Chapter Text
Chapter 13: Dropoff, Discovery, and Disaster
Things had progressed smoothly over the past several weeks. Fort Clarence, as everyone was calling him now, had been fully refurbished and upgraded, and the Blades had taken him out and away into the secret reaches of space that only they knew. Kolost and his family had been settled into a comfortable home just outside of the city, where they could work most comfortably with their hosts. This arrangement was a very hopeful thing; some Olkari were uneasy about having a Galra family living nearby and learning from them, and needed some time and a little space to get used to them. Sarell didn't mind this at all. She was happiest when surrounded by old-growth forest, but she found the locals to be a little weird. Tessela and her brothers didn't care one way or the other; Olkari youngsters were already sneaking away from their own studies to play with the admittedly adorable cubs, and Kolost was willing to welcome them. Free babysitting, especially for eight increasingly active toddlers, was never something that one should turn away.
The Olkari had other things to be fascinated about in any case; Hunk's astonishing aetheric engine had attracted whole crowds of eager scholars, and Pidge had spent a great deal of time explaining what she had done to revive, merge, and revitalize a pair of near-defunct AI's. Clarence, she had been told, was no mere computer. He was a live ship now, and completely unfettered by control modules, and as much a person as the next man. The fact that he was perfectly happy to work with flesh-and-blood types instead of running off into the stars alone was unusual; the reason why live ships were so rare was that they had a nasty habit of going feral, and could often cause great harm to or even actively seek to wipe out any organic life that they encountered. To all of this, Hunk merely shrugged. “We love machines,” he said simply, “why build something that's going to hate everybody? Sounds counterproductive to me.”
Even with all of this friendly attention, it was not entirely a bad thing to have to leave, even though the Castle was once again too large and too empty without their guests. Zaianne had stayed, of course, but Lizenne and Modhri had retired to the Chimera along with the dragons for a time to get a little privacy. “The Olkari wished to speak with them, too,” Zaianne informed Allura and the others. “Often well into the night. They found the concept of Tahe Moq fascinating, I'm afraid, and they often wound up seeing the dawn from the wrong side of the clock. Let them sleep!”
Rest was definitely something that the resident mages had to consider, since they were currently on their way to Zampedri with a large cargo of Quintessence. Lizenne didn't know if she or any of the others would be needed to help restore a dead planet or two, but she did know that the Elder Dragons would definitely want a look at them, and that would be a wearing event all by itself.
Despite this, Hunk took a deep breath of the grass-scented air when they came down with the heavily-laden cargo pod and smiled nostalgically as the Chimera parked itself in what apparently was its usual spot. The Castle came down on a flat spot a mile or so away, and Hunk soon found himself joined by the whole crew.
“Nice place,” Lance said, observing the rolling yellow hills and blue-green sky. “Nobody mows much around here, do they?”
Lizenne flicked him an amused look. “Only the grazers, and in the hottest part of the summer, lightning storms will occasionally start grass fires. Lucky for us that it's autumn, eh? How shall we do this, Soluk?”
The dragon grunted, uttered a long string of crackling grumbles, and then he and Tilla vanished into the grasses.
“They've gone to have a talk with the greater pack,” Lizenne informed the others. “It isn't done to barge in on the Elders unannounced. They'll be back in a little while. In the meantime, we can relax a little.”
Allura gazed around curiously. “Will we go to them, or will they come to us?” she asked. “I'd rather not have to move that cargo pod any more than necessary.”
“I don't know,” Lizenne replied quietly. “I've only met with the Elders once before, shortly after I arrived the first time. I can't tell you how they'll react to this delivery.”
“How did they react to you?” Hunk asked.
Lizenne snorted. “With rather more interest than I liked. The Elder Dragons are big, and extremely powerful. Then they laughed at me, which is never a pleasant thing for a hot-tempered, angry teenager to hear.”
“Ah, yes, I know that one,” Coran said cheerfully, “we're all a self-important lot when we're young and beautiful, and a bit of well-deserved mockery stings more sharply than a bezwick bite. Necessary, though, if only in retrospect. I and the rest of the training staff were under orders to tease the cadets regularly in order to remind them that they weren't the center of the universe. Worked better on some than on others.”
Zaianne smirked. “We didn't bother with mockery. Bouncing trainees off of the walls and floor a few times has the desired effect. Let the enemy mock you, my own instructor said. If he's wasting time trying to think up inventive insults, then you have enough time to cut his throat.”
“You and your colleagues, Madame, are savages.” Coran chided.
She gave him an arch look. “No more than the enemy is, and we're rather better at survival than they are.”
Modhri had been standing a little apart, facing into the wind with his eyes half-hooded. “Do you think we have enough time to take a short walk, Lizenne?” he asked quietly, “I think that the sintras are blooming down in the marsh.”
Lizenne brightened up, sniffing at something in the air that neither the Alteans nor the Humans could detect. “You may be right. Let me get a bag of those sampling bottles and we'll go and have a look.”
“Sintras?” Pidge asked.
“Large flowering plants,” Modhri explained, watching his mate trot back to the Chimera. “The pollen and nectar have many uses, and she does not waste any opportunity to collect them. Besides, they're amusing, and the marsh is a pleasant place to be on a hot day. Most of the big predators prefer to avoid it.”
Zaianne frowned at him. “Do we dare to leave the pod unguarded?”
He nodded easily. “The dragons know that it's there, and probably what's in it. The pack is as one, Zaianne, and what one knows, all may know. Nothing will be permitted to disturb it.”
Keith shifted uneasily. “But the pack isn't here. There's nothing out there but grass.”
Modhri chuckled. “You're not paying attention. Watch the grass, boy. See the little glints of blue?”
Everyone blinked, and then took a good hard look at the surrounding prairie. Sure enough, there were sparks of azure among the yellow stalks, and the Paladins gasped as their eyes finally found the outlines that they had missed before. Concealed within the forest of grasses were dozens of dragons, all of them watching with interest, and all of them nearly invisible. “We're surrounded!” Coran yelped.
“We're protected,” Lizenne corrected him, coming up with a satchel slung over her shoulder. “Come on, it isn't far.”
The marsh was a quarter-hour's brisk walk through the grasses, trending slightly downhill to where a small creek bottomed out into a shallow depression in the hills. They smelled it before they saw it, a combination of damp earth, sun-warmed water, and the bewildering melange of a thousand varieties of blooming plants, sweet and spicy and potent. The air was full of tiny bird- and insect-equivalents that hummed and twittered, and their first sight of the marsh made Allura gasp in delight. It was beautiful, with large pools of open water mirroring the sky, and the yellow grasses gave way to pillowy mosses in shades of rich orange, red, and ochre. Huge stands of flowering plants bloomed extravagantly all around, and the waters were alive with small creatures.
“Stay on the red mosses,” Lizenne warned them, stepping carefully around a patch of ochre, “that's where the ground is firm enough to walk on. Step anywhere else and you'll sink. Don't try to catch the metallic green bugs, they sting, and will make you itch unbearably for a week. Those bushes over there with the silver spots on their leaves are to be avoided for the same reason, and Hunk, I know that those look like melons, but if you disturb them they will explode. I really don't want to have to spend the rest of the day picking the seeds out of your flesh. If you feel the need for a snack, dig under the plants with the fernlike blue leaves; the tubers are sweet, crunchy, and harmless as long as you wash them well and make sure to break off all of the little red warts. Try not to fall into the water, either.”
“Why not?” Lance asked, eyeing the pools suspiciously. “Are there, like, evil man-eating leeches, or little fish with huge sharp teeth or something?”
“No, the mud's just really sticky and a pain to get out of your fur.” Lizenne smiled at him and took a bottle out of her bag. “The evil man-eating leeches are dormant during this season, and the little toothy fish prefer bigger waterways. The only creatures that you really need to avoid other than the tinri flies are the ipiris and valmops. Ipiris are squat, blue, and have large red spots on their backs, and they shouldn't be touched with bare hands. Valmops look like blobs of rabid pink jelly. Feel free to poke at everything else.”
Well, not everything, as it turned out, although the results of that were more amusing than anything else. There was a large plant that put forth enormous, strong-scented flowers in a rich cobalt that was very pleasing to the Galra and the Humans, but one sniff made Coran's eyes spin in their sockets. He wobbled and fell over with a squelch into the mud, giggling uncontrollably, and had to be dragged up onto the bank to sober up. Allura made a mental note to avoid those and helped Lizenne in her gathering.
Lizenne's objective was a medium-sized flowering shrub with large, fragrant, pink-and-green flowers that looked for all the world like a pair of lips and a long hairy tongue. Pidge couldn't help but giggle at the sight of them. “Those remind me of kindergarten, on the day when we visited the zoo and all got lemon-lime snowcones. The food dye turned our tongues bright green, and we spent the rest of the day sticking them out at each other.”
Lizenne chuckled, slipping the “tongue” of one flower into the jar and tapping it lightly to release the pollen. “I like any plant that goes to so much effort to make faces at the universe. Especially when it produces substances that are useful.”
“What do you use them for?” Allura asked, eyeing the bottle of green powder curiously.
Lizenne sealed the bottle and brought out a fresh one, spreading the liplike petals apart and pressing a pair of bulbous nodes gently. This caused thin streams of a pinkish liquid to spurt into the jar. “The pollen can be used to make a powerful medicine for fungal infections, very important during the wet season. It can also be used to treat ailments of the nose and throat, and it's also good as a nutritional supplement when used to season food. The nectar is an antidote for several rather nasty poisons, and when combined with a few other things, can produce a potent truth serum. Very useful, if you need to get information without hurting your victim.” She smiled slyly at Pidge. “Or risk having him fall hopelessly in love with you.”
Pidge rolled her eyes. “I'm never gonna live that down, am I?”
“You are already legend among the Blades,” Zaianne told her, and then turned to Lizenne. “We would welcome a few samples of those, and the methods by which to use them.”
Lizenne handed her a couple of her sampling bottles. “You shall have them, although if your scientists can synthesize these chemicals, they're far more skilled than I am. Just warn your people that they're going to have to make certain agreements with the dragons if they want to come back to harvest more.”
Zaianne smiled. “We have made bargains with worse. What pacts will we need to make?”
Lizenne held a bottle of peach-colored liquid up to the light. “Promises of secrecy, mostly, and a promise to do no harm to any plant or animal that does not attack you first. You are not to overexploit these resources, nor are you to cause wildfires out of season, and you will be expected to eat what you kill, and to share your kills with any young dragons whose parents have not hunted successfully. You will also be expected to leave at least one of your number here.”
“As a hostage?” Allura asked sharply.
“As a student.” Lizenne fixed them with a grave look. “Galra have shown themselves to have very bad habits where it comes to planetary resources. If the Blades of Marmora wish to have access to Zampedri's bounty, they must come to understand why those habits are wrong, and to teach their fellows about proper balance and sustainability. Nothing on this world is ever wasted. Can your people spare a few inquisitive types, Zaianne?”
Zaianne looked thoughtful. “Possibly. I will speak with Kolivan about this. Will we also be taught Tahe Moq?”
“If one or more of them has talent, yes.” Lizenne put the jar of nectar away and smiled. “It is time, I think, that the discipline was resurrected.”
“We could sure use the help,” Pidge said, looking at her still slightly-knobby wrists. “Besides, Haggar needs to be taught that she can't have things all her own way. I'm sort of surprised that nobody's turned up in the last ten millennia that could challenge her.”
“Not among the Galra,” Zaianne said grimly, “not since the Sisterhood War. Those not taken for Druids have been assassinated, and such harvestings have not been uncommon elsewhere. I wonder if that's why the Alteans were preserved; your people have produced potent magi in the past.”
Allura gritted her teeth. “If so, I will free them. I will not allow Haggar to farm them like animals! Someday there will be a reckoning, and that witch will pay for what she has done!”
“Kheshveg, dear heart, it has been declared already,” Lizenne said with a fierce smile. “Her days are numbered, and already we have reduced her power. We will have to be careful, of course; you have revealed yourself to her as a puissant Mirror, and Pidge as a Technomancer, and she may attempt to take you again in order to steal your power or turn you against us.”
“Not happening.” Pidge said staunchly. “If she tries to turn me into some kind of monster, I'm going to--”
There were startled shouts from behind them, and they turned to see an amazing sight. Looming up above the grasses were the spiky heads and backs of five enormous dragons, easily three times the size of Tilla and Soluk, their burnished scales glinting in the sunlight and their eyes the same color as the sky. Creatures out of legend, awesome in the old sense of the word, they moved with vast dignity and surprising grace, and yet they moved in silence. Ancient, yet stubbornly vigorous, and keenly intelligent.
“My goodness,” Lizenne murmured, and then put her bottles away. “Ladies, come. We must greet the Elders.”
Later on, they were all unable to remember much about that meeting. The sheer force of presence that the Elder Dragons carried was immense, and tended to fog the details somewhat. They had all stood for inspection, they remembered that much clearly enough, even Coran, who had been shocked right through sobriety and out the other side by their attentions. Questions had been asked and answered, problems posed and solutions suggested, and a consensus reached. In the end, the whole group found themselves sitting in the back of the empty cargo pod without being at all sure of what had just happened. The sun was setting over the grasslands; half of a day had mysteriously vanished, and Lizenne was looking through a satchel of bottles that had all been filled, quite without her being able to remember filling them.
Eventually, Lance spoke up. “Guys, if I were to ask what just happened, would I get an answer that I can understand?”
“No,” Lizenne said absently, “but they took the canisters and the responsibility for them from us, and I have the impression that any more that we can bring them will be gratefully received.”
Hunk groaned and rubbed at his head. “Yeah. Wow. That was like talking with dinosaurs. Big, magic dinosaurs, but really awesome ones, like the kings and queens of all that is Godzilla, but nothing like as radioactive.”
“I must be tired,” Keith said, “that actually made some sort of sense. Allura, are you and Coran okay?”
Allura was sitting with her face in her hands and Coran was slumped against the wall, looking a bit shell-shocked. “I can't explain it,” Allura said in a thin voice. “They understood. About everything. Everything.”
“I'll be all right in a bit,” Coran said, trying to push himself up a little straighter and not having much luck. “Can't focus very well at the moment, though. By the Ancients. Allura, if we do manage to add the dragons to our Alliance, kindly remember to add those blue flowers to the list of proscribed substances when it's time to talk about trade, will you? My veins are still fizzing, and I think that I can see right through my hand.” He waved one vaguely before his face, eyes crossed. “Whooo—eeee—ooo...”
Pidge was looking at her own hands, which were stained green around the fingertips and smelled of sugarsnap peas for some reason. Smelling the sweet green aroma made her hungry, and she realized that breakfast had been a very long time ago, possibly in a galaxy far, far away. “Did we do any magic?” she asked muzzily, “Did they do any magic?”
“None of you did,” Modhri said softly, sounding vaguely stunned. “The Elders might have. I feel... this feels a little like the memories I have of the arena. Not bad, but... blurred. Lizenne blurred those memories to spare me pain.”
“Ours were blurred to spare everyone trouble,” Zaianne said, enunciating with painful clarity. “I expect that none of us can remember exactly what they did with the Quintessence. If we do not know, we cannot tell anyone else.”
“Makes sense,” Hunk said, heaving himself upright and stumbling to the open cargo door, peering out over the grasslands. Hey, there are our dragons. What's that they're carrying?”
Everyone looked out, seeing the pair of spiky pseudolizards approaching with something large and awkward-looking slung between their jaws. Lizenne smiled. “They have been hunting, and have caught a yulpadi. Very good. I invite you all to dinner, ladies and gentlemen. Hunk, I shall now teach you how to make my favorite stew.”
Yulpadis were weird-looking creatures, sort of zebra-ish and sort of spider-ish, with a hefty dose of steam shovel thrown in for good measure. They did make a delicious stew; so delicious, in fact, that the two Alteans dug in as eagerly as everyone else did. Pidge seemed determined to eat her own age in bowls, prompting Lance to say, “Hey, leave some for the rest of us!”
She waved her spoon at him and burped. “There's lots. Besides, aren't you guys always nagging me to gain weight?”
Hunk grinned and laid down his spoon. “Yeah. Let's just check that... ow!”
Pidge had rapped him smartly across the knuckles with her spoon. Modhri cast them both an admonishing look. “Children, no cadet-toss at table, please.”
“Yes, Uncle Modhri,” Hunk and Pidge chorused, and felt absurdly comforted by that. Here was family, makeshift as it was, even at the furthest ends of the universe.
Keith scraped his bowl and licked the spoon clean. “We're all really hungry, though. I haven't been this hungry since we took that mind trip. What did they have us doing? It's not like I can use magic, can I?”
“You tell me,” Lizenne said with a shrug. “I know that I didn't cast any spells. I'm already a known quantity to the Elders, and all they asked me for was an explanation. An explanation of what, exactly, I'm not sure. They may have asked you all for a demonstration of your talents, which was what they asked of me the first time, many years ago. Can you remember anything like that?”
The others stared at her blankly. “Not a bit of it,” Coran said.
The others concurred. Lizenne nodded and offered Keith another refill. “I couldn't either,” she said, ladling out fragrant stew. “I did have some rather unusual dreams for a few nights afterward. Be warned.”
Dreams or no dreams, there was work to do. The first payload of Quintessence had been delivered and it was time to attempt another; Kolivan had sent the Castle a message. One of his best operatives had managed to steal another key. Not without considerable trouble, alas. This key was to a larger, more heavily-guarded stockpile, and the Blade who had stolen it had not been quite so lucky as Zaianne in his getaway.
The Paladins were playing “blind hunt” with Zaianne, a game where they turned off the lights in one of the abandoned sections of the Castle and then coordinated with each other through the strength of their pack-bond alone in an effort to locate and capture the wily Blade. Zaianne, of course, was allowed to hunt and capture them right back, something she enjoyed perhaps more than she should, and rescuing the prisoners was all a part of the game. They had progressed to the point where they could actually see her through the bond now, as a swift shadow limned in blue. They'd even managed to capture her a few times, and their average was improving. Even now, Allura was running hard, bayard at the ready, aware of the motions of Hunk, Pidge, and Lance; Somewhere up ahead, Keith's aura had flared up like a torch in sudden alarm. She was the closest, and the other three were taking their direction from Pidge; the green Paladin's mental map of the Castle gleamed like a gem in her mind, and she showed them the likeliest paths that their shadowy foe would run for if Allura wasn't able to stop her. Allura darted around a corner and charged, her target in sight, the others converging on the three possible escape routes. Keith lay on the floor at the far end of the hall with a dark figure holding him down; three blue lights like eyes jerked up to focus on her and the creature leaped up and away...
There was a grunt and a thud, and a shout of “Gotcha!” from Hunk.
Zaianne's low chuckle drifted through the darkness, and then there was a crash of armor hitting the wall, and then the floor. Hunk yelped. Allura leaped over Keith's back and cannoned into Zaianne, knocking them both sprawling over Hunk's body in an awkward pile; she pressed her bayard hard across the back of the Blade's neck, forcing her head to the floor. “Yield,” Allura panted as the other three Paladins ran up, weapons at the ready.
Zaianne sighed. “Oh, all right, if I really must. You're getting better at this. Well done.”
Allura didn't fall for it this time. The game wasn't over until one or another of them said the actual word, and the last time that they'd forgotten to insist on that, Lance had wound up with the edge of Zaianne's knife pressed to his throat. Hostage dramas are only fun if you aren't the hostage, and no Blade of Marmora fought fair if they could possibly avoid it. “Yield, Zaianne,” Allura said.
Zaianne humphed, sounding a bit disappointed. “Fine. I y--”
Her words ended in a yelp, for the lights suddenly flashed on, blinding everybody. “Paladins! Get to your Lions!” Coran's voice crackled urgently over the PA system. “We've just received a distress call. Zaianne, I need you on the bridge!”
Cursing and rubbing at streaming, outraged eyes, everybody lurched up and headed for their stations. They were already in armor, at least, which saved time. “What's happening, Coran?” Allura demanded, sprinting for the bridge.
“The Marmoran who was bringing us that key wasn't able to get away cleanly—he's being pursued hard. Two Ghamparva craft and a heavy cruiser. His ship's damaged, and from the sound of him, he may be wounded as well. Hurry!”
The Paladins put on an extra burst of speed, and seconds later the Lions roared out into space, the Castle and the Chimera close behind them.
It didn't take them long to find the embattled Marmoran ship; neither the cruiser nor the Ghamparva were making any effort to conceal their actions, and the Blade's distress beacon was screaming across all channels while the pilot wove crazily to avoid enemy fire. Pack-bond still strong from their game, the Paladins formed Voltron almost instinctively, and the heavy cruiser wound up in pieces in very short order. The Lions disengaged to take on the Ghamparva craft, which had opted to pursue the Blade rather than to challenge the giant war machine; the Chimera and the Castle were keeping them busy, but they weren't quite up to dealing with the fast, agile Ghamparva ships. The Lions were faster and more agile still, and it was with great satisfaction that the Paladins saw their foes destroyed.
The Marmoran ship, however, had been badly damaged, and the red Lion had to bring it into the docking bay. Once inside, Keith dismounted in a hurry, rushing over to the torn ship. As he approached, the cockpit creaked open, the cracked canopy's bearings grinding unpleasantly, and the pilot half-staggered, half-fell out of his ship. Red-purple blood spattered the deck and the Blade clutched at his right shoulder; the arm hung limply, and glints of pale purple light showed between his fingers. Keith had seen that before, and knew what it meant. He caught the Blade before he could collapse, slinging the warrior's good arm around his shoulder and supporting his shaking steps. “I've got you, buddy,” Keith panted, “hold on, we'll get that looked at.”
“Keith?” Allura's voice came sharply through his helmet. “Is he still alive?”
“Yeah, but he's been hurt bad,” Keith replied, easing the gasping Blade toward the lift. “Looks like a Druid put a hole in him, possibly days ago, and he's lost a lot of blood. I'm heading for the infirmary now, but I could use some help here.”
The Blade wheezed in a breath. “The Princess,” he rasped. “Must get to the Princess. Now. I must give her the key...”
“She'll meet us there,” Keith reassured him.
“No... I must give it to her now...”
The Blade groaned, his knees trying to buckle under him, and Keith had to struggle to keep him upright. The wounded Galra wasn't as tall as some of his colleagues and very lean, but he was still taller and heavier than Keith was. The lift doors hissed open, and suddenly the others were there, Lance propping the Blade up on the other side. Lizenne was there too, although she paused well out of arm's reach, and her voice cracked out a warning shout of “Allura!”
The Blade's head came up and he lurched forward out of Keith's grip, the fingers of his working hand fumbling at a belt pouch. He cried out, a thin note of anguish sharp on the air, and he crumpled limply to the deck; something spurted out of his hand as he did so, a small, jagged metal object that struck purple sparks when it hit the floorplates.
“Don't touch it!” Lizenne snapped, going to her knees to examine the Blade, who was moaning faintly. “Damn. Kuphorosk to take that witch and break her into a thousand pieces, he's dying. Keith, Lance, roll him over and cut the suit away from that wound. Hunk, I'll need your strength to hold him still. Allura, Pidge, to me!”
The Paladins complied instantly, and they hissed in sympathy when they saw the wound. It was a deep hole in flesh and bone, big enough for Pidge to fit a fist into, and veins of livid luminescence had wound themselves through the exposed tissues. The blast he had taken had cauterized most of the wound, but blood still seeped from it, and it smelled bad.
“Two days ago, maybe three,” Lizenne said, examining the gory pit. “And probably with no food and certainly with no rest, and no time to treat it, and the physical injury is the least of his problems. Double damn. I may have to replace the arm, assuming that he lives. Allura, I want you to draw some of the energy off of that key—slowly, not all at once, and feed it to me. Do you see the hexes planted in him, Pidge?”
“Two of them,” Pidge reported, “strong ones. They're killing him!”
“I'm aware of that. I'll purify the energy that Allura gives me and pass some of it to you. Use it to undo those hexes, and carefully—he's not strong enough to bear having them popped all at once. The rest will go to strengthening him. Hunk, Lance, Keith, he'll try to fight. Hold him down and do not let him claw or bite you. Allura?”
Allura's hand hovered over the palm-sized object, but she did not touch it. Her fingers tingled as though she were holding them too close to a fire, and the thing stank of malice. Carefully, she opened that strange place beneath her heart and drew the power in, feeling it claw at her spirit, trying to find a way out of the constraints she was putting on it. It failed, for the Lion was there, locked onto her heart and lending her strength. She was not at all unhappy to pass the raw energy on to Lizenne, who grunted at the feel of it and sneezed violently, a cloud of what looked to be black mist spurting out into the air and dissipating. One hand was pressed to the Blade's chest, the other grasped Pidge's arm. The wounded Blade screeched at her touch, bucking hard against the hands holding him down, and the other Paladins were soon hard-pressed to keep the wild-eyed, snapping patient still. Pidge groaned with her own efforts, sweat trickling down her face as she wrestled the hexes loose from his body. The wound flared bright purple as the hexes forced him to fight her, and the Blade screamed in agony.
“More, Allura,” Lizenne ground out between gritted teeth, and then sneezed again as she separated Druid's malice from the energy.
Lance and Keith strained to keep the Galra man still, their own perceptions fizzing at the proximity of the aetheric forces warring all around them. They could see the pollution in the Blade's body and spirit, and how Pidge and Lizenne were combating it, and they did not know how they could help other than by continuing to hold him down. All they could do was watch as one hex, then the other, was wrested loose and crushed; Pidge sat back with a gasp of relief, leaving Lizenne to pour healing energy into the Blade's depleted body. He subsided with a moan, slipping mercifully into unconsciousness.
“Hunk,” Lizenne panted. “Get him to the infirmary. Now. Go! He is by no means out of danger yet!”
Hunk didn't bother to reply, but lifted the Galra as though he weighed nothing and ran for the lift. Lizenne heaved a huge sigh, coughed, and spoke a few words that caused a grass-scented breeze to flow through everyone present. “Are you all right?” Pidge asked. “What did they do to him?”
Lizenne gave her the ghost of a smile. “I'll be fine, after a snack and a nap. Paladins, you did everything perfectly. Is there any more energy in that key, Allura?”
The Princess handed her a piece of cast brass engraved with peculiar sigils. “Not much. I had to drain most of it out. That felt vile! It was much stronger than the first key.”
Lizenne turned it in her fingers a few times, then handed it to Pidge, who made a face and blew on it. The livid purple light lurking in the engraved symbols flickered and turned a clean, pale blue. Lance leaned back on his hands wearily. “But what did happen to him? I mean, some of it's kind of obvious, Shiro got one of those poisoned wounds too, but the rest...?”
Lizenne rubbed at her eyes. “The key had been booby-trapped. Bad enough that he'd been hit with a mage-bolt, but the key would have killed him for sure, and possibly the next person who touched it. It set two hexes in him, one that gave him a slow poison, and another that was forcing him to bring that poison to his superiors. It was also meant to trap any witch that might have touched it.”
“Really?” Keith gasped.
“Oh, yes. We did indeed save a life this time, and from a fate far worse than death.” Lizenne heaved herself to her feet and helped Pidge up. “Had Kolivan's best witch attempted to steal this key, it would have paralyzed her, and she would have joined the Druids... along with all of her fighting skills and every drop of information that she carried. I am amazed that our poor fellow lasted so long.”
“We'd better go check up on him,” Pidge said, handing the key back to Lizenne, who slid it into a pocket. “Zaianne's going to want to know everything.”
“And get something to eat,” Allura murmured, rubbing at her grumbling stomach. “Do witches usually spend so much time thinking about food?”
“If they're active ones, yes.” Lizenne chuckled. “All of that energy has to come from somewhere. Boys, are you all right?”
Lance and Keith were looking deeply troubled. “I'm fine,” Keith said, pulling off his helmet, “but, well... we were playing blind hunt with Zaianne before Coran yelled for us, and then we formed Voltron and smashed those ships--”
Lance flashed him a surprised look and continued for him. “Yeah, so our pack-bond was really active, and then we had to help here... and... and I could see what you guys were doing inside that Marmoran.”
“Me too,” Keith said. “I could see what you were doing, too, and I wanted to help...”
“But we didn't know how.” Lance finished, casting a sidelong look at the red Paladin.
Lizenne nodded. “You're probably nearing a breakthrough of your own, as the others have done. Do not be discouraged by this early failure, and don't try to force it. I'm not at all sure of how your talents are going to manifest. If it makes you feel better, I still haven't mastered more than half of my own discipline, and probably will never master it all.”
Lance smirked at her. “Still lousy at predicting the future?”
“All but hopeless at it.” She reached out and patted his shoulder. “Come on. I do need to see if I'm going to have to clone that poor fellow up a new arm, and I think that there might still be a few sausages in the cooler.”
“Dibs!” Pidge said, darting for the lift.
By some miracle, Kolanth was able to keep the original arm, although he was still wobbly and he tired easily even after several days in the infirmary. “Another hour or two, and he would've gone through the rest of his life with the nickname of 'Lefty',” Coran confided in them during that time, “gangrene is no laughing matter.”
Kolanth was just relieved that no one else had been hurt. “I was caught unaware,” he said in a dry voice, rubbing gingerly at the new scar on his shoulder. It was a large, pale mark among his dark fur that would be some time in fading. “I had little trouble finding the key, and opening the safe that it had been kept in was no trouble at all. My specialty, you see. It was when I touched the key that everything went to hell.”
“Bare-handed?” Zaianne asked.
“I'm not quite that much of an idiot,” Kolanth said with the ghost of a smile. “Drosh spared no details in his report. It had me, though, the instant that I picked it up, and all sorts of alarms went off at the same time. Between the poison and the compulsions, I was not able to fight what came after me, or even to dodge properly. I warn you all—Haggar has acquired more druids, and they are terrifying.”
“She also probably knows that we're after her stockpiles, hence the booby trap,” Allura said grimly. “We are going to have to be very cautious in the future.”
Kolanth nodded. “And find new ways of picking pockets. I wonder... would spells like those that caught me affect a Sentry?”
Everyone looked at Pidge. “Probably not,” she replied. “They've got nothing that's vulnerable to poison, but the compulsion... I might be able to harden a Sentry against that kind of thing. Want me to steal a few and find out?”
Kolanth gave her a surprisingly sweet smile. “If you would, please. If you are successful, my Lady, and can give us a squad or two of those, you will have us all singing your praises.”
Zaianne tapped him on the head with a finger. “Prettily put, Kolanth. Entertaining hopes, are you?”
Kolanth burst out into rough laughter. “Zaianne, fully half of the Order is in awe of that little girl, and the other half is terrified of her. She helped to save my life. How can I not dream a little? I can only hope that the rest of her kind can live up to the standards that she is setting!”
Pidge had gone very red. Lance grinned at her. “Congratulations, Pidge, you've discovered a source of boyfriends for the nerdy girls. I hope they like purple fur! Which one are you going to try?”
Pidge had also developed a very respectable right hook and demonstrated by aiming one at Lance's navel.
Kolanth smiled to see Lance collapse wheezing to the floor. “Very high standards.”
Haggar observed the terrified captain coldly for a long moment; not so long ago, his failure would have earned him a place on her list of Robeast candidates, but in this case it might be all to the better. She wasn't going to let him know that, however. “What is it, I wonder,” she murmured ominously, “about the Blades of Marmora, that a heavy cruiser with a seasoned crew and no less than two Ghamparva cannot capture a single wounded individual in a damaged ship?”
“Their ships are extremely fast and maneuverable, even when damaged,” the trembling captain said, “and they themselves are incredibly skilled and durable. The Ghamparva captain explained this to me with great thoroughness. They are the ones, after all, who are specifically trained to deal with those traitors. Neither of us were expecting to have to deal with Voltron. Lady Haggar, I was not aware that the two had joined forces. Even a heavy cruiser has little chance of dealing with that monster alone!”
“You were not alone,” Haggar pointed out.
The captain gulped audibly. “The two Ghamparva were driven off by a pair of support ships, and then destroyed by the Lions. I could not come to their aid because my own ship was in three pieces by that time. Lady Haggar, I cannot do the impossible. We sent out a distress signal the moment that the Lions appeared, but by that time it was already too late. Where are the Ghamparva, anyway? I know they survived.”
“I have already met with them,” Haggar said with a smile that made the captain cringe. “You are correct in that dealing swiftly and surely with the Blades is their responsibility, as is answering for any failures in that duty. They have done so. You are also correct in that I cannot ask the impossible from a mere ship's captain; therefore you will keep your command and your rank, and you will be given a new ship and orders to stand by until I am ready to make use of them. The Blade stole something from me that will lead him and his allies to their doom in short order, and you will take part in that reckoning. Now go, and be ready for my summons.”
For a moment, she thought the man would faint from sheer relief. He turned his sway into a bow, muttered his thanks, and left as quickly as he could. Haggar watched him go in silence, and then made her way to the healing chamber. She still had other supplicants to see in the Emperor's place, but they could wait. Indeed, it would do them good to let them sweat a little longer, and the more their fear ruled them, the easier it would be to keep them under control. Fear certainly kept everyone out of the Emperor's presence, at least. She had set three Druids to watch over him at all times of late, and very few assassins were willing to challenge those. Her new ones were a fine batch, strong and obedient to her will. They stood like masked shadows around the slab, still and silent, and she could sense their cold vigilance. Also still and silent was Zarkon himself, breathing steadily, if slowly. “Has there been any change?” she asked.
“None,” a Druid rasped. “The Emperor rests.”
And so he did. He had, in fact, been resting for far too long. His physical wounds had long since healed; the mental exhaustion should have worn off by now, considering how much sleep he had gotten and Quintessence he had absorbed. She suspected that something was keeping him asleep, although how, she was not sure. The systems supplying nutrients and water to his body were secure, as were the ones keeping him clean. The ventilation systems were also under her eye, and the Druids did not permit anyone or anything other than her into this chamber. This was no artifice of that rogue witch either, nor was it of the green Paladin's. It had taken some considerable effort to keep that bizarre computer virus from infecting this particular section of the station, but she'd managed it, and had gotten a good feel for the creature that had spread it around. An aetheric virus, as a matter of fact. The green Paladin was a Technomancer, a very rare and dangerous talent, and one that would have to be dealt with. Well, there were ways.
She touched her lord's face lightly, her fingers tracing the harsh planes of his cheekbones, trying to sense whatever was holding him captive within himself. Six Paladins, he had said, but there were only five. And yet...
Haggar frowned at the dim air. The black Lion had become inactive after Zarkon's wounding, and had had to be carried away by its fellow Lions. It was possible that its pilot had been injured or killed, although the Lion itself had shown no damage in the videos that she had studied. Zarkon had felt, through his fading bond with the Lion, the current Paladin; could he have sensed another? This argued that the first was still alive and the second was standing in, although that was unlikely; full Paladins did not share their Lions willingly with others unless they were physically incapable of dragging themselves into the cockpit. Back in the old days, when he had led the team, Zarkon had not liked having to permit the cadets anywhere near his Lion at all, and had chafed bitterly at the regulations that forced him to do so. His predecessor had been no different, and that Paladin's predecessor had died in the cockpit rather than give up his seat to another. Who was flying the black Lion now?
Haggar vented a frustrated tchuh. She hadn't the time right now to get to the bottom of this. Zarkon was alive and on the mend, the scans indicated normal brain and organ function, and he could be allowed to sleep for the moment. Right now, there were more pressing matters to worry about. The stolen fort with its stockpile of Quintessence continued to elude all search efforts, including her own attempts to scry for it; all she had gained from an exhaustive session had been a whiff of dry grass. A second key had been stolen, an event that could, with careful management, be turned to her advantage. That particular key opened another orbital fort, albeit one that was a great deal newer, larger, and better-maintained than Auzorel had been, with a highly-trained staff and a sane commander.
Haggar humphed thoughtfully and headed back to her lab. She had personally questioned Auzorel Fort's surviving officers, and they had all concurred on one thing when they hadn't been heaping blame on Varkos's head; the Fort's AI had stopped listening to them, and had powered down all defenses while Voltron had smashed the defense fleet. Inwardly, she disparaged the Paladins' foolish mercy, allowing the majority of their enemies to escape, although that hardly mattered. The greatest threat that team posed was not Voltron itself, although that thing came close; it was the Green Paladin. Nearly half of the Empire's fighting forces were comprised of drones, Sentries, and artificial intelligences. One single half-trained Technomancer, Lion-boosted though it was, had severely disrupted Parzurak itself; if that vile creature made any more breakthroughs, it was entirely possible that those machine forces might no longer be usable. Therefore, the Paladin would have to be killed or subverted.
Personally, Haggar would prefer to subvert it. She had taken a Technomancer as a Druid once, and it had served her extremely well for two decades before it had died; simply killing it would be a waste, but it would cripple Voltron, and that was also a worthwhile effort. She turned into one of the smaller workrooms, where her current project was held in a large clamp; it buzzed spitefully at her and glared with its single blue optic as she approached, its antigravs humming in a futile effort to break free. She noted that the containment measures that she'd put around it had worked this time; the small devices placed outside the shielding had not been subverted. Haggar smiled grimly at the corrupted security drone. “Now then,” she murmured, raising a hand, “let us see exactly what that little wretch did to turn you against your rightful masters.”
An hour and a half later, she had her answers. If she acted now, she could have everything ready by the time that the Lions decided to strike. It would mean that she would have to give the three Druids in the Emperor's chamber some extra instructions, and would require her absence from Parzurak for some time, but that merely gave her more opportunities to test the loyalty of the Admiralty and the Generals. She would need other help besides them, but such aid was easily obtained. Mind humming with plans, she headed back to the throne room and summoned a secretary. “Contact Prince Lotor,” she commanded, “I have work for him.”
“You don't aim low, do you?” Lance asked Kolanth.
The Blade shrugged. “It was the only key in the safe. They can't all be as easy as that first one, more's the pity.”
Lizenne had managed to identify the stockpile that the key belonged to, and it was a doozy. Shomakti Station was one of the newer, really top-secret ones, and it had been hidden inside a very large, very thick asteroid belt in the Basimere System. Basimere, or so Coran had told them, had once been a pleasant place with two paradisaical planets and several habitable moons. Unfortunately, Kolanth added, the Basimerans had been dead set against having the Galra Empire stomping in and taking over, and now there were no planets or moons. Only a very large debris ring remained to orbit the sun, making it a terribly tragic and lonely place. Possibly a haunted one, too—the Basimerans had leveled a dire curse upon their ruined home system before going extinct, and there were some very ugly rumors circulating about the place. Sensible ship's captains avoided the Basimere System like the plague, which made it an excellent place to hide a Quintessence stockpile.
Zaianne, predictably, didn't like it. “The Castle and the Chimera will be of little use there,” she said, pulling up images of the area. “The asteroid field is so wide and so dense that the two support ships will not be able to maneuver without risking severe damage. The Lions will have little trouble, but we will not be able to help, not without blasting a path, and we cannot do that and fight effectively at the same time. The ships' particle barriers are good, but not that good, and attempting to force it will just crack our crystals.”
“Voltron should be able to handle it,” Lance said confidently, leaning back in his seat. “What're their defenses like?”
“Formidable,” Kolanth said grimly. “The Station itself is very well armed, with six ion cannons, numerous pulse cannons, a full division of drone fighters, and a fine selection of missiles and bombs. They also utilize the surrounding metallic asteroids as a part of their defensive system by fitting them with thrusters and aiming them at attackers. There is a sizable defense fleet as well.”
“No large ships?” Keith asked.
“No. As Zaianne has pointed out, large craft are at a great disadvantage in that terrain.” Kolanth rubbed absently at his shoulder again. “It would take an entire fleet of destroyers to blast enough clear space in that mess to fight in, and in the process of doing that, any smaller craft would probably wind up being blown to atoms. Speed is our friend in this. If Pidge can take the the Station's AI and if Voltron can move fast enough, we may well be able to do it. Unfortunately, Shomakti is not a mobile fort, and I do not know if it can be converted into one. It will also be fully manned, and unlike Auzorel's previous inhabitants, those serving there know exactly what is in the vaults.”
Pidge scratched at her nose. “Do they have Sentries?”
“And drones, yes. Those are standard,” Kolanth replied. “Auzorel did not because Commander Varkos didn't like them.”
Pidge nodded. “Once I take control of those, we shouldn't have any trouble. All I'll really have to do is section off the areas we want and slam the doors on the rest. The Olkaris gave us some of those molecular saws, so even if the Quintessence jars are locked into the same sort of racks, we should be able to get them out of there without too much difficulty.”
Zaianne frowned at her complacent tone. “Assuming that Haggar has not come up with a way to block you. Quintessence is the source of her power, both magical and political, and she has faced Technomages before. There is a reason why they are rare.”
Allura nodded. “She will act to protect her power base. How has she dealt with technomages in the past?”
“She's a cyberneticist, among other things,” Kolanth supplied, “and has a deep understanding of both organic and mechanical systems. That 'trojan horse' that Pidge is so good at dispelling is her work. I believe that she came up with that thing after facing the last one she fought, about ninety years ago. It's possible that she might develop another, or a stronger variant of the first.”
Pidge smiled. “I can handle it. I used to hunt down phishers and scammers all the time, and scramble their server farms. Some of them were pretty tough, but I always punched through.”
“We can always bail if things go south,” Hunk said, his expression worried. “I don't like this target, guys. We got lucky the last couple of times, but this one's a little too big for my taste, and the enemy already knows what we're up to. Sorry, Kolanth, I know you nearly died to get that key to us, but I really don't like this.”
Kolanth waved a reassuring hand. “I don't either, to tell you the truth. You don't have enough allies to be certain of a victory here, and there are other stockpiles out there. Nothing says that you have to attempt this particular Station immediately.”
Keith shook his head. “If we don't move on it now, that just gives Haggar time to beef up the defenses even more. Hunk's right too—we can leave if things go bad and come back later. Anything to add, Modhri? Lizenne?”
“Nothing immediately helpful,” Modhri said. “I've never even heard of the place, but it seems that caution will serve us best in this case.”
Lizenne shrugged. “I can't contribute much, other than that same warning and one of my own. Pidge, Haggar knows of you now, and she will seek to neutralize you, one way or the other. If you are killed or worse, taken and turned into a Druid, we're all in serious trouble.”
“I think we can do it,” Lance said with a grin. “If we can crash Parzurak twice and put a hole in Zarkon—which we did—we should be able to pull this one off. How 'bout it, Princess?”
Allura weighed her options. “It's worth a try.”
Dense was not the proper description for the area around Shomakti Station. Packed might have been better, or perhaps stuffed. There was a lightsecond or two of clear space around the station itself, but beyond that it was nearly solid nickel-iron asteroids. There was one broad avenue through the crush that led straight to the station's dock, but the swarm of small fighter craft patrolling this route and the huge guns of the Station itself did not make trying this approach look like a good idea. This not only forced the support ships to park a long way out, but it made communications difficult. So much metal in such a confined space made the signals bounce and scatter randomly, and the scanner systems were badly confused as well. “Can't hear anything in there, and can't see anything either,” Coran grouched, trying to wrest some sense out of the hash that his instruments were giving him. “Worse than the Shells of Cantus, even! Modhri, are you having any better luck?”
“No,” Modhri answered grimly from the Chimera. “Someone really put a lot of thought into this. I can't even come any closer without overloading the shields. This is Lion's work.”
“Then let's get to work,” Keith said. “Be ready to form Voltron on my mark. Pidge, are you ready?”
“Ready and waiting,” Pidge said. “Let's go!”
The Lions launched without further delay and began weaving through the tight maze of asteroids with care and precision. Pidge angled her Lion around beneath the Station, looking for a clear spot near one of the sensor clusters and engaging the cloaking device when she came within operating range. She found a cluster easily enough, a slightly raised portion in the armor plate studded with small dark rounds that looked a little like buttons, but the moment her Lion touched the side of the Station she felt that something was wrong. The purple taint that infested all Galra devices was very present, but... it smelled different. There was a strong smell of road slush in the usual stink, and a slick gray tone in the color of it that she hadn't seen before. There was a sound, too, a sort of faint, jittering hum that made her teeth buzz, and when she tried to clear the taint off, it wouldn't budge. She tried again, drawing on the Lion's core for strength, only to fail a second time. Pidge ground her teeth in frustration, her backbrain spinning furiously as she tried to find a way in. The new code was like a sheer wall, smooth as ice and impervious; she'd never seen anything quite like this before. Worse, the hum was horribly distracting. If she could just get the miserable thing to shut up...
There was a warning beep from the console. She had ten seconds left on her cloaking system. Pidge took a deep breath and focused her mind for one more try, then jerked back with a cry of alarm when the aetheric shield opened an enormous glowing violet eye and looked right at her. Alarms screamed and the Lion leaped away, but it was already too late.
“Pidge, what happened?” Hunk called through the helmet 'link. “The whole fort just lit up!”
“I can't crack this one!” Pidge shouted over the radio noise, badly shaken by her failure. “It's got a new type of virus. Kolanth was right.”
“Yeah, well, get out of there and help us with these fighters,” Lance said, and Pidge heard the distant roaring of his guns, “Maybe you can—holy crow on a stick!”
The asteroid field was on fire. Explosions, thousands of them, rocked the void with shockwaves as the fleet of destroyers hidden within it opened fire, blasting the space junk into lethal shrapnel. This bombardment bounced harmlessly off of the fort's shields, but the Lions had no such protection and were tossed about and battered mercilessly. No sooner than had the worst of the debris cleared, the hidden ships opened fire.
“Paladins!” Coran shouted somewhat indistinctly through the static. “...Ambush!... Large battleflee... flagship... same one... last time... hundreds! ...ust form Voltr...”
“Pidge, we need you!” Keith shouted, “We've got to form Voltron, now!”
Pidge didn't answer; the green Lion was struggling to get out of a sleeting mass of jagged, red-hot debris, and soon had her hands full with other problems. Fighters as well as incoming fire were pouring out of the battlefleet above, and the fort itself had brought its guns online. Pidge was forced into sudden, gut-wrenching maneuvers to avoid them, and they were herding her away from the others. She managed to break through somehow, but a lance of hot ions from one of the destroyers nearly fried her. “Guys, help!” she called frantically.
“Form Voltron!” Allura cried desperately.
“We can't!” Hunk called back as the yellow Lion was mobbed from all sides. “There's no room, and Pidge is still stuck all the way over there!”
“I'm on it!” Lance called out, hurling his Lion daringly through another swarm of drone fighters, drawing them off and heading directly toward the green Lion. He flashed by right behind Pidge's tail, forcing his entourage to wreck themselves by smashing into the ones that were after her. “Come on, Pidge, can't you do something about these things?”
“No!” Pidge said, half choking on the cold, bitter reek of the fighters. “I can't get in! We're going to have to combine and do this the hard way.”
“Forget Voltron!” Lizenne's voice crackled across the comms. “Get out of there, now! Haggar's on the flagship, and she's gearing up to—oh, tajvek, Zaianne, they've spotted us!”
“Retreat!” Keith shouted. “Get back to the Castle! Run!”
The Lions fled, dodging wildly to avoid enemy fire and not having much luck. The entire area had been englobed by the huge fleet and the tiny area of clear space was full of fighters and ion blasts. The asteroid field had been stirred up badly as well, and any attempt to go through it would smash the Lions to pieces. As it was, they were taking more hits than they could comfortably absorb. The only way out was the avenue that they had avoided earlier, and it was crammed with the enemy. Out beyond it, barely visible, were the two bright glints of their support ships, shields up and blasting furiously at their own share of the fleet. “I'm opening a portal,” Zaianne called out. “We can't stay here any longer. Come!”
“All together, guys,” Keith said tensely, “blast and keep blasting! We have to punch through!”
As one, the Lions opened fire, drilling a hole in the enemy forces. As they did so, the vast dark shape of the flagship sprang forward in pursuit, its bow beginning to crackle with energies other than its ion lance.
The Lions broke through with breathless cries of relief, the black Lion surging ahead, the others trailing behind as they raced toward the watery blue circle of the wormhole.
“Hurry!” Modhri cried. “Look out behind you!”
The flagship let fly with a bolt of harsh, purple-edged dark energy that screamed out through space like a thunderbolt from the hand of an angry god, and it slammed directly into the green Lion. Pidge shrieked, her brain on fire, and her Lion screamed along with her; she felt as though huge clawed hands had sunk into her heart and mind and were slowly tearing them to pieces. Lance heard her cry ringing in his ears and saw the green Lion falter, and cried out in terror as he felt her portion of the Lion-bond start to unravel.
“Pidge!” he screamed, panicking; he didn't know what to do, there was no way to block the thick serpents of amaranth-black light that were crawling over the green Lion's plating. Instinctively, he reached out to her through their overstrained bond and felt—as surely as if he'd laid his own bare hands upon it—the net of foul energies that had been flung over her. Revolted, he laid hold of that ghastly construction. Without knowing how he did it, without ever knowing how he did it, he pulled with all of his strength...
The hex stretched like an orb-spider's web across an unwary face, and then abruptly tore loose from its half-set moorings to rebound onto the other Lions. It splashed chaotically into the blue Lion, arced over to the yellow and then the red, impacted upon the black Lion in a flare of purple-rose light, and then up to the Chimera where it stopped in a burst of gold. Lance howled in agony, as did the other Paladins, and an answering cry came from Lizenne. Somehow, the first four Lions managed to remain on course, but having taken a direct hit, the green one tumbled away through the wall of the wormhole and was gone. They spilled out into normal space a few minutes later, the sounds of four people being foully ill crowding the comms.
“Modhri? Modhri! What just happened?” Coran demanded over Zaianne's cursing. “Paladins, are you all right?”
Modhri replied, his voice breathless and shaking. “Haggar cast a spell at us. A big one. Don't know what kind. Rang my head like a bell, and Lizenne's... oh, gods, Lizenne's unconscious, and she's hurt.”
Hunk groaned wretchedly. “Haven't been this sick since we left Earth, and my head's splitting. Guys?”
“I'm still alive, although I'm glowing again,” Allura said shakily, “and I feel like someone has driven a spike into my skull and filled my bones with acid. Keith? Lance?”
Nothing but moans were coming from Lance's channel, and Keith wasn't much better. “Not feeling real good here,” Keith rasped, “and Lance sounds worse. Pidge? Pidge? Oh, no, Coran, can you find Pidge?”
“No,” Coran replied after a moment. “No, I can't.”
Lance coughed harshly. “She was right behind me. Caught the worst of it. I tried to stop it. Didn't work. She fell out through the side of the wormhole. I couldn't... couldn't help her. Guys, I really couldn't. Oh, quiznek, my head!”
“Bring the Lions in,” Zaianne commanded. “We must tend to your hurts before we can start searching. Can you tell if she is still alive?”
There was a pause, and Allura spoke up, sounding very unhappy. “I'm not sure. I can feel something, but it's far away. So very far away, and I hurt too much to see clearly.”