soldier ’s eyes—the soldier, who cried out and tried to get away from Keith and yelled for backup and twisted and grunted and then—

            Stopped moving.

            Keith ’s blade squelched as he pulled it out of the Eddulan’s chest, as the light winked out of the Eddulan’s eyes for good, and the body toppled to the ground not a foot away from Lance.

            You’re no better than the Galra.

            Keith shoved that thought down, down, down and away, kicked it to the darkest corner of his mind until it stopped trying to fight back and he left it there. He had a mission right now: get Lance to safety, be guilty later.

            The guilt now came crashing over his head, destroying the barriers he’d set up to keep it at bay. It smashed through Adrenaline, his first defense; broke Duty into pieces; tore through Kill or Be Killed; collapsed Team Above All; and left Lance’s Safety in splinters.

            “I killed three soldiers.”

            Keith’s voice dropped, so quiet he wasn’t even sure he’d actually said those words. “It wasn’t…detached, like it is when we’re in the Lions or on the defense drones. It was up close and personal. And…”

            Don’t say it.

            What are they going to think?

            How are they going to be able to look at you when you tell them you liked the way that soldier ’s blood spilled? That you liked the way their limbs fell to the ground?

            “…I didn’t…I didn’t exactly hate it. Not in the moment.”

            “Keith,” Hunk started, voice soft, but Keith held up a hand. If he didn’t get this out now, he wouldn’t get another chance to, at least not until he saw Lance again, and even then, maybe he wouldn’t tell Lance. Maybe he’d just remind Lance too much of Lotor…

            Oh my God.

            You ’re not Lotor, you were doing everything to defend Lance—

            You didn ’t have to be merciless.

            If you didn ’t get Lance out of there, he would be with the Galra right now, drugged and completely out of it.

            Was that soldier drugged?

            The floor came rushing up to meet Keith, a jolt going through him as his knees hit metal. Pidge and Hunk were at his sides immediately, Pidge resting a hand on his back, Hunk on his shoulder.

            “Keith, breathe,” Pidge said. “Come on, man. Deep breaths.”

            I need to finish, please just let me finish.

            “Please,” Keith whispered, hunching over himself. “I need to finish. I’m not done.”

            At this point, he wasn’t sure if he was talking to Pidge and Hunk, or himself.

            “It’s all right,” Hunk murmured. “Take your time, Keith. You’re okay.”

            It’s not all right.

            “Okay,” Keith repeated. “I’m okay.”

            “That’s it,” Pidge said encouragingly.

            Keith took in a few deep breaths, Pidge and Hunk silent the whole time, each of them keeping a reassuring hand on Keith.

            “Okay,” Keith said again. “I got Lance, and I brought him back here, and I was fine until I hit the elevator, and I was thinking that I never wanted to help the Eddulans. Not after they turned against us. And then I was trying to picture Shiro’s response, and…I got hit with a flashback. Full-blown. I was reliving all of it.”

            “Flashbacks,” Hunk muttered. “Noted. Okay. Talk us through it, Keith.”

            “It was the day of the rescue. You guys were there for most of it. But it was…it was when we were in the interrogation room, and Lance was ready to shoot me, under Haggar’s influence, and…I saw him fighting against it. I saw everything again. God, I…there was this moment. During the rescue. It was right before Lance shot at Lotor. Lotor had just…he’d just given the kill order.”

            Keith’s voice wavered, prompting a squeeze on the shoulder from Hunk.

            “It’s over now. It’s in the past. Keep going,” Hunk whispered to him.

            Keith nodded absently, digging his fingers into his arms to keep himself grounded.

            “I looked up at Lance, and it was him, and I knew it was him. He was in control, and the look he gave me…it told me to trust him and run with whatever he was doing. The day of the rescue, he shot at Lotor and then freed me and bought us the time to get out of there. In the flashback, he…”

            Keith’s throat seized, and his vision blurred. He dug his fingers harder into his arms, threatening to tear right through the fabric of his jacket.

            “I think we know what came next,” Pidge said quietly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it.”

            “It wasn’t real,” Hunk said. “Everyone’s here. Everyone’s safe.”

            Safe? Lance is drugged and could try and kill me the moment he comes out of the pod, but that’s safe?

            Keith, he ’s just trying to be helpful. Calm down.

            Calm down.

            Breathe.

            “I started wondering,” Keith whispered, “if maybe all of those soldiers were under some form of mind control. I wondered if the citizens of Eddul agree with what their leaders said. I wondered if I was too quick to turn against them. Because I tried to imagine the reaction from other people, if Lance had killed me and then you guys got him out. I wondered if people would be angry with him or would want to kill him for something out of his control. And then realized that could have been me. I could have killed a soldier who didn’t know better.”

            “You did what you had to do,” Pidge said.

            “No,” Keith muttered, shaking his head. “I didn’t have to be cruel. I looked the last soldier right in the eyes, Pidge! I watched them die!”

            To their credit, Pidge and Hunk only flinched, but neither one of them drew back, even when Keith’s shoulders tightened and his hands curled into fists. He stood up, shaking off their hands.

            “I-I’m sorry. I need to get to the training deck.”

            He walked fast, and when he heard the tentative footsteps starting behind him, he broke out into a sprint, furiously scrubbing one hand over his wet eyes.

            He was on training level four when he heard the commotion.

            “End training sequence!” he called to the training deck, and as usual, the bot that had been prepping to tackle him disappeared, right as the door to the training deck opened and Lance tore inside, Hunk and Pidge following him as fast as they could.

            Hunk was sporting a black eye, and Pidge was holding her side.

            “What the hell happened?” Keith asked, ducking out of the way as Lance rushed him.

            “He escaped on us, okay?!” Pidge said. “We thought we could handle it!”

            “Just get him down!” Hunk jumped in.

            Keith whipped his head around to see Lance, looking around the training deck, presumably trying to find a weapon. His eyes narrowed when they landed on Keith, who slowly approached Lance with his sword hanging at his side.

            “You,” Lance snarled.

            “How long’s he been out of the pod?” Keith called over his shoulder.

            “Fifteen minutes,” Pidge answered, wariness in her voice. “As soon as he got over the effects of being in the pod, he went to go give Hunk a hug and then punched him in the face.”

            “And then he kicked Pidge when we tried to hold him back,” Hunk added.

            Keith looked Lance over, and it made sense. Lance saw Hunk and Pidge as threats. So he’d assessed the best course of action for escape, and took it. But he hadn’t done so with the nerves Keith remembered riddling Lance when they’d been back on Lotor’s ship. Lance here was ready, ready to fight, ready to win. Expecting to win.

            Keith dodged Lance as Lance tried to rush him again, chest aching as the knowledge of it all settled over him. He’d known before, of course, that Lance had self-doubts. A lot. Too often. And clearly, Keith realized, he hadn’t done enough to help Lance out of it, because Lance was fighting him now with a lethal confidence, and a dazzling smile as his fist cracked along Keith’s jaw out of nowhere.

            Keith went down.

            “Lance, don’t,” Keith hissed, rolling out of the way as Lance tried to pounce, tried to pin Keith to the ground.

            Keith couldn’t fight Lance like this. Not with a sword while Lance was defenseless. He deactivated his bayard and slid it across the floor, calling out to Hunk or Pidge to grab it and take it out of here. Back to Keith’s room, where Lance wouldn’t be able to swipe it and use it for himself.

            “Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?” Lance snapped at him.

            Keith hadn’t thought to ask Coran if the drug pulled up older memories, and now he regretted it.

            If it did pull on another memory, would that memory stay warped? Or would Lance lose it entirely, the way he’d lose his memories of this moment? Or did old memories stay completely unaffected?

            “No,” Keith answered, getting to his feet.

            He ducked out of the way as Lance went in for a punch, and realized too late that Lance had faked him out, the real punch landing in his eye.

            He needed to get Lance down.

            “Liar,” Lance hissed. “You’ve ruined my life.”

            Tune him out, Keith.

            Keith remembered one day, coming off of their battle on Nivon, after they’d plotted the failed assassination attempt against Haggar. He and Lance had come to the training deck to spar, and Lance had wanted to practice with Keith, not the training bots. He wanted to simulate what it was like to be under attack from any angle. Under attack from someone who fought dirty.

            Keith squinted at Lance now, through his clear right eye and blurring left.

            “Did I?” Keith taunted.

            Lance came at him again, and this time, Keith waited until the last minute to side-step, and then swept his ankle under Lance’s. Lance grabbed at Keith’s arm on his journey to the floor, nearly ripping it out of Keith’s socket. Keith grunted and let himself fall, elbow smashing into Lance’s collarbone.

            When Keith heard the crunch, he grimaced.

            That would be another stay in a cryopod for Lance, and another few hours for Keith to burn on this deck.

            Lance took advantage of the hesitation and rolled, slamming his own arm into Keith’s windpipe, pinning Keith against the floor.

            “I hate you. You always have to be better than me, don’t you?” Lance snapped. “Better fighter pilot. Better Paladin.”

            Lance’s face was inches from Keith’s.

            “And until now, better fighter.”

            Keith had thought he’d seen it all back on Lotor’s ship, but this was worse.

            This was so much worse.

            Keith couldn’t even get a word out to defend himself, or to taunt Lance long enough to distract him, so that Keith could get up. He couldn’t move without risking snapping his neck, but if he didn’t move, then Lance would kill him, and then Lance would wake up and who the hell was going to explain to Lance what he’d done, and who would comfort him when he realized and—

            Keith gasped and bolted up as Lance let him go, sucking the air back to his lungs.

            I hate you.

            Keith looked around. Lance wasn’t on top of him, where had he…

            Oh.

            Hunk was breathing heavily. He’d yanked Lance off of the floor and now wrenched his arms back, cuffing his wrists together behind his back. The whole time he was muttering, “I’m sorry this hurts you more than it hurts me I’m sorry this is for your own good I’m so sorry I know you’re not in the right state of mind I’m so so sorry Lance.”

            I hate you.

            Lance looked between Keith and Hunk, shoulders bunched, eyes alight with a fire Keith had never seen. Ever.

            This was what it was like when Lance wasn’t holding back. This was what it would be like if Lance acted with reckless abandon in battle, acting on instinct instead of planning, acting on his emotions, acting…like Keith.

            I hate you.

            This isn’t Lance.

            I hate you.

            Stop it, Keith.

            “His collarbone,” Keith said, voice hollow. “Once this thing wears off, he needs to go back into the pod.”

            Hunk nodded. He swallowed hard, and Keith wondered if the only reason Hunk hadn’t said anything else was because Hunk didn’t trust himself to, didn’t trust his voice to remain steady and whole.

            This is my fault. I couldn’t get to him before he got hit with the dart.

            He won ’t blame you, you were in battle in the air.

            If you had just been a little quicker, you could have made it.

            Sleep. Keith needed sleep, he wasn’t thinking straight. Yeah, sure, back when he was by himself in the desert with no set plans for his days, other than to figure out what the strange energy in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere was, he’d been fine running on just a few hours of sleep. There’d been days he’d powered through all-nighters. But this long? What had it been? Thirty-six hours at least, had to be. Probably more. Maybe not forty-eight. It couldn’t have been two days they’d gone without sleep already.

            Still, since the last time he’d slept, he’d been through two battles, been on the training deck…this had to have been only twice, right?

            And now he’d almost died, because Lance almost killed him.

            Sorry, Lance did not almost kill him.

            Mind-Control-Lance almost killed him.

            I need sleep.

            Keith did not go to sleep.

            He stayed on the training deck for another hour with Hunk and Pidge and Lance. The four of them sat in a circle, Hunk holding back his best friend by wrapping his arms around him in what could have been easily misinterpreted by anyone walking in as a tight hug from behind.

            It was silent, for the most part, although every so often Lance would try to struggle and get out of his restraints, spitting insults at each one of them. His battle tactics carried over to his remarks; he knew where to strike, and he struck hard. He hit them all in their weakest spots—Pidge’s desperation to find her father, still missing out in space; Hunk, always having to point out something wrong with everything, holding the team back; and Keith, the orphan, who seemed incapable of holding onto a loved one for too long before they slipped away.

            The smirk of satisfaction upon Lance’s face would be burned into Keith’s mind forever.

            This isn’t Lance don’t listen to him you haven’t slept and you’re not thinking straight he doesn’t mean it it isn’t Lance—

            Keith pretended to be rubbing at his now-blackened eye, an eye that now matched Hunk’s and joined his hand scars and face scar and leg scar and how many scars do I have what the fuck in being yet another symbol of everything the Galra had done to him. After all, the Galra had allied with Eddul, had aided in pitting Eddul against them, and that was where Lance had taken the hit with the dart that turned him into…well, this.

            Lance somehow still noticed the tears in his eyes.

            “Oh, what’s this? Is the great Keith Kogane crying?”

            “That’s enough, Lance,” Hunk boomed.

            “Ooh, now he can’t even defend himself. Never thought I’d see the day,” Lance said. “Oh, wait, I have—”

            Hunk cupped a hand over Lance’s mouth.

            I have.

            A blaster aimed for his forehead, clear eyes asking him to trust him, and then he squeezed the trigger and Keith braced himself for the impact that did come, it did come, and the last thing he saw was Lance’s laughing face and—

            “Keith!”

            Pidge had Keith by the arms. She knelt in front of him, blocking him out from Lance’s view.

            “Hey, Keith! You didn’t tell me—”

            “Shut your fucking mouth, McClain!” Pidge yelled over her shoulder. She turned back to Keith. “Please. Dude. Go get rest. As soon as he shuts up and gets back to normal, we’ll get him back into one of the pods, and you can go see him when he comes out. I swear, one of us will come get you.”

            Keith didn’t argue. Couldn’t argue.

            “Do you need me to walk you back to your room?” Pidge offered quietly.

            Keith nodded. He didn’t trust himself to get there on his own. If left alone, he felt there was a chance he’d end up breaking down in the hallway, and then falling asleep against the wall.

            “Okay,” Pidge said. “Hunk, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

            Pidge stood up first, and then helped Keith to his feet. They made their way to his room in silence, Pidge’s arm around Keith’s waist for support the whole time. She didn’t leave his side until he’d gotten to his room, and eased himself onto his bed, and leaned back against the pillows.

            “Are you gonna be okay by yourself?” Pidge asked.

            “Just come get me when Lance is out of the cryopod,” Keith muttered.

            “…All right.”

            His door slid shut. His lights were bright, and wouldn’t shut off until the castle was on the night cycle—whenever that would be.

            Keith pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

            The Lance situation was yet another item on Keith’s long list of things that had gone wrong in his life. Of things he’d managed to go one step forward and two steps back on. He was just trying to come to terms with the fact that he might’ve loved Lance, and now the Galra had taken Lance and turned him against him and he’d thrown Keith’s insecurities back in his face.

            The tears came on again, and this time, Keith didn’t stop them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

            Lance was antsy by the time he came out of the cryopod for what was apparently the second time. He remembered going into it, after waking up on the floor of the training deck, Hunk’s arms around him and Pidge studying him curiously. He’d been in one of the cryopod jumpsuits then, and Pidge promised that everything would be explained after he got all healed up. Again.

            Hunk caught Lance when the cryopod opened, easing him onto his feet while the effects of being in the pod for a few hours wore off. Lance gave him a grateful smile, and then looked around the room, expecting to see the others. However, the only other person in the room was Shiro—also in a cryopod, still healing from whatever injuries he’d sustained during the fight.

            “Hunk, what happened out there?” Lance asked.

            “I think it’s better if you get dressed first, and then we can meet up with Keith and Pidge and tell you all about it,” Hunk said.

            Keith. He hadn’t been on the training deck when Lance came to, and the only thing he’d heard was that Keith was responsible for his broken collarbone. As for how that’d happened, Pidge and Hunk still had yet to explain.

            “Fine,” Lance said.

            Hunk brought Lance down to his room, and waited outside the door while Lance changed out of the cryopod suit and back into his t-shirt and jeans. He pulled on his jacket last, and he let Hunk lead him down to the lounge. Pidge and Keith were already waiting there. Where Pidge sat on the couches, Keith stood against the wall, arms crossed. He hardly looked up when Lance walked in, and made no move to greet him. Lance frowned, noting his red-rimmed, dark-circled eyes.

            And the black eye.

            One that matched Hunk’s.

            “Guys, this is killing me. What happened?” Lance asked, spinning around to get all three of his friends in his line of sight at once.

            “You might wanna sit down,” Pidge said gently.

            So Lance did. He sat down with his back to Keith, while Pidge and Hunk sat down on the couch opposite Lance. Keith made no move from his place against the wall, but Lance could feel Keith’s eyes on him.

            What had happened?

            “Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Lance asked again. “I don’t like this. I don’t like being kept in the dark.”

            Something sparked through his veins. His leg started bouncing, his fingers drumming against the couch.

            “Easy, buddy,” Hunk said.

            Lance made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. He couldn’t go easy. Telling him to calm down was the equivalent of forcing someone’s head underwater and then telling them not to breathe, and then doing everything you could to make them open their mouth and suck in water and drown and die.

            “Okay, you have to promise me not to freak out when we explain, okay?” Pidge said.

            “If you haven’t noticed, I’m already starting to freak out!” Lance interjected.

            Why were they so hesitant? Why wouldn’t Keith look at him? What had Lance done that his memory refused to show him?

            The water ’s closing in above your head, better take one last breath, silence fills you up and silence wrings you out—

            “You tried to kill me because the dart screwed with your brain!” Keith shouted. “There! Was that so hard, guys?”

            Lance turned around, startled. Keith had pushed away from the wall and thrown his hands up. He breathed hard, looking between Pidge and Hunk. Never once did he look at Lance.

            “I what?” Lance asked. He whipped around, to look at Pidge and Hunk.

            What do you mean I tried to kill Keith?

            Not again, please not again.

            Pidge took a deep breath and launched into her explanation, that the dart had not only knocked Lance out, but changed his perceptions of his situation, to the opposite of whatever they would have been. She explained how the drug was designed so that he wouldn’t remember a thing when he came out of it, which was why he only seemed to “wake up” on the training deck. He’d broken out of the pod room after punching Hunk in the face and kicking Pidge in the ribs, and then he’d gone to the training deck to look for a weapon.

            Then he’d fought Keith—which was how he’d broken his collarbone, and how Keith had gotten his black eye—and nearly killed him, and then spent part of an hour berating his friends once they’d gotten him into handcuffs and immobilized him.

            “What do you mean, berating?” Lance asked.

            “You said some pretty messed up things to us,” Hunk said softly. “You hit us in our weak spots.”

            Keith stifled a gasp. Lance barely had time to turn and look at him before Keith had darted out of the lounge. Lance stared after him, at the emptiness he left behind. This isn’t right.

            This isn ’t right at all.

            “Pidge, Hunk,” Lance said slowly, “tell me I didn’t mock Keith for losing everyone he cares about.”

            Hunk grimaced. “You did, buddy.”

            It felt as though somebody had dumped a bucket of ice water in Lance’s veins. No wonder Keith hadn’t wanted to talk to him. Hadn’t approached him at all. No wonder his eyes had been red, he’d probably been crying—

            “It’s not just that,” Pidge muttered. “He started crying. And then you mocked him for that. And then when Hunk went to defend him, you called him out for not being able to defend himself. You said, and I quote, ooh, now he can’t even defend himself. Never thought I’d see the day, oh, wait, I have.”

            “No,” Lance whispered. “No, no, nononono, no! Oh, jeez—will he even want to talk to me? I need to talk to him, but if he doesn’t wanna see me, then I don’t wanna just invade his personal space, I just…quiznak.”

            Lance buried his face in his hands.

            The couch sank down on his right, as Hunk sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

            “He’ll come around,” Hunk said. “If you want, I can go try and see if he wants to talk to you.”

            “No, no,” Lance muttered, without raising his head. “Leave him alone. What-what else has been happening while I was out?”

            He needed a change of subject. Something to take his mind off of Keith and the words he’d said to him and the guilty rush of relief that’d come over him when he realized he’d never have to know what Keith’s face looked like when he’d said those words to him, even though he could probably picture it. Picture the wide, watery eyes, and the utter shock, and probably some terror in there somewhere, and snap out of it, Lance.

            “Allura’s been combing through the stuff I pulled from Lotor’s ship,” Pidge said. “There’s something really important everyone needs to see, but Allura hasn’t mentioned it yet, probably because she knows Shiro is still in a pod. She said we’re taking the next two days off, and then we’re headed to Tarvin to secure an alliance with them before we make another move.”

            “What about the battle?” Lance asked. “I was knocked out before it was over.”

            “Bad loss,” Hunk said. “The Eddulans brought in their warships, and without you or Shiro, we couldn’t form Voltron. We had to retreat. We don’t know where Haggar is, or if she’s even alive, and we don’t know where Lotor is either, but Keith did blow up his escape pod on the way out.”

            Leave it to Keith.

            That at least got Lance to crack a smile into his hands, but it vanished just as quickly. He needed to talk to Keith. He couldn’t let Keith shut down the way he’d nearly done when Shiro’d disappeared.

            But still, if Keith didn’t want to see him…

            Lance stood up.

            “I’m going to my room to take a nap,” he announced. “If Keith comes looking for me, just send him there. I’m ready to talk whenever he is.”

            Hopefully, it would be soon.

            He didn’t wait for Pidge or Hunk to respond before he left the room. The hallways of the ship were silent and devoid of life—wherever Keith had gone, he’d gone in a hurry. Lance couldn’t blame him. He’d never blame him. Not when this was his fault for not paying close enough attention to his surroundings. Not when it was his fault for taking a dart to the face.

            If he hadn’t taken that dart, Keith could’ve gotten him out of there sooner, and Lance would have been out of the pods a lot sooner, and everything would’ve been fine. He could have been asleep already.

            Lance rounded the corner, to the hallway where the Paladins’ rooms were, only to pull up short at his own door.

            Keith paced outside of it, muttering to himself, shaking from head to toe.

            No, no, no, no…

            Keith never let anyone see him break down. Yeah, he could blow up and lose his cool, but he never crumbled. Not in front of other people. He was the fire underneath Team Voltron—always burning, never flickering out. So the fact that he’d broken down in front of Pidge and Hunk, and now stood out in plain sight for anyone to stumble upon, tore Lance’s heart in two.

            “Keith,” he said, and began jogging to his door. “Keith, oh my God.”

            Lance stopped just short of Keith, hesitating to touch him. But then Keith looked up, and Lance saw the tears streaking down Keith’s cheeks, and any self-restraint was gone. He threw his arms around the Red Paladin, and Keith gripped the front of Lance’s jacket. Lance moved slowly, opening up the door to his room, easing Keith inside without ever once letting him go. He shut the door, and that was when the dam finally broke.

            Keith gasped and went into hysterics.

            Never. He’d never seen Keith in this state, and it took all of Lance’s willpower to keep himself together. Keith had openly cried in front of him before—not silent tears, but real sobs. But this. Lance could have lived his whole life without ever hearing Keith like this.

            Lance started stroking Keith’s hair with one hand, and rubbing circles into his back with the other.

            “Shh, shh, I’m right here,” Lance whispered. “I’m right here. I’m sorry, Keith. I’m so sorry.”

            Lance held onto Keith for what had to be at least another ten minutes before Keith’s crying shifted into breathing on the verge of hyperventilating.

            “Deep breaths, man,” Lance whispered to him, drawing back to give Keith more air. “Deep breaths.”

            Keith nodded absently and sat up straighter, trying to take in as much air as he could.

            “Fuck,” Keith muttered, after a while. “Fuck—I’m sorry. I’m—fucking quiznak.”

            “It’s not your fault,” Lance said. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

            Keith shook his head—he still wouldn’t look Lance in the eyes.

            “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you back there. You couldn’t help…you couldn’t help what you did. I can’t get mad at you. It’s not fair to you. I’m sorry.”

            He’s not looking at you.

            “Keith, look at me,” Lance whispered. Please look at me.

            Keith hesitated still. Lance pressed his forehead to Keith’s and shut his eyes. His hands found Keith’s and started playing with his fingers—whether it was to calm Keith down, or to calm himself down, he wasn’t sure.

            Come on, Keith.

            “Listen,” Keith started, voice shaking. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

            No, no, nononono, don’t do this, don’t play this game with me.

            The possibilities ran wild in Lance’s head in the few seconds’ gap Keith took between speaking. Keith hated him. Keith couldn’t look at him the same after what Lance had done. This wasn’t going to work.

            “I can’t make you promise anything, but…try not to look differently at me for this,” Keith went on.

            Lance almost laughed.

            Maybe under different circumstances, if he didn’t feel like his soul was detaching from his body, he would’ve.

            I won’t. I swear I won’t.

            “Okay.” Lance’s response came out no more than a hoarse whisper.

            Lance opened his eyes, and found himself staring right into Keith’s.

            “I killed three soldiers. Up close. In cold blood,” Keith said, after a heartbeat. “They were surrounding you to take you away, and I killed them.”

            Keith took another unsteady breath, and then pulled himself out of Lance’s grip altogether.

            “Keith—”

            Lance reached out for Keith, faltering when Keith flinched away from him and drew his knees to his chest. His gaze dropped to the floor, to the cold metal most of the ship was made of. Lance could only watch him, heart crawling into his throat.

            “I watched the last one die. And I didn’t hate it. I—fuck. Lance, I enjoyed it, all right?”

            Lance’s heart tripped. If it had been in two pieces before, it was fracturing again, breaking down into four, eight, sixteen…

            His voice went quieter, “Not…not a lot. But enough to be worried. And then I brought you back to the ship. And I had a flashback, to the day we escaped. Everything was the same up until Lotor told you to kill me. I looked at you.”

            Keith did look at Lance then, raising his head and locking his glassy eyes on the Blue Paladin.

            “I looked at you and I saw you, silently asking me to trust you. And then…you shot me in the head.”

            Time slowed, and the world fragmented around Lance. Bits of the ceiling fell to the jagged fissures opening in the ground, the blankets on his bed turned to nothing but dust, rising in a cloud around him. The temperature plummeted, and Lance shivered, and Keith seemed to get further and further away from him.

            You shot me in the head.

            He could never. He—but he almost had, hadn’t he? So many times he could’ve killed Keith, so many times he’d tried, so many times he’d come close to succeeding. And still, Keith chose to come to him and open up to him—

            Until now.

            The distance yawned between them, as Lance’s vision tunneled, and Keith started sounding further away…

            The bed shifted, Lance sinking deeper into it as Keith stood up and Lance snapped from his stupor.

            “Wait, Keith,” Lance said, and his arm shot out to grab Keith’s wrist. “Don’t go. Please. I’m sorry. I won’t—I don’t see you differently. You did what you had to do. If you didn’t get me out of there, then…think about what would’ve happened if Lotor had gotten to me. The drug is supposed to make you act the opposite of how you actually would, right? I-If I got stuck with him…I don’t know what would’ve happened. You saved me, okay?”

            Lance stood up and pulled Keith into another hug, and he worried for a moment that Keith would pull away and try to leave, and Lance would have to give him his space and let him go.

            But that never happened.

            Keith hugged back tight, hands practically digging into Lance’s back, clutching at his jacket. He was breathing hard again, the sound of someone trying to hold it together.

            “You saved me, Keith,” Lance said again, voice a whisper this time. “And we’re all back in the castle now. I’m fine now, but what I said to you earlier was unacceptable, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. But I’m fine now. Just…please don’t go? Stay here with me? You and I both need rest, and…I don’t want to be alone.”

            Lance broke apart the hug, long enough to look Keith in the eyes. Please stay.

            “Are you sure?” Keith asked quietly.

            “It helped me sleep better last time, and I know it helped you, too,” Lance said. “I’m positive.”

            Keith nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.”

            So Lance kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket and climbed into his bed, scooting over toward the wall to give Keith room. Keith took off his boots and his belt with his knife and set them next to the bed and climbed in next to Lance. This time, neither one was hesitant about pressing up against the other. Lance wrapped his arms around Keith, and Keith took hold of Lance’s hands, and soon enough, both of them were blissfully unconscious.

            Lance couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up from a deep sleep on his own. Usually, he’d wake up to the blaring of the castle’s alarms, or to Coran or Allura making some announcement, or to the ship jolting after taking fire in a surprise attack by the Galra. This time, though, he woke up slowly, the castle in its sleep cycle—although, the cycles didn’t really matter at this point. This was war, and the Paladins would get sleep whenever they could.

            Lance squinted in the dark, and found that Keith didn’t have his back to him like he did before. At some point, Keith had rolled over. His hair fell off to the side, just out of the way of his face, which was hardly an inch away from Lance’s. Lance studied him; Keith looked a lot more peaceful in his sleep, even with the dark circles like bruises under his eyes, even with a real bruise around his left.

            I did that.

            That knot of dread in his stomach, the one that never quite seemed to go away, pulled tighter with that knowledge. Even if Lance hadn’t been in control, his fist caused that damage. His mouth uttered words that cut Keith where it hurt the most. He’d been the reason Keith had had to kill those three soldiers. He was the reason for everything. Every scar Keith had, every new terror that plagued Keith’s mind, was because he was trying to protect Lance.

            I’m so sorry, Keith.

            Keith didn’t deserve any of this. Not after all he’d suffered through, and all he’d still have to suffer through until the war was over. He’d been through enough, and if Lance was just going to cause him more pain…

            “Hey.”

            The soft whisper caught Lance off-guard, and he found himself staring into Keith’s open eyes. A blush worked its way into Lance’s cheeks.

            “H-Hey.”

            Keith smiled, and Lance’s heart stammered. It was the same sleepy smile Lance had seen all the time growing up—it was the smile his parents gave each other in the early morning, when breakfast was being made and the house was warm and the kids, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the most ungodly hours, laughed and giggled and discussed their plans for the day.

            It occurred to him then that he wouldn’t mind seeing that smile on Keith’s face more often. Especially if he saw that smile under these circumstances—in bed, under warm blankets, faces close enough to touch—

            Oh no.

            “How long have you been up?” Keith asked, voice still quiet and sleep-husky.

            This is not happening.

            “Just a few minutes,” Lance managed. “N-Not even that, really. Guess we’re pretty in sync.”

            Don’t. Don’t do this to yourself, Lance.

            If circumstances were different, maybe Lance would’ve allowed his fantasies to run wild. It’d happened plenty of times before, especially back on Earth, when his biggest ambitions (after having most of his hopes and dreams crushed by Iverson’s School of Disappointment) were maybe flying out just beyond Pluto. Maybe. If that. Back then, he’d had a foreseeable future, and could afford to toy around with the idea of settling down with someone in five, maybe ten years.

            This was a lot different. Here, he was seventeen and fighting a war, and each day had the chance to be his last.

            Keith was also different.

            In his time on Earth, Lance had had plenty of insignificant relationships, and one serious one, a serious one that ended in devastating heartbreak and two empty tubs of ice cream in one sitting and a straight week of being on the beach past two in the morning. That one time, he did let his mind run around with the possibilities of what could’ve been, only for everything to go down in flames.

            He couldn’t afford to imagine the same things with Keith.

            Not here. Not when either of them could die on any given day.

            Not when they didn’t even know if they’d truly work out back on Earth.

            Because what if they didn’t? What if they returned to Earth and returned to the Garrison and suddenly, everything fell back into its old place? Keith would be ahead of him, and Lance would spend every waking moment of his day striving to reach his level, feeling like more and more of a failure and then—

            Stop. Stop it.

            That was months in the past.

            Things were different now.

            He was a Paladin of Voltron and had earned the trust of two semi-sentient flying robotic lions. He’d saved countless planets from a hostile alien race, and he’d almost taken down one of their biggest roadblocks in taking down the empire run by the aforementioned hostile alien race. And he’d somehow managed to get under the skin of the current emperor.

            Things. Were. Different.

            Things were a lot more immediate and too much in Lance’s face for him to be worrying about a future, whether or not Keith was included in that future.

            I want Keith in that future.

            Lance’s heart refused to stop racing. How could he be sure of that? What if he’d just chosen Keith because Keith was the only option? Pidge and Hunk were like his siblings, and Shiro was like a dad or an older brother, and Allura was out of the question. But Keith? Keith.

            Oh my God, you need to stop.

            Lance knew he was lying to himself. He’d seen many reaches of the universe, seen plenty of available aliens, and then once—if—he got back to Earth, there would be plenty of people tripping over themselves to get to Lance, and Lance found that he couldn’t bring himself to imagine being with anyone else but Keith. Who else would understand him when he brought up these adventures? Who else would understand his occasional nightmares?

            …Why did you just think about that?

            “Lance?” Keith asked tentatively. “You okay?”

            I think I just realized I’m in love with you.

            “Yeah,” Lance answered, voice strained. “Just, ah, spacing out.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

            Without Haggar and without an escape pod—which, seeing as the debris of it was partially melted, it appeared the Red Paladin had damaged it—Lotor had had to convince the Eddulans to bring him back to his main ship. Every soldier around him was all too eager to give the emperor himself an escort back, but it was still much too late. His main ship could not leave without him, and between the delay of getting back to his pod, only to find it destroyed, and asking someone to aid him, his ship could not chase after the Castle of Lions. Which meant the Paladins had gotten away in one piece.

            Again.

            Well, maybe not the Black Paladin. Lotor had done a decent number on that one that left the Yellow Paladin at a loss for what to do. The memory of his anguished face, seeing his leader on the ground, was the only upside to this entire situation. Lotor brooded about it the whole way back to his main ship, as he remembered the many things that went wrong. He had no head druid, no sword, no pod, and still no Blue Paladin at his side.

            Of every failed attempt so far, this one was the worst. He’d been right there.

            Lotor let that thought simmer, as he boarded his ship. No one came to greet him, or ask their illustrious leader where he’d been. Every guard and officer he passed stiffened at the sight of him. Whispered conversations that’d been happening hushed as soon as people noticed his presence.

            Except for the ill-fated conversation on the bridge, between two of his more high-ranking officers.

            “You’d think for a guy who snapped at us to let Voltron go and just leave it alone, he’d stop running after the damn thing,” one of them was saying, the other nodding in agreement before chiming in, “It’s because of that Lance guy. If you dangle him in front of Lotor’s face, he forgets anything.”

            Oh?

            The other officers on the bridge seemed to notice, and hissed to their comrades to be quiet and would you two shut up and holy fuck Lotor’s gonna tear them a new one and then one officer even ventured, they’re both gonna die.

            “Forget anything, you say?” Lotor spoke up, striding forward. “You mean, like how I handle insubordination? Or how I handle incompetent officers?”

            Both of the officers looked at each other, and then at Lotor, and the whole room grew quiet, save for the whirring of the computers and the hum of the ship’s engines.

            “Does anyone else think of me this way?” Lotor called out, voice echoing in the silence. “Does anyone else find me rash? Forgetful?”

            He wondered how many of them realized that Haggar was gone, or how many of them realized he stood before them weaponless. If even just these two officers attacked now, if no one stopped them, they’d be able to successfully stage a coup. And yet, no one spoke up. No one dared to move.

            “Maybe I’ll tell the public you’re with the Blade of Marmora,” Lotor said, stepping closer to the two officers now.

            His eyebrows shot up when one of them, panic-stricken, whispered to the other, “How did he know?” and the other replied, “Shut your mouth!”

            He smiled at them, and cocked his head to the side. He found that to be a very effective method of intimidation, and for now, it worked.

            “I actually didn’t know. Thank you for the confirmation.”

            The two officers looked between each other again; Lotor noted their body motions. They were preparing to rush him, to draw their blasters and attack.

            “Guards,” Lotor said, “take them to the cells. Make sure they don’t get away.”

            And then they did rush him. Lotor side-stepped one and ended up right in the path of the other. He ducked underneath a shot from their blaster and swept his leg out, catching the one officer by surprise and sending them crashing into the second. Seconds later, Lotor’s guards were on them, seizing them and disarming them and dragging them out of the room.

            Lotor waited for the dust to settle, for the silence to take back over as every other soul on the bridge turned to stare at him.

            “Does anyone else have a problem with the way I’m running things? Would you like to join those members of the Blade of Marmora?” he asked.

            Nobody dared to speak.

            “Just as I thought,” Lotor said. “Now, back to work. Set a course for Tarvin Three. And set up a transmission with our contact.”

            Neither Lance nor Keith went back to sleep, nor did either one of them move from the bed. They’d fallen into silence for a while, and Lance wasn’t sure how long they’d been awake for, staring at each other in the darkness, before Lance removed one of his arms from where it had been around Keith’s waist. He brought his hand to Keith’s face, tentatively tracing a thumb over his blackened eye, and then over the raised skin of the scar on Keith’s nose.

            “I’m sorry for these,” Lance whispered to him.

            Keith brought up his own hand, wrapping his fingers gently around Lance’s wrist.

            “Don’t be,” he said. “They just mean I did my job, and you’re safe.”

            Lance pursed his lips. So many questions that he wanted to ask Keith burned at the back of his mind. Each one had the chance to ruin everything, each one had the chance to send one of them out of here a frustrated mess.

            “Why do you keep doing this?” Lance finally settled on a question.

            Keith’s eyebrows knitted in tired confusion. “Doing what?”

            “You keep letting yourself get hurt because of me,” Lance muttered. He’d been blushing for a while now, but his face grew hotter as he clarified, and he instantaneously regretted asking anything in the first place. “I know you can be reckless sometimes, but…”

            “Because I care about you, dumbass,” Keith said, voice still soft. “And you’ve been letting yourself get hurt, too. Just not always physically.”

            Lance made a noise in the back of his throat. He’d been prepared for some cheesy and heroic, nonchalant answer like we’re Paladins of Voltron, and I’d do anything to keep the team safe. He hadn’t expected Keith to say…well, that. Or call him out.

            Because I care about you, dumbass. Lance took the words echoing in his head as some warped form of encouragement. He steeled himself and took a breath, and unknowingly threw out the question that’d been nagging at Keith the most.

            “Um. I’ve been wondering…w-what happens when this is over? The war, I mean. If we ever get back to Earth. What happens between us?”

            “Oh.”

            Keith laughed, involuntarily, nervously.

            Then he quieted and swallowed, throat bobbing. “I’ve, ah, been meaning to…to ask the same question. Actually.”

            “Oh,” Lance said, echoing Keith’s words.

            Keith changed his grip on Lance, fingers sliding from his wrist to his hand. “What do you want to happen between us?”

            Why did you do this? Why did you start this conversation?

            “I don’t know,” Lance said, a reflex, and he damn well knew it.

            He could feel the change in Keith in just the way his grip on his hand slackened. Even in the dark, he could see Keith’s pupils dilate.

            “Wait, wait, wait,” Lance whispered to him. “D-Don’t freak out. I-I don’t, I mean…I…”

            Lance had two options before him: back out and let Keith’s mind run wild, or talk about this and get it out of his system so he could rest easier.

            “We’re seventeen, I know,” Lance finally said. “Granted we survive the war, we’ve still got long lives. Hopefully. At least, we should still have long lives. Seventeen…it’s early to be making a decision. Especially about, you know, the future and all that. What I’m gonna do when I can’t run around in space anymore, and I have to settle down. But…I tried to picture being on Earth, and making a life for myself, and…I tried to picture you not there. And it didn’t feel right.”

            Keith blinked at him. Lance knew that he was not imagining the tears gathering at the corners of Keith’s eyes.

            When did he become a big softy?

            “Back on Lotor’s ship,” Lance went on, “he came to my cell. It was after they took you for interrogation. He started talking to me, and then he threatened me. He asked me if I had anything to go back to on Earth. I thought about you. I thought about spending time getting to know you and being your boyfriend and exploring whatever this is. That way, we can see…y’know, if this works out. And if, if it doesn’t, I still want to be friends, I mean, I told you I’d always be here for you, and we’re both kind of Paladins of Voltron, and that’s a hard bond to break…but, yeah, that’s…that’s what I want between us. And I hope that’s what you want, too. If it’s not, I-I can back off, a-and—”

            Lance didn’t even notice that Keith had let go of his hand and gripped the front of his shirt until their faces were even closer, foreheads pressed together, and Lance could see that those were definitely tears in Keith’s eyes.

            “Me too,” Keith whispered. “That. That’s what I want.”

            Both of them could hear the unspoken words hanging between them: I want it to work out.

            “Can I kiss you?” Keith asked.

            “Mhm,” Lance answered, and Keith yanked Lance forward and closed off the distance between them.

            Almost immediately after he’d done that, Allura made an announcement over the intercoms, to say that Shiro was finally out of his pod, and the Paladins needed to come to the bridge immediately. Startled, Lance and Keith pulled away from each other.

            “Really? Now?” Keith called to the intercoms, rolling onto his back. “Come on, Allura!”

            Despite everything that’d happened between the two of them in just the few hours before that Pidge had seen them, Lance and Keith still managed to stumble onto the bridge with arms draped around each other, trying to shake off their sleepiness—or, at least, feigned sleepiness. But at least they looked better now. No more crying or swearing or being so worried about breaking the other one just by breathing on them. Pidge shook her head at it instead of taking the time to marvel. This was Lance and Keith, after all. Lance had a way of making the best out of a bad situation, and Keith was a study in survival. It made sense that if anyone could make their situation work, it would be them.

            “That’s everyone,” Allura remarked, grabbing Pidge’s attention. “Paladins, eyes forward.”

            Pidge’s eyes were already forward. Around her, the others shifted where they sat or stood to look to the front of the bridge. Allura buzzed with energy, and she shot a look at Pidge, knowing Pidge had seen the footage everyone else was about to see—she was the one that had received it first.

            “So as you all know, Pidge’s role during much of the fight was to pull information from Prince Lotor’s ship,” Allura said, and then paused, frowned, corrected herself, “Err, Emperor Lotor’s ship.”

            “I think Mister Loser is a good name for him,” Lance called out.

            Pidge made a mental note of that, and added it to the list of ridiculous names to call Lotor that she’d been compiling in her free time.

            “Right,” Allura said, somewhat dismissively. “Pidge pulled a multitude of information from Lotor’s ship, with the aid of a member of the Blade of Marmora. Pidge, would you care to elaborate?”

            “Sure,” Pidge said, and turned to face the rest of the group. “So you remember that Marmorite, Tiva? The one who stopped the Eddulans from hacking us? Well, she figured out I was hacking into the ship, and instead of turning me in or cutting me off, she started helping me cover my tracks and actively feeding me information. And she sent us a video. She said the video needs to be sent out across the galaxy as soon as possible, and she knows we’re pretty much the only people who can accomplish that. I’ve got the original file and several copies, and we’re gonna need to send it to our allies and put it on blast. It’s pretty wild, and might change things for us.”

            “Pretty wild?” Keith questioned.

            “It’s better if you just watch,” Pidge responded.

            She gestured to Allura, who started the recording. As usual, it filled up the main window of the bridge.

            “Wait a minute,” Hunk said, “are these Zarkon’s chambers? Is that Zarkon?”

            “Yep,” Pidge said. “And look who shows up.”

            Every person on the bridge fell silent, watching the recording of Lotor breezing to his father’s bedside. He began bragging about his accomplishments, about having Lance under his control and nearly killing Keith.

            “Did he just say I’m the weakest link of Team Voltron?” Lance asked. “He spent an entire day kissing my butt! He didn’t even know who I was!”

            Weakest link? Absolutely not. Pidge didn’t have the time to interject it before Lotor continued, but she hoped Lance knew that he was just as important and strong as the rest of them. That maybe not a few months ago, but now, Pidge got restless knowing her pseudo-brother was suffering.

            “You missed such a…beautiful asset to the Empire,” recording-Lotor went on, and allowed plenty of time for Lance and the others to make commentary as he zoned out, a faraway look coming over his features. Like he was dreaming.

            Pidge cut her eyes back to Lance, who had put a second arm around Keith, and seemed to shrink against him. Keith just pulled him closer, an unmistakably murderous glint in his eyes as he stared at recording-Lotor.

            “Why is he so skeezy?” Hunk muttered.

            “I don’t know, but I’m gonna kick his ass,” Keith said, voice cold.

            Recording-Lotor started talking again. This time, he went on some spiel about Haggar that made it sound like Lotor and Haggar did not get along as well as they projected. He made this speech while unsheathing his sword, which earned an audible gasp from Hunk, and a raising of the eyebrows from Shiro, while Keith and Lance both gaped, faces almost mirror images. Allura narrowed her eyes, because she’d already seen this before and knew what was coming. Coran looked haunted.

            “You said weakness is a disease, and disease must be eradicated before it can spread.”

            Recording-Lotor continued with his speech, sauntering toward his father’s life support machines and then slashing the main control panel, short-circuiting the whole system and making Zarkon spasm in his bed. Pidge grimaced as the high-pitched whine started again—no matter how many times she’d watched, it still grated on her ears. Lance and Hunk jumped. Keith swore.

            “You’re weak.”

            If this had been a movie that Pidge had written, she would’ve had Lotor kill Zarkon right then and there. But as dramatic as Lotor was, he had an awful sense of timing, and kept rambling, dangling his sword over Zarkon while the Paladins watched, jumpy with anticipation.

            “Good night, Father.”

            “Holy shit!” Keith shouted, at the same time that Shiro gasped, and Hunk called out “No way!” and Lance drained of all color, and Coran was stunned into silence, and Allura stared with hard eyes at the screen.

            “It was a shame I had to do that, Father. Maybe you should have been paying closer attention to your son.” Lotor swaggered out of the room, remorseless and with a bloody blade sitting in a sheath at his waist.

            Pidge’s stomach roiled yet again at the knowledge that that same bloody blade was sitting on the bridge at this very moment, right at her feet. Pidge had shown it to Allura the moment she set foot back on the bridge, and then stashed it under her control panel. She kicked it now with her boot, before swallowing back her revulsion and lifting it up.

            “Behold,” she said, voice holding much less sarcasm than she’d been aiming for, “the murder weapon.”

            When Pidge had swiped the blade from the battlefield, she hadn’t noticed all the stains along the blade. All she’d noticed was that it was buried in Lance’s hand, and causing Lance pain, and she needed to remove it. Once she’d removed it, she decided to keep it, because the only other alternative was giving it right back to Lotor, and that seemed counterproductive.

            “Why do you have that?” Keith asked.

            Pidge didn’t get the chance to answer. Lance removed one of his arms from around Keith and slowly held up his scarred hand.

            “When Lotor got away from Hunk and came after me, he pinned my hand to the ground with his sword. That’s how I got the scar. Pidge came and saved me. You know, before I ran right back into the danger.”

            Keith reached out to take Lance’s scarred hand, and Pidge shot a look at Allura, silently asking her to move things along before the Paladins could get caught up in this soap opera.

            “So as you can see,” Allura said, catching Pidge’s eyes and nodding in her direction. “We’ve been handed incriminating evidence that Lotor killed the Emperor. I’ve gotten into contact with Kolivan to pass along the message that the Blade has not acted against his will, and sent him a copy of the recording. He promised to spread it. Our next move is getting this to the Nivonians and the Olkari, since as our allies with the best military and communications, they have the best chance of spreading the word. We shall put this message out for the entire galaxy to see, and hopefully, it will turn many against Lotor.”

            “And,” Shiro jumped in, “seeing as Zarkon is dead and Haggar is lost, if the people can’t turn to Lotor, there will be a power struggle in the Empire, and people will turn to Voltron.”

            Hopefully, Pidge added in her head. If it didn’t generate more support for Lotor as a no-nonsense, take action kind of guy. If it didn’t turn Team Voltron’s efforts into a smear campaign and get even more planets to turn against them. Pidge didn’t think the team could handle another betrayal. They’d been warned, going into Eddul, that they’d been betrayed and they’d still had to retreat. Pidge didn’t want to imagine a betrayal with no warning.

            Word got around to the other members of the Blade of Marmora quick enough, what’d happened to Pinene and Kilzee on the bridge. Cosso and Mirak had been there to witness it all, and recounted it to Tiva and Bix later that day, as the guards and officers rotated positions. Everyone had been gossiping on the bridge, Marmorites and non-Marmorites alike, about what were to happen if Lotor just didn’t come back. Word had come in quickly enough about Haggar, and then when they’d heard the Red Paladin blew up Lotor’s pod, well…

            If Lotor had been there, everyone would have been dead. There’d been raucous laughter. Remarks about how weak Lotor was. Some fearful muttering from the more loyal officers about the fate of the empire, because it was clear that either this idiot was going to run it into the ground if he came back, or Voltron was going to smash it to pieces if Lotor never returned. Unfortunately, Kilzee and Pinene had gotten so lost in their fantasizing and trash-talking that neither one of them had been able to shut up when Lotor came onto the bridge.

            It had all gone downhill from there, and their executions were now set for late tonight.

            “So what’s our move?” Bix, the smallest Marmorite and another of Lotor’s hackers, asked.

            Cosso, the biggest of them, looked over his shoulder, just to make sure they weren’t being watched. They were supposed to have already gotten to their next shifts, but this was much too important.

            “Tiva,” Cosso said, “has the Castle of Lions put out the broadcast yet?”

            Tiva shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

            “Find out,” Cosso ordered. “You and Bix must also find out their next moves and make sure the Empire cannot sabotage them.”

            Tiva and Bix nodded, and Cosso ordered them away, off to their next post.

            “What of us?” Mirak asked, crossing her arms.

            “Sabotage the emperor at any chance we get. You had a very close call earlier. Be glad Tiva managed to shut down the Eddulans before Lotor realized you lied to him,” Cosso said. “Once we get things sorted out, and the Paladins have a guaranteed victory, we get out of here and back to Kolivan.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

            In the wake of the footage of Zarkon’s murder, the Paladins got moving, their sights now set on spreading the footage to allies, and then to the galaxy, and getting a transmission to Tarvin. Allura ordered Pidge to get the footage out to Nivon and the Olkari, at the very least. The Nivonians and the Olkari had the biggest militaries and the best communications systems out of anyone in the still-small Voltron Alliance, and would have the best chance at spreading the footage rapidly. At the same time, Allura ordered Coran to try and get a transmission out to Tarvin.

            Tarvin’s planetary chain was made up of four planets, each lovingly given its own unique name: Tarvin One, Tarvin Two, Tarvin Three, and Tarvin Four. Tarvin Two was apparently the center of Tarvin’s political operations, and that was where Coran was now trying to get a message to.

            “Are you gonna be okay?” Keith asked Lance.

            Despite the fact that both of them had mostly calmed down at this point, Keith and Lance still clung to each other, Lance’s head making its home in the crook of Keith’s neck, his arms making a home around Keith’s waist. Keith’s hand firmly clutched the back of Lance, and Keith didn’t intend on removing it until he was given the go-ahead, because as far as he was concerned, Lance still needed it.

            “Yeah,” Lance said, slowly removing his arms from Keith. “Yeah, I’m gonna be okay. You’re right here.”

            Keith waited to remove his arm from Lance until Lance was back at full height. Even when he did, they were still practically joined at the hip, less than a foot of space between them, hands close enough for their fingers to brush. From the front of the bridge, Shiro studied the both of them, but his eyes must have lingered too long. Keith caught his gaze and crossed his arms.

            “Did you need something, Shiro?”

            I knew you cared about him, but I didn’t realize how clingy you were. The thought never made it past Shiro’s lips. Not only because this wasn’t really the time or place, but because how did he miss that? How did he miss Keith going from touch-averse to spending every moment he could holding onto Lance? He was proud of Keith, really, he was, but…how had he missed that progression?

            It’s because you spend every waking minute planning your next move, and every other minute trying to get some shut-eye.

            The thought hit Shiro like a train. What else was he missing? He spent so little time with the other Paladins outside of battle, save for training, save for the day they’d had the chance to sit down and talk about their feelings (where he knew all of them were still holding back, or at the very least, Keith was still holding back). What other things had he overlooked?

            “No,” Shiro said, and settled on a smirk to mask any discomfort. “We need to talk later, Keith.”

            Keith groaned as Shiro turned back around, and Shiro could feel the daggers Keith was shooting at him.

            “All righty then,” Coran said, looking between Shiro and Keith. “Now that whatever that was is all settled, I’m establishing the connection to Tarvin Two. Is everyone ready?”

            The Paladins murmured their agreement, and a few seconds later, the screens on the bridge came to life, showing a whole group of people. Just as Allura stood center-screen in front of her Paladins, so did one of the many Tarvinians before them.

            The Tarvinians were almost humanoid, looking much like what could have happened if humans had procreated with velociraptors or alligators, or even lizards, instead of other humans. They had semi-scaly skin in a variety of dusty colors—some coppery, some tan, others gray, and a few greenish—and long tails. Their hands ended in hooked claws. Their mouths rested underneath elongated noses, and their eyes, similar to the Eddulans, had slitted pupils.

            “Greetings. I am Princess Allura of Altea, and these are the Paladins of Voltron, and we come to you with an urgent message,” Allura said, once she was certain the Tarvinians could hear them. The Tarvinian at the front of the group smiled.

            “Salutations, Princess Allura. I am Chancellor Verna of Tarvin, and I am joined by representatives from across our four planets. To what do I owe the pleasure of making your acquaintance?” the Tarvinian said.

            Allura launched right into her explanation of the situation at hand. She started with a brief preface on Lance and Keith’s infiltration of Lotor’s ship and the plan the Galra had for taking Voltron, and then went into their more recent encounters with the Galra on Nivon and Eddul, leaving out the steps taken by the Blade of Marmora. Afterward, she explained her offer: an alliance with Tarvin that would guarantee Tarvin’s safety would be protected by Voltron, and a friendship with every other member of the Voltron Alliance.

            “If you wish to speak of this any further, in person, we could arrive on your planet within the next quintent,” Allura said. “However, we will need a full guarantee of our own safety. And should this guarantee be violated, there will be repercussions, and a revocation of any and all agreements made. I apologize, but we cannot take any chances.”

            Chancellor Verna studied the Paladins on the bridge, face softening. She’d probably taken note of the dark smudges under everyone’s eyes, of the ways they struggled to pull their shoulders back and stand up straight and keep neutral smiles plastered on their faces.

            “Of course. You have been through much, it appears,” Chancellor Verna said. “I will ensure your safety, Princess. You will have a military escort right to our headquarters. We just request that you send another transmission with your location when you are prepared to enter the atmosphere. If you find that you are under attack or anyone has violated our terms of agreement, please, do not hesitate to speak out.”

            Allura smiled up at the screen and bowed slightly. “Thank you, Chancellor. We will be speaking again soon.”

            Chancellor Verna bowed back, and the transmission cut off there. Allura turned back to the Paladins and let her shoulders sag, as she let go of a breath she’d been holding.

            “All right. We have about a day to relax. No more training. You all have been through enough, and until we know of Haggar’s whereabouts, we shouldn’t need to worry about anyone getting into our heads. Your only orders now are to go and rest before we get to Tarvin Two. Go on. That means you, too, Shiro,” she said.

            “And what about you?” Shiro asked.

            Allura waved him off. “I’ll be joining you all shortly.”

            Good enough for the Paladins. All of them—even Shiro—headed off of the bridge and out into the halls of the castle. Shiro brought up the rear of the group, and watched Keith and Lance, maybe ten feet ahead of him. They spoke quietly to each other, fingers intertwined. Shiro didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he needed to do this before things got chaotic again.

            “Keith,” he called, and the two of them stopped and turned around. Shiro rubbed the back of his neck. “Can I talk to you?”

            Keith traded glances with Lance, but Lance just shrugged and smiled.

            “I’ll be with Pidge and Hunk,” he said, and let go of Keith’s hand, and jogged down the hall, trying to catch up with the other two Paladins, leaving Keith no choice but to talk to Shiro.

            As with most everything else Lotor did, the emperor needed to make a damn spectacle out of the executions, and that was how Tiva found herself sitting in front of a computer monitor in one of the control rooms—the door bolted shut, obviously—with Bix, Cosso, and Mirak surrounding her. A feed of the arena sat in front of them, where Kilzee and Pinene stood center, chained, surrounded by guards. Many more guards than had been present when Baeva had been executed.

            “He’s really bulked up on the security, huh,” Bix remarked. “I didn’t think he’d actually do it.”

            Neither did Tiva.

            On the screens before them, the four Blade members watched Lotor stride forward, a new weapon in hand. It was a sword, as per the usual, but not the one he always carried. Not the one that’d killed Baeva and Zarkon. Not the one that had injured three of the five Paladins within the last Spicolian movement. This one was clearly taken from the training deck, because the Green Paladin had apparently stolen his favored sword.

            “Today!” Lotor’s voice boomed around the arena. “Today, fellow Galrans, we rid ourselves of two more traitors to the Empire! We cleanse ourselves of this disease, futilely trying to work its way through our ranks! These officers are guilty of treason. Of attempted murder. Of sabotage. These officers are not one of us! They are with the Blade of Marmora, and today, we send them a message! The Empire! Will always! Triumph!”

            Bix dragged a hand down her face. “Why is he always like this?”

            “Better for us,” Mirak responded, narrowing her eyes, arms crossed. “The more he focuses on his theatrics, the more he loses sight of what he’s doing. Look.”

            Mirak uncrossed her arms and pointed out one of the officers holding back Kilzee.

            They were unchaining her, either so subtly that no one standing next to them noticed, or with the approval of everyone else.

            “They’re not with the Blade, are they?” Cosso whispered in disbelief.

            Tiva almost smiled.

            “No, Cosso. No they are not. I think they’re realizing their emperor is more of a danger to the Empire than we are.”

            It was going to come to this sooner or later. Keith had always known that. After all, Shiro was basically his brother, and people didn’t just avoid talking to their family. Especially not about things like this. Especially not when Shiro was the first person he’d ever gone to on the matter of Lance, when his feelings were still just a burdensome crush and Lance still acted like they had a rivalry. Sometimes. It hadn’t been as bad as those first few weeks in space, and Keith had come to appreciate it, but still. One did not forget the hours he’d spent ranting about Lance to Shiro, while Shiro then tried his best to give advice.

            “All right. What do you wanna know?” Keith asked, as soon as he and Shiro were in his room with the door shut, and Shiro sat down on the edge of Keith’s bed while Keith started pacing. Pacing, because he couldn’t do something to release his nerves other than pace.

            “Nothing, really,” Shiro said. “I actually came to apologize, first.”

            Keith paused.

            “Apologize?”

            There had been a fair amount of apologizing going on between the Paladins lately, especially in regards to Keith and his emotions, and Keith wasn’t sure he wanted to hear another apology.

            “Yeah,” Shiro said. “I haven’t been here for you enough. You know. When I actually have been here.”

            Keith snorted, and Shiro smiled thinly at him.

            “Really, though, Keith,” Shiro went on. “I am sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been around, and I’m sorry I disappeared on you. I know that…dealing with that was hard for you, given everything else.”

            Keith frowned, eyes dropping to the floor. Everything else. Code for the disappearance of his mom, his dad, losing Shiro to the Kerberos mission, his expulsion from the Garrison.

            “It’s all right,” Keith said, and raised his eyes. “I got through it, didn’t I?”

            “You did,” Shiro confirmed. “You’ve matured. And you’ve gotten closer to the others. I saw you all. Right before the Eddul mission. And I see you every day with Lance. I didn’t think I’d ever see the day when Keith Kogane became clingy.”

            Keith’s face burned. “Really, Shiro? Is this what you’re here about? Seriously?”

            It was Shiro’s turn to laugh. Keith groaned. “Get out of my room.”

            “Sorry, sorry,” Shiro said. “I’m just proud of you, Keith. I’m glad things worked out with Lance. You’re happier. I just thought that I should let you know it shows.”

            Shiro stood up, and opened his arms.

            “Come on.”

            Keith rolled his eyes and stepped into the hug, wrapping his arms around Shiro.

            “Oh my God, you’re even clingier than I thought. You’re even better at hugging now,” Shiro muttered.

            Keith drew back, face a deeper shade of red than his jacket. He thrust his arm out, pointing at the door.

            “That’s it. Get out.”

            As much as Tiva hated Lo-tormented Emo Soul’s dramatics, this was better than anything she could have hoped for. She, Cosso, Mirak, and Bix all watched the guards on the screen look between each other, in unanimous agreement that they were actually going to do this. Kilzee’s cuffs were off, and they were undoing Pinene’s now, and then they were handing Kilzee and Pinene daggers. And Lotor was striding forward, twirling his blade, attempting to look as menacing as possible, completely oblivious to everything happening.

            “What are the chances that when he finds out, he thinks the others are all part of the Blade, and he stops hunting us?” Bix asked.

            “If that happens, I’ll actually acknowledge Cosso as the leader here,” Mirak said.

            Cosso glared. “Everyone knows I’m the leader here.”

            “I’ve pulled more weight around here than either of you. Now shut up,” Tiva interrupted, and gestured back to the screen, where Kilzee and Pinene were both tensed, tightly-wound coils ready to spring.

            “Do you traitors have anything you’d like to say to the Empire before you perish for your treason?” Lotor announced.

            Whatever snide remark Kilzee gave was too low for anyone to hear. Lotor seemed surprised, and leveled his blade, and that was when she and Pinene rushed him. Lotor stumbled back, clearly unprepared. Kilzee took her opening and managed to shank Lotor in the leg. He whirled on her with his blade, slashing her arm, and called out, “APPREHEND THEM AT ONCE!”

            “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better,” Bix muttered, cupping her hands over her mouth, bouncing slightly on her feet.

            Only two of the guards that had been in the line (a line comprised of no less than ten) charged forward. They’d been on the fringe of the line, and hadn’t been able to stop anyone from freeing Kilzee and Pinene without looking suspicious.

            One of them went for Kilzee, who was occupied at the moment, trying to keep Lotor and his sword at bay. The other went for Pinene, who’d snuck around behind Lotor, and managed a stab in his side—a stab that should’ve gone straight through the back, but Lotor had moved out of the way at the last second.

            Lotor slashed backward with the blade, and Pinene, distracted by the guard rushing at him, and the fact that he’d managed to actually wound Lotor, couldn’t move out of the way in time. The blade slashed across his face, across both eyes.

            “Oh shit,” Cosso whispered, while Mirak grimaced, and Bix made a noise of discomfort.

            It was all downhill from there. Unable to see, shocked by the sudden loss of one of his senses—arguably the most important at that moment, Pinene stumbled, and the guard rushing him managed a stab to the gut. The guard ripped the blade away and kicked Pinene hard, hard enough to send him to the ground, where he writhed in pain.

            Moments later, it was all over for Pinene.

            With him down, everyone turned their attention to Kilzee, still going at it with Lotor. She managed to duck underneath a swing that should’ve taken her head off, and slashed out at him with her dagger. With his chest armor on, her slash meant nothing but a jagged line across the top layer. Not even enough to hit skin.

            Still, she persisted.

            Blaster fire clipped Kilzee in places—the back, the arm, and one shot managed to graze the top of her head, but nothing landed. She kept in close proximity to Lotor, so close that the guards couldn’t fire without risking hitting their emperor.

            “Come on, Kilzee,” Tiva found herself whispering. “Go for his throat. You can do it.”

            Kilzee could not do it, as it would turn out.

            With her focus dead-set on killing Lotor, she missed the way his blade changed hands, and he thrust, stabbing Kilzee in the gut. Kilzee staggered back, shocked to find a blade buried in her, and that gave the guards the opening they needed to fire. Within a few ticks, Kilzee was on the ground, unmoving.

            Tiva, Bix, Mirak, and Cosso all stared at the monitor.

            The world seemed to spin out from beneath Tiva. Even with the effort by most of the guards to let Kilzee and Pinene loose on Lotor, even with how well they’d been doing…

            “I see now,” Lotor called out, silencing the roaring crowd almost immediately, “that the missing four members of the Blade of Marmora may be right in front of me. Of course…there are more than four of you here who are also traitors. I wonder which ones have Blade affiliations. Would anyone like to speak up?”

            Tiva’s eyes cut to the side, to glance at Cosso, expecting some smug remark to Mirak about acknowledging him as their leader, but he was absolutely silent, eyes glued to the computer screen in front of them.

            “All of you. Drop your weapons,” Lotor ordered.

            The guards on the screen all looked between each other. Hesitantly, one dropped their weapon. Then another. And then three more. Slowly, every guard unarmed themselves.

            “Kneel,” Lotor said.

            “He’s serious about this. He’s going to kill them,” Bix murmured.

            “Shut up,” Mirak hissed.

            And Bix was correct. Lotor approached the first guard, hefting his blade, and without any ceremony whatsoever, shaking a bit with bridled rage, slit their throat.

            None of the other guards moved, even knowing what fate sat right in front of them.

            “Tiva,” Cosso said.

            Tiva turned. Cosso, now, was also shaking a bit, struggling to keep his breathing regular.

            This was new.

            “Yeah?” Tiva asked, quirking one eyebrow.

            “Pull this feed. All of it. Get everything to the Castle of Lions. After this, we are going to act completely normal. We are going to let Lotor think he’s gotten the last remnants of the Blade of Marmora off of his ship. And we’re going to stay here and sabotage his efforts wherever we can,” Cosso said. “We don’t stop until the Paladins have control.”

            Allura couldn’t bring herself to leave the bridge, and ended up sitting against the wall, trying to catch whatever bit of sleep she could before the ship hit Tarvin Two’s atmosphere. Estimates from Coran had placed them at twenty vargas out—just under a quintent. They could land, solidify the alliance with Tarvin, notify the rest of the Voltron Alliance, and then they could prepare to strike the Empire, and switch from the defensive to the offensive.

            Easier said than done.

            “Allura,” Coran said gently, approaching her. “You need to go get some rest.”

            “Isn’t that what I’m doing now?” Allura asked, forcing a smile to her face.

            Coran shook his head. “No. Real rest. You’ve been going for a few quintents straight now.”

            “So have you,” Allura shot back.

            Coran quieted. Allura grinned smugly at him, and pushed off of the wall, getting to her feet. She headed for her post and pulled up her holoscreens. Almost immediately, she frowned.

            “What is it now?” Coran asked.

            “Another message from Lotor’s ship,” Allura answered.

            She hesitated, fingers hovering over the button that would open the message. She’d already sent the Paladins away and told them to rest. Calling them right back to the bridge would be cruel.

            “Coran, can you put this message on the other screens in the castle, please?” Allura said.

            “Of course,” Coran replied, and headed to his control board, pulling up his own holoscreens.

            Allura pulled up the message. Like the other messages she’d received from Lotor’s ship, this one was another video message. Once again, it looked like it was pulled from the security feeds. This video showed the arena, and a whole group of guards surrounding two more. Another execution.

            Allura and Coran watched the whole video in silence, and when it ended, Allura opened her mouth to make some remark, when a second video started playing.

            “Tiva?” Allura whispered in disbelief.

            “What you just saw,” recording-Tiva said, “was the execution of two of the remaining six members of the Blade of Marmora. None of the other guards in that video were with us. People are starting to turn against Lotor. Many guards who are supposed to be loyal think he’s an idiot. They believe he’s as harmful to the Empire as Voltron. People want Lotor gone. I ask of you, please, spread this video. Spread it with the other video. Make people see how unstable this empire is. I have to go. I will be continuing to give updates on the situation as they come. I wish Team Voltron the best.”

            The video cut off.

            Allura turned toward Coran.

            “We need to get this video out as soon as possible. Leave out the second video.”

            And Allura and Coran set to work.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

            How many more of you are there? How many more of you await your moment to assassinate me?

            There were supposed to be six left. Just six. And yet, Lotor left the arena with the blood of not six, not seven, not eight or nine ten eleven but twelve officers and guards on his hands. Had any of them been the four remaining officers he’d been searching for? Or were they still on this ship, waiting for the moment Lotor let his guard down?

            Lotor turned around on impulse, sweeping his eyes around the empty control room he stood in. He listened hard, to the sounds coming from the rest of the ship, trying to discern whether or not any of the more subtle sounds were from something—someone—hiding out, waiting for the right moment to strike. Or perhaps nobody was around to strike. Perhaps they were all busy doing other things, committing treason, sabotage, I need to get back to the bridge—

            Or, he could get everyone else away from the bridge.

            Lance had known, just from the day or so he’d spent with Lotor, that the guy was a little unhinged, and clearly not fit to be running an empire, if he was going to make his second-in-command some guy he’d just met the day before and trusted off of an incredibly false assumption, instead of any of the infinitely more loyal and trustworthy people in his empire. And aside from Lotor’s desire to see Keith dead—which Lance had just pinned on Lotor being obsessed with him, and seeing Keith as an obstacle—Lance hadn’t thought the prince—emperor, he’s the emperor, Lance had to keep reminding himself—could get any worse.

            That transmission proved him wrong.

            Lotor had gotten much, much worse.

            Lance glanced to his right, at Pidge and Hunk. Hunk had made a sad attempt to cover Pidge’s eyes when the carnage—okay, so Hunk had called it carnage, but Lance had seen a lot worse in movies Pidge was old enough to watch—started, but Pidge had fought him off. She was a member of the team as much as any of them were. She fought the same battles. She was part of the same giant robot. And she was going to see Lotor murder twelve of his own crew members right along with them.

            She seemed to have been taking it better than Hunk was, if Lance was being honest. She was the first person to get to her feet and look at Lance and Hunk, still sitting on the couches in the lounge, unsure of what to do with themselves.

            “Shouldn’t we go to the bridge, or do something?” she asked.

            Hunk raised his head.

            “Like what? Allura told us to rest, and I’m kinda still trying to process what I just watched.”

            Lance nodded along with Hunk, patting his arm.

            “Sorry, Pidgeon. I’m with Hunk on this one. We’re coming in on Tarvin Two, aren’t we? At this point, it’s probably better to just…let Lotor destroy himself. We go to Tarvin, we get the alliance, and then he can try and come at us again, and we’ll fire back with some brand new allies, and maybe this time, he’ll fall.”

            Maybe.

            He should’ve fallen before. Many times before. He should’ve fallen the day Shiro ripped his own fighter plane apart with Black’s mouth blade. He should’ve fallen that same day on the battlefield, because Lance should’ve taken the shot instead of hearing him out. He should’ve fallen the day he tried to kill Keith, when Lance had taken the shot for his head (how had he managed to avoid it?). He should’ve fallen on the battlefield again, but Lance had continued sprinting instead of planting his feet and taking a shot he would’ve landed.

            “He will fall,” Pidge said, a determined glint in her eye. “If his own officers are turning on him, then this is our best chance. We need to spread this message to the rest of the Empire—I’m gonna go help Allura.”

            Pidge left the room, a new set to her shoulders.

            Lance and Hunk glanced between each other.

            “Do you ever worry about her?” Hunk finally asked.

            Lance almost replied with an unhesitating, um, duh, before he realized that consciously, no. For the most part he’d been worried about Keith or himself, but not Pidge. At the back of his mind, of course, there was always his worry about his team as a whole. They were his family, after all, and Pidge was basically his little sister. It only hit him occasionally how young Pidge was, and this time, the weight of it could have knocked him over, and Lance was grateful he was already sitting.

            “Less than I should be,” he finally admitted.

            Hunk wasn’t looking at him. He was staring thoughtfully after the door.

            “She’s been doing a lot,” Hunk said, after another stretch of silence. “When you guys were first on Lotor’s ship, she basically took over monitoring the communicator feeds. Then, before we got in there for the final battle, and Allura was down, Shiro just kinda…I guess he shut down on us. He was going out of his mind, and he just wanted to keep us safe. Pidge kind of just, like, took over. Coran was too busy helping Shiro and Allura, so she and I had to start plotting the rescue. She was the first one to volunteer to go get you guys. She and Green were gonna go it alone, and I was gonna monitor from the ship.”

            What? Lance wanted to stand up and yell. Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?

            Pidge and Hunk had both been there for him when he’d come out of the pod, and yet, neither one of them had bothered to tell him this. They’d been there for Keith when Lance was losing his mind, and Keith never mentioned this, so clearly he was never told, either. Lance shoved down the frustration, the shock of it all, (was there ever really a good time and place to mention it?), and let Hunk keep going.

            “Even now, she’s doing a lot. Constant hacking. At this point, she could probably fight Shiro for Allura’s left hand. I’d say right hand, but I think Coran’s got that on lock, and I don’t see anyone willing to fight him. But, I mean…she’s fourteen, and she’s kicking more butt than we are.”

            “No kidding,” Lance agreed. “If she hadn’t gotten to me, back on Eddul…”

            Lance didn’t voice the rest of his thought, but he didn’t have to. Hunk braced a hand on Lance’s thigh and gave a gentle squeeze.

            “I know, buddy.”

            “And you, too, Hunk,” Lance said. “I don’t think I properly thanked you for getting me off of Lotor’s ship. I definitely would have been a goner without you. So thank you.”

            Hunk smiled thinly at Lance.

            “That’s what best friends are for, buddy.”

            “No, but seriously, Hunk. Once this is all over, I say you, me, and Pidge spend a day hanging out. Just the three of us, some video games, some food, some really bad jokes, and bonding in general. Just like back at the Garrison,” Lance said.

            Hunk started nodding. “Sounds like a plan.”

            Tiva noticed several things about the meeting Lotor had called. One, it was very impromptu, as there had been no indication of a new move from Team Voltron—Tiva still didn’t even know whether her transmissions were being broadcast at large yet—and therefore, no Blue Paladin-related cause for this meeting. Which meant it likely had nothing to do with the Paladins at all. Two, every person at this meeting (thirty-seven Galrans, according to the quick head count Tiva’d done), had some hacking capability, ranging from the best hackers on the ship, to anyone with basic knowledge of intercepting a transmission. Suffice to say, half of the bridge crew was in this room. Three, Lotor still wasn’t here, and the meeting was apparently supposed to begin about ten doboshes ago.

            Cosso and Bix were here, too, but no sign of Mirak, but Tiva didn’t think much of it, as not every member of the Blade of Marmora had hacking skills. Bix’s could nearly rival Tiva’s, but Cosso was rusty at best, and, seeing as Mirak wasn’t in attendance, her abilities were non-existent.

            Tiva caught Cosso’s eye from where he stood across the room, and she raised her eyebrows at him. Cosso just shook his head at her.

            Any idea what Lo-tone Down the Attitude wants with us now?

            Nope, not a clue.

            Tiva scowled, the usual expression she wore whenever it came down to thinking of the prince-emperor-whatever he decided he was going to be that quintant. It seemed as though this meeting would be a mess, just like everything else in the last few quintants on this ship.

            Several hours after the transmission had played out on the ship screens, Allura called everyone back to the bridge. Pidge had already come, and was still typing away at her holoscreens. So far, Pidge had gotten into contact with the Olkari and the Nivonians, and was now trying to see—just as she’d been for the last half hour—if there was any way to get back into contact with the Arusians.

            At some point after the transmission, Shiro’d also come back on his own volition, despite Coran and Allura’s protests and attempts to shoo him out. They only let him stay after he pointed out Pidge’s presence on the bridge, and now he hovered over her shoulder, offering ideas in an attempt to aid her efforts.

            Hunk and Lance arrived next, both of them in the middle of a conversation about Earth video games, and taking a trip back to the space mall, and figuring out how to rewire the screens in the lounge—a whole scenario that Coran couldn’t help but eavesdrop on, and then raise his eyebrows at.

            Keith walked in last, sweat-soaked, clutching his bayard. Pidge and Shiro turned at the sound of his footfalls.

            “So, how many times did you mentally stab Lotor on the training deck?” Pidge asked, looking him up and down.

            “Just a few,” Keith lied.

             He turned away from Pidge and sought out Lance. Lance hadn’t broken conversation with Hunk, but when Keith came up to him, Lance put his arm around him without second thought—until he actually touched Keith, and drew back with a small screech.

            “What?” Keith asked.

            “You’re so sweaty, you heathen!” Lance shouted.

            Keith opened his mouth to point out that they’d spent time, on more than one occasion, sparring on the training deck in very close contact, but Allura decided to take that moment to gather everyone’s attention toward the front. Keith settled for a glare at Lance, who snorted and dropped his arm back around Keith, and even went as far as pressing a kiss to Keith’s temple.

            Keith made a squeaking sort of noise in the back of his throat.

            Lotor strolled into the conference room of his ship exactly thirteen doboshes and fifty-seven ticks late, and the glares from the officers and guards standing around told him that this was a not-very-much-appreciated development. In his defense, he’d had something to take care of before he’d arrived.

            “Is everyone here? There’s not very much time for me to do a roll call,” Lotor said. “There should be thirty-six of you, correct?”

            “Thirty-seven,” one officer called, voice sharp, eyes even sharper. Lotor stared at her a moment, because how dare she use that voice with him, (I am the emperor and I could kill you now), but he couldn’t afford to lash out like he really wanted to. She would be dealt with soon, anyway.

            “Excellent,” Lotor said. “Now, there’s an issue I am going to need assistance with. Come with me. All of you, down to the pod bay.”

            Lotor stepped aside, and let every officer and guard pass in front of him. He brought up the rear of the group for the sole purpose of watching them, making sure not a single one decided to get the bright, sunshiny idea to try and run away. Because if they all decided to band together and run, they could get away with it, or they could charge Lotor, even with the new blade at his side, they could still kill him—

            But none of them did. The whole walk to the bay, each one of them was silent, each one of them shot a questioning glance to the people next to them, but not a single one breathed a word. They were complacent all the way to the pod bay, where escape pods lined the walls. Six of them, with six officers supposed to go to each one, but no matter, one could take on an extra.

            “So,” Lotor called, voice echoing around the bay, once everyone stood in one crowd in the center of the room, “it occurred to me that the Paladins have been able to acquire some interesting information through hacking of this ship, and I have been wondering just how that could be.”

            Tiva eyed Lotor warily, and then schooled her face into bored neutrality, willing herself not to risk a glance at Cosso or Bix. Did Lotor know? Was he about to expose them right here, right now?

            No. He couldn’t know. If he did, Mirak would have been standing among them, wouldn’t she?

            “It then occurred to me that the Green Paladin indeed set foot aboard this ship,” Lotor went on, and Tiva slowly exhaled the breath she’d been holding.

            Lotor walked in a slow circle around the group, hands clasped behind his back, away from the sword at his side. Still, it was within his reach, and Tiva knew he’d have no problem using it on one of them for stepping out of line. She kept an eye on it, and an eye on Lotor’s motions. From the few arena fights she’d watched footage of, she’d been trying to figure out Lotor’s tell, for when he’d slip into battle mode. So far, he was relaxed.

            “The Paladins indeed went through my pod bays in an effort to make their escape. And I wonder now, if the little Green Paladin had time to set up some sort of device in these pods, or this bay, capable of giving the Paladins access to my ship. I want each of you to help search these pods. Six to a pod—well, one will have seven.”

            Lotor counted off six guards, six guards, six guards, six guards, six guards, seven guards, and shooed them off to the pods. Tiva and Bix and Cosso all ended up separated, and Tiva had to hold back from casting glances at them over her shoulder as she and the random group she’d been sent off with entered the pod, and set to work scanning the computers.

            After roughly two doboshes of tense silence, two doboshes of Lotor calling out orders of what to potentially look for (things Tiva knew they’d never find, because Lotor didn’t know she’d been feeding the Paladins information the whole time), the doors to the pod slid shut. Everyone turned toward the guard sitting closest, but they looked up, wide-eyed, and raised their hands defensively.

            “I didn’t touch a thing.”

            From somewhere else, somewhere in the low ceiling, a hissing noise started.

            “What is that?” one guard asked, while another one called, “What the stars is that smell?”

            Then tense silence, and then realization seemed to dawn upon everyone in the pod at once.

            Tiva got to work immediately.

            Door override. Door override. I need to execute a door override or else—what even is the chemical?

            Gas was being pumped into the pod. Okay. It was colorless. Even better. It smelled like shit. Fan-fucking-tastic. The downside? Tiva and the others had not a clue of what this gas was called, or whether or not it was lethal, just that it was quickly replacing the breathable air of the pod they were all trapped in.

            “Guys—” an officer choked out, “I can’t—help—”

            The others began coughing and wheezing as well, and Tiva tried to keep a hand over her mouth and nose, but it was no use. The gas blurred her vision, the numbers and letters on the screen in front of her becoming scrambled. Her limbs were starting to seize up—first her legs, and then her arms. Thuds sounded around her, as her comrades fell to the ground unconscious.

            Door…override…

            Tiva’s fingers froze midair, right above the keypad, and then she toppled over, too, just as she felt the pod rocket forward.

            Haggar refused to die because an insolent Paladin and an insolent princess attacked her while she was just doing her job, playing the right hand of an insolent prince who ignored every warning she gave him. She especially refused to die when the Paladins could’ve so easily found her and finished her off if they’d just spent a moment longer searching their battlegrounds. She’d teleported not too far away, into a thick cluster of trees, and promptly collapsed.

            She woke up on an Eddulan military base, in their medical bay, receiving assistance from cautious doctors and nurses who’d pledged allegiance to the empire and its idiot ruler.

            It was astounding to Haggar that not one of them had had the thought to try and kill her while she was vulnerable, that not a single rebel or Paladin had managed to break into the base and take her life while she couldn’t defend herself. What was even more astounding was when she received the news that the Paladins had had to retreat, because two had been injured, and so they could not form the robotic menace that the universe called Voltron.

            “Would you like us to send word to Emperor Lotor that you’ve recovered enough to return to him?” one nurse asked Haggar now.

            It became quickly known around the base that Haggar could not fully heal from her injuries here. Not without her druids to assist her. Her own magic fought against nearly anything that these doctors had tried, but they’d figured out a system that kept her kicking for the time being.

            “No,” Haggar answered.

            Lotor refused to heed her words time and time again, and now Haggar refused to believe that the Eddulan battle was anything but a fluke. Lotor won only because of Eddul’s military. Haggar would show him that he was not capable to lead this empire, especially if he refused to listen to her.

            “Are you not aware that you cannot make a full recovery here?” the nurse pressed.

            “I’m aware,” Haggar snapped.

            She might have still been in pain here, but these people would keep her alive for as long as she stayed. They couldn’t kick her out—not when she could threaten to go back to the emperor and have any and all protection this planet was receiving revoked.

            She’d thought her plan through enough times: stay here, let the Voltron Paladins take him down, and then she could come back and seize power before someone else could. She’d step back in right at the very end, when Lotor’s demise was guaranteed. She would be miraculously discovered alive, so that it didn’t look too suspicious, the kind of suspicious it would be if she made her dramatic reentry right after Lotor died.

            For now, she’d let Lotor crash and burn.

            Lotor smiled, looking around the now-empty pod bay.

            He’d programmed each of those pods to head off to different planets, all gas giants in nearby star systems, none set to land. The gas attack would hopefully pump enough gas to keep each guard and officer in those ships unconscious, long enough for the planets’ gravity to pull the pods into their cores and crush them completely.

            It wouldn’t take very long for someone to piece together where every member of his crew with hacking skills had gone, but for now, Lotor wouldn’t worry about it. It would just be a message to anyone on board this ship looking to oppose him, or send out transmissions to the Castle of Lions—Lotor would have to find the guard who’d alerted him to that, and thank them, maybe, if he was feeling particularly upbeat—that Lotor was not to be crossed.

            He smiled all the way back to the bridge, where hopefully, he’d be told that the ship was closing in on Tarvin Three.

            “All right,” Allura said, eyes sweeping over the Paladins, making sure all of them were paying attention. “We’re now a little over half a quintant out from Tarvin Two. As we’ve been getting closer, Coran has managed to pull some updated information on Tarvin. Coran?”

            Allura gestured for him to step up next to her, and he did, adjusting his collar as he began.

            “Tarvin, as you know, is made up of four planets,” Coran said. “While earlier we stated that Tarvin is a peaceful planet, they are not as peaceful as they were ten thousand years ago, which is to be expected when an empire like the Galra Empire arises. They’ve established a military stationed on Tarvin Two, with another base on Tarvin Four. Their military is moderately sized and mostly defensive in nature, hence, just the two bases. However, it is still best to be cautious with them, especially after Eddul.”

            Lance’s demeanor shifted at the mention of their last battle; Keith chose that moment to lean his head on Lance’s shoulder, feigning fatigue.

            “Their four planets also have distinct natures about them. Tarvin Two is the largest, though most of it is very desert-like. There are patchy areas of snow and ice at their higher elevations, but for the most part, the planet is dry. Tarvin One is their second largest, and the Tarvinians have chose that planet to establish their civilization. Once, it was mostly forested, but now is filled with sprawling cities and skyscrapers—according to their data, there’s hardly an inch of natural land left. This is where most, if not all, of their non-political communications are out of. It’s their center of trade,” Coran went on.

            “Why don’t they just do their politics where the most people live?” Pidge asked. “Isn’t it kinda sketchy that all of the politicians do their work on a completely different planet?”

            Coran shrugged. “Perhaps you can ask them when you arrive. Anyway. Tarvin Three.”

            Pidge blinked a little at the dismissal, and looked to the others. Shiro just patted her shoulder with a shake of his head.

            “Not many people live on Tarvin Three,” Coran explained. “There’s one major city, where Tarvin Three’s embassy is, but the entire planet—which, by the way, is the smallest of Tarvin’s planets—is swamp-like. All plants and water. People either swim or travel by boat to get around, and it’s even worse for anyone who lives outside of the city, because anyone who doesn’t live in the city often lives out in a shack. A perfect place for anyone who wants to be left alone, but absolutely abysmal if you’re out there against your will.”

            “I think you just described Louisiana and Florida,” Keith remarked.

            Pidge started giggling, and Lance cracked a smile.

            Coran raised his eyebrows. “Louisiana and Florida?”

            “States,” Shiro explained. “They’re different places in America.”

            Coran nodded. “Thank you, Shiro. Now, moving on, Tarvin Four. The second smallest. Where Tarvin Two is the planet where both political and military operations are carried out, Tarvin Four is strictly military. No one is allowed on Tarvin Four without express clearance from the chancellor. And that’s really all we know. No word of its climate or geographic features, but I suppose we won’t be needing those. We could very well find out on our own.”

            Allura nodded to him.

            “Thank you, Coran.”

            “Of course, Princess,” Coran said with a bow. He headed back down to his control board, to continue working on communications with the Voltron Alliance, as well as Tarvin Two.

            “So,” Allura said, turning back to the Paladins. “Now that you’ve heard about Tarvin, you can be better prepared to handle any situations that may arise. When we get to Tarvin Two, we’ll be brought straight to their central political headquarters, and our alliance negotiations will continue there. Our landing spot is supposed to be secure, and right on the premises, so we’ll have no need to travel in the Lions. Any questions?”

            Lance raised his free hand.

            “Yes, Lance?”

            Keith lifted his head to get a better look at him, and the frown he wore more and more frequently, the frown that didn’t look right on his face.

            “Are we sure we can trust these people? I mean, I was here for their transmission, but…I don’t know, I’m…I just don’t want a repeat of Eddul,” Lance said.

            Allura nodded at his question.

            “I understand, Lance. I’m sure we all do. All of you will need to be on guard, and be prepared to make an escape or get into a fight at a moment’s notice, but I believe we can trust these people. It’s a risk we’re going to have to take if we want to secure an alliance.”

            “Yeah,” Lance said, nodding now, too. “Yeah, okay. I know.”

            Keith brought an arm around Lance’s waist, and dropped his head back on Lance’s shoulder while Allura asked for any other questions.

            “It’ll be okay,” Keith whispered to him. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

            Lance pulled Keith closer and said nothing, but Keith felt Lance’s tense muscles relax. Just a bit, but a relaxation all the same.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

            The lounge was quiet after the meeting.

            Lance stared at the ceiling, head propped up on Keith’s lap. He clasped Keith’s right hand; with his left, Keith ran his fingers through Lance’s hair. He had recollections of Lance doing this during a couple of his breakdowns, and now he was hoping to ward one away from the Blue Paladin. The discussion of their impending mission on Tarvin Two, and mentions of their battle on Eddul, took out whatever pep had been in Lance’s step earlier.

            On the couch opposite from them, Pidge snored softly, sprawled out with half of her limbs dangling over the side, having finally fallen asleep after what were probably two straight days (at least) of being awake, sitting in front of a computer screen, or running around dealing with Lance and Keith’s emotional trauma. Hunk, too, was on the verge of nodding off, but stayed awake, watching over Pidge. As soon as she’d fallen asleep, Hunk had made a quick trip to his room and snatched up a blanket, and then brought it back to drape over her.

            Meanwhile, Shiro had managed to coax Allura out of the bridge to come join the Paladins in resting up before their trip down to Tarvin Two. The two of them sat on the center couch, the curved one. They sat side-by-side with laced fingers, Allura’s head falling onto Shiro’s shoulder in one of their rare public displays of affection.

            Nobody spoke up, nobody broke the silence that’d settled over the room. The exhaustion finally caught up to them, after suffering through two battles within two days, running on little to no sleep, preparing to head onto yet another planet, with the potential for a third battle.

            This time, Keith vowed to himself, he wasn’t letting Lance out of his sight. Hopefully, any battles that took place wouldn’t force them away from each other. Keith wasn’t sure if he could handle being separated again, especially if someone were to target Lance. Or if Lotor himself happened to make another appearance. If that happened, and there was no one around to hold Keith back, well…

            Stop it.

            Keith killed the thought as it rose in his head. Telling the others about the soldiers had been bad enough, and even if Lotor happened to be the bane of the Paladins’ existence, Keith refused to go through that again. Whatever impulse control he possessed had been gone in that moment and left him with nothing but blind fury, the same kind of fury he’d seen simmering below the surface as he watched Lotor execute his guards.

            The sensation of his hand moving pulled Keith out of his thoughts; he dropped his gaze to where Lance had begun to play with his fingers. Lance raised his eyes to meet Keith’s and smiled wistfully, almost as though he could read Keith’s thoughts. Keith smiled back down at him, chest seizing up as a rush of affection flooded his system, and one thought pushed its way to the front of Keith’s mind:

            He was going to keep this boy safe if it was the last thing he did.

            “I mean…I am incredibly nervous around you. I guess I could say I enjoy your presence, but do I ‘like’ you…I’m still figuring that out.”

            Lance swallowed the bile rising in the back of his throat and played it off as nothing more than affection-induced anxiety, bobbing his head, flicking his eyes to the ground and back up to Lotor. All the while, Keith started making indecipherable noises in Lance’s ear. The flush crept further across Lance’s face, just knowing that Keith had to listen to him flirt with Lotor.

            Stay back, bile. I’m not done here.

            “—OT IT!” the shout came through Lance’s communicator, and the moment it did, Lance shut off his microphone, now that he was no longer the lone soul Keith had to talk to. At the very least, Keith wouldn’t have to listen to this garbage anymore.

            “Keith, Lance, this is Pidge and Hunk. The castle is back online. Sorry for that. Shiro broke the microphone.”

            “How convenient.”

            Shutting off his earpiece, too, seemed more and more appealing to Lance, but with it on, he at least knew he wasn ’t completely alone here. Still, Lance had to try and tune out the chatter in his ear, to focus on Lotor, standing right in front of him, face brighter than Lance had ever seen it the whole time he was here. Even brighter than when he’d carved a scar into Keith’s face.

            “Perhaps I can assist you in figuring things out?” Lotor said, and brought his hand back up to Lance’s face to cup it.

            Lance refused to admit that Lotor at least had the skills to charm people. Maybe, if he wasn’t running around and stringing Lotor along, if this was a thing he was actually trying to look into, he would’ve bought it. But he knew Lotor’s true nature; he knew how he’d treated Allura, and he’d seen how he treated Keith, and he knew how he thought of his prisoners—no more than tools to meet an end, disposed of when they became useless. Lotor was despicable, and awful, and everything in Lance screamed to run.

            So Lance took the sensible course of action and stood his ground, because he had a mission, and he wasn ’t about to let his team down because he couldn’t keep it together.

            “Maybe,” Lance made himself murmur, and tried not to shudder as he brought his hand up to cover Lotor’s.

            “Shit,” the whisper came in his ear.

            Lance wondered if the mental link between the Paladins was stronger than they realized, after several months of bonding and forming Voltron over and over again. He wondered if Keith knew exactly what was happening, or if he could sense Lance’s revulsion—

            “Yeah, we’ve all been there—”

            “No, I mean listen! Do you hear that?”

            Oh, so no. Keith did not, apparently, sense his revulsion. Keith was just now coming to the realization that Lance had turned off his microphone—late to the party, as always.

            “No. What am I listening for?”

            “Lance. I think he shut his mic off.”

            At least he noticed.

            Lance clung to that thought—Keith, he’s on this ship, if things go south, he’ll be there, he’s at least picked up on the situation—as Lotor sheathed his sword and brought a second hand to Lance’s face, to cup his other cheek. Lotor stared into his eyes, and Lance met the stare for three seconds, two seconds, one, and let his eyes drop back down. He bit his lip shyly, and hoped to hell that Lotor was buying this crap, because if he had to keep this up any longer, he was going to puke, and then Lotor would probably actually send him down to the med bay, and Lance couldn’t go there when Lotor was moments away from kicking Keith’s ass.

            Well, he would have been moments away from kicking Keith ’s ass, if he wasn’t currently leaning in toward Lance’s face, eyes already shut. Lance stomach protested when he noted the puckered lips.

            This is not happening. Nope. Time to shut this down.

            “Um,” Lance said, and he was not faking the nerves now, “don’t we have a prisoner to attend to? Perhaps…after we take care of him.”

            Lotor opened his eyes and frowned. If Lotor was a good person, Lance would ’ve called the look the look of a kicked puppy. But Lotor was not a good person, so Lance left it at a look of dejection. He gave Lotor a soft smile he definitely didn’t deserve, mentally kicking himself the whole time. Lotor nodded, clearing his throat, removing his hands slowly from Lance’s face—and dammit, he was still looking into Lance’s eyes, and Lance had to hold his gaze.

            “R-Right,” Lotor finally said.

            Lance uncovered Lotor ’s hand, but Lotor entwined their fingers before Lanced could snatch his arm away.

            The burning on his cheeks was definitely shame, but if anyone asked, Lance would have to lie through his teeth and explain, “Gee, you know, I’m just falling for the Prince of the Galra Empire! Isn’t he great? So bloodthirsty and downright disgusting! He wants to kill the other guy I might like! Isn’t he just a real charmer?”

            Never again.

            They could uncover info on the Galra Empire by some other means, but never again was Lance willingly cozying up to this guy. Once this was all over, he was going right to the showers in the castle and scrubbing every inch of himself until every last trace of Lotor was gone.

            Lotor didn ’t deserve Lance’s affections, and Keith didn’t deserve to sit in a cell and listen to this. Or sit in silence wondering why the hell Lance had gone silent on him.

            Trust me, Keith. You don’t wanna listen to this.

            “—soon as we can. Lance, if you’re listening to us still, we need that information. And if you shut your mic off, for the love of Voltron, would you turn it back on?!”

            Lance almost laughed. It would have been such a wonderful reprieve from his misery, the absurdity of this whole situation. He was finally being depended on, and he wanted nothing more than to climb out of his skin and let someone else handle this. And he couldn’t even voice that thought. Not without blowing his cover.

            Lance settled for another smile at Lotor, one that Lotor returned and then looked away from.

            At the very least, Lance could be content with the knowledge that while Lotor got under his skin, he got right back underneath Lotor ’s.

            Lance bolted upright. There was a body he was pressed against, a hand his fingers were interlocked with, and he wrenched away, gasping for air. He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes and get a visual on the room around him, because this definitely wasn’t his bedroom—

            “Lance,” a soft voice came from the body that now sat behind him.

            Lance turned his whole body around faster than he’d intended to, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his dream—that was most definitely a nightmare—came back to him. His eyes landed on a figure with dark hair that didn’t even brush its shoulders.

            Keith.

            Lance breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the Red Paladin, who waited with hands hovering in midair, refusing to touch Lance without permission. Not like Lotor. Lance shuddered at the memory.

            “Are you okay?” Keith whispered.

            Lance looked around the rest of the room—the lounge, and it was now empty. Before Lance had fallen asleep, it’d been occupied. Pidge had either woken up or been carried off to her room, Shiro and Allura must have gone off to their rooms or the bridge, Hunk was who-knows-where…it was just him and Keith. Keith, who seemed to have been awake the whole time, and couldn’t bring himself to wake Lance up.

            “No,” Lance whispered back.

            Keith hesitantly took Lance by the wrist. When Lance didn’t jerk away from him, he gently pulled Lance into his lap until he could get his arms all the way around the Blue Paladin.

            “What’s up?” Keith asked, as Lance settled against him. “I mean—do you wanna talk about whatever’s bothering you?”

            One of Keith’s hands strayed to Lance’s hair, as it had been hours before.

            “Nightmare,” Lance answered. “Well, I mean—it was a flashback, but I was sleeping and I didn’t like it, so it’s technically a nightmare, too. I was on Lotor’s ship again. With Lotor.”

            “You wanna talk me through what happened?”

            Lance sighed.

            “I don’t know. You technically should have known what happened already, but…this was when I turned my mic off on you guys. You remember that?”

            Keith stiffened for a moment, and tried to play it off as though it hadn’t even happened.

            “Yeah,” he answered. “I was worried about you. And then you came into my room with Lotor, and…sorry, this isn’t about me. What happened, Lance?”

            Lance took in another breath and blew out slowly through his nose.

            “Lotor tried to kiss me,” he finally admitted.

            Keith’s breath hitched, fingers stilling in Lance’s hair.

            “He asked if there was a way he could help me figure out whether or not I liked him. I said maybe and he decided to try and kiss me. Without asking. Or anything,” Lance went on.

            “…He what—without even—what the fuck—”

            “I stopped him,” Lance interrupted, making it a point to look Keith in the face. “He didn’t get the chance. But…he came close. It was gross. And reliving it…”

            “It’s over now,” Keith cut in. “You’re with m—us. You’re with the team, and you’re safe from that creep. I just—I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you. And I’m sorry you had to have that flashback. But you’re okay now.”

            Lance smiled, despite the situation. Keith had this little glint in his eyes, and between that glint, and the determined set to his jaw, and the narrowed eyebrows…

            “Thank you,” Lance whispered. Then he raised his voice, “So, there was no way I was letting Lotor kiss me, but you on the other hand…”

            He wiggled his eyebrows, and Keith—Keith Kogane, everybody—smothered his rising giggles with a snort, and leaned in, pressing his mouth gently against Lance’s, hand sliding down from Lance’s hair to the back of his neck. Lance gripped Keith by the biceps and pulled him closer.

            At some point during their kiss, Hunk walked in, and neither one of them noticed until he cleared his throat.

            “Uh, guys—”

            Lance and Keith both yelped—Lance’s yelp at a much higher pitch than Keith’s—as they flew back.

            “Hunk!” Lance shouted indignantly.

            Hunk raised his hands defensively. “Sorry. I see I walked in at the wrong moment, but Allura wanted me to tell you guys that we need to suit up. We’re pretty close to Tarvin Two, and she wants everyone prepared just in case…well, you know. She said in case this doesn’t ‘work out,’ but everyone knows she means just in case we get betrayed again.”

            “Thanks for letting us know,” Keith said.

            Hunk nodded. “Yep, now I’ll just let you guys get back to doing what you were doing. Just be on the bridge in ten minutes.”

            He hurried out of the room.

            “So, um,” Lance said, as soon as Hunk was out of earshot, “y’think we should go suit up now? And head down to the bridge? It’s gonna take us more than ten minutes…”

            Keith laughed and got to his feet, offering a hand that Lance didn’t need but took anyway.

            “Yeah. We can pick things up later.”

             Keith and Lance arrived on the bridge last, again, to knowing looks from every member of the team, including Coran. It didn’t help their case that they were still smiling at each other with fingers intertwined, up until they actually noticed the glances they were receiving. Lance’s gaze landed on Hunk.

            “I thought we were friends, Hunk!”

            Hunk laughed him off, “Listen, after all the teasing I got about Shay—”

            “Teasing I had no part in!” Keith interrupted.

            Hunk shook his head, still grinning. “Sorry, dude. You and Lance are basically a package deal now.”

            “Oh my God,” Keith muttered, burying his face in his free hand.

            “Um, no,” Lance said. “We’re a buy one get one deal, obviously. I’m the buy one, he’s the one they needed to give away—”

            Keith groaned louder.

            “You two are insufferable,” Pidge said. “Can we focus on anything else? Like, literally anything?”

            “I’m with Pidge,” Keith said, without taking his hand away from his face.

            “Okay,” Shiro interrupted the younger Paladins, “we’re coming up on Tarvin Two. While you two were still ‘getting ready’—”

            “Shiro,” Keith said into his hand.

            “—we sent a transmission to Chancellor Verna. As soon as one of their cruisers gets to us, we’ll be brought to their headquarters, and we’ll continue our alliance discussion there. Everyone is still going to be on guard. If things go south, we’ll try to make a break for the castle and get out. Worse comes to worst, we have to break out the Lions, but we’re trying to avoid that. Hopefully, everything works out, and we’ll have the Tarvinians as our allies.”

            “Do we have a plan to take down Lotor?” Keith asked, finally raising his head. “Because Zarkon’s dead, and no one knows where Haggar is. Lotor’s the only one left. If we can take him down, that leaves a power vacuum, and the Empire will tear itself apart trying to find a new leader. Then we won’t have to go on anymore alliance missions. We can start liberating other planets.”

            Lance nodded along as Keith spoke, squeezing his hand in a silent show of support. Keith squeezed him back, never once breaking up his speech.

            “We were thinking about that too, don’t worry,” Allura said, stepping up to Shiro’s side. “We wanted to try a similar tactic as before, luring him into an ambush. Of course, without Haggar, we won’t need to worry about risking the Lions this time. Our thought was that we could potentially have the Tarvinians fool him into coming to their planet to establish an alliance, and wait for him at their headquarters. The ship can hide out on Tarvin One or Tarvin Three, or even Tarvin Four, if we were granted permission. You all could hide at the headquarters and corner him.”

            “Of course,” Shiro added, “this is all speculation. We need an alliance first.”

            He spoke with an air of finality; Keith swallowed back any other questions he had. If things went wrong, or if they needed a plan on the fly, they had the team together. They could pull something off, he was sure of it.

            The team spent another fifteen or so minutes milling about the bridge in various states of charged quiet, until they got another transmission from the Tarvinians. The screens of the bridge came to life as they usually did (and Lance and Keith pulled away from each other, startled), displaying a copper-colored Tarvinian, standing on the bridge of a cruiser while a crew worked silently in the background.

            “Princess Allura, Paladins. I am Commander Luala. I am here to escort your ship to Tarvin Two’s Eruda Center, our political headquarters. If you would please follow my ship, and keep an audio channel open—just so our people can prove to you that we are not doing anything to undermine your team.”

            Commander Luala smiled at the screens, showing off razor-sharp teeth, so at odds with the softness and sincerity of her voice.

            “Of course,” Allura said. “Thank you, Commander.”

            Luala bowed and cut the video feed, but the audio feed still filled the bridge—mostly the hum of the Tarvinian cruiser outside the ship’s windows, and the occasional chatter between crew members. The Paladins stayed just as quiet the whole way to Tarvin Two. True to what Coran had said, as they broke through the atmosphere and drew closer to Tarvin Two’s political base, the Paladins took in long stretches of sand, sand that seemed to go on forever, broken up by white-peaked mountains on the horizon.

            Lance looked sideways at Keith, whose eyes were wide and glassy as he stared at the scenery before them.

            Where Lance saw the endless stretches of nothing that had surrounded the Garrison, Keith saw home—or something that had once been the closest thing Keith’d had to a home. Keith saw endless nights and days by himself in a shack, with a strange energy pulling him toward one fifth of the greatest weapon in the universe, with a cork board full of strings and maps and drawings and frustration. He saw afternoons on the speeder, hair whipping back in the wind. He saw nights out under the stars, sand beneath him. Keith saw a defining slice of his life, the disgraced fighter pilot trying to do something meaningful, even if it was meaningful to no one to himself.

            Lance put a hand on Keith’s shoulder; Keith glanced to the side, and Lance gave him a tight smile.

            “All right, team,” Shiro called from the front of the bridge, the authoritative edge to his voice weaker than usual. Lance and Keith turned around to face him, Lance letting his arm drop back down to his side.

            “Prepare to deboard. We’re coming up on the Eruda Center.”

            The Paladins heeded Shiro’s words, putting on helmets, getting bayards ready. As soon as the castleship landed on the premises of the Eruda Center, Coran let Commander Luala know that he was shutting down the transmission, and then everyone headed down to the entry hall. Allura stood at the helm of the group in her dress, rather than in armor, with Coran at her right and Shiro at her left. The other Paladins trailed behind—Keith and Pidge, the two shortest people on the team, in the middle, with Lance and Hunk at their backs.

            As soon as the team exited, they were greeted by Commander Luala herself, who began leading the team off of the airfield of the Eruda Center and toward the courtyard. Soldiers flanked and followed behind the group—two on each side, two at the back, all with laser guns in their hands. Laser guns that had bayonet-style sword attachments.

            And here, Lance thought the Nivonians and their intricate, assassin-proof palace had made him uneasy.

            At least when they’d gone to Nivon, their group hadn’t been matched in number and surrounded by soldiers in too close of a range.

            It’s just for their safety, Lance reminded himself. They want this alliance too.

            Hopefully.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

            It took almost ten minutes just to get to the front doors of the Eruda Center from the airfield. The magic of seeing a planet so similar to the place where Keith had spent most of his days after the Garrison and before Voltron had worn off, what with everything happening. Instead of being enthralled, Keith found himself wondering why the hell these people didn’t have some sort of truck or other vehicle to transport people and luggage to and from the airfield faster than this. There was a reason he had a speeder, and it was so he didn’t spend the entire day getting covered head-to-toe in sand and being fried alive by the heat.

            The soldiers surrounding them did nothing to help. Whether the soldiers were for the politicians’ safety or for the Paladins’ safety, Keith still wasn’t sure, but either way, they were becoming unnerving. When he glanced to his side, down at Pidge, she looked back up at him with the same wary expression.

            A shadow fell over her face as the group stepped into the entry hall of the Eruda Center, the lights in here much dimmer than the natural lights outside—so dim they were almost nonexistent.

            “Excuse the change in lighting,” Commander Luala said, almost as though she could hear Keith’s thoughts. She hadn’t even spared the Paladins a glance as she spoke. “Often we keep them dim to disorient anyone looking to come in here with…less than wholesome intentions. As their eyes adjust, our guards assess the situation, and take the necessary actions.”

            Guards?

            Keith cut his eyes to the sides of the room, where in the shadowed alcoves of the walls, guards with the same bayoneted rifles stood at attention. Their visors—likely with visionary aids—shielded their eyes from Keith’s gaze. On Keith’s side of the room alone, they had to have passed at least twenty guards, and if he doubled that number to account for the other side of the room, that made forty. If he counted the soldiers surrounding them, that made for forty-seven Tarvinians. Nearly seven times as many people as there were on Team Voltron.

            He didn’t doubt the team’s fighting skills, but here, they were not in the Lions, and these were not robotic sentries. These guards and soldiers had free will and the ability to actually think about the situation. If things went downhill, Keith did not care for the odds of their survival.

            From the energy about the others—or at least, the energy about Pidge, Hunk and Lance—Keith could tell they were thinking the same thing.

            “Are the other embassies like this?” Shiro asked from the front of the group.

            Keith flicked his eyes forward again, to Commander Luala.

            “No,” Commander Luala admitted. “Tarvin One is our most technologically advanced planet, and its embassy has its own defenses against unsavory visitors. Tarvin Three’s embassy has guards like this base, but they’re fewer in number, since Tarvin Three rarely has visitors, and rarely has residents that go to the embassy. And, of course, Tarvin Four has no embassy, since the only people who live there are our military personnel, and our military bases are extremely secure.”

            Somehow, the answer wasn’t the least bit reassuring. Especially not when Tarvin was supposed to be relatively peaceful.

            Keith let that thought simmer, rather than tucking it away, as Commander Luala led them through the halls of the Eruda Center. As they moved away from the entry hall, the guards became fewer in number, just a few posted at hallway intersections, at different doorways. Keith noted the security cameras that appeared nearly every ten feet. If the Eruda Center was this secure, then what was the military base like? And how lacking was the embassy on Tarvin Three?

            Commander Luala led them up a winding staircase that called for the group to go up single-file. Commander Luala went first, followed by Allura, then Coran, and then Shiro, and then two of the soldiers. Keith ushered Pidge in front of him, to keep at her back. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as another soldier, rather than Lance or Hunk, followed him. And then another soldier. And then Lance came up, Hunk at his back, and then the last two of the soldiers.

            Keith kept one hand at the side of his suit, ready to activate his bayard at a moment’s notice. Despite the security, the Tarvinians had been nothing but friendly so far. They, like the Nivonians, were taking no chances. But Eddul. Eddul. Not everyone would warn them ahead of time if they’d been betrayed. Cuffili had tried to be generous with that warning, as though it would make up for the fact that he and the Eddulans had turned Team Voltron over to the Empire. Not everyone would do that.

            If the security measures were any indication, if the Tarvinians betrayed them, they would not have any warning whatsoever.

            The soldiers fanned out as the group reached the top of the staircase, and the Paladins fell back into formation. Keith looked over at Pidge, raising his eyebrows in question.

            You okay?

            Pidge nodded, half of her mouth curling up.

            I’m fine. We’re Paladins and we can handle this.

            “Here we are,” Commander Luala said, stopping in front of a door. “For security measures, we log any and every person who sets foot into this room, regardless of how many times they’ve been here before.”

            “And where is here, might I ask?” Coran spoke up.

            “These are the Niroy Havinus Memorial Chambers. It’s our chancery, where Chancellor Verna and the Tarvinian Representatives conduct all of their affairs,” Commander Luala said. “You will be asked for your full name, any and all official ranks or titles, and the business you have being here. You will be speaking to a computer system with a built-in lie detector, with a ninety-nine percent accuracy rating when it comes down to finding liars. Should any of you be found lying, the terms of our deal are off, and you will be removed from the premises. If anyone puts up resistance, we will not hesitate to use force, and depending on how resistant you are, and how much of a threat you pose to the safety of our planet, our chancellor and representatives, and all of our guards and soldiers, this force may be fatal. Just as you have asked for military escort as a precaution for your own safety, we Tarvinians must also think of our safety. I do hope you understand.”

            Pidge stiffened, so imperceptibly Keith almost didn’t notice.

            Hunk and Lance must have noticed too—Keith felt them shifting at his back, and Hunk even reached out and put a steadying hand on Pidge’s shoulder.

            “We understand completely,” Allura said. “Of course, we mean no harm. But we will comply.”

            She looked over her shoulder at the others, meeting Pidge’s gaze for a fraction of a second before turning away.

            Hunk squeezed her shoulder and let go as Commander Luala opened the door, to reveal a small foyer, with a computer screen at the right-side wall. The Paladins shuffled back into a single-file line, and this time, the soldiers made their own lines along each side of the doorway, effectively boxing the Paladins in.

            As intimidating as it was, relief washed over Keith—Lance was at his back, and not some soldier he couldn’t see, with a weapon he’d have to rush to defend against if he were to be attacked.

            Keith listened to the others give their names and titles and business being in the chancery. Allura had begun it all, and stated her business as being a “diplomatic mission to secure an alliance between Tarvin and the Voltron Paladins.” Coran repeated it, and then Shiro—so that was what the others would go with.

            Commander Luala nodded as Pidge stepped inside the foyer. Keith gave her another nod, one he hoped was leagues more encouraging than the one from the commander.

            “Pidge…Holt.”

            That was new. Keith had never heard Pidge refer to herself as anything other than Pidge Gunderson—but then again, he hadn’t heard her use a full name in a long time. Probably not since their first week in space, when she was still hiding her identity. He held his breath along with her, as they waited for the system to somehow react angrily to her statement, waited for the guards to snap out of formation and grab her and drag her out of the building.

            But nothing happened.

            Pidge breathed a small sigh of relief.

            “Green Paladin of Voltron. Here on a diplomatic mission to secure an alliance between Tarvin and the Voltron Paladins,” she finished, and the computer beeped, a beep it had done for everyone else, and Pidge was allowed to join Shiro, Coran, and Allura the chancery.

            Keith stepped up to the computer next.

            “Keith Kogane. Red Paladin of Voltron. Here on a diplomatic mission to secure an alliance between Tarvin and the Voltron Paladins,” Keith said, and the computer beeped, and he was through.

            He eyed the computer as it logged his information. He didn’t like people having his real name if they didn’t need it. Especially not people whose allegiance still wasn’t totally clear. If they were handed over to the Galra again…

            Don’t even think about it.

            So Keith tried not to think about it—the damage the Galra could do if they had the Paladins’ full names, the ability to trace their routes back to Earth and find their families. Well—everyone’s family but Keith’s. As far as he was concerned, the team was the only family he had left. But the others, they still had parents and siblings, and cousins and nieces and nephews.

            Keith watched Lance speak to the computer, unease written in his features.

            Lance loved his family to pieces. If something were to happen to them, the emotional damage it would do to Lance had the potential to be catastrophic. He was already having nightmares and flashbacks because of the Galra and their fucking emperor. If it got any worse—

            Keith’s fists clenched before he realized it. He uncurled them slowly.

            Relax. It’s just speculation. Everything is gonna be fine.

            Lance came to his side, the computer allowing him through. His fingers brushed Keith’s, and a look passed between the two of them. Unlike Keith’s hard and guarded expression, Lance’s was soft.

            Sometimes Keith wanted to hate Lance. Even when he was scared, this boy was still going out of his way to reassure Keith that things would be okay.

            Keith could not hate this boy if he tried.

            The two of them waited for Hunk to wrap up and entered the chancery as a group, linking back up with the rest of Team Voltron. They stood against a wall, waiting for Commander Luala to enter the room—a room filled with representatives from across Tarvin’s planetary chain.

            At the front of the room, there was one desk, where Chancellor Verna sat. She smiled at the Paladins warmly, at odds with the darkness and cool color scheme—black and blue and green, mostly—of the room. In front of her was a rather large computer. Behind her, on the wall, was a massive viewing screen. Around the room were concentric rings of desks, where the other representatives sat, each facing the center, each with their own computer. The further out the rings got, the more raised the floor became. At the center of the room was a podium on a raised platform, facing Chancellor Verna’s desk. It, too, was equipped with a computer, much smaller than all of the others, allowing the chancellor full view of the face of whoever stood at that podium.

            The whole room looked better equipped for an interrogation than a discussion.

            “All right, everyone,” Chancellor Verna announced into a microphone, voice echoing around the already-silent room. She drew the gazes of the representatives toward herself and away from the Paladins, but Keith still didn’t let his muscles relax. Still didn’t move his hand away from his side, where he could activate his bayard the moment things went wrong.

            “As you know, we have guests with us today,” Chancellor Verna went on. “Today, we are accompanied by the Paladins of Voltron, Princess Allura of Altea, and her adviser, Coran Smythe. They seek an alliance with our planetary chain. In forming an alliance, they will receive our friendship and military aid; in return, we receive the protection of what is known to be the greatest weapon in the universe.”

            The eyes in the room returned to Team Voltron.

            Hunk, Lance, Allura, and Coran all raised hands in tentative greeting, whereas Shiro, Keith, and Pidge all gave nods—Keith’s a little more terse than everyone else’s.

            “Princess Allura,” Chancellor Verna called.

            Allura stepped forward.

            Keith’s fingers twitched at his side.

            “Come to the podium. Please, plead your case for us. Let us hear from you, your offer in your own words.”

            Chancellor Verna raised a hand over her desk, gesturing to the podium.

            Allura nodded, moving down the staircase closest to them, down into the center of the room. She stepped onto the platform where the podium was, squaring her shoulders as she looked up at Chancellor Verna.

            Before she could speak, Chancellor Verna held up a hand.

            “Deepest apologies, Princess. I’ve almost forgotten—”

            At Keith’s right, Shiro flinched.

            “—we do not want the representatives on Tarvin One and Three to miss this. Not everyone can work in this building, after all. Representative Li’ian, if you could establish a three-way transmission.”

            Shiro relaxed.

            Keith did not.

            Another Tarvinian, this one with greenish-brown skin, set to work at a computer. The screen behind Chancellor Verna flickered to life, the words ESTABLISHING TRANSMISSION: TARVIN ONE, TARVIN THREE blinking in soft white light.

            After about a minute, a low screech sounded. Every Paladin winced, as did many of the representatives around the room, and the words were replaced by new words in red: TRANSMISSION FAILED.

            “This is troubling,” Chancellor Verna said, as murmurs went up around the room.

            Allura turned and shot a look at the other Paladins standing along the wall.

            “Li’ian,” Chancellor Verna said, “perhaps try establishing them one at a time?”

             And so Representative Li’ian did, attempting first to establish a transmission to Tarvin One. As before, the low screech rang out, TRANSMISSION FAILED flashing above Chancellor Verna’s head. They received the same result in attempting to establish a separate transmission to Tarvin Three.

            “This is…unusual,” Chancellor Verna said, looking between Allura and the Paladins. “My deepest apologies.”

            “Do you know what the problem could be?” Pidge asked, stepping forward. The room fell silent as soon as she spoke up, every eye swiveling toward her.

            Some of the Tarvinians seemed surprised to hear her speak. Others raised skeptical eyebrows. Still, others sneered, and one of them called out, “What would you know of our technology? Have you caused this?”

            Pidge didn’t even flinch. The other Paladins and Coran pulled tighter about her.

            “Excuse me,” Chancellor Verna said, eying the representative who’d spoken out. “They are guests and potential allies who are trying to aid us in solving a problem.”

            She turned back to Pidge. “I’m not sure. Li’ian, if you could do a scan of the system—”

            “It’s not us. Someone on Tarvin One or Tarvin Three is scrambling communications,” Li’ian replied.

            “Is there a way to pinpoint what it could be from here?” Pidge asked.

            “No,” Li’ian replied. “We could try, but it might take time. The best way to solve this problem would be to go to the source. However, it would waste precious time. If we could proceed anyway—”

            “The representatives on Tarvin One and Three will not be kept in the dark,” Chancellor Verna interrupted. “We do not make decisions without their input.”

            Shiro raised his hand.

            Chancellor Verna nodded to him. “Yes, Takashi Shirogane?”

            Shiro hesitated at hearing his full name spoken out loud, but then replied, “Chancellor, if the Paladins could be of any assistance, we could send them out to try and aid the other embassies, if we were given their coordinates.”

            “That’s a waste of time,” the same rude representative from before called out. “We’d need to get more military personnel here to escort them!”

            “Not if they’re given express clearance with the necessary documentation, which we can draw up for them right here,” Chancellor Verna said. “State your plan, Takashi Shirogane.”

            “Tarvin One is mostly technology-based, is that a correct statement?” Shiro said.

            “It is,” Chancellor Verna responded.

            “Good. Pidge, Ke—Hunk, you two can go to the embassy on Tarvin One. Lance, Keith, you two will head out to Tarvin Three—I know Blue loves water, and so do you, Lance.”

            Lance grinned at Shiro, and Keith couldn’t help but crack a little grin of his own.

            “Will do,” Lance said.

            “All right. I’ll stay here with Allura and Coran, and we can continue the meeting. Everything will be relayed over the comms, and if they don’t work, don’t freak out, just work to get them back online,” Shiro said. He raised his head to look at Chancellor Verna. “Assuming, of course, this plan is all right with you?”

            Chancellor Verna smiled thinly. “As long as our communications are restored. Of course, if it comes to light that you or your team have attempted anything that puts our people in jeopardy…there will be consequences. But from what I’ve seen so far, I trust you’ll be of help to us.”

            “Thank you,” Shiro said.

            “Thank you. Representative Ori, please draw up the necessary documentation and the coordinates of each embassy,” Chancellor Verna said.

            Another representative grumbled something under their breath and set to work at their computer. Keith looked at the other Paladins, at Coran, at Allura.

            The thing crawling under his skin was beginning to settle.

            The Paladins—well, four of them, anyway—wasted a whole fifteen minutes exiting the chancery and getting marched by soldiers back down to the airfield. This time, Commander Luala had opted to stay in the chancery, which meant the flanking positions of the soldiers changed—two led, two followed rear, and one stood on each side of the Paladins. Keith and Lance walked alongside each other at the back of the group of Paladins in the center, Pidge and Hunk in front of them.

            The soldiers never broke formation until the Paladins were right at the entrance to the castle. As soon as they were free, the four of them took off sprinting toward the bridge. When they arrived, Pidge and Hunk made breaks for their Lions. Lance moved to do the same, but Keith grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into an embrace.

            “Be safe,” Keith said into Lance’s ear.

            “I’ll be with you. I’ll be fine,” Lance murmured, and Keith could hear the smile in his voice.

            Lance pulled back and pressed a kiss to Keith’s forehead. Keith tilted his mouth up, and Lance tilted down, and their lips brushed softly, once, before they pulled back and bolted for their own Lions.

            Red, being the faster Lion, was out of her hangar first, and she and Keith waited for Lance and Blue to catch up before they headed toward the atmosphere, and then away from Tarvin Two and off to Tarvin Three.

            The journey in their Lions did not take long. The problem was finding a place to land.

            “Does—have—airfield? Or military base?” Lance’s voice crackled in Keith’s comms.

            Keith frowned.

            Blue wasn’t even that far away from him.

            “Lance, can you fly closer? I didn’t catch all of that.”

            “Rog—”

            In Red’s left window, Keith caught sight of Blue, flying in tighter formation.

            “I said,” Lance said, and now Keith could hear him, “does this place have an airfield? Or a military base? Or anything useful to land on? When Coran said all water, he meant all water. Jeez.”

            “There’s vegetation,” Keith said, and pointed out the thick trees and gnarled roots jutting out from the water, limp leaves and vines creating thick canopies.

            “Yeah, vegetation that’ll make landing harder. Oh! I see something! Hey, there’s an airstrip!”

            Keith squinted out his window—just behind the embassy they’d been led to, there was an airstrip. A small one, mostly crowded already, but with just enough room to squeeze in two Voltron Lions.

            Lance led the way, bringing in Blue for a landing closest to the water. Red came down next to her, and moments later, Lance and Keith deboarded.

            They at least expected someone to come forward and question them, and ask them what they were doing, seemingly unauthorized, on the airstrip, but no one stepped forward.

            Correction: there wasn’t anyone to step forward.

            “Where is everyone?” Lance whispered.

            Keith narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

            He tried to activate his comms, to Shiro and the others, but all he got in his ear was static.

            “Nothing’s coming in or out. Except you, but we’re in pretty close proximity,” Keith said.

            “This is just like that one planet, with the weird atmosphere—” Lance started.

            “This place shouldn’t have a weird atmosphere,” Keith cut in.

            His unease, waning before, slammed back into him at full force.

            Keith activated his bayard, Lance following suit. They matched strides all the way around the embassy, to the front doors. Not a single soldier or guard stood posted.

            “You think maybe this place is just neglected?” Lance asked. “I mean…the way Coran was talking, most people who live here don’t want to. Do you think they just decided that this embassy wasn’t worth protecting? Even the commander said, this place wasn’t that heavily guarded. Because no one ever visits.”

            “Maybe,” Keith conceded, after a heartbeat. “Keep your guard up anyway.”

            “Got it,” Lance said.

            Keith looked between Lance, and the door, and slowly shouldered it open. He stepped inside first. Behind him, Lance hissed, “I’m on your six.”

            Keith knew an embassy was different from the Eruda Center, but the difference in layout was still jarring. This place was dark, but evidently, not by choice. Every light in the grand lobby Keith and Lance stepped into was out. Most of the light came from bioluminescent algae glimmering in glass floor panels, running along the flooring right against the walls.

            Keith and Lance’s helmets had to compensate.

            “Do you see anyone?” Keith whispered.

            His eyes swept the room, swept every desk, and there was not a soul in sight.

            “No,” Lance said, voice catching, “but it looks like wherever everyone went, they didn’t go willingly.”

            “I don’t like this,” Keith said. “We need to—LANCE, GET DOWN!”

            Lance hit the floor without a second thought, as a Galra soldier dropped down from a railing high above them. Keith slashed out with his sword, slicing straight through the armor, slicing through skin. The soldier stumbled and cried out for help, trying to at least stay on their feet, but Lance swept a leg out and tripped them. He scrambled to his feet, and he and Keith turned back for the door—only to find it locked, with a Tarvinian flanked by two Galra soldiers standing in their way.

            Keith and Lance stepped back, Keith raising his sword. Lance swung around and pressed his back to Keith’s, blaster raised.

            “We should’ve had thermal detection on,” Lance said. “We’re surrounded.”

            This is not happening.

            Keith’s heart sped up as he stared down the Tarvinian in front of him.

            “Who are you?” he demanded.

            “On the count of three,” Lance began with a whisper, so quiet that Keith only heard him through the comms, “we’re activating our jetpacks. There’s a second floor.”

            A second floor accessed by a balcony running all the way around the entry hall.

            Keith noted that, and nudged Lance with his heel to show that he understood.

            “I’m not going to tell you who I am,” the Tarvinian said, her voice high and mocking. “Not while you’re still armed and still have a slim chance of escape.”

            “One,” Lance hissed.

            “Why are the Galra here?” Keith tried.

            “Two.”

            Blaster fire sounded across the room, and Lance said, “Three.”

            Lance and Keith jumped and activated their jetpacks and rocketed up toward the ceiling, shots from Galra blasters zinging by their faces. Lance shot at a few Galra posted at the nearest balcony and grabbed onto the guard rail, flipping himself over and ducking down before he could take a hit. Keith followed suit, while down below, the female Tarvinian ordered soldiers after them.

            “Why the fuck are there Galra here?” Keith said, as he and Lance took off sprinting around the balcony.

            “I don’t know! Question it later! Right now, we need to figure out how to get our comms back online and then get out of here in one piece!” Lance said.

            He halted and put up his blaster, firing down the balcony as more soldiers came clambering up another set of stairs. Keith pressed up against him and activated his shield, to cover Lance’s back.

            “Find wherever this place’s chancery is,” Lance said. “It’s our best bet for the comms.”

            It didn’t take very long. Three doors down, just beyond the staircase being flooded with soldiers.

            “We need to get through the soldiers,” Keith said, gritting his teeth and lifting the shield to absorb several shots from the other side of the balcony. “Please tell me you can cut us down a path.”

            Lance laughed.

            “Isn’t cutting more your forte?”

            “You are not making that joke right now! We’re in battle!”

            “All right, all right.” The laughter faded from Lance’s voice. “You ready, mullet? I’m gonna charge. You better have my back.”

            I will protect this boy if it’s the last thing I do.

            Keith absorbed a few more shots, ducking behind the shield, keeping any and every blast away from Lance.

            “Of course,” he ground out. “On your count.”

            “No count. Let’s go!”

            Lance moved, and Keith moved with him. Blaster fire sizzled, and one shot from the soldiers got beyond the shield, striking Keith in the leg. Keith grit his teeth and hissed, refusing to cry out.

            “Did you just take a hit?”

            “Keep moving!”

            The hordes of soldiers must’ve caught on, because several of them gave up on shooting and began trying to converge on Lance and Keith as they moved past the stairs. Lance grunted, swinging his blaster and knocking one soldier upside the head before bringing the muzzle back down and firing into the crowd. Keith swiped at a few with his sword, the blade coming away coated in blood.

            “Why are there so many?” he shouted.

            “I don’t know! Do you think they were planning for all of us to be here?” Lance replied.

            All of us.

            Keith’s mind began to buzz.

            Shut it down. Think about this when you’re out of here.

            “Maybe?” Keith said.

            He thrust with his sword, stabbing one soldier who made too close of a swipe at him with a sword of their own. The Galra soldier’s blade clunked off of the shield.

            “Are we almost to the door?” Keith asked, risking a glance over his shoulder.

            He got his answer a second later, when Lance’s hand wrapped around his wrist and jerked him inside of a room, door slamming shut on the hordes of soldiers outside.

            “Yeah,” Lance breathed.

            Their reprieve barely lasted a second. Keith flinched at the sound of guns whirring to life. Lance tensed beside him, bringing his own blaster back up.

            Keith scanned the room, world dropping out from underneath him.

            This chancery was laid out differently from the one at the Eruda Center. There was no entryway to identify themselves, no guard posted at the door to stop them. The doorway led them straight into the room. Like the one at the Eruda Center, the floor was sloped, but this one wasn’t ringed. This one looked more like slats. Each slat had four desks, two on each side, with a staircase down the center, and there had to be at least ten slats. They led down to a podium, right in front of a center desk.

            A center desk where Lotor sat, feet up, smirk on his face.

            Around the room, Galra soldiers stood with guns aimed at Lance and Keith, while terrified representatives looked on. Scratch that—a few looked terrified. Those few were chained. The other representatives wore the same smug look that Lotor did.

            “Well,” Lotor said, getting to his feet. “It was a gamble, waiting here instead of on Tarvin One. But water? The Blue Lion? My gamble paid off. Soldiers. Apprehend them. Bring them down here. Alive. But, of course, if they resist, then use the necessary force. Especially on the Red One.”

            Keith couldn’t bring himself to speak. Instead, he pressed up against Lance, back-to-back.

            Lance took in a shuddering breath.

            “Ready?” Lance asked, voice no more than a whisper.

            Keith set his jaw. “Yep.”

            The soldiers in the room charged them, and with their backs to the wall, Lance and Keith couldn’t fight back as well as they wanted to. Things only got worse when the door at the back of the room burst open, and more soldiers flooded in.

            Keith could only slice through so many. He had to drop his shield, and resorted to using his own body to cover for Lance, while Lance tried to do the same for him.

            This isn’t happening. This cannot possibly be happening.

            Lance cried out.

            Keith whipped around, blood boiling. One of the Galra soldiers had gotten close enough to slash Lance in the leg, and Lance’s leg wobbled. He refused to go down, but he was coming dangerously close.

            “Stay with me here, Lance,” Keith said.

            “I’m doing my best,” Lance ground out.

            They didn’t last much longer. One soldier gave up on trying to fire at them or slice at them and took a running start, leaping and tackling Keith, leaving Lance vulnerable. He went down moments later.

            “No!” Keith shouted, struggling against the Galra soldier pinning him down. A few more converged on him, one stealing his bayard before he could get a chance to use it to stab the soldier in the face.

            Another one kicked him in the head, and for a moment, Keith’s vision went black.

            “Keith!” Lance shouted.

            Lance. Get to Lance.

            Keith could not, in fact, get to Lance. The soldiers flipped him onto his stomach and yanked back his arms, cuffing them before dragging him back to his feet. They forced him forward, down to the open space in front of Lotor. They placed him on one side of the podium. Behind him, Lance grunted as he was also dragged forward, and forced to his knees on the other side.

            Lotor leered at them from his side of the desk.

            “Isn’t this quaint?”

            He stepped out from his desk and walked around, until he was standing in front of the podium. A perfect space to look between Lance and Keith.

            “Take their helmets,” Lotor said, cocking his head. “I’d like a full view of their faces. Especially his handsome one.”

            He nodded toward Lance.

            “Leave him alone!” Keith shouted, attempting to surge forward, only for one of the soldiers behind him to pull him back. One of them ripped off his helmet. Maybe he would’ve been a little more concerned about that, if his comms had been working and he could actually get a message out to the team.

            What are they going to say?

            Are Pidge and Hunk okay?

            Is anyone going to come after us?

            Lotor shifted his gaze to Keith. He smiled wider.

            “Look at you. Absolutely helpless.”

            He unsheathed his sword.

            “Don’t hurt him!” Lance shouted, voice cracking.

            With the podium between them, Keith couldn’t see him, and he was almost glad for it.

            He didn’t want to see the anguished look that was probably on Lance’s face.

            Lotor brought the tip of his blade down to Keith’s throat.

            Keith swallowed hard and made himself look Lotor in the face.

            “Please!” Lance shouted, and now Keith heard him thrashing, trying to break free of the soldiers holding him back. “I’m the one you want! He doesn’t deserve this!”

            “Lance, don’t,” Keith said, his own voice breaking. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—

            Lotor flicked his eyes back to Lance. Keith’s blood ran cold.

            “Knock him out,” Lotor ordered. “We can deal with him back at Central Command.”

            “No,” Keith said, eyes widening. “No! Leave him—Lance! Don’t touch him!”

            “Keith—” Lance started, only to be cut off with a sharp cry as one of the soldiers holding him back brought down the butt of their gun.

            Lance went limp, and Keith couldn’t see him. He only knew that Lance had gone silent.

            “No! Let him go, Lotor!”

            “Nonsense,” Lotor replied, eyes settling back on Keith. “Do you know how many times I’ve nearly had him back, only for him to slip away again? I’ve finally gotten what I want. He’ll come back to Central Command with me, and now I have you at my mercy.”

            If I die now, Lance might never know.

            If I die now, we ’ll never see each other again.

            I ’m going to die.

            Keith blinked back the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. If he was going to die, he was not going to die crying in front of this piece of shit.

            “Unfortunately,” Lotor said, drawing his sword back, grinning at Keith. “I’ve struck up a deal. The terms were a little unfair on my part, but…as you might know, your lover’s worth a heavy price.”

            “He’s not some object for you to—” Keith began. A soldier clamped a hand over his mouth, silencing him.

            Keith settled for glaring daggers at Lotor.

            “So,” Lotor continued, “If these people helped me get the Blue Paladin, I was to help liberate their planet. I’m not sure if you know, but Tarvin Three is a wasteland. The people who once decided to live out here by choice have been forgotten and left to rot, and with their crumbling economy and infrastructure, they’ve no way off the planet. Some others are exiled here, largely forgotten by the central powers on Tarvin Two.”

            Keith watched Lotor begin pacing back and forth in front of him.

            “The representatives helped me jam communications across the three main Tarvins. Of course, I did need help on Tarvin One, so I’m imagining, as you and your lover came here alone, that there are a couple other Paladins currently fighting for freedom over there.”

            Pidge and Hunk.

            They could make it out, couldn’t they? Wouldn’t they figure out what was going on? Tarvin One was a tech-based society, and Pidge and Hunk were tech geniuses.

            They have to make it out. They have to get back to Shiro and get here and help us.

            “Hmm. The faraway look you have on your face tells me I’m correct,” Lotor said. “Anyway. My contact on this planet asked for something…extra. You see, she has her own agenda.”

            “I do,” a voice came from the back of the room.

            Keith looked back, to see the same female Tarvinian from before making her way to the front.

            She stood next to Lotor and grinned down at Keith. “Hello, Red.”

            “Who the fuck are you?” Keith asked.

            The Tarvinian feigned a frown.

            “That’s no way to talk to Chancellor Verna’s daughter, now, is it?”

            Keith paled.

            Chancellor Verna’s daughter laughed.

            “If you’re worried you’ve been betrayed, don’t. My mom’s the one who left us to rot. We did this all by ourselves. But the emperor here is right. I’m one of the few people on this planet with a way off. We need money—we’re broke. People are starving and dying while Tarvin One continues to pour money into their own lavishness. So I figured, where better to make money than with a Paladin of Voltron? One with Galran blood? Do you know, Red, how many people would kill to have someone like you? Nobody ever thought the Galra had reached Earth before. No one’s ever seen a human-Galra hybrid like yourself.”

            What the fuck is happening what the fuck is she serious this is not happening I have to be dreaming oh holy fucking hell—

            “So,” the Chancellor’s daughter continued, “you’re coming on a little trip with me. Alive. Isn’t that nice? And then we’ll see which scientists on our outpost in the Bovona System want you the most.”

            Keith shuddered, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat.

            This. Was not. Happening.

            “Yes,” Lotor said, disdain dripping in his voice. “She’s given her reassurance that you won’t escape. Of course, it would be simpler to kill you and end the threat you pose, but…a deal is a deal. Now, seeing as we’re done here…knock him out, as well. Chart a course for Central Command, we need to get away before the other Paladins come back…”

            Lotor walked away from Keith, weaving into the crowd of his soldiers, and before Keith had a chance to respond, to shout something, to try and break free one last time, something struck the back of his head, and consciousness slipped away.

Chapter Text

Epilogue

            Lotor’s ship had been in flight for some number of vargas when an officer entered the bridge. Lotor turned. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of this particular officer; this one was one of the ones tasked with dealing with the Blue Paladin.

            “Your Imperial Majesty,” the officer started, “the Blue Paladin is awake.”

            Ah.

            The soldier who’d knocked out the Blue Paladin had hit him harder than Lotor had previously thought. He’d anticipated the Blue Paladin waking up shortly after takeoff, instead of when they were almost back to Central Command.

            “Lead the way,” Lotor said, as though he didn’t have the layout of his own ship memorized.

            The officer started out of the bridge, and Lotor followed suit, calling orders to the others in the room to keep on their track for Central Command.

            The officer and Lotor were silent as they walked down to the cell block, where Lotor had ordered the Blue Paladin be taken. There were a million ways Lotor could think of for this confrontation to go. At the very least, he was expecting to be asked about the Red Paladin. And what would he tell the Blue One? Lotor figured he might snap if he was told the Red Paladin was dead, but it would at least crush any hope of ever seeing him again. If he told the truth, well, then Lotor imagined the Blue Paladin might try to escape and rescue the Red One, and resist any and all attempts Lotor made to ease him into his new life. If he said simply that the Red One got away, Lotor imagined endless questions and endless disbelief.

            The Blue Paladin was not stupid.

            He would know there was no way either of them could’ve gotten out of that situation.

            The dead story worked best, Lotor decided. At least then, he’d be able to explain away the presence of the Red Paladin’s armor and bayard and lion aboard the ship.

            Lotor and the officer arrived at the Blue Paladin’s cell. The officer opened up the door, light flooding into the cramped space. Lotor stepped in next, and smiled down at the Blue Paladin. He sat on the floor, hands cuffed behind his back. He’d been stripped down to the black jumpsuit that the Paladins wore underneath their armor—Lotor couldn’t have him finding a way to defend himself, after all.

            The Blue Paladin looked up with wide eyes, the look of a frightened animal, wounded and cornered with no escape.

            “Who are you?” he asked, voice shaking. “W-Where am I?”

            Lotor narrowed his eyes and knelt down in front of the Blue Paladin. When the Blue Paladin made no attempt to get away, Lotor raised his eyebrows.

            “What do you mean?” he asked. “You don’t know where you are? You don’t know who I am?”

            The Blue Paladin shook his head, eyes dead-set on Lotor. “No! I-I…I don’t know—”

            “Can you tell me what you remember?” Lotor asked, cocking his head to the side.

            The Blue Paladin’s gaze went distant. When he seemed to return to reality a minute or so later, his face went slack.

            “I-I can’t…I don’t know what happened, I don’t…”

            Lotor studied the Blue Paladin, hope swelling in his chest. Hope was, of course, a fickle little thing, especially when it came down to the Blue Paladin. Especially when he’d been fooled by him before.

            I’ve let you into my heart once.

            “Can you tell me your name?” Lotor asked, reaching out a hand and placing it on the Blue Paladin’s shoulder.

            The Paladin did not even flinch. Lotor suppressed the grin trying to make its way across his face.

            The Blue Paladin dropped his chin, eyes studying the floor panels. Then there was a sharp intake of breath, and the Blue Paladin scooted back a little.

            Lotor’s hand went to his side by pure instinct, ready to draw his blade at a moment’s notice.

            “I don’t know…I can’t remember.”

            He dragged his eyes back up, those deep blue eyes. Lotor wondered if it was normal for hearts to miss a few beats. His lips curled up at their ends.

            The Blue Paladin did not remember his identity.

            If he couldn’t remember his identity, or the events leading up to now…then the Blue Paladin posed no threat. No threat at all.

            Lotor brought his fingers beneath the Blue Paladin’s chin. “You don’t remember at all?”

            The Blue Paladin took in a shuddering breath. “No. It’s all dark and foggy. D-Do you…do you know? Do you know who I am? Can you help me? Please?”

            This time, Lotor let himself smile.

            “Of course, my love,” he said.

            The Blue Paladin raised his eyebrows, eyes widening. “L-Love…?”

            “Yes,” Lotor answered. “Your name is Jeremy Ortega. You’re my lover and second-in-command. You’re telling me you remember none of that? I’m a little hurt, darling.”

            The Blue Paladin’s face softened. “I’m sorry…um, what’s your name?”

            “Lotor.”

            “I’m so sorry, Lotor. I can’t believe I’d forget that…”

            The Blue Paladin’s gaze dropped back to the floor, and he made a frustrated little noise in the back of his throat.

            “It’s all right,” Lotor said. “After all you’ve been through, it is understandable.”

            The Paladin raised his eyes, eyebrows knitted.

            “All I’ve been…through…?”

            Lotor stood up, and then reached down. He took the Blue Paladin gently by the elbow and eased him to his feet. The Blue Paladin’s legs wobbled, so Lotor continued to hold onto him, to steady him.

            “Yes,” Lotor said. “You were on a mission for me. You infiltrated the Voltron Paladins. They’re the biggest threat to the universe, and we’ve been trying to put them down for some time. They discovered your true allegiances, to the Galra Empire, to my heart, and they tried to hurt you for it. The Red Paladin, especially.”

            The Blue Paladin—Jeremy, Lotor settled for, seeing as the Blue Paladin had accepted the name—nodded slowly.

            “I came back for you,” Lotor said, voice growing softer. “I rescued you, and now you’re safe. You’re home, my dear.”

            He reached around behind Jeremy and undid the handcuffs. Once they were off, Jeremy brought his hands around the front of him, rubbing at his wrists. Lotor gently took his hand.

            “Come,” he said. “Let’s get you changed, and then we can discuss our plans for taking down Voltron once and for all.”

            Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. All right.”

            His voice was soft.

            Lotor hesitated, and then leaned over and pressed a kiss to Jeremy’s temple. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away.

            Jeremy smiled, and Lotor knew then that Voltron didn’t stand a chance.

End of Part II