Chapter Text
Sura was, uh, it was definitely a prison colony.
Lance was sure he’d almost nicked with a blade here and there but Keith was guarding him like a dog. It was smart on Allura’s part to separate the team this way. Pidge was smart on intel and Hunk can go on the defensive. Lance was a long-range fighter and he needed a close-range fighter to go along just in case things went south.
Lance couldn't stop the feeling of unease, they landed here on a pod, the lions would attract attention and they’ve hidden their armors in Keith’s bag. After Hunk freaked out about being armorless in Galran colonies, Allura conceded that they could bring it with them, they just needed to carry them. Which is why Keith is wearing a stupidly huge backpack and Lance is almost impressed that he hadn't struggled so far.
Galran sentries and foot-soldiers litter the streets, criminals and pirates squatting in the dusty buildings. The ground was as dry as the desert. Maybe, Keith’s feeling nostalgic.
“I’m not.” Mullet snapped, huh, he must’ve said that out loud.
“Yeah, you did and I think you should be quiet.” Keith growled. He was as prickly as ever, hardly talkative or any fun. Man, why couldn't Hunk be a close-range fighter? Lance missed him already.
Keith snarled as if sensing his thoughts.
“Not that I appreciate you and that nasty greasy mullet you have, but you’re really boring!” Lance complained.
“We’re not supposed to have fun here! We’re here to find out who this ‘Champion’ is, not gossip about…whatever it is you gossip about.” Keith scoffed, crossing his arms.
Lance gasped, affronted.
“I don’t gossip! I’m just telling you the scoop! The tea! Don’t tell me you never think about professor Montgomery having favorites!” Lance provide alot of important info, thank you very much. Like which Senior got beef with who. And which TA the cadets wanted to prank next week.
“I don’t care about the Garrison, I don’t care about you and Allura being ‘in love’ either.” Keith emphasized his air-quotes. Okay, rude!
“But, she’s totally into me!” Lance shot back.
“Yeah, and my name is Dolly Parton.” Keith rolled his eyes.
“Hey! Bet you're just jealous cuz that greasy mullet of yours made the ladies avoid you like the plague!” Lance quipped, proud of himself for that one.
“I don’t care about girls…like that.” Keith grumbled, tearing his gaze away from Lance.
Huh? Oh, OH!
“Uh…okay then, the guys avoid you like the plague!” Smooth, McClain. Lance groaned internally, how was he supposed to handle that!? You don't just… come out to a guy mid-banter!
Keith chuckled and Lance whipped his head at him, absolutely shocked.
“What?” Keith asked, raising a brow.
“You just laughed!” Lance gasped, pointing at the red paladin.
Keith grumbled and lightly shoved him. “you’re so stupid”
“Hey! At least I’m not a dumb as you!” Lance shoved back.
Keith rolled his eyed and turned away but Lance could see him sporting a grin.
“Back at the Garrison, I was― still is the Rubics cube legend, I broke all sorts of records. Oh, man! If only we have one, I would totally beat you, Mullet.” Lance piped up after a long companionable silence.
“At Rubics cube? Now, you’re just pushing it.” Keith huffed.
“Am not! It’s true! What, scared you'll lose to me?”
“No, it just sounds dumb. I don’t even know how that things works, isn't it just like a fidgeting thing?”
“No, its a memory and puzzle thing” Lance huffed, of course Mr. Desert-shack-dweller doesnt know what a Rubics cube is.
“okay, and you’re saying you’re good at it?” Keith teased, a smug smile worming its way to his face.
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Lance gawked.
When they reach the stadium, they paid the GAC needed to get two tickets at the front-row(Thank you, Allura!), Keith surveyed the crowd, different aliens, all of them. Even the patrons didn’t look Galra. Lance swallowed, what does this mean? What if the aliens they helped in the past also had sick hobbies like watching gladiator rings? And paying to keep it going.
Lance was particularly shocked to see a Golnaian patron up in those fancy vieving boxes. They helped the Golnaians before, what does this mean? Do they condone this? Or is this guy just a massive rich douche?
The Golnaians kind of freaked him out at first with their mostly boneless bodies and multiple limbs but oddly enough they only sported one eye, much like a fucked up cyclops. But they were soft-spoken and kind. Lance would never imagine one of them supporting this kind of arena.
Lance took his seat, triple checking the number on his ticket. Keith didnt even bother and just sat wherever on the front row, causing a little commotion when it turned out to be someone else’s seat. Lance mediated before things went to hell and miraculously they didnt get kicked out.
“Keith! You better take a whole bottle of chill pills here! We’re not here to fight, we’re here to find out some info.” Lance hissed, grabbing Keith’s surprisingly muscled arm. Keith relented and let Lance do his magic and find their seat in this sweatfest stadium.
The arena was dimly lit, the purple lights making it look much more ominous.
At first it was kind of cool, three buff guys fighting a giant dog-like beast. Then it got sad when a scared young-looking alien was forced to fight another scared young-looking alien. Lance sneaked a glance at Keith and he knew the hothead wanted to jump in there and stop it. He probably wanted to tear this place down with guns blazing. But they couldn't do that, it would jeopardize the mission.
Lance held Keith’s hand. Calm down, dropout.
Keith released a huge breath and leaned back on the chair, crossing his arms.
“Do you think the Champion marathon thing is still on?” Lance asked in a whisper, Keith shrugged in response.
The arena was bloody and Lance almost gagged when gut came flying out all over and splashing the crowd with. Lance knew that most of the known universe think Earth is a backwater planet with a primitive species at the helm but at least they outlawed gladiator rings like a gabijillion years ago.
Keith was mostly unfazed, furrowed brows deep in concentration. Lance could see him taping his feet in nervous anticipation.
The Champion never came out.
Instead, a small scared alien child went in to the arena, shaking scared, eyes filled with tears. The kid looked like a young teenager, about Pidge’s size. The looked humanoid except with the pale blue skin, four eyes and no ears thing. Lance’s heart clenched thinking about his niece and nephew. Scared, shaking, crawling away until their back was against the cold damn wall.
And standing across them a cruel a ten feet tall beast.
Lance resigned himself to this fate, a failed scouting. They gave it the old college try, now it's time to skedaddle! Time to take a hike, ready for lift-off! Lance did NOT want to see a kid be turned into dog food. Lance started getting up and getting ready to leave and he saw at the corner of his eye that Keith was doing the same thing. Then Keith started opening the backpack.
Lance didnt think much of it but in hindsight, he should’ve. Probably.
Of course, Keith didn't make it easy for either of them. Of course not.
Keith, no!! Argh, WHY!?
Keith donned his armor and flew into the arena with his jetpack, Lance cursed like a million times already he was running out of expletives at this point.
Keith pulled out his bayard. His helmet was concealing his face at least, maybe he wasn't completely reckless.
Keith was quick to challenge the beast, roaring as his bayard morphed into a mighty red sword. It was like watching a deadly dance, Keith using his jetpack and sharp weapon to cut the beast’s sides. The monster had arms bigger than Lance’s whole torso, it had fangs the size of his face too! Lance prayed to all the deities he knows that Keith would make it out alive.
Lance cursed and whined as he struggled to get his armor on too, Lance flew in, almost crashing into Keith. Lance was quick and spritely, and― Gotcha!
The child was startled when Lance held them in his arms, although he wasn't all that strong, his long limbs made it easier for him to cover the kid. Lance looked behind him as debris flew all over, he could see Keith struggling. Oh, quiznak! Lance flew as far away from the arena as possible. After making sure the kid was safe and (mostly) unharmed. Lance sat back, preparing his shoulders, stilling his breath, blocking out the noise all around him.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
BANG!
The beast roared in agony as the laser burned his back, dropping to his knees, Keith took this opportunity to ram his sword straight to the creature’s heart. When the beast finally stilled, cold as death. Keith pulled it out and didn't even bother to wipe the blood staining his armor.
“Voltron is back, and if you think we’re going to let the Gladiator rings to continue, then, you’re dead wrong.” Keith’s voice boomed even without a microphone.
Lance sighed in relief, knees shaking as he stood up. Lance’s eyes landed on the camera above the arena.
Keith was being broadcasted.
Huh, Lance actually hadn't thought of that, what was he trying to do now? Garner public support for the abolition of the gladiator rings?
Then the worse thing happened, things got awkwardly silent. It was Lance’s turn to fix this clusterfuck show somehow.
“Yeah, We’re the paladins of Voltron and we’re…going to show you what happens if you don’t abolish these crazy shows! Galra or not, this whole thing is insanely evil! So, uh, yeah!” Lance raised his fist into the air, that didn't earn them any fans, no one cheered.
Lance slowly turned to Keith as if to say What now, Mullet-brain?
With Keith’s endless fury, the Red lion crashed into the stadium, breaking the roof apart, sending crowd into a panicked frenzy. Hoo, boy.
Keith waited until everyone was gone and set the stadium ablazed. Before the Galra could even react. Keith, him and the Red lion flew into space at lightning speed, disappearing quickly into a wormhole back to the castleship.
Allura is so going to kill them.
—-
Vertigo.
He can’t really focus, the medics patched him up crudely. A giant bite mark on the side of his torso was bandaged up and give some ethanol to clear out any saliva or grime.
And they expected him to fight again so soon? They expected him to do a marathon, non-stop fighting. He was going to be sick, he swallowed the nasty bile on the edge of his throat and forced it back down, he barely ate already, he couldn't afford to lose his lunch.
His arms were shaking, his prosthetic glowing dangerously. He knew he was dangerous. His mind was suppressing most of it, but if he focused hard enough he could hear the screams (as his arm goes straight to the throat) he could feel how wet (blood is)
He couldn't break down now. They took everything from him, made him into a killer. He had no doubt he killed some guards the first time they installed this weapon to where his arm should be. Should he feel sorry? (they ignored his pleas, his screams that lasted for hours)
Clenching his jaw tight, the coil in his gut was driving him mad.
The child was next and he thrashed and screamed, begging the guards to let him fight the beast instead. (they ignored him)
His breath was ragged. He was going insane (they put a muzzle on him) his eyes darted all over the room. They cuffed him and sent him walking down the corridor. He can't bear to see that child’s corpse. (it should've been him)
“That kid won’t last ten doboshes!” one of the guards sneered and the rest laughed.
Then, an odd sight greeted him.
When they reached the arena, the kid was hiding behind the pillar, cowering. Oh, thank God.
The guards stepped back, they knew they weren't allowed in the ring, too dangerous for personnel.
But, he was free to enter it and when he did, he finally saw what’s going on.
A red space…ranger? Stabbed the mighty beast, the blue one slowly made his way to the red one. Face obscured, white and metallic. An insignia gleamed in the light. A sharp and elegant ‘V’ strewn across their chest.
They called themselves paladins of Vol…tron? And they promised to abolish the cruelty of gladiator rings. Promised to free the known universe from the Galra. The speech was awkward and short. The red one especially sounded a little familiar.
When the ceiling got torn into shreds, he didn't stay to see whatever's happening. The guards were quick to evacuate him along with the other prized fighters. When he looked back all he saw a fiery, righteous blaze.
He didn't know why… but his chest felt lighter, his shoulders relaxed.
A ray of hope to shine on his darkest days.