Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lance had tried to bond with the black lion. He wanted nothing more than the most powerful of the lions to accept him, but it just didn't want him; it wanted Keith, but Keith didn't want the black lion. Keith's only concern was getting Shiro back. 

Lance wanted their leader back just as much as any of the others, but the temptation was almost too great to dismiss. Lance craved the black lion; he desired the promise of respect, of validation, something only the black lion could provide. 

However, when all was said and done, perhaps he would have been fine staying with good 'ole Blue. But he was denied both. Instead, he got Red: Keith's lion.

Don't get him wrong. Red was nothing to sneeze at. As one of the fastest and most powerful of all the lions, it was perhaps even a step up from blue, but Lance couldn't help noticing that feeling. The feeling that he should be grateful; he was being handed new opportunities, moving on to bigger and better things. But behind that twisted sense of pride was the knowledge that every time it happened, he was only a placeholder, moving up to fill a spot where someone more impressive than him had left it empty. 

It was the same feeling that he had felt when he had become a fighter pilot at the expense of Keith, who had flunked out. 

Apparently it wouldn't be the last time. 

Any other person would probably have grown to hate that person; the person that manages to stay ahead of you at every turn, leaving you in their tracks to pick up the broken scraps of legacy that they left behind. Knowing that, however hard you try, you'll always be second to someone. 

You'd think that Lance would have grown to hate Keith, but he didn't.

If anything, Lance had slowly began to appreciate Keith, but not as a friend; it was something stronger. 

It was rare that Keith even talked to Lance, unless it was to discuss battle plans or to practice combat. Lance had no reason to believe that Keith would ever feel the same way that Lance felt.

Lance had realized a long time ago that he felt a different way about Keith. He knew it once he saw the look on Keith's face when Shiro disappeared, and he never wanted him to feel like that again. 

It was a different kind of love, but not the beautiful lovey-dovey love that grows over time between two people that care deeply about one another.

It was an one-sided, as far as Lance knew, and an obsessive, unhealthy kind of love.

But Lance rarely thought about this. There was bigger fish to fry. 

Lotor and his generals were a force to be reckoned with; not only did they manage to undo Voltron's work on almost every liberated planet, but they still managed to come after the paladins in ways that they never anticipated. It was terrifying, but defenders of the universe had no time to be afraid. 

Even though there was danger and the face of death around every corner, it was simple. That was, until everything changed. 

Until Lance had heard Keith's hoarse, quiet voice come through his helmet, barely audible. 

"We found him."

Shiro was back; a wreck at first, remembering almost nothing from his time in the clutches of the Galra, nor from his escape. 

The Shiro that appeared on the bridge seemed to be a new man, although at first Lance had some questions about his choice in style, he let it go. 

Keith was happy, and if Keith was happy, Lance was happy too. Just seeing Keith's expression when they pulled Shiro's pod into the launch bay, Lance practically lit up as soon as he saw Shiro's face. 

He had volunteered to help Keith bring Shiro to the nearest healing pod. They hadn't spoken a word on the walk down. 

But now Lance found himself in a bit of a predicament; with Shiro back, Lance was sure that he would take back his rightful place in the black lion. 

Then, Keith would return to Red.

Lance had held his place, and now it was time to give it up. Next, he would go where he was needed. 

Except, this time, he wasn't sure that he was needed. 

Allura was a fantastic pilot. Over the course of one battle, she had managed to unlock two of the blue lion's abilities, both of which had taken Lance months and dozens of battles to utilize. 

Lance was a pilot. He wasn't an engineer, like Hunk or Coran, or a computer genius, like Pidge. He wasn't a combat expert like Keith or Shiro. 

If the others decided to permanently assign Allura to the blue lion...

He would be a pilot with nothing to pilot; like a bird without wings. 

Not yet, you're not, he kept telling himself. 

He hated waiting. He needed an answer; an honest answer. 

There was only one person on this ship who would give one to him. 

Chapter Text

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Yeah?"

The door slid open. Lance's breath hitched when he saw Keith standing there, watching him. The new black paladin had shed his red jacket, clad in only a fitted black t-shirt.

He must have been training , Lance thought absentmindedly. His long hair was disheveled and messy in most places; his jet black bangs fell over his pale skin and indigo eyes. They were a constant reminder of his Galra heritage, but Lance couldn’t help but think that were beautiful.

Seeing Keith like this was definitely enough to give Lance thoughts that were definitely not absentminded.

But Keith just stood there, arms crossed, but his expectant gaze was enough to bring Lance back to a less NSFW reality.

Putting one foot in front of the other was almost difficult for Lance, and maintaining a neutral expression was even more so.

Keith dropped his arms to his side, standing a couple feet from his bed. Lance approached him slowly, but was sure to keep his distance.

"H-hey man," Lance began carefully, trying to muster up a bit of confidence, "I just wanted to talk with you because..."

He trailed off. How could he start.

I don't know where I belong. I don't know if I belong. I want to belong. I want to belong with you . I'm always second to you . I hate you, and I think I love you.

"I-I'm worried," Lance's voice cracked, and he hated it, "And I needed to talk to someone. "

Keith looked over him dubiously, very confused but still curious.

"Why me?" He asked, crossing his arms; his voice was steady and low, very different from Lance's own.

"You're my-" Lance coughed, " Our leader now... right."

Keith averted his gaze for a moment, the grip that his arms had around his own chest tightening slightly. Lance cringed internally; it was obvious that Keith had heard those words enough.

"Shiro's back; he 's the leader," Keith replied, his tone growing a bitter edge.

"You're right," Lance admitted, desperate to say anything to keep Keith from looking at him like that, "You're right."

Then it came to Lance that Keith was right, and that was the reason he had come in the first place.

"N-now that Shiro's back," Lance began, "There's six paladins, and only five lions. That means-" he gulped, "There'll be one paladin without a lion."

“Solid math,” Keith’s tone was airy, obviously not aware of the heavy weight bearing down on Lance’s mind.

"Shiro will take back the black lion?" Lance questioned carefully, eyes darting around Keith's face, trying to discern any emotion that he could recognize.

Even though he already knew the answer, the simple motion that was Keith nodding was almost enough to stop Lance's heart.

What happens when you've spent your whole life as a placeholder, but suddenly you don't have a place at all?

"A-and you'll go back to Red."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "If she'll have me.”

What happens when that person that you've been chasing all your life returns, and wants their place back?

Lance ran a hand over his face with a silent sigh. "A-allura will keep the blue lion?" Lance said, volume barely above a whisper, and this time he wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement, "She's already proven herself more suited to pilot blue.”

'No,' he imagined Keith would say, 'Not a chance, Lance, you're much too important to ever replace. The team needs you, sharpshooter. I need you.'

"Most likely, yes."

But that answer came instead.

Lance was confused.

For years, he had been told that Keith was a level to be achieved, almost a legacy to live up to, so many times that he had come to believe it.

Lance's goal in the Garrison was to be like Keith. Over the past few months, it had changed only slightly; Lance's most recent goal was to be with Keith.

Keith... was Keith. Lance wasn't perfect, but Keith was.

"Most likely, yes."

Which is why Lance couldn't understand why Keith would say something like that.

"T-then what happens to me," Lance tried to keep his voice from wavering, and the hands behind his back slowly curled into fists.

Keith waited a moment, thinking. "I... don't know," he answered, and for the first time since Lance had arrived he seemed unsure of himself, "You could help Hunk and Coran?"

"I'm not an engineer."

"W-well maybe you could help Pidge with her Galra trackers or something!"

"I don't know anything about computers."

Keith's patience had been exhausted; he didn't like having conversations like this after a difficult training session.

"I don't care , Lance!" Keith huffed loudly, "It's not my fault your usefulness has run out!"

Lance's hand flew to his mouth with a sharp intake of breath.

"L-lance, I didn't mean-"

"I would never say that," Lance spoke quietly, voice barely above a breath, "I would have lied to your face if it would have made you feel any better!"

Lance realized that that was a contradiction in terms. He had come for an honest answer.

He had one. His usefulness has run out.

Keith furrowed his eyebrows and took a step back. "W-why? Why do you even care what I think?!" He exclaimed.

Lance brought his hands to the sides of his face, feeling as if he might scream.

"Because I..." he took a deep breath that seemed to shake when he exhaled.

"Y-you what?" Keith's had crossed his arms over his chest again, watching Lance expectantly with slightly widened eyes.

Lance couldn’t think straight. It was almost like he couldn’t breath . Keith and just confirmed his worst fears, but he thought that he could have taken the answer he was expecting much better.

“You’re usefulness has run out!”

This team doesn’t need you!

I don’t need you.

“I need you!” Lance cried suddenly, voicing his thoughts aloud, and, almost unbeknownst to himself, added, “I-I think I love you!”

Everything seemed to freeze, at least for Lance. He felt as though he was running a fever, yet he was cold. He was breathing, his inhales quick and his exhales shaky, yet it burned, as if he was breathing a thick smoke.

He didn’t realize anything, what he had thought nor what he had said, until a subtle burning sensation at the corners of his eyes caught his attention, and a moment later he felt himself blinking away tears.

Oh, no. Please, god, no .

Keith took a step back, away from Lance, and he dropped his arms to his sides in one swift movement.

“Lance,” Keith’s voice was steady, “Are you feeling okay? You’re talking nonsense.”

Lance could have died. He could have taken anger from Keith, maybe even yelling and accusal, but this was worse; this was dismissal.

“I’m fine!” Lance practically shouted, stunning Keith with his sudden volume.

He inhaled a shaky breath, pausing as his vision began to cloud, more tears forming in the corners of his eyes and threatening to fall.

“I-I’m not… I know what I’m saying!” Lance took a step closer to Keith, voice faltering slightly but speaking loudly all the same, desperate to prove to Keith that he meant every word.

Keith raised two hands up in an attempt to placate Lance’s distress. At the sudden movement Lance grabbed onto both of them, in what was almost a desperate attempt to hold on to Keith and never let him go.

The sudden contact startled Keith and he pulled them back harshly, inadvertently making Lance’s condition worse.

He had just confessed to being in love, but this was no fairytale; no storybook ending, where the clouds disappeared and the storm went away. Keith had just pushed Lance away, and it made Lance feel sick.

“L-Lance, I think you should leave,” Keith tried his best to keep his voice from shaking.

Lance sniffed and stared at Keith, expression some horrible mix of love, anger, and desperation. Keith didn’t love him; Lance was sure by now that he disgusted him.

Neither of them noticed their suddenly close proximity. “I should-” Lance’s voice cut out, fully understanding Keith’s words.

In the silence that followed, Keith watched a stray tear roll down Lance’s cheek, disappearing a second later under his chin. Lance didn’t seem to notice, but only took a slow step backwards, creating more space between the two of them.

“G-go,” Lance let out the word quietly, mixed in the heat of another shuddering breath, and slowly nodded, although the look in his eyes left no room for interpretation; Keith had handled this wrong, very wrong.

“Y-yeah, okay,” Lance nodded again, wiping the trace wetness from his eyes with the hem of his sleeve.

Lance went, practically ran , from Keith’s room, leaving the other boy in state of stunned silence.

Keith watched as the door to his room slid shut with a quiet hiss; unable to move or speak, he was left alone, unmoving in a trap of unbearable silence.

On the other side of that door, Lance let his back slam into the wall, letting himself slowly fall to the ground. He pulled his knees to his chest, afraid to release a breath lest he choke on it.

He buried his face in his hands, resigning himself to allow his body to rock with each sob that was forced from his mouth, the sound echoing down the empty corridor.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’re such an idiot.

What did he expect?

He tried his best not to think about it; he tried his best not to think at all.

It’s not my fault your usefulness has run out!

This team doesn’t need you.

I don’t need you.

You disgust me.

Lance had his two most terrifying fears confirmed by the one person he cared about most, and it was the worst feeling in the world.

Chapter Text

Keith and Lance didn't speak- didn't even dare exchange glances- until the next day.

The day where everything went wrong.

Hunk and Pidge were able to locate the comet.

Lance sat at his station on the bridge, silent, and watched as the location of the comet on the ship’s scans became nearer and nearer. He could hear the exchanging of words, maybe a status update from Hunk or a casual command from Shiro, but he wasn't truly paying attention. His eyes continued to wander to the head of black hair that he could see over the chair that just had to be placed in front of his own.

Lance knew that he was at fault. He should never have brought up his petty concerns about his usefulness when Keith obviously had more important things to worry about. And he definitely shouldn't have... should never have-

"-ong range sensors," Pidge finished her sentence, and Lance's attention was brought to the present and the view screen in front of him when the image changed.

It was a Galra base, no doubt about it, but as Pidge shifted the image again it showed a smaller vessel, docked at one of the landing platforms; it was a vessel unlike anything Lance had ever seen.

"That's not Lotor's ship," Keith exclaimed, obviously confused.

He stood up from his chair, and Lance reflexively stood as well. Perhaps hearing him, Keith began to turn around, but realized his mistake a moment later and spun back around before eye contact could be made. Lance frowned.

Hunk had said something, but Lance hadn't heard him. All he knew was that a second later Keith had turned to face the rest of the bridge, standing beside Shiro.

"Okay team, we need to get that-"

"Here's the plan-"

You could have heard a pin drop, but Keith had quickly given the spotlight back to Shiro.

While the rest of the paladins gave their undivided attention, Lance subconsciously shifted his gaze over to Keith, who had taken to looking at the floor.

His arms had again been crossed over his chest, and his head was tilted ever so slightly away from Shiro, and Lance as well.

Shiro was back, he was the leader; Keith had said it himself, rather bitterly in fact. Lance realized then that perhaps Keith hadn't seemed so cross about being addressed as the leader, but simply by the fact that he would no longer be the leader seeing as Shiro had returned. But that was a ridiculous theory, Lance thought, Keith had been so opposed to taking Shiro's place in the first place.

Perhaps he had been afraid, as Lance had been when he had been chosen by red, that this was only a temporary promotion; it wouldn't be long until that person, the more skilled, important person, would return and you would be asked to leave.

If Keith felt that way, why wouldn’t he admit it?

Well that was obvious, Lance thought with a pang in his chest, he hates you; he looked like he was gonna be sick when you admitted that- that....

Lance could barely even think it, let alone say it out loud ever again. He was sure that he had humiliated himself, but he managed to force those thoughts from his mind.

"Alright everyone," Shiro began strongly, capturing Lance's attention, "We all know the plan-"

Shit. I missed the plan. You’re such an idiot.

"-get to your lions."

While Hunk and Pidge raced up from their seats towards their lions bays, Lance froze.

He looked up and was relieved that Keith, Shiro, and Allura had done the same. The latter two of the three exchanged brief glances with Lance.

What felt like years but was probably only a second passed, and Keith spoke, lightly put his hand on Shiro's shoulder.

“You take the black lion, Shiro,” he said quietly, “I’ll stay up here with Coran and provide support.”

Shiro seemed surprised. “A-are you sure?”

"I’m sure.”

Lance’t heart dropped.

Keith could have easily assumed the black lion, but instead volunteered it to Shiro; it was almost as if he was the placeholder.

Lance loved him, he admitted it and he still believed it. But now, Lance was in Keith's spot, and he would be able to remain a little longer. In that moment, it was all that mattered.

After retreating to the Red lion, Lance landed in the chair of the cockpit, immediately feeling the animalistic humming that greeted him. It was similar to Blue but... not the same. Expectant and excited, rather than encouraging and relaxed.

Lance embraced it all the same, careful not to... offend the lion perhaps, even though he was sure that Red knew things about Lance that even Lance didn't know. He wasn't sure whether it should comfort him or only push him closer to the edge.

As the Red lion launched itself from the hangar at Lance’s command, Lance heard a voice through the com in his helmet.

“Keith, I’m gonna need you to lead this mission.”

Lance froze, letting momentum carry the Red lion forward.

“W-what’s wrong?” Keith answered immediately.

“The black lion isn’t responding to me. It looks like you’re its true paladin now.”

There was silence for a moment.

“I’m coming down.”

Once there was only silence in his helmet, Lance gingerly replaced his grip on the Red Lion’s controls, moving them forward ever so slowly.

Keith wasn’t a placeholder at all; he only replaced Shiro. Just like Allura replaced Lance.  

Lance knew he could never replace Keith.  

Only a few moments later, the black lion was launched from its hangar; Keith stayed silent.

By the time all five of the lions reached the atmosphere the base had been damaged immensely by the ship sitting just outside one of the entrances.

Who are they? Lance thought as he landed the red lion on the rocky surface of the moon, why would a Galra ship attack a Galra base?

The paladins launched their speeders from the lions, riding several kilometers to the base and the cruiser that was docked there.

They proceeded on foot, able to board the ship without issue or detection. There were no guards; there was no… anyone.

Keith updated Shiro and Coran on their status through the com in their helmets, and they proceeded with the search. After shorting out the lock on one of the entrance doors, Lance ran through and steadied his rifle on his shoulder, ready for hostile resistance, but there was none. He tensed his shoulders, but felt no more relaxed; there was someone on this ship. Somebody fired on the Galra base.

Hunk came through last, holding and carefully examining his tracker device. It beeped steadily as he held it in one direction of the forked corridor, and as he slowly shifted it to the hall it sped up immediately, increasing tempo until it was almost a constant tone.

“It’s this way,” Hunk announced, still watching the holographic screen, and so they proceeded in that direction, Lance still holding his bayard steadily on his shoulder.

He watched their backs as the others opened the doors to what looked as though it was a hangar at the end of the corridor, the pace of Hunk’s comet tracker continuing to increase pace.

Lance turned around once he was sure that the coast was clear, following his team into the bay.

There was a ship inside, and Lance immediately recognized it as Galra, but it was a configuration unlike anything Lance had so far seen. He lowered his weapon and went to stand behind Hunk and Allura.

“I-Is the comet in there?” Lance asked, furrowing his eyebrows at the vessel.

“I think the ship is the comet,” Hunk replied soon after, and everyone’s eyes widened collectively, realizing the gravity of the discovery.

Allura gasped. “It can’t be!”

“This is horrible,” Pidge noted.

“Guys!” Shiro’s voice went out over the com, and Pidge lifted her wrist, bringing up a holographic screen on which Shiro and Coran were displayed.

“There’s a piece of the teludav inside the Galra base,” Shiro explained.

Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “You mean th-”

“But they would never be able to operate it without an Altean-” Allura gasped, “Zarkon’s witch! She had Altean markings!”

“Lotor must be nearby,” Keith began, tightening his grip around the black and silver sword in his hand, “We need to find him and take him out for good!”

“Team, you cannot let Lotor get that ship,” Shiro declared, “You need to get back to your lions. You need Voltron!”

“Why take out one ship when we can stop all of this by taking out Lotor himself!” Keith disagreed, and Lance tightened his grip on the handle of his bayard nervous, anxious enough without the added tension.

“We can’t risk letting Lotor have that ship,” Shiro kept a calm but strong tone, “This is too important.”

“We can’t-” Keith began hotly, but was interrupted.

“Keith, Shiro has a point,” Allura began.

Keith lowered his head for a moment, thinking. “Okay,” he decided, “You guys go back to the lions; I’m gonna search the ship for Lotor.”

“I’m coming with you,” Lanced piped up suddenly, not totally in control of the words coming out of his mouth; Keith only let their eyes meet for a moment before-

“Keith, you need to stick together.” Shiro.

“I agree with Shiro,” Allura nodded.

Pidge and Hunk agreed as well. Lance remained silent, watching Keith intently. Keith turned his gaze to the floor briefly frowning deeply; Lance wondered if he should voice support for Keith’s idea.

Before he could open his mouth, Keith looked up at the rest of them, mouth pressed into a thin line before he spoke.

“Fine,” he agreed, barely hiding the bitter edge of his tone, “Let’s move.”

He turned immediately on his heel to leave.

That was when the door at the end of the hangar slid open; they were standing there.

Four women, all dressed in Galra armor, stood together on the other side. Lance subconsciously taking a step back, widened eyes darting over the women. They looked to be different species with vastly different features, but all four of them seemed to be Galra to some extent.

It was silent for what seemed like a year, each group surveying the other, both seemingly very surprised. Lance wasn’t sure if anyone was going to move until the largest of the Galra women jumped forward with a yell, and everything seemed to spring into action.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *         *

It wasn’t difficult to blast their way into the base; it might even have been easier to overtake the Galra forces inside, and with Narti’s abilities, the commander was more than willing to allow them access to the teladuv fragment at the heart of the facility.

The final step was to access the hangar and the advanced fighter held within. Acxa was using a holographic device on her wrist to track the unique trans-dimensional alloy while Narti, Zethrid, and Ezor followed behind, weapons at the ready.

“The ship is in the hangar at the end of the corridor,” Acxa heard Lotor’s voice through her earpiece, and the four of them nodded as they approached the looming metal entrance to the bay.

“Approaching target now,” Acxa updated out loud, but as she looked up from her holographic tracker she stopped in her tracks.

Ezor seemed to notice it second. “The hangar door’s already been forced open,” she quipped, examining it closer, “Whoever it was blew the lock!”

“Whoever it was is still inside,” Zethrid growled, tightening her grip on the blade in her hands, “I can smell them.”

“It’s Voltron,” Lotor’s voice sounded through all four of their earpieces, his voice calm, “Remember the plan; keep the paladins occupied. Narti, make your choice quickly; you know what you’re looking for.”

I understand, sire . Narti’s voice rang out in Axca’s mind; a disconcerting sensation, but one she had grown accustomed to nevertheless.

“I’m going to open the door,” She kneeled in front of Ezor, reaching into the blown panel, fiddling with the internal wiring until-

The door swept slowly open, and Acxa heard Zethrid growl instinctively before Acxa even saw inside the hangar.

Four warriors; they all wore similar armor, each young alien wearing a different color. They were unmistakably the paladins of Voltron.

Acxa moved to activate her earpiece when Zethrid let out a yell, charging forward.

“Zethrid w-” Acxa started, but she was too late.

Zethrid jumped for the nearest paladin, a young woman in pink armor. While Ezor ran out, attacking a much smaller paladin in green, Acxa turned to look at Narti, who sensed the movement and faced her as well.

“Make your decision quickly,” Acxa advised her, and a moment later Narti nodded; Acxa watched as her comrade sprinted several steps into the hangar before she disappeared into the rafters of the ceiling with one last bound.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *         *

Voltron outnumbered Lotor’s forces by one, but these women fought like hell.

Allura had been thrown into the wall a minute into her fight with the muscular, tall one; Lance tried to keep as far away from her as possible.

Lance had been immediately engaged by the last woman, a rather attractive one, Lance would have thought, if she hadn’t been trying to kill him. . She had begun her onslaught with dual-wield pistols, giving Lance just enough time to engage his personal shield. He had his bayard in his other hand, ready for another attack, but none came. He dropped his shield, breath still heavy, until he saw her again.

She had engaged Keith, and they met each other at a sprint, the metal of Keith’s bayard hitting the blunt metal of the Galra woman’s pistol.

Both gritting their teeth and staring into the eyes of the other, they seemed evenly matched. That was, until Keith’s eyes widened slightly, and he seemed to freeze up for a moment.

What’s wrong with him ? Lance thought desperately, and was about to take aim at the woman until she and Keith were thrown apart, almost as if some invisible force had pushed them.

Another Galra soldier, a tall, lanky girl with magenta skin had thrown a knife between Keith and the woman, starting them apart. Keith had been thrown off balance, and the slender woman took advantage, pulling another knife. As if time had slowed, he watched as the blade left her fingertips.

Lance only had a split second to aim; he blinked, taking a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. The laser made contact with the Galra blade, throwing it off it’s trajectory. Lance heard it echo off the metal floor as he let out the breath he was holding.

Eyes widened slightly, Keith whipped around to face Lance, sword in hand. Before Lance could muster a smile or say anything, it looked has though Keith had muttered something along the lines of ‘ thanks’ . Then, he was gone.

Lance shifted his gaze, scanning the hangar, gun still at the ready. All four of his fellow paladins were more than occupied; Pidge and Hunk were attempting to take the tall, intimidating Galra that seemed to favor hand to hand combat. Allura was testing her whip against the soldier with the throwing daggers, meanwhile Keith was defending another assault from the woman that had briefly engaged Lance minutes before.

Wait, Lance stopped himself, briefly lowering his defenses to allow thought, there were… four Galra soldiers.

He whipped around to look behind him, eyes widened slightly, gun re-raised and and trigger finger at the ready. Unless she had retreated back into the corridor, he would have noticed… would have… noticed…

Lance’s eyelids felt heavy suddenly, and he had to fight to keep them open, ultimately failing. His thoughts were slowly becoming clouded until suddenly,  he lost all feeling of… well, anything.

He couldn’t see, and the sounds from the chaos surrounding him became muffled, as though he was under water.

There was nothing.

Then, there was something.

Whispering. So very quiet, Lance could barely tell there was anything at all. The noise slowly grew louder and louder, however still indistinct, and Lance wasn’t able to understand a single word.

Until a voice rang out; louder than all the other voices combined. It was a woman’s voice, clearer than crystal and smoother than silk.

Shoot to kill.

Lance found himself raising his weapon; he couldn’t refuse.

Chapter Text

Acxa couldn’t help but be proud of her teammate.

She watched as Narti swung through the rafters, using her tail for balance, before dropping down silently directly behind her target: the Blue Paladin.

She placed one hand softly on the paladin’s upper back and pressed down ever so lightly with the palm of her hand. The man froze immediately, and he leaned back into Narti’s touch.

With the other hand, Narti placed her fingertips gently on the crown of his skull. At the sudden contact, the young man’s eyes began to glow, and as the light faded his gaze remained unfocused, his body still, awaiting orders.

It was working.

Only seconds later, Narti stepped back; her work was done.

Acxa wasn’t entirely sure what Narti had done, but once Narti had removed herself from him, he raised his rifle slowly to rest on his shoulder, resting a single finger on the trigger.

The first shot he took was directed at the red paladin.

He missed, only by a few inches, and only because the other paladin had made a sudden movement to dodge one of Ezor’s knives. The action did not go unnoticed.

“L-Lance!” The red paladin called out in confusion to his teammate, whom he obviously knew was not that bad of a shot.

Acxa activated her communication device. “Sire” she began, “The plan has progressed as planned; Narti has chosen a paladin.”

Less than a moment later, there was a fragment of static before Lotor spoke. “Excellent,” he spoke with obvious anticipation, “Return to the ship immediately, and bring our guest.”

There was a scream. It was the green paladin; the paladin under Narti’s control had managed to shoot her in the thigh, leaving a black mark on the armor surrounding what must have been a most unpleasant wound.

The girl whipped around, her eyes widening in surprise. “Lance!” She cried out, holding her thigh; she fell to the ground, unable to support her weight through the pain, “Lance stop!”

One down.

There was no response from ‘Lance’. Instead, he shifted his weight to set one knee on the ground, balancing himself further.  Behind him, Narti crouched down as well, using her puppet’s body as a shield should his teammates decide to turn on him. Her right hand was still lingering in the air several inches behind the paladin’s head, shifting slightly before every move the paladin made.

The young woman in pink armor was proving to be a much more difficult threat; using a long electric whip, she had managed to grab Ezor and throw her forcefully into the wall. Acxa was relieved when Ezor shook it off and attempted to stand afterwards, but the electric current seemed to render her incapable of moving her legs.

Noticing, Narti forced the blue paladin to engage the woman directly. He sprang from his knees towards the pink paladin, tackling her to the ground while she was still recovering from a hit that Zethrid had managed to land at her chest.

The blue paladin grabbed both of her wrists as he straddled her, and the woman’s eyes widened as she struggled, the fear in her expression evident. “L-Lance,” she managed through her gritted teeth, “Lance stop .”

Lance’s didn’t respond; in one swift movement, he twisted both of the pink paladin’s hands violently, breaking both of her wrists simultaneously. With one final scream, the woman crumpled to the floor.

Narti seemed satisfied with her puppet’s accomplishment, but Acxa gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply at the sight.

The green paladin was nearby, holding her leg and gritting her teeth in pain; conscious, but not a threat, while the yellow paladin engaged Zethrid.

Acxa moved to help Ezor, but paused when she heard a familiar sound. It was steadily growing louder: footsteps.

It was too late.

As she whipped around to face the sound, shooting pain was rushing through her forehead, forcing her vision to go fuzzy.  

A second hit came, this time to her stomach, and unable to bear the nausea her knees buckled, gravity pulling her to the ground roughly. Thoroughly disoriented, Acxa felt someone grab her arm, pulling it swiftly behind her back, and the last thing she heard was a sickening crack and her vision faded to darkness.

“Acxa!” Ezor cried out, watching as the red paladin pushed her teammate roughly to the floor, proceeding to stand over her unmoving figure.

Her vision went red at the corners and she forced herself to stand, ignoring the intense tingling sensation in her legs. She reached for a second dagger in her belt, but her imminent attack was interrupted.

“Do you have the paladin?” Lotor’s expectant voice rang through her earpiece.

“Yes,” Ezore furrowed her eyebrows, halted in her effort to grab a second dagger just in case, “but-”

“Excellent. We must leave the system immediately, return to the ship.”

Ezor bit her lip, gaze bouncing from Narti and the blue paladin to Acxa and the red paladin that guarded her.

“ Return now, ” another order sounded harshly through her earpiece at the lack of response, “We have limited time to evacuate the teludav from the system!”

In response to the prince’s orders, Narti made her hand into a fist, pulling her hand back swiftly from the blue paladin.

Like a puppet on a string, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

This did not go unnoticed by the red paladin. “Lance!” He called, and then gritted his teeth in anger, glaring between both Narti and Ezor at once.

Keith furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought, gripping his weapon even tighter.

If Hunk and I go down, none of us will get out of here.

“Hunk! We need to go!” He blurted out, desperately trying to figure out how to make that happen.

Neither Pidge nor Allura would be able to walk or run, but Hunk could easily carry them both out of the hangar.

His gaze shifted between the three remaining Galra soldiers, Hunk, and the unconscious Lance who had fallen behind the seemingly faceless soldier that stood over Lance, like a predator guarding its prey.

“I’ll-” he began, but stopped.

He doubted he could ever reach Lance, watching how adamantly the other Galra soldiers seemed to guard him, let alone get them both out of here on his own strength.

He glanced down at the woman he had defeated, still unconscious at his feet. There was no doubt that she could provide invaluable information about Lotor’s plans and the Galra empire.

With a pang, Keith realized his only viable option.

“Hunk! Take Allura and Pidge, get back to the lions,” he shouted out, eyes still watching Lance, hoping he would wake up, or fight back, or something .

Hunk hesitated for a moment, perhaps wondering what would become of his best friend, but accepted Keith’s order.

Meanwhile, Ezor guarded her remaining teammates as Zethrid advanced on Narti and the Blue paladin, picking up the latter easily and pulling him over her back. She narrowed her eyes at the red paladin, growling, but then turned to Ezor. “We need to go!” She yelled, her voice echoing throughout the hangar.

Seizing the opportunity, Keith ducked down, pulling the woman up by her arm and leaning her limp body against his own.

It wasn’t easy; the woman was almost as tall as him, but he managed to steady the both of them.

Ezor glanced back to Acxa, watching with a horrible sinking feeling as the red paladin pulled her unconscious teammate to her feet and attempted to follow the Yellow paladin out of the hangar.

We’ll come back for you.

Reluctantly, Ezor tucked both of the knives she held back into her belt, and gestured to Zethrid and Narti. “Let’s go.”

At her own words, her shoulders sagged, realizing the capture of this paladin was worth more than the rescue of their own teammate.

As Keith tried to keep up with Hunk, both Pidge and Allura slung over his respective shoulders, he had come to the same miserable conclusion.

Zethrid and Narti wasted no time in escaping out the hangar entrance with the blue paladin, Ezor lagged behind, leaving Acxa one reluctant gaze.

She briefly made eye contact with the red paladin, his piercing dark eyes boring into hers before she disappeared into the corridor and was gone.

He looked as though he had just made the worst trade of his life; Ezor was sure that she wore the same expression.

I promise I’ll come back for you.

Chapter Text

By the time they reached their lions, Keith was a mess.

While Hunk returned both Pidge and Allura to their lions, Keith carried himself and the Galra into the black lion; he let her drop to the floor and fell roughly into the pilot’s seat. He took one glance at the woman leaned up against the wall in the cockpit behind him, her arm bent in a purely unnatural direction.

Keith was sure that he had fractured half of the bones in her lower arm; it had been a split decision to inflict such an injury, and for a moment he felt guilty. But only for a moment.

“Sh-shiro,” Keith’s voice was hoarse as he spoke into his helmet.

There was a gasp of surprise and then a sigh of relief on the other end. “Keith!” Shiro exclaimed, “Keith, you’re alright! No one was responding to our communications, is everyone alright?”

Keith leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and ducking his face into his hands. “Hunk and I are okay, but Pidge and Allura are injured and-” Keith’s voice faltered for a moment, “Lance is gone.”

There was nothing but static for a moment. “L-Lance is gone?” This time it was Coran who spoke.

“What do you mean?” Shiro asked immediately, his stone stern but remaining almost annoyingly calm to Keith.

“I mean he’s gone!” Keith shot back immediately, each word proving to be louder, “They took him! I let them take him!”

With his last few words, Shiro realized that this was not the time for a debriefing. Luckily, Pidge’s voice came over the com to assist in an explanation.

With a moment to himself, Keith turned slightly and looked behind him; he was relieved to find the woman still unconscious, her chest now rising steadily with every breath. He was sure of it now; she was the Galra solider from the Weblum. The one that stole their bag of scaultrite, and the one that could have killed Keith on sight, but didn’t. Nevertheless, he grimaced to himself; he had given up Lance, his… teammate, in exchange for this woman .

“There were four of them” Pidge continued to explain, grunting briefly when she attempted to shift her position on her seat, “They engaged them in the hangar until they- until Lance... I don’t remember much after he shot me.”

“Lance shot you?” Shiro’s calm tone had a certain bite this time.

Keith rushed to interject, slamming the com button on the nearest console. “It wasn’t his fault!” He practically shouted into it, feeling as though he might be sick, “Those women… th-they took control of him, I don’t- we need to get him back!”

There was silence for a moment, filled only with Keith’s heavy breathing. “Bring the lion’s back to the ship,” Shiro replied quickly, “We need to be smart about this; we don’t have much time until Lotor and the teladuv leave the system.”

Keith sighed frustratedly at Shiro’s lack of conviction for the rescue of Lance, but then realized something; they had a bargaining chip.

“Lotor won’t leave the system,” he began, attempting a confident tone primarily to convince himself, “I have one of his team.”

“Oh that’s why you were carrying that Galra out of the hangar,” Hunk’s voice came over the com.

“It’s the same Galra that I saved in the weblum,” Keith continued, “I-I took her, and… I let them take Lance.”

“I’m sure you did what was best for the team,” Shiro attempted to reassure him, “bring the lions back to the castle. If you have one of his soldiers, maybe he’ll want to talk; he might even give Lance back in exchange for her safe return.”

The former of those two outcomes was true.

They were able to return the red lion back to the castle by sandwiching it between the black and yellow lions. Shiro was waiting for them when they returned; his eyes widened slightly when he saw his team. Pidge was limping severely, only able to walk while she was beside Allura, who hung on to Pidge with her remaining functional arm.

Meanwhile, Hunk was helping Keith support the woman, who was slowly becoming conscious; with every sudden stop and start she would groan quietly, her eyes fluttering open for a split once in a while before fluttering shut.

When Shiro saw Keith, he sighed with relief. “Hunk, help Allura and Pidge,” Shiro suggested, and Keith grunted as Hunk shifted his weight, slowly putting all of the woman’s weight onto Keith, “I’ll help Keith; we need to get up to the bridge.”

The four of them rushed to the bridge, where Coran was waiting. His eyes widened when he saw the team, even further when his gaze reached Allura and her injured arm.

“Open a channel,” Keith ordered before Coran could rush forward with assistance, “let’s see if Lotor’s ready to talk.”

Despite Coran’s objections, Allura refused to retreat to a healing pod. Pidge did the same, and both her and Hunk returned to their personal consoles once they reached the bridge.

Keith stopped on the deck in front of Allura’s castle controls, and slipped his arm out from under the Galra woman’s shoulder, allowing her to fall roughly from his grasp. She hit the floor and her head lolled slowly forward before it tilted upright slightly, indicating that she was slowly regaining consciousness.

“Opening subspace communications,” Coran announced, “if Lotor’s out there, he’ll notice.”

Keith took a deep breath, exhaling as if it had been the first since they entered the Galra base.

Lotor had to respond; Keith had  one of his generals. What could he possibly want with Lance, anyway? Thinking of the possibilities sent a shiver down Keith’s spine.

But he was sure that Lance was alive. If they wanted him dead, Lotor’s soldiers would have killed him in the hangar. What were they going to do?

It doesn’t matter, you’re going to get him back.

But if you don’t, the last thing you wou would have told him was-

Keith’s mind began to wander when suddenly, a leg swung under him, knocking him off balance and sending him to the floor.

He blinked in surprise, and by the time his eyes opened again he was on his back, up against the cold floor, staring into a pair of narrowed, violet eyes.

He tried to yell in surprise, but no sound came out of his opened mouth; he realized with a start that nothing was coming out. He couldn’t breathe, and as his eyes darted downwards to the long, dark fingers wrapped tightly around his neck, he realized why.

As he grabbed at the woman’s wrist, but to no avail. Only using a single hand, the arm with the bones that Keith had broken dangling at her side, it was enough to keep Keith under her and struggling to breath.

Keith vaguely recognized shouting happening around him, before a familiar purple glow appeared several inches from the woman’s own neck.

Shiro had activated his hand, only inches from her throat, and at the sudden threat her eyes widened, and in a sudden movement she released her hand from Keith’s neck.

He sucked in a sudden breath, quickly stumbling to his feet. The Galra had been pulled to her feet, and both of her arms were being held back by Hunk; she groaned with pain as her injured arm was pulled roughly behind her, and, to Keith’s disappointment, Hunk loosened his grip.

While Keith expected her to be satisfied at how easy she had beaten him, her expression was no less shocked than Keith as she stared with wide eyes at her surroundings and her captors, grimacing slightly from the constant pain.

“Where am I? Where’s Lotor?” Her questions came out quickly, her voice strong and unwavering, demanding answers, “Where’s Ezor, and the others? Let me go!”

She tried desperately to pull herself free from Hunk’s grasp, but it was obviously no use.

“You’re on our ship,” Keith explained, tone lacking emotion, “We’re attempting to contact Lotor now; we’re hoping he’ll give us back Lance. You know, the one your people kidnapped , in exchange for you.”

The woman gave a weak laugh. “You’re wasting your time,” she muttered, eyes downcast, “He’ll never return your precious teammate .”

Keith took a fast step towards her, bending over forwards slightly to put his face closer to hers. “Why?” He asked instantly, “What does he want? ”

He was met with only defiant silence, but his patience had run out. In one swift movement, his hand shot out and he wrapped his pale slender fingers around the woman’s neck, squeezing as hard as he dared.

She gave out a short sputtering cough after an attempt at a shallow breath, wavering confidence masking any look of panic in her eyes.

“ Keith ,” Shiro warned, breaking the silence from where he had been watching several feet behind Hunk.

As Keith’s fingers loosened and dropped, the woman’s expression hardened, and she stared up at Keith with harsh eyes. “I don’t know what Lotor wants with the blue paladin,” she spat, “And if  I did, I would n ever tell you!”

Keith scowled and opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted as a loud electronic whine echoed throughout the bridge.

“A small Galra cruiser less than a parsec away is responding to our signal!” Coran exclaimed.

All of the eyes on the bridge turned to look at the holographic screen in the front of the bridge as it sputtered to life, showing an Altean symbol before a new image appeared. A young man, sitting with one leg over the other relaxedly, face rested in the palm of his hand.

It was Lotor; at least, Keith assumed he was. The paladins had not yet seen the man in person, but here was his image, eyes darting to his soldier's face for a moment before staring them all down with general distaste.

He wasn’t totally Galra, as far as Keith could tell. His skin was pale and purple, a contrast to his platinum white hair; his eyes glowed an eerie yellow.

Those eyes landed on Allura, who was now standing next to Coran and cradling her injured arm in her other. A small smile appeared on his face.

“Princess Allura,” his voice was smooth and relaxed, “We meet again.”

“Lotor,” Allura replied coldly.

Lotor moved slowly to fold his hands in his lap, glancing over Hunk and Shiro to the Galra woman.

“I see you have Acxa,” Lotor spoke to no one in particular, eyes glancing over the bridge for a moment before he spoke again, “I’m disappointed; I was hoping to see you return with the others.”

Acxa opened her mouth to speak, but Shiro interrupted her.

“We’re willing to give her back to you if you return the paladin that your soldiers kidnapped,” he spoke in a diplomatic tone, meanwhile Keith feared that if he spoke he might attempt to strangle this man through the holographic screen.

Lotor seemed amused at Shiro’s proposal. “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, “No doubt the information and experience she possesses could be invaluable to you.”

Keith’s mouth fell open slightly, and he stared down at Acxa, waiting for her to say something. She didn’t, and she kept her gaze downcast. He put on a scowl.

Shiro let out a tense, hollow chuckle before opening his mouth to respond, but Keith was quicker.

“Dammit!” He exclaimed, glaring at Lotor, whose eyes had shifted to him with mild interest, “Give him back! Give him back and we’ll give you back your own !”

Lotor pursed his lips slightly, sizing up Keith for a moment.

“No.”

Keith blinked at Lotor, then again at Acxa, and back again. “W-wha-”

“I will not return your paladin,” Lotor raised his eyebrows slightly, “I went through quite a lot of trouble to get him to me, and I won’t be handing him over so easily.”

Keith’s mouth fell open, although he didn’t notice it. Shiro began speaking again, but the sound of his words were drowned out as a horrible realization dawned upon Keith.

He had allowed Lance to be captured by Lotor in exchange for one of his five soliders, in exchange for his own safe return; but Lotor didn’t want his general back.

If he wanted a paladin, he was going to get one.

“T-take me instead!” Keith intruppted whatever Shiro was saying, taking a step focusing on Lotor with what he hoped was a convincing expression, “You want a paladin, give Lance back, and I’ll go with you.”

“Keith, we-” Shiro’s tone wasn’t quite as calm as it had been before, but we was interrupted one last time as a low chuckle escaped Lotor.

“Ah, yes, what a stereotypical red paladin,” Lotor sighed, “confident, stubborn, and loyal till the end; unfortunately, that’s exactly why you are not already here.”

Before Keith could ask what the hell that meant, Lotor broke eye contact, returning his attention.

“You’ve done well, Acxa,” his tone was authoritative, pleased by the actions of his subordinate.

And then, the image went black, and the holographic screen dissolved into the air, along with the last of Keith’s confidence that he would be able to somehow get Lance back. The screen disappeared, leaving Keith to stare out into the darkness of space.

He heard the others begin to talk around him, but their voices didn’t make him feel any less empty.

Chapter Text

The Prince’s orders had been simple; find Voltron, and engage long enough for Narti to choose the paladin that would be the easiest to control, the most vulnerable. Then take him.

Those were his orders, and so they followed them. Narti chose the blue paladin, and so they took him.

Acxa had fallen behind, and so they left her behind.

When Ezor, Narti, and Zethrid, bringing the small, unconscious boy, reached the bridge, Lotor was occupied. His gaze was piercing the viewscreen in the forefront of the deck. Ezor immediately recognized with whom he was speaking; Acxa was with them.

She was on her knees, arms forced behind her back, teeth gritted in pain. There was fear in her eyes, hidden where only Ezor knew to look for it.

“Princess Allura, we meet again,” Lotor was relaxed, sitting one leg over the other in his chair.

“ Lotor ,” the voice that answered was cold, and a woman's.

So that was her.

“I see you have Acxa,” he answered calmly, leaning forward slightly with mild interest, “I’m disappointed; I was hoping to see you return with the others.”

Ezor didn’t notice as her hands curled into fists at her sides.

You ordered us to return without her , she thought angrily, although didn’t dare to speak aloud, and now they have taken Acxa from me.

“We’re willing to give her back to you,” a young man spoke up at Lotor’s words,  “if you return the paladin that your soldiers kidnapped.”

Ezor’s head whipped around from where she had been staring at the screen. Zethrid had dropped the boy to the ground, even though she could easily carry him. He was motionless on the ground, eyes shut tightly as if he was in the midst of a bad dream.

“Hmm,” Lotos vocalized his consideration.

Ezor turned back around, holding her breath as she watched things unfold from a respectable distance.

“No doubt the information and experience she possesses could be invaluable to you.”

The corners of Ezor’s mouth fell. “W-what,” she breathed, and turned her neck to look behind her, making eye contact with Zethrid, “What’s he talking about?”

Zethrid frowned at Ezor’s expression, and she nudged her lightly with her arm. “Everything’s gonna be fine,” she answered quietly, well, as quiet as you can get when you’re Zethrid.

Eyebrows furrowed and still unsure, Ezor turned to the viewscreen. She wished that Acxa could see her on the screen as Ezor could see her; maybe then Ezor could manage a smile, and Acxa wouldn't have that look in her eyes.

At Lotor’s words, Acxa raised her head to look at him, not able to hide the surprise in her expression as her eyes widened slightly and her mouth fell open.

“Dammit!” Someone cried out suddenly , and Ezor’s eyes darted to and narrowed at the face of the red paladin; she remembered him vividly .

He had taken several steps forward, glaring at Lotor with eyes like daggers. “Give him back!” He yelled, “Give him back and we’ll give you back your own!”

Yes, give her back . The Prince could never refuse his offer.

“No.”

Ezor inhaled sharply, staring incredulously at Lotor. She wanted to scream at him, but she knew that any action like that would only end her up like the blue paladin that lay only feet from herself.

The red paladin and his team seemed just as shocked. They stood still, jaws slack and eyes widened,

“L-lotor!” The Altean woman Allura spoke for the second time, “Surely you must listen to reason!”

“This is a fair trade,” the man in black armor spoke firmly, his eyes narrowed threateningly at the screen, but Lotor didn’t seem at all phased, “In the end a captured paladin is far less important than your own-”

“Take me instead!” The red paladin exclaimed suddenly, stepping in front of the paladin that he had interrupted, “You want a paladin? Give Lance back, and I’ll go with you; I promise.”

The red paladin’s voice cracked, and Ezor’s scowl faltered. She remembered how he had looked as they had dragged his comrade out of his hangar, leaving him with only Acxa, and she found it hard to remain angry.

Lotor seemed amused at the paladin’s proposal. “What a stereotypical red paladin you are; confident, stubborn… you would make a fascinating subject” he said, almost teasingly, “Unfortunately that’s why you are not already here.”

Subject? Ezor’s frown deepened as her mind wandered over the fate of the blue paladin, but her attention was forced back to Acxa as Lotor addressed her directly.

“You’ve done well, Acxa,” Lotor raised his head slightly, reaching a hand out to the control panel on his right side.

One moment, Ezor’s eyes were fixed on Acxa, even though the latter didn’t even know the former could see her at all. The next, the holographic screen disappeared, leaving Ezor to stare at a blank wall.

The bridge went silent, but Ezor couldn’t help it; She blew up. “No!” She cried out suddenly, spinning on her superior officer with a vengeance

“Ezor-” She heard Zethrid attempt to stop her, reaching out to Ezor, but she stepped away.

“How dare you let them take her,” she thundered, advancing on Lotor as far as she dared, “You… you stubborn, selfish-”

Lotor pushed himself from his chair, standing straight and practically shadowing Ezor.

“I make the decisions for the good of this crew,” he hissed, gesturing with his hands to Ezor, Zethrid, and Narti, “Remember your place. Now, wake the boy. Now .”

Ezor bit her tongue behind her lips, If there was a Galra expression for seeing red, Ezor was experiencing something akin.

Meanwhile, behind her, Zethrid pulled the unconscious boy to his feet, like preparing a puppet for performance. Then it was Narti’s turn, and she placed the spread fingertips of one hand lightly over the boy’s dark hair before twisting her wrist in a swift motion, curling her fingers into a tight fist, and the boy’s eyes opened.

Zethrid let go of him and took a step back, as if preparing for an attack, but the paladin didn’t move.

On the contrary, his knees buckled nearly immediately, and he could have fallen again if Narti herself hadn’t grabbed him under the arms and held him as he attempted to focus his vision. Eventually, his pupils shrunk to a normal size- at least, what Ezor assumed was normal for his species- and he seemed to become aware of his surroundings, albeit a bit dazed.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

(Alright Imma start switching POVs here stay with me)

Lance

Lance didn’t remember much. In fact, he didn’t remember anything at all.

His eyes fluttered open, but everything he saw was blurred, and everything he heard was muffled, as if he was underwater. He couldn’t feel anything, and he couldn’t speak. He wasn’t even sure if he could open his mouth.

There were quiet voices, somewhere out there, a woman’s and a man’s. He couldn’t tell what they were saying, but they were loud. Maybe that’s what woke him up.

Eventually, his eyes snapped open voluntarily, but the sudden inflow of purple light only made him dizzier.

There was a feeling in the back of his mind, like a cloud had up and settled there, suffocating his thoughts. He forced his lips to part, mouth uncomfortably dry, and tried to say something; speak, scream, anything . But nothing came out.

“Welcome, paladin,” a voice came from somewhere in front of him, someone he couldn’t see, “How are you feeling?”

Ezor

Narti’s hand floated airily several centimeters above the paladin’s hair as Lotor addressed the boy.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, voice uncharacteristically relaxed.

The boy’s eyes were cloudy and unfocused, but he seemed to understand the question. Narti would no doubt make sure that the prince’s questions were answered truthfully.

“I’m dizzy,” came the paladin’s reply.

“It won’t last,” Lotor responded, and took a step towards the paladin and Narti before gesturing to the ladder, “Narti, release him. I wish to speak to him .”

Ezor never claimed to fully understand the extent of Narti’s power, honestly the idea of doing so was almost frightening. She had never personally been under the woman’s control, pray she never would be, but watched closely the boy's face as she tried to imagine what he was experiencing. Then she witnessed it.

Narti twisted her wrist and closed the fingers of her hand into a fist, dropping it to her side. The blue paladin took an intake of breath, the cloudy cover over his eyes fading to reveal their true blue color.

He buckled, falling to his knees, but not unconscious in the slightest. Ezor flinched as the sound of the armor hitting the floor echoed throughout the bridge. She watched as the boy’s hands flew to grab the sides of his head, fingers reaching to tangle themselves in his brown hair.

“Get out, ” he rocked forward and backward slightly, voice raising in volume and pitch, “Get out !”

Ezor averted her widened eyes to Lotor, who was watching the scene a meter or so from his feet with an expression far different than any emotion Ezor had ever seen him display.

“-e- ut-” Ezor’s gaze snapped back to the paladin on the floor near, his words lost as he began to sob, choking on his own breaths as he gripped handfuls of his hair so tightly Ezor thought he would begin to pull it out.

Her surprise was nothing compared to that she felt when Lotor knelt down in front of the boy, lowering his head so that he was less than a meter from the paladin’s face.

“You’re safe ,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, and his sudden change in disposition, especially one that Ezor had never experienced, made her uncomfortable.

With a last sniff, the blue paladin slowly raised his head, mussed hair falling messily over his eyes and sticking to the skin with new sweat. As soon as his eyes met Lotor’s, however, he threw himself backwards with a new sense of energy.

His eyes widened as he attempted frantically to get himself across the floor away from Lotor, obviously aware that he was about to stumble into Narti. He didn’t seem able to stand.

“A-are you Prince Lotor?” His voice was hoarse, fear evident in his tone and eyes.

Slowly, the prince rose to his feet, and reached an open hand down to the paladin. “Yes,” he admitted, while the paladin’s eyes glanced from Lotor’s face to his outstretched hand.

Meanwhile, there was a kind of adrenaline running through his veins like fire, the kind that only fear can make possible. It was telling Lance to get up, get to his feet and run, but at the same time he was rooted to the spot. He was sure that the man before him was Lotor; prince of the Galra empire. Zarkon’s son.

To his utmost surprise, the young man extended a hand towards Lance, but Lance made no move to accept. Perhaps out of spite, or fear, or both, he attempted to stand on his own.

The muscles in his arms were shaky but able, and Lance managed to push himself up onto legs in the same state. He moved his arms outward in an attempt to balance himself.

Lance realized with dread that he was not going to fight his way out of this one. Instead, he dragged one foot behind the other leg, raising both hands to his chest with weak fists in what he hoped was an intimidating stance. However, the look in his eyes must have betrayed him, for Lotor simply dropped one arm to his side while resting the other hand on his hip, looking completely unperturbed.

“You need not be afraid,” his voice was soft and low, the unnatural sound almost comforting.

Lance blinked, hands still held in front of his chest and held in weak fists.

“Sire,” the silence was punctured, and Ezor noticed that in the time in which she was watching the interactions between the two men in the room, Zethrid and Narti had returned to their own positions on the bridge.

“The Altean ship is preparing to leave the system.”

Ezor whipped around, where the viewscreen showed a clear image of the vessel, its engines beginning to power up. She felt her hands ball up into fists at her sides, wanting to glare at Lotor out of spite but unable to tear her eyes away.

Acxa was aboard that ship, and there was nothing Ezor could do about it.

With what she was sure was the last bit of the paladin’s energy, the boy spun on his heel, shifting his gaze from the forefront of the bridge to whom he must be sure had captured him.

“Why did you bring me here!” His voice was stronger now, but obviously lacked the bite necessary to catch Lotor’s complete attention as the latter continued to watch the screen.

When the man didn’t answer immediately, Lance returned his attention to the viewscreen, where the castle had begun to move slowly through space.

Where were they going?

“One of my own generals was stolen aboard your ship, while you were left unconscious in the hangar; no one came back for you.”

After the man’s words, a hand rested lightly on Lance’s shoulder. He flinched, leaning slightly away, but nothing changed. Lance couldn’t take his eyes off of the screen.

“Your friends abandoned you.”

Slowly, Lance turned his upper body around to look at Lotor, something between incredulity, despair, and anger.
“They wouldn’t,” his eyebrows were furrowed, “No, t-they couldn’t! They would come back for me!”

Watching the exchange, Ezor watched what the paladin would never notice. While his voice became simultaneously louder and weaker, talking to no one in particular, the Prince gave a slightly nod to Narti, making eye contact for barely a moment before returning his attention to the boy.

He put both of his hands up, several inches from where they would have been resting on the paladin’s armored shoulders

“They told me that the loss of the information which my general could provide them would be greater than the minor inconvenience of finding a new blue paladin,” The Prince continued, eyes narrowing slightly in false concern, “The red one was particularly… anxious to leave without you.”

Ezor’s mouth fell open, but she was sure to hide the gesture with her hand. This was a blatant lie ; she was sure that the other paladins would have given almost anything for his return.

She watched with a carefully still expression as the blue paladin’s skin paled significantly, but before he could speak Lotor averted his eyes to somewhere behind Ezor.

Then, Narti was back, and Ezor had hardly noticed when she appeared behind the boy and engaged him again with the same motions as before, but this time there was no difference; no reaction. But the boy didn’t turn around, didn’t speak, now fully captivated with the Prince’s words.

“K-keith… No-” the boy began to shake his head, each movement increasing with energy and speed, “They wouldn’t…” he trailed off, as if unsure.

Lotor nodded twice and hummed, imitating sympathy. “I’ve been told,” Ezor saw him glance up briefly at Narti, “That you’ve become liability for your team; your importance is never… guaranteed.”

“I thought maybe-” again the boy stopped himself, furrowing his eyebrows, “Yes.”

The Prince nodded. “And is that why they left you behind?” He offered, the ghost of a smile playing on the corner of his mouth.

Reluctantly, the paladin nodded. Then, to everyone’s surprised, his face snapped upward to stare Lotor in the eye. “You can’t keep me here!” He exclaimed, narrowing his eyes and taking a step away from the Galra.

At the sudden movement backwards, Narti flinched away before returning with a vengeance, grabbing the boy’s upper arms, the sharp ends of her nails leaving miniscule marks on the metal armor.  

Then the boy’s aggressive expression fell away again, and Narti released her grip, stepping backwards to a more comfortable distance while still being able to… Ezor wasn’t quite sure what she was doing.

Lotor turned his head slightly, obviously shifting his attention to the front of the bridge and the active viewscreen. At his action, the paladin also turned, and Narti stepped away, her work finished.

“There they go.”

The ginormous white ship was leaving, proceeding through a billowing black and blue void lined with white: a wormhole.

Lance watched as more and more of the castle was out of sight, leaving the system to some place millions of miles away; everything in him seemed to drop when the wormhole closed, swirling shut until there was nothing left but the empty vacuum of space, dotted with stars that didn’t seem enough to fill it.

Lance felt even emptier. Feeling as though he was unnecessary to his team was one thing.

Being left behind was worse.

Chapter Text

After contact with Lotor’s ship was lost, the Galra woman lost consciousness. Whether from the pain from her broken arm, anxiety, or a defense mechanism, Keith didn’t attempt a guess.

So Shiro carried her to a healing pod. Keith tried to explain that it was in their best interests to leave her injured in case she would endeavor to escape. Shiro said that that would be inhuman, and Keith almost said that he had an excuse, then.

Once she was secured in the pod, Pidge and Allura reluctantly took places in their own after Shiro and Coran assured them both that everything would be under control until they were healed.

After a hiss and click that echoed throughout the silent room, Hunk and Coran dismissed themselves to the bridge, planning to attempt to track Lotor’s ship.

Keith turned to retreat to the training deck- it wasn’t the most helpful of activities, given the situation, but he was well accustomed to taking out emotion on the gladiator- before he was stopped.

“Keith.”

Shiro. Slowly, Keith turned, eyes downcast, expecting some kind of lecture on controlling his impulsiveness, or just being plain stupid.

“That was very selfless of you.” That came instead.

Keith’s head snapped up to look his friend in the eye, but Shiro wasn’t looking at him; he was standing in front of the Galra’s healing pod, staring up at the motionless woman with slightly furrowed brows.

“What?” When Keith spoke, Shiro turned and took a few steps until he was a meter from Keith, wearing a soft smile.

“It was impulsive,” Shiro admitted, and Keith let out a breath, “But when you offered to give yourself up in Lance’s place, it was selfless. I’ve never seen that side of you before.”

Keith’s eyes darted away from Shiro for a moment, careful as to what he would answer.

“I owe him,” he mumbled quietly.

“Must have been quite a favor, then,” Shiro raised his eyebrows, “If you…”

He trailed off when Keith looked down at the ground, running a hand conspicuously over his eyes. He made a split decision and closed the space between the two of them, wrapping his arms around the smaller boys shoulders in a delicate but sturdy embrace.

Keith sniffed, resisting the temptation to let the stress of the past 24 hours show itself in the form of tears.

“I-” he attempted to speak, swallowing visibly after his voice wavered, “He told me… that he loved me.”

Shiro’s eyes widened slightly, unbeknownst to Keith whose head was still up against the former’s chest.

“He…” Shiro mentally slapped himself to, “A-and what did you say?”

Shiro felt Keith’s shoulders shake several times before he was still again, another moment passing before he spoke.

“I completely dismissed him,” Keith’s voice raised slightly in pitch, speaking as if he didn’t quite believe it himself, “I-I thought he might have been sick or something… under too much stress.”

Anyone who knew Shiro would say that the man was normally good at this sort of thing, but he was no expert at love. He had never even heard the word out of Keith’s mouth before.

“H-he told me after I-” Keith took in a sharp breath, running his hands over his face, “After I told him that he was no longer useful to this… to this team.”

Shiro’s head snapped up at his words, looking at the shorter boy incredulously. “You-” his words were cut off before he sighed deeply, running a hand over his face, “ Keith .”

His tone wasn’t disappointed or chastising, but compassionate… pity. Keith didn’t like to be pitied, but at this point he didn’t feel he had a choice.  

Shiro sighed again, reaching up to set a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Did you apologize?” He asked sincerely, and it took all of Keith’s self control not to lie.

“I didn’t have a chance… before the mission,” Keith’s voice was small, and even he had to admit it was a terrible excuse, one that Shiro didn’t buy.

“And now you feel guilty,” Shiro nodded, putting the pieces together, “Because you think it’s your fault that they took him.”

“It is my fault!” Keith snapped, “If I would have given up Lotor’s general, if I would have fought to get to him-”

“Then you’d be dead,” Shiro spoke seriously, “And they would still have taken Lance.”

It was silent between the two of them for a lasting moment before Keith turned away from Shiro, staring down an empty healing pod several meters away.

“He’ll never forgive me,” he breathed, the words barely heard by Shiro, “ I would never forgive me. And now I- we might never see him again.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Shiro responded quickly, taking a step forward to stand behind Keith but not forcing the boy to look at him, “We’ll get him back, and he’ll forgive you. You know Lance; he always bounces back.”

When Keith didn’t respond, Shiro patted his shoulder twice and Keith heard receding steps behind him until a door shut loudly, the sound echoing throughout the hall before leaving himself to stand in silence.

Shiro was confident that Lance would bounce back, but Keith wasn’t sure. At all.

Allura will keep the blue lion. She’s a better pilot than I am, anyways.

Lance had said it like a statement, but he had come to Keith with questions. For confirmation. Keith thought bitterly that he had certainly given lance confirmation.

Your usefulness has run out.

Keith thought with no small amount of incredulity that it was such a ridiculous thing to say at the time, and the guilt that he had felt immediately after he had said it was magnified now that he might never had the chance to apologize.

No, he told himself; no, you’ll get him back. Lotor won’t take him and disappear. He’ll come back, and you’ll have your chance. Whatever it takes.

He owed him that much.

LATER

The glass door to the healing pod slid open with a hiss, small amounts of white gas escaping at the base.

Allura and Pidge had exited their pods several minutes ago, and now all remaining six of the team stood together as the last pod open, containing the Galra woman.

A tick after the pod opened completely, her eyes snapped open and she released a loud gasp, startling several of the team. Gravity and the tilt of the floor beneath her forced her to take two severely unsteady steps forward, strength wavering, but no one stepped forward to assist her.

Her breaths were silent, but her chest rose and fell in conspicuous, rapid movements. When she noticed her audience, she straightened her posture with a sudden burst of her returning strength. No one spoke until she did.
“How long have I been unconscious,” her tone was surprisingly calm for someone who was alone, standing among her enemies.

Shiro took the liberty of answering. “Only several hours.”

When the woman said nothing, Pidge turned to Shiro. “Now?” She asked quietly, and Shiro glanced between Pidge and the woman before speaking.

“Pidge… is going to take sample of your blood,” Shiro explained slowly.

The woman raised her eyebrows, but gave neither an affirmative nor negatory answer, so Pidge proceeded. She moved slowly, as if approaching a feral animal.

“T-this might hurt,” she said, raising the small metal device in one hand and using the other to warily roll back the fabric of the woman’s sleeve to expose the skin of her wrist.

The woman’s eyes darted furiously quickly from Pidge’s face to where the cold metal made contact with her skin. Then, there was searing hot pain on her skin as the dark liquid began to fill the transparent part of the apparatus.

The woman hissed at the pain and reached to tear the device from the much smaller person’s hands, but froze when half of the people in the room reached for their weapons. Slowly, she returned her opposite hand to her side.

Startled, Pidge darted away from the woman when her work was finished, practically leaving a trail of smoke in her wake as she approached the nearest console. While she would test it, Shiro, Keith, Allura, Coran and Hunk returned their attention to their prisoner, who seemed more than apprehensive to return her attention to them.

“We are going to ask you several questions,” the Galra soldier's head snapped up at the sound of another woman’s voice.

It was Allura; she had spoken from where Pidge had stood. “You’d best answer them; truthfully .”

The Galra woman raised her chin to the group, looking them over. “Are you going to torture me?” she asked tantalizingly, “until I give you all the answers?”

Keith raised his eyebrows. This woman had the nerve to be complacent in any form, given her situation, but her aura of confidence didn’t seem to reach her eyes.

“What is your name?” Allura managed to contain a calm demeanor at the resistant attitude that she faced.

The woman narrowed her eyes for a moment, presumably debating whether or not it would be in her best interests to answer truthfully.

“My name is Acxa.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Acxa huffed.

Keith crossed his arms in front of him, teeth gritted behind his lips. Why were they wasting time with useless conversation? This woman’s arm should still be broken, and if Keith had his way she would be begging to lead them to Lotor, and Lance.

But now, he could only watch.

“Are you a hybrid, Acxa?”

This particular question seemed to strike a nerve; the woman looked down at the ground and growled.

“This is not for you to know,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact with anyone but the metal tile at her feet.

“If you refuse to tell us the answer, Pidge will discover it,” Allura reminded her lightly.

Acxa shifted her feet, pulling both of her hands behind her back, subconsciously testing the strength of her healing arm.

“I-I don’t know,” she finally replied, albeit reluctantly, her answer catching Keith off guard.

“You don’t know ?” He asked incredulously, not realizing that he said it aloud until everyone turned to him.

“I don’t know!” Acxa snapped immediately, expression furious, “I suggest you accept it.”

“Perhaps we can come to some sort of-” Allura maintained her regal attitude, but Keith was tired of the run-around.

“Why did Lotor take Lance?” The words burst out, questions coming out faster than he thought about asking them, “Where will he take him? How can we get him back?”

“Keith-” someone tried to stop him, but to no avail.

“No!” He exclaimed, turning the to others, namely Allura, who was the one who had spoken, “I’m sick of this… this diplomacy ! This woman is our prisoner, and she has answers!”

With gritted teeth, hands balled into tight fists at his sides, he spun on his heel and turned to leave. As the automatic doors slid open at his presence, he heard calls after him, but as he proceeded down the corridor the only footsteps were his own.

LATER

He would finish one more opponent, he told himself; either that, or the opponent would finish him. He was admittedly fine with both outcomes.

“Computer,” Keith called out, “Raise difficulty to level seven.”

Slowly, his holographic opponent materialized before him, wielding a long, metal sword that glinted in the bright lights of the training deck. Keith tightened his grip on his bayard and raised it slowly, the tired muscles in his arms aching as he forced them to move.

The gladiator moved first, charging him and swinging its weapon swiftly, but Keith was faster. He slid on his knees under the hologram’s broad stroke, coming up behind it.

He swung his own blade, but his opponent was quick to block it, swinging hard back at Keith. Surprised and already exhausted, Keith managed to dodge the blow, but was too slow; the tip of his opponent’s blade broke the skin on Keith’s cheek, just below the eye.

Keith groaned as he brought the hand that wasn’t holding his weapon up to his face, briefly examining the cut before focusing back on his adversary.

Yelling out, Keith swung his sword hard one way, directly at the hologram's chest. When it went to block Keith's blow he reversed his momentum and came at his opponent's opposite side.

Just before the blade pierced its target, the hologram blocked it with its own, its superior strength pushing Keith back easily.

Already worn from the constant training, Keith gathered himself slower than he normally would have, giving his opponent the time to aim a hard kick at Keith’s slower back.

He cried out in pain as the force sent him sliding across the floor several meters. He flipped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and coughing, the wind knocked out of him.

"Computer," he managed through a gasp, "End training!"

He didn’t watch, but he heard as the hologram dissipated into the air again. Keith just layed there, body flat against the floor. The cold metal felt good against his warm, sweaty skin.

When he heard the door of the training hall open with a quiet hiss, he didn’t look until he heard the voice that matched the footsteps.

“Woah,” a familiar voice said, “Are you okay?”

Keith turned his neck, setting his cheek against the cool floor.

“I’m find, Shiro,” he sighed, “Just, taking a break.”

A moment later, a hand was offered to Keith, and he begrudgingly sat up with a groan and grabbed onto his wrist before Shiro pulled him to his feet with an unsurprising amount of strength.

As soon as their eyes met, Shiro’s widened. “Y-your eye,” he nodded towards the cut just below Keith’s eye, and Keith realized that he could feel the blood dripping onto his skin.

“It’s fine- I’m fine,” Keith mumbled as he wiped the hot liquid from his face with the back of his hand, unused voice slightly hoarse, “What are you doing here?”

“I figured you’d want some time to yourself,” Shiro explained as Keith nodded, dusting off his black pants.

“But you’ve got another inspirational speech that’s just too good, huh?” Keith guessed with mild sarcasm.

To his surprise, Shiro chuckled, but shook his head. “Actually,” he shrugged, “I thought you might want a sparring partner; you know, a real one.”

Keith narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the man’s proposal, but then shrugged himself. “Whatever,” he agreed nonchalantly, “That program was getting too easy anyway.”

Shiro bit back a comment about how Keith had been lying on the floor when he came in; instead, he waited for the boy to transform his bayard before activating his own weaponized arm, the mild purple glow steady in his peripheral vision.

Keith attacked first, coming with his broadsword at Shiro’s right side. The clang of metal on metal rang about the training hall when Shiro used his arm to stop the blow; as the echo of the resulting sound faded, Keith spoke.

“So,” he said, grunting as he blocked another attack from Shiro, “What happened with…”

“Acxa,” Shiro reminded him of the woman’s name before aiming a kick at Keith’s hip; it was obvious that Keith was trying to avoid the most pertinent subject at the moment, and he was grateful that Shiro respected that.

“Yeah,” Keith mumbled noncommittally.

“Well, after you left,” Shiro continued, blocking a series of swift blows from Keith’s sword, “She continued to refuse to answer any questions, even after Allura threatened to return her to the cryopod.”

Keith scoffed, albeit it was more of a sharp breath as he had already been tired before Shiro had arrived. “That’s not much of a threat,” he muttered.

Shiro shook his head. “I don’t know what you want us to do, Keith,” he sighed, taking a swift step backwards as Keith swung wide in front of him, “We are not going to torture this woman, no matter what information she may possess. That’s not what Voltron is about.”

Keith bit back a remark about not exactly caring about what Voltron was about, and didn’t respond. The two of them continued to spar as if nothing had been said at all, and Keith found his thoughts wandering, as they often did when he did this sort of thing.

Practicing against Shiro like this brought back memories of what had happened not even a day ago. Those women fought like demons, definitely better than any opponent, holographic or otherwise, Keith had ever faced. No doubt that if they hadn’t worked as a team-

What a help Keith had been, he thought suddenly.

He hadn’t realized what exactly was happening when the faceless Galra soldier put her hands on Lance’s shoulders. He hadn’t realized what was happening when Lance shot Pidge. He hadn’t realized that they were kidnapping Lance until Keith was no longer able to save him.

He didn’t realize anything until it was too late; what a leader he had been, he thought angrily.

“Oof!” A sudden sound brought him out of his thoughts, and he realized that Shiro had stumbled backwards, almost losing his balance but catching himself before he did so.

Keith must have hit him harder than he thought. Before he could apologize, however, he was interrupted.

The two froze when a voice came over the loudspeaker of the now silent hall; it was Pidge.

“The results from the blood sample I took from the prisoner came back,” her voice was inexpressive but wavering slightly.

“You need to see this.”

Chapter Text

Ezor was frustrated; and confused. And, admittedly, slightly concerned.

She was frustrated because the Prince had disappeared from the bridge as soon as the Altean castle ship had left the system, along with the blue paladin. It had been hours since she had seen either of them.

Ezor was confused because before Lotor had left he had given Narti an unknown order.

Ezor was concerned because Narti had immediately retreated down to the ship’s Quintessence Lab.

He was only a boy, after all.

Lance

Whether Lance had fallen asleep or lost consciousness, he wasn’t sure, but the last thing he remembered was his eyes closing slowly around a dimly lit room no bigger than two or three walk-in closets. When he woke up again, however, he was lying on a rough cot in a room similar in size to his own bedroom back at the castle.

The castle . Where was the castle now, he wondered. Where had his friends gone. He had a hazy but solid memory of Lotor telling him that he had contacted Voltron in an attempt to return Lance to his team, but…

They didn’t want him back. Hunk, Pidge, Allura, Keith-

The mere thought of Keith in itself was a proverbial shot to his heart. Memories of the past few days rushed through his mind, but he was much too numb to shed a tear about it. It was as if Keith’s words to Lance days ago had predicted the future; it was as if he really had outlived his usefulness. Now he was here- wherever here was.

Lance sat up, ignoring the pain in his joint and chest, and noticed that there was a thin blanket thrown over his bottom half. In spite of himself, he gripped the fabric tightly in his fists, pulling it up to his chest. He shivered, though he wasn’t cold.

He took the next few moments to look about his room- his cell. A soft purple light glowed about the space, reflecting off the immaculate metal floor and walls. It was silent, save for the gentle hum of an engine somewhere far off. It was familiar, but he was far more accustomed to the hum of the castle. It was familiar.

Nothing about this place was familiar. The walls should be silver. The floor should be white. His bed should be bigger, and blue, and full of his own scent. He should have a window, with a view of the stars. Of infinite space. There was no window. No windows, just walls. The cell was so small, and… getting smaller.

Lance’s chest tightened up, and he suddenly found himself having to gasp for breath. He threw the blanket onto the floor, suddenly burning up.

Then his vision started to spin, and his hands reached around reflexively to grasp the corners of his cot, his knuckles turning white.

He sucked in a breath immediately, resisting the temptation to hold it as he slowly exhaled, before doing the same again. He used his legs and pushed himself backwards with a sudden burst of strength, back slamming against the wall and almost knocking his breath out of him. After his umpteenth exhale, he felt okay.

With the blanket gone, he could see that someone had changed his clothes; however, instead of prison garb, he wore a simple black combat suit. It fit tight to his skin, but was nevertheless comfortable.

He brought his knees to his chest in a slow, dragging movement, still against the wall, and with a fleeting wonder about the location of his paladin armor, he fell asleep.

***

After what might have been minutes, or maybe hours, Lance was woken with a start as the door to his cell opened for the first time. His eyes quickly adjusted to the low levels of light and he was able to make out who had entered.

A… person, he assumed, but then as the dim light of the room reflected the bright hues of their skin, his eyes widened.

Although he didn’t recognize the species, he recognized her . One of the Galra warriors; she was tall and thin, wearing armor that was unmistakably Galra, and her unnaturally blue eyes watched him intently.

Lance realized that he had already jumped from his bed, and was standing near the back of the cell, as far away from the Galra soldier as possible. He wanted to do something, defend himself, try to escape, anything ; but he couldn’t even open his mouth to speak. Finally, she did.

“Welcome,” she said, voice high in pitch but relatively somber in tone; then, as if an afterthought, added, “Blue Paladin.”

That was all she said; she didn’t move from her spot near the open cell door, and neither did Lance, until his curiosity overcame his fear. Barely.

“W-where am I?” His voice faltered, and he winced, “I don’t...”

“You’re with us,” the woman spoke; her lips pursed together as she finished her sentence, as if there was more she wanted to say but was not allowed, until she added, “On a Galra stealth cruiser.”

Lance’s eyebrows creased together. “Us?” This time he was grateful that his voice was steady, words coming out twice as confident as he felt as he spoke them.

However, instead of responding, the woman’s gaze fell to the ground briefly before she turned away from Lance.

“You should come with me,” the soldier made a gesture with her hand for him to follow her and looked as though she was going to leave, but Lance didn’t move a muscle.

She must have noticed, as she stopped again, back still to Lance.

“ Please ,” she sighed, lowering her head slightly, “This will be easier for both of us if you listen to me.”

Lance’s eyebrows creased together, and he frowned. Every part of his mind and body was telling him to fight, or run, but somewhere in him knew that neither of those options would end well for him- or fix anything.

His legs carried him out.

There was more light in the hall than in his cell, and Lance could see that the soldier's armor was a dark violet color, and her skin was indeed a fascinating pattern of orange and pink.

“Where are we going,” Lance said the words as more of a statement in an attempt to muster as much confidence as he could, and at best seem a little intimidating.

As if he was not the one of them that was unarmed, disoriented, and a prisoner. His stomach turned.

She didn’t respond.

“You know who I am,” Lance tried again, tone satisfyingly self-assured, “Do you have a name?”

The woman, as if deciding whether or not to answer.

“I-I’m not authorized to tell you,” she finally admitted, “But I will be helping to oversee-” she paused, “your transition.”

Lance didn’t ask any more questions.

Lance tried to remember the path they took down the corridor, but in the end he lost track through all the twists and turns and gave up just as the woman stopped, and Lance after her, before a wide metal door, similar to the one guarding Lance’s own cell.

As if sensing the motion at its threshold, the door slid open with a quiet hiss that could barely be heard over the rumbling of a distant engine. It was dark inside, and until Lance entered the room after the woman he could only make out vague shapes of what was inside.

The door closed immediately after Lance stepped over the doorsill, and he had a fleeting thought that they would never open again.

The woman’s unique voice snapped him out of it.

“Sit in the center,” she ordered; the tone of her voice remained impossible to read.

Lance didn’t move, even when she made a supposedly helpful gesture to the room and what surrounded them. There was a plethora of dull metal machinery that he couldn’t begin to recognize; none of it seemed very threatening, but Lance knew more than most that anything that has to do with the Galra is not always what it appears to be.

In the center of the room and the various contraptions, there was a chair, if you could call it that; it reminded Lance of a dentist chair back on earth, but less comfortable. It still loomed just as ominously.

“ Sit! ” She hissed suddenly; her patience with her prisoner must have worn out.

Lance jumped at the sudden exclamation, and moved towards the chair. He leaned up beside it and brought his leg over one side before pulling himself up.

As he moved, he realized a dull ache that seemed to have manifested into every one of his muscles, and he wondered why he hadn’t realized until now.

Once he shifted into a relatively comfortable position on the hard surface, he brought his head back, staring at the ceiling until the light began to burn his eyes and he shut them.

Maybe when he opened them again, he would be back home. The castle, earth; maybe all of this was a dream.

“You’re dismissed, Ezor,” a voice, a new voice, said, and there was no response but the quiet hiss of the lab door opened and then shut.

Then it was silent. Whoever had spoken didn’t again, but Lance wouldn’t let it continue. He might be useless, but he wasn’t dumb, and this was an intimidation tactic.

“I’m not afraid,” he said out loud, feeling slightly uneasy talking to someone he couldn’t see, “Of the Galra, of you ; I’m not afraid. I’m not.”

He repeated it, like a mantra, until he closed his eyes, steadying his breaths.

“You shouldn’t be.”

Well that definitely wasn’t what he expected. Probably something like ‘you should be’ or ‘not yet, but you will be’.

Then he heard movement as someone stood, and then the dull thud of footsteps behind him.

Lance attempted to sit up and spin around in one swift motion, but found that he couldn’t move at all; he wasn’t stuck, but it was as if he couldn’t control any part of his body below his neck.

He saw white out of the corner of his eye before a shadow cast over him in the faded purple light, and he shifted his gaze to look almost directly above him.

He shouldn’t have been surprised but was to see that it was Lotor standing less than a meter away, leaning in slightly to examine Lance.

“You were unconscious for almost twelve hours,” Lotor spoke first.

“I can’t move,” Lance responded stupidly.

A soft huff of breath came from Lotor, as if something was humorous.

“Yes, that is for your own safety,” Lotor paused, and then the smallest of smiles appeared on his face as he continued, “But mostly mine.”

Lance said nothing. He still couldn’t move his body, and he pretended as though he couldn’t form an expression, either.

“Do you know who I am?”

Lance averted his eyes to stare directly at the ceiling. “Prince Lotor,” he had debated whether to answer truthfully or pretend to be in the dark but he decided on the former, “Zarkon’s son.”

“Do you know who you are?” Lance repressed a scoff at such a ridiculous question.

“Lance McClain,” he answered, “I am the bl- red ... paladin of voltron.”

He almost forgot. Without his blue armor on, dressed in nothing but this black galra combat ensemble, it was even more confusing. Blue paladin, red paladin, he couldn’t decide.

“I am a paladin of Voltron,” he repeated.

Lotor was silent for a moment before he stepped away, and Lance didn’t try to follow him with his eyes.

“Perfect,” he heard the man mutter to himself, but it didn’t sound at all like sarcasm.

There were only several footsteps when Lotor stopped, out of Lance’s peripheral vision but no doubt only a meter or two away. It was dead silent for only a moment before a machine that Lance couldn’t see whirled to life; the noise eventually died down to a low rumble.

“Don’t fight this.”

Then, searing pain went through Lance’s upper arm, like someone had taken a blowtorch to one small section of his skin. He shut his eyes against the pain without getting a proper look at what was going on, and tried to move his arm away from whatever was burning him, but he still couldn’t move.

Then, the pain faded. With gritted teeth and clenched fists, he opened his eyes again, and would have jumped if it hadn’t been for the lack of mobility in his limbs at the sight of Lotor, who had returned to his place beside where Lance was lying.

Although his sight had gone slightly fuzzy, he could see that Lotor’s eyes glowed a subtle gold in the dark room, and his long white hair fell loosely over his shoulders. His ears were elongated- like Allura’s; that wasn’t normal for a Galra.

He averted his eyes to his upper arm, expecting a bloody gash, third degree burns, something . Instead, there was a needle in his skin, although he didn’t know how deep it was thrust into his skin. Attached to the needle was a slightly thicker tube, but as far as Lance could tell, nothing flowed through it. He felt dizzy and weak.

He let his head fall back onto the rest beneath it, but resisted the temptation to close his eyes.

“I’m going to ask you some questions.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a dull hiss, followed by the tantalizing sound of liquid slowly filling a container. Then, a muffled bubbling sound, and another quiet hiss.

Then, pain. So much pain.

There was no doubt in Lance’s mind that he screamed, but he didn’t remember it. In his mind, he thrashed around, fighting off whatever was hurting him, but, in reality, he could do nothing. This time the pain spread further than his arm, draining like liquid fire into his lungs and into his stomach.

Then slowly, the feeling left him, and all that was left was the sound of flowing liquid, his own heavy breathing, and the soft humming of a distant engine.

“Do you know where you are,” Lotor’s tone was the same as it had been just moments before, as if he hadn’t just tortured a person.

Lance didn’t hear his words over his last exhale, and Lotor repeated his question once more until Lance responded.

“On a...Lance’s breathing was deep but rapid, and he was afraid for a moment that he might hyperventilate before he repeated the woman’s words from earlier, “Galra stealth cruiser.”

Lance’s eyes were screwed shut, and he was unable to read Lotor’s expression when he asked another question.

“How were you delivered here?”

“I-I was…” Lance trailed off; he tried to think about what had happened, but it was as if his memory had grown foggy.

Without finishing his words, he reluctantly turned his head slightly and opened his eyes, turning his gaze downward to look at his arm. The needle remained, but the gray tube to which it was connected was no longer empty; flowing through the clear apparatus was a liquid, a thick, bubbly substance.

“Can you not remember?” Lotor spoke again, pulling Lance from his hazy thoughts.

Lance blinked twice, hard, but forgot altogether what he was thinking.

As if that was an affirmative answer, Lotor continued. “You were badly injured in a fight on Base-273,” he told him.

Lance paused, resorting to focusing his gaze on the plain metal ceiling meters above his head.

“I’m not injured,” was all he could think to say; Lotor was right, he didn’t remember.

“Our first priority was to heal your wounds.”

Lance nodded.

“Thank you.”

The golden liquid continued to flow into and under Lance’s skin, it’s mesmerizing golden glow holding Lance’s attention until he paused, and turned his head again. He still couldn’t move his arms or legs, but that no longer concerned him. There was no danger to him here.

“Your injuries rendered you unconscious,” Lotor continued, “And the remaining members of… your team kidnapped one of my officers. They fled from the base and abandoned you inside of it.”

Lance remembered back what felt like it was only hours ago when he first awoke on the Galra ship. He remembered being sure that he was going to die when he saw Lotor’s face, but then the prince had said-

“You tried to trade me in exchange for you officer,” Lance began slowly, slowly returning his gaze to the man standing not a meter away, “but they wouldn’t.”

Lotor nodded, a somber expression etched onto his face, but didn’t speak. Maybe he was waiting for Lance to continue.

The sound of pulsing liquid continued to ring in Lance’s ear. He had a fleeting thought that this golden liquid was replacing his blood.

“What…” he trailed off, speech beginning to slur, “is this stuff?”

“It will make you stronger,” Lotor answered immediately, evidently expecting the question, “ We are going to make you stronger.”

“...why?”

“So that you,” Lotor began, the soft glow of his eyes (which were pretty much all Lance could make out of him at this time) shifting to somewhere behind where Lance lay, “Can make Voltron regret abandoning you.”

Lance shut his eyes for a moment, taking in the Prince’s words, and his eyebrows furrowed in muddled thought when they opened again, “Regret how.”

His voice was surprisingly steady now.

“It was their mistake to leave you behind,” Lotor had retreated from Lance’s .peripheral vision, and he now had nothing to focus on but the man’s words, the sound mixed with that of continually pulsing liquid into his body, “They don’t value your talent, your strength - we could use you.”

Lance narrowed his eyes at the unsaid suggestion. “Y-you’re the leader of the Galra empire,” he tried to lace his voice with fury, but there was only a weak trickle of distaste, “I will not help you to enslave the universe.”

Lotor clicked his tongue twice, and Lance imagined the gesture accompanied with the disappointed shaking of the man’s head.

“My goal,” Lotor’s voice had a different tone to it now, that of a leader, “Is to rebuild the Galra Empire to what it once was; my attempts are hindered only by my father, who continually questioned my authority, and Voltron , who consistently disrupt my efforts with unprovoked attacks on outposts and Galra colonies on planets within my territory. Only one of those remains in my path.”

Lance pictured Voltron in his mind, five lions, a ginormous weapon; doing so was much easier than envisioning the five people within it. In that moment, Voltron’s mission seemed so simple. Too simple; too one-dimensional. Lotor aimed to save the Galra empire, while Voltron seeked only to destroy it.

While Lance was silent, there was a loud thunk somewhere behind him as what sounded like a large switch was shifted, and then the sound of moving liquid faded until there was nothing but the steady hum of machinery. Lance screwed his eyes shut as he felt the needle removed from his skin.

“This is your first chance,” a voice echoed in his empty mind, “To choose a worthy cause alongside those who require and appreciate your skills, and make those who left you to perish regret doing so.”

Lance felt mobility return to the whole of his body, and he was able to slowly but surely return to a sitting position.

“It will also be your last. Choose wisely.”

There was a quiet hissing sound that sounded distant to Lance as the door the lab slid open, and a moment later it closed. Lotor’s last words echoed in his ears.

Choose wisely.

Choose a worthy cause alongside those who require and appreciate you.

Make those who left you to perish regret doing so.

Lance wasn’t sure how long he had been kept in that lab, but only minutes ago he was returned to his cell. Once the doors closed behind him, he collapsed to the ground; the cool metal felt good against his sweat-coated skin. As soon as the euphoria left him, however, thoughts flooded his mind.

He would show Voltron that he was stronger than any of them ever imagined.

He would make them regret leaving him behind.

He would make them regret everything.

Chapter Text

“The results from the blood test I took from the prisoner came back,” Pidge’s voice sounded over the hall, voice inexpressive but wavering slightly, “You need to see this.”

Keith and Shiro were the last ones to reach the medical bay after Pidge’s announcement; Coran, Allura, and Hunk were surrounding Pidge and the console on which she looked to be examining something, while the Galra woman- Acxa, was sitting on a step, knees near her chest and arms resting on her bent legs.

Keith’s first thought was that it wasn’t safe to have this Galra free in the castle, but he knew that there must have been someone watching her, and it wasn’t exactly safe to cryofreeze a person for short intervals at a time.

She had been stripped of her dark Galra armor and was now clad in a fitting black battle suit that must have been worn under it. The black metal clasps that had previously stood in her hair had been removed also, and it now hung messily, barely past the woman’s shoulders. To his surprise, the woman’s eyes had fixed onto him and followed him as soon as he had entered the room. Keith could see the exhaustion shown within them, but again there was no fear in her expression.

He refused to lose his gaze on the woman until he was directly addressed.

“Keith, come over here.”

He obeyed, approaching Pidge, and as he did so he began examining the contents of the holographic screen in front of her. There were numbers and tables and calculations Keith couldn’t even begin to understand; he was a pilot, not a scientist, after all.

“So… what did you want to tell us?” Hunk asked, standing behind Pidge and easily peering over the girl’s shoulder.

“Do you see this?” Pidge’s voice was unwavering, but unnaturally stoic.

She pointed to a diagram that Keith immediately identified as a strand of DNA. That was about all he could tell.

“This strand has three backbones,” Pidge began to explain, “Which is something I’ve come to expect from Galra DNA.”

“ Shocking ,” someone mumbled nearby, and it took Keith a second to realize that it was the Galra woman who had spoken; he would have glared, but she was only staring off, gaze unfocused.

“Okay,” Keith trailed off, giving a weak but affirmative nod when Pidge looked across the console directly at him.

“But see, these,” she dragged her finger across the diagram, “Are adenine and cytosine- the nitrogenous bases you’d find in our DNA.”

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment, but then his eyes widened. The others seemed to make a connection as well, as everyone seemed to freeze; then, simultaneously, everyone looked up, raising their gazes to the woman whose DNA they were examining, who was still sitting three or four meters away- Axca.

She turned her head when she noticed all of the eyes trained on her. Perhaps once she examined all five of their expressions, all varying in degrees of shock, she pushed herself to her feet, her stance defensive.

“What?” She spoke quickly, eyes darting between the five of them, eyebrows furrowed, “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

There was silence for a tick that felt as though it was a quintant before Hunk spoke, ignoring the woman’s questions. “But if her DNA is mostly Galra, but part of it is just like ours; doesn’t that mean she’s...” he trailed off, voice fading into the silence of the others.

“Human.”

The word seemed to linger in the air, hanging over all of them until their complete meaning seemed to sink in.

Acxa’s eyes had widened, but her expression remained nonplussed. “You mean…” she paused, mouth falling slightly ajar, “My blood is part… you? ”

Her last few words were laced with disgust; Keith rolled his eyes in response. “I’m half Galra,” he admitted, residual surprise in his voice, “You don’t see me moaning and groaning, do you ?”

The woman seemed to ignore his sarcastic tone and raised an eyebrow at his words. “You don’t look very Galra.”

“You don’t look very human,” Keith’s tone was flat, having given up on saying anything of importance.

She narrowed his eyes at him, a low growl emanating from her throat. “I wouldn’t know,” she muttered, then averted her gaze to the tile and lowered her voice, “At least, not s-”

“Oh no.”

Her words were interrupted when Pidge spoke, and Keith whipped around at her ominous words. “What’s wrong?” Shiro beat him to the punch, asking exactly what he was thinking.

Pidge looked up and around at all of those, as if she didn’t know she had even spoken aloud. “Well, I mean, it’s not bad , per se,” she shrugged, looking anywhere but Keith, he noticed, “It’s just not exactly what you might want to hear given the situation… it’s important, just a bit-”

“Spit it out, Pidge!”

“-surprising,” the girl squeaked, then shook her head, returning her attention to her console, diagrams still filling almost every corner of the screen.

“Have you ever seen your DNA?” Her dark tone had returned, and the fact that she was obviously talking to Keith made him nervous.

Despite this, Keith narrowed his eyes at her. “ No. ”

“Come here.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Just tell me, Pidge,” he was becoming a bit more agitated with every passing second, “I already know I’m part Galra.”

Keith folded his arms, unmoving; Pidge seemed to have a solution for that, however, and rolled her eyes before spinning the holographic screen 180 degrees until Keith could easily see it.

“Your DNA,” Pidge spoke bluntly, and reached over the lip of the screen to point, then shifted her finger to the opposite side, “ Acxa ’s DNA.”

Keith dropped his expression. “I’m a pilot, not a scientist, Pidge.”

This was apparently not the response that Pidge wanted, as she huffed out an exasperated breath and dropped her arms to her sides. “Half of your DNA is identical!” She raised her hands again in an intelligible gesture of frustration, “You’re related !”

“We’re both Galra, s…” Keith had begun to say, but trailed off as Pidge finished speaking.

Everyone else had gone silent as well.

“Well that was… climactic,” Hunk said quietly, but there was no response.

Acxa had whipped around from her view of the floor, staring at them all incredulously, glancing briefly at Keith before staring back at Pidge. Her shock quickly turned to irritation. “I don’t have any family left,” she muttered, glaring, but then her expression fell completely, and her mouth was slightly ajar.

“Unless…” she trailed off, and her eyes found Keith after only a moment, “But you can’t -”

She cut herself off, voice becoming breathless, and her eyes searched Keith’s face for several dragging moments.

“I-I can’t be what?” Keith’s eyes had widened slightly, thoroughly confused at this point.

Suddenly, Acxa threw herself to her feet, startling the other six in the room. Then she turned on Keith, and he was almost worried that she was going to attack him until she sniffed once; for a moment, he thought she was going to cry, but tears never came.

“Your mother,” She spoke softly, breaking another drought of silence, “You’ve never met her.”

Keith hesitated at the simplicity of the statement, but then nodded slowly. “I, um… grew up with my dad,” he admitted, voice uncharacteristically small, “At least until-” he cleared his throat”-yeah.”

Acxa shut her mouth, frowning, and averted her gaze again to the floor. “I never knew my father,” she admitted.

There was silence again. Then, when there was no response from Keith, she turned to look at him.

“It’s been a long time, brother.”

Keith’s head snapped up.

“Almost twenty years.”

Before Keith could respond, he heard Shiro clear his throat behind him. “Come on,” he spoke, beckoning the other paladins as well as Allura and Coran, “I think we should get back to work.”

Allura looked back at Keith before turning her back to him completely, obviously concerned, but he gave her a slight nod, signalling that everything would be fine.

Soon, everyone had left; Keith and Acxa were left alone, in silence, still standing several meters from one another.

“I never had a sibling,” Keith spoke first, arms straight at his sides, “I would have known .”

Acxa’s harsh exterior from minutes before had melted slightly; her arms were still crossed defensively over her chest, but her expression had softened significantly.

“You were so young,” but she responded just as coldly, “I don’t expect you to remember.”

Before Keith could respond, Acxa shook her head furiously. “It might not even be the same boy,” she muttered, seemingly talking to herself, “But there are so few galra-human hybrids…”

She trailed off, and then looked back up at Keith. “You look the same,” her voice was flat, “Same eyes, same black h-”

“Stop! Stop talking about me like,” Keith released an exasperated breath, taking a step backwards, “Like you know me. You don’t. ”

Suddenly Keith wished that Shiro and the others hadn’t left.

Acxa’s slight frown disappeared as she bared her teeth at Keith, dropping her crossed arms to her sides.

“You were a child ,” she hissed, “When Mother and I left Earth.”

Keith’s gaze snapped up once again to the woman in surprise.

How did she know about earth?

“This could all be a trick,” Keith’s voice was low and accusing, “You’re our prisoner... and you’re Galra.”

“And your friend is our prisoner,” Acxa shot back, and Keith glared at her even harder, “And you are Galra; we could go back and forth all day.”

Keith unclenched the fingers he hadn’t realized had formed into fists at his sides and frowned.

“Tell me,” he began, “Tell me your story, and we will see if you are telling the truth,”

“Even if you don’t believe me,” she responded bitterly, “The green paladin has said that half of our genetic material is identical. Whether you like it or not, we share blood.”

This woman had assisted in Lance’s kidnapping, and while Keith often blamed himself for many things, the only thing he would love better would be to blame this woman. From the dark purple hue of her eyes and her hard-plated Galra armor to her long and thin hair, she was so obviously a hybrid, but she was on the other side. She was everything that Keith might have been and could be, the side of himself that he tried hardest to hide, and he hated it.

“ Talk,” Keith was resisting the urge to grit his teeth as he spoke, “Before I tell Shiro that you attacked me, and we cryofreeze you.”

Acxa’s eyes widened slightly at the threat, either from fear or rage, but Keith felt a surge of satisfaction at that.

“If I talk,” she began, standing up straighter and crossing her arms again over her chest, “You must only listen, or I will end up in your prison chamber, and you will stand in your healing pod.”

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, pursing his lips in silent defiance, but also willing her to begin.

Acxa sighed, dropping her arms to her sides, and turned before taking several steps to sit herself on on the steps in front of the healing pod she had stumbled from vargas earlier. Her gaze fell away from Keith to land on the floor a meter ahead of her.

“I was born on earth,” she began quickly, “To a Galra woman named Neveah, and a human man, called Nathan Kogane.”

Keith inhaled silently, allowing Acxa to continue.

“The majority of Galra hybrids retain the physical traits of the opposite species,” she explained, frowning, “I appeared human for several years until… it was obvious that I couldn’t stay any longer. My mother and I left when-”

“How old were you?” Keith asked, and when Acxa whipped around to look at him when he interrupted, he remembered her warning and mumbled, “Sorry,”

She turned away from him again. “I was five years old,” she answered, “That must have been nearly seventeen years ago, as I said.”

Keith frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he narrowed his eyes accusingly, “I’m eighteen.”

Acxa nodded once, still avoiding Keith’s gaze, which pierced that side of her face. “You were already born,” she responded quietly, “But you can’t remember me, can you.”

When there was no response from Keith, not that either one of them expected one, she continued.

“My m- our mother had no interest in supporting Zarkon in his fight for the universe,” she explained, voice growing increasingly somber, “I grew up on a small rebel colony, near Balmera 19-Bet-”

“You were rebels?” Keith almost shouted, ignoring a second glare from the woman.

“I was a child ,” Acxa hissed back, “I did nothing, and mother worked as a manual laborer in the engineering plants in exchange for our safety.”

Keith said nothing.

“Our colony was discovered,” Acxa coughed once before continuing, “We had no defensive capabilities. There was nothing we could do. Then the Galra sent down soldiers and-”

To Keith’s utter shock, Acxa’s voice cracked slightly, and she paused for several moments.

“They took those away from me that I had known all my life,” she continued, voice stable but wavering, “And they took my mother.”

She stopped again, and instead of silence between them, Keith could hear her slightly shallow breathing.

Then, after what must have been half a dobosh, Acxa turned to look Keith in the eyes. “Do you believe me?” She asked, surprising Keith with the question.

He paused, mouth slightly ajar. “This isn’t… possible ,” he nearly breathed the words, “Dad would have told me if I had- if I had a sister.”

Before Acxa could respond Keith continued.

“You don’t look human, besides, everything... except for your skin color.”

“Our mother w-”

“If I was your brother, how come I never saw you again?” Keith started again.

“It wasn’t safe to c-”

“And you’ve been on Lotor’s side this whole time ! And he betrayed y-”

“Do not speak to me about betrayal, ” Acxa hissed suddenly, startling Keith with the unexpected interruption, but then she looked away again.

Acxa sighed, and took a seat on the stairs again, narrowing her eyes at the floor.

“ You don’t need to believe me,” to Keith’s surprise, her voice was cold.

This women knew the name of Keith’s father and his mother, whom Keith had never known. Besides the color of her skin, she appeared human, much more so than any female galra Keith had faced in combat.

She had left earth seventeen years ago when she was five years old, and Keith was too young to remember it, yet he was already born. That checked out.

She fought under Lotor, but if her story was true, her loyalties did not lie with Zarkon and his empire, but with Lotor himself.

“I believe you.”

The words left Keith’s mouth as he thought them, surprising both Axca and himself.

“I’m glad that y-”

“But it doesn’t matter ,” Keith interrupted, narrowing his eyes slightly at the woman, “You chose your side, and I chose mine.”

Acxa opened her mouth to reply, but then paused.

“I’m the only family you have left,” her voice was low, and oddly toneless; she seemed to be running through several emotions as she spoke to him, “Our mother is dead.”

Keith glanced back up at her. “How.” It was more a statement than a question.

Acxa’s eyes did not meet his as she answered. “When we were captured by the Galra, we were separated. Mother was sent with the many adults away to mine crystals; I was only an adolescent, so me and several other girls were sent...”

She stopped and cleared her throat, averting her gaze from where Keith was watching her, and continued. “I never saw her again.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed slightly. “How do you know if she’s dead if you’ve never-”

“I’ve seen the records!” She snapped, staring back at Keith, just as frustrated as the latter, “She is dead . She died three years after we were captured, long before I came to know Lotor.”

Keith’s eyes furrowed, expression changing from frustration to curiosity. “If you were a prisoner,” he began, looking at her, “How did you…”

Acxa raised her eyebrows at him. “Join Lotor?” She shook her head slowly, “I owed him that much- I still do; that is all I wish to say.”

Then, she pushed herself from the stairs to her feet, turning to face Keith.

“I wish to speak to the black paladin,” she crossed her arms and said nothing more.

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Anything you want to say,” he began, “You can say to me.”

Acxa chuckled briefly, looking away from the paladin. “I wish to bargain for assistance in the return of the blue paladin,” she eyed him briefly, “If that is not what you want, you may return me to this prison pod you speak so fondly of.”