Archive of Our Own

Lance stared into his drink, considering his next move. He could either ask a random alien of indeterminate gender (and race) to teach him how to dance in their preferred style, or he could bother one of his teammates…and at the moment, the second of those two options was looking the most attractive.

Pidge sat alone at a table near the edge of the ballroom, idly playing with the delicate silver bracelet on her wrist, legs crossed and foot jiggling as she faced the rest of the room. Allura had very strongly discouraged – forbidden – her from bringing anything to entertain her when conversation wasn’t enough, and from the glazed look in Pidge’s eyes, the consequences were starting to show.

Lance smirked, an idea taking hold, and sauntered over to Pidge, determined to relieve her of her boredom. “Pidge,” he said, sitting in the empty chair beside her. In what he hoped was a casual gesture, he propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. “How are you this fine evening?”

“I’m bored,” Pidge confessed.

Lance blinked; he hadn’t expected her to admit it so easily. But he recovered quickly, as this only made Operation:  Entertain Pidge that much more straightforward to implement.

“I can see that,” he said. He nudged her leg with his foot. “So why don’t we go do something else?”

Pidge glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s explore this beautiful castle!” Lance suggested cheerfully. “I mean, the Echidnae consider this a ruin by their standards, but by Earth’s?” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Imagine what we can find, Pidge.”

Pidge smiled and met his eyes. “I’m in,” she said.

“Hmm, so quick to break the rules, I see,” Lance teased as he stood up.

“You forget how we met?” she asked with a snort.

“Not at all, but from what your brother’s told me about before—”

“I’m going to kill him,” Pidge interrupted with a scowl.

Lance laughed and took her hand as he led her around the outskirts of the ballroom, past knots of interesting faces and figures deep in conversation. “But then you’ll be depriving the rest of us of embarrassing childhood stories!” he protested. “Who else is going to tell us about Katie’s First Microwave Fiasco?”

“For the last time,” Pidge grumbled, “I wanted to see for myself that putting aluminum foil in a microwave would set it on fire.”

They paused at the ballroom entrance, and Lance elbowed her in the side, grinning widely while Pidge covered her red face. Really, it was amazing how bringing up her childhood could so quickly embarrass her, or it would be—

“You know, Lance,” Pidge said with a sly smile of her own, “I’m sure your multitude of relatives can paint a picture of you.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” Pidge said gleefully. “Just know that, when we make it back to Earth, you have another thing coming.” She poked him in the chest and swept past him out of the ballroom.

Lance stood there, momentarily stunned and face warm, but when she stopped a few paces down the hallway, she glanced over her shoulder and beckoned for him to join her.

The sound of discordant harmonies and syncopated rhythms – a bizarre sort of jazz music favored by their hosts – faded behind them as they walked down the first floor hallway, past balconies open to a brilliantly illuminated city celebrating their liberation from the Galra.

“So…” Lance stuffed his hands into his pockets as they aimlessly wandered. “No interesting scientists here?”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “The Echidnae scientists are so arrogant they wouldn’t even talk to me,” she complained. “I tried to ask a few of them questions about those glowing balls of light they’ve got everywhere, but they were all like if you don’t understand the basics of photonics then we can’t help you.” She crossed her arms and huffed. “They didn’t even give me a chance to tell them that maybe I do! Quiznaking asshats.”

Lance smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe they’re intimidated by your intelligence, Pidge. Maybe they feel threatened by you.”

Pidge pulled away from him – making his heart sink unpleasantly – and said, “Now you sound like my parents.”

“Uh, sorry?” he tried.

She shrugged and rubbed her bare arms, and Lance then realized they stood right in front of an open door, the breeze drifting in almost too cold to be comfortable.

“Let’s keep moving,” he suggested.

Pidge nodded and followed him up a set of spiral stairs tucked away in the corner.

Lance ran his hands over the banister, impressed by its smooth texture. The staircase, winding both up and down, was too narrow for him and Pidge to walk side-by-side, but he could hear her footsteps just behind him as she kept pace.

At the top of the landing, a dimly lit hallway greeted them, lined with those small orbs of light that Pidge mentioned. As far as Lance could tell, they weren’t a form of technology but a feature of the planet itself, like a native species of animal but…

“They’re not alive,” Pidge said, extending a hand towards the one closest to her, as if to touch it.

“How can you tell?” Lance wondered. He reached for another, his eyes widening in surprise when his fingers passed through something as insubstantial as air. “What the quiznak?” He tried again, but all he succeeded in doing was sticking his hand in a patch of light.

Pidge chuckled at his reaction as she stood beside him, watching. “Just a guess,” she admitted. “They look like a funny cluster of photons, maybe vibrating at different frequencies since they come in different colors, and with just enough mass that air currents affect them since they don’t seem to stay put, but—” She cut herself off, shooting a sideways glance at Lance, and said, “Sorry, I’ve just never seen anything like them.”

Lance leaned towards the one in front of him, the one he’d failed to touch, with narrowed eyes. This one glowed a dim yellow, like an old-fashioned lightbulb with a filament, as did almost all the orbs lining this hall.

“Why do you think there weren’t any in the ballroom?” he asked Pidge with a sideways glance.

Pidge’s eyes widened. “Holy quiznak,” she hissed, gaping at him. “I didn’t even notice that.”

Lance smirked and smoothed down the collar of his suit jacket. “I saw something you didn’t.”

She elbowed him in the side, looking unimpressed and annoyed with his gloating, then said, “Maybe it has something to do with present light sources.” She ‘poked’ another one with a finger – or attempted to – and added, “Maybe they disappear – or are overwhelmed by other light sources – in well-lit places.”

“Hey, you’re better at this sort of theorizing than I am,” Lance said with a shrug.

“Hypothesizing,” Pidge said.

“Hypo-what now?” Lance said, blinking at her.

“I was hypothesizing,” Pidge explained. “You can’t have a scientific theory until you have substantial proof to back it up, whereas with a hypothesis you only really need early preliminary findings to—” She sighed and said, “Right, because you care about this.”

“What?” Lance said. He shook his head – he might’ve zoned out for a bit while she rambled – and waved his hands. “I was listening…kind of.”

“Right, well…” Pidge seemed to brush off her disappointment – whether in the lack of information they had on the glowing orbs or in him – as she grabbed his arm, her fingers encircling his elbow. “We were exploring?”

Lance grinned, relieved, and said, “We were. But oh, what other mysteries shall we find?”

Pidge smiled. “I don’t know,” she said, “but I can’t wait to find out.”

Lance gladly let Pidge drag him down the short hallway, past locked doors – and these were, incidentally, the first doors with actual locks that required keys they'd seen in what was probably years – with knobs that they jiggled, and past more orbs that illuminated a space that, he now realized, would be pitch-dark without them.

The only unlocked door on the hall stood open at the end and led out onto a wide balcony that looked out over the castle’s entryway, adjacent to the ballroom. They approached the balcony railing and peered down at the scattered people milling around just outside the ballroom, their population as colorful and diverse as the clothes they wore.

“Do you think Allura and Shiro will notice if we miss Prime Minister Nunez’s speech?” Pidge asked, eyes fixed on the Echidna Prime Minister himself as he spoke to a younger member of his parliament.

Lance shrugged and said, “Not if we get back in time.”

“Think we will?” Pidge flashed him a brief smirk that filled his stomach with warmth. “I don’t know about you, but I have a feeling his speech will be the dullest part of the evening.”

“So you’re saying you want to definitely skip that?” Lance said, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, definitely.”

“How unprofessional of us!” he said. He laughed and nudged her in the side.

“How unbecoming of Paladins of Voltron,” Pidge added, smiling so widely her teeth showed.

Lance frowned at her. “Quiznak, do you think we could hurt the Coalition if we do skip the speech?”

Pidge shrugged and stepped away from the railing, looking unbothered. “I doubt it,” she said. “Besides, we’ve gotten away with worse.”

Lance snorted as they walked along the balcony, searching for another unlocked door while recalling his teammates’ (and his, if he was being honest) many faux pas – some harmless, some not – at previous events. And if they happened to be caught outside during the highlight of the evening…well, he and Pidge could simply claim they lost track of time.

“Aha!” Pidge exclaimed from several meters ahead of him. She shoved her shoulder into a door that resisted her, forcing it open.

“I could’ve done that,” Lance said with a raised eyebrow.

“And what fun would that be?” She raised an arm and flexed her bicep. “I have guns too.”

He snorted but didn’t argue, only smiled fondly, as she led the way through a hallway well-furnished with intricate rugs made of some wooly material. Their feet sunk into the fabric, the sound of their footsteps muffled.

More orbs – these red – greeted them, but here they drifted in the same direction as them, so slowly Lance wouldn’t have noticed if they weren’t pulsing.

“Hey, Pidge,” he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder and get her attention. When she turned to him, eyes wide and questioning, he pointed to an orb as it hovered past his head. “Are these…pulsing?”

Pidge narrowed her eyes at it and hesitantly nodded. “Strange,” she said. “Well, it’s all strange, but that’s even weirder.” Her gaze followed the trail of red orbs down the hallway, which curved until it was out of sight. “You want to follow them?”

“Huh?” Lance glanced from the orb to Pidge. “You think they’re going somewhere?”

Pidge smiled, already taking a step. “Only one way to find out.”

Together, they walked along the winding hallway, their steps moving them faster than the orbs that seemed to float with an invisible air current. The further they went, the more the orbs’ colors changed, washing out from a vivid red that seemed to bathe the walls with blood, to a softer orange that cast a warm glow over Pidge’s skin.

The shadows danced and flickered animatedly, ornamentations on the walls and intricate doorknobs casting them. Lance’s and Pidge’s shadows shifted as they swept past orbs, playing and overlapping and moving in mesmerizing patterns. The sight tickled at his brain, reminding him of being underwater, snorkeling just off the coast at home while the sun cast light through the waves and onto the sands, the reflections of reflections rippling just beneath the surface.

Something about it all made his breath catch in his lungs and his heart speed up faster than the pace Pidge set required. He glanced sideways at her, face growing warm when she stared back.

“Lance,” Pidge said, halting, “are you okay?”

“Huh?” Lance blinked at her. “Yeah, I’m…better than okay, I think.”

“You really zoned out there,” she said, peering at him suspiciously. “Hurt yourself thinking?”

“I did not!” Lance crossed his arms. “I’ll have you know I’ve been thinking for a very long time. My whole life, in fact!”

Pidge chuckled. “Oh, really?” She bounced on her feet, leaning ever so slightly towards him. “Then why is it that you still do stupid things?”

Lance raised an eyebrow at her and said, “Isn’t it obvious? Because I want to! And what about you, huh?”

“What about me?” Pidge deadpanned.

“Like you haven’t done anything dumb.”

“I never said I never had,” she retorted, rolling her eyes.

Lance laughed. “Yeah, sneaking into the Garrison and pretending to be a boy was pretty dumb, huh?”

Pidge smirked. “And yet, you fell for it.”

Lance nearly choked on his spit. “Y-you—I had no reason to question you. That would’ve been rude! Etiquette protected you from my suspicions!”

Pidge snorted, but she still looked amused, so Lance considered it a victory of sorts. “Right…like you could’ve done any better.”

“At pretending to be a girl?” He quirked an eyebrow at her, unsure where she was going with this.

“No, at hiding your identity without making anyone suspicious.”

“Oh, Pidge,” Lance said, leaning towards her, “I happen to be an excellent liar.”

“A worthy accomplishment,” Pidge scoffed, “but I’ll bite:  lie to me.”

“W-what?” Lance’s eyes widened in shock. “Why?”

“While we follow these…glowing orb things,” Pidge gestured to the orange one just now floating past her ear, “you can tell me two truths and a lie. I have to pick out the lie.”

“What do I get if you can’t?” Lance said.

Pidge hummed, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “If you win, I’ll do your chores around the Castle for the next five quintants.”

“At least seven,” Lance tried with a shake of his head.

“Nope,” said Pidge.

“But this game was your idea,” Lance pointed out. “At least sweeten the deal for me.” He smirked at her, holding her gaze, until she sighed.

“Fine,” she said. “What do you want?”

Lance stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and continued on their way down the curving hallway. “How about you finally clean your room?” At Pidge’s instant look of dismay, he added, “Or at least clear the floor. If I have to get poked with one more wire…”

Pidge glared at him, but then offered her hand. “Fine,” she said. “But if I win, the Mercury GameFlux II moves into my room.”

Lance gasped, jaw dropping. “No, absol—” But at the pointed frown on Pidge’s face, he rolled his eyes and said, “Fine.”

“I knew you’d agree,” she said with a smirk.

Lance grumbled, “Whatever.” But he grasped Pidge’s small hand in his, and they shook on it.

“Perfect,” Pidge said, grinning as she withdrew her hand and carried on down the hall. “So tell me about yourself, Lance.”

Her teasing tone of voice brought a flush to Lance’s face, but he cleared his throat as he thought of two truths and a lie, of truths so unbelievable they could easily be mistaken as false.

Though perhaps subtlety would be the way to go…

“So…” Lance stretched his arms over his head, feigning nonchalance and pretending he wasn’t unnerved by the rapt attention Pidge paid him. “First of all, I have five older siblings. Second, I…no longer have a crush on Allura.” He swallowed and told his last ‘fact’, “And last but not least, I’m double-jointed.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him. “There’s no such thing as being double-jointed,” she said.

“Really? Is that what you think I lied about then?” Lance asked hopefully.

“Well, not if you think being double-joined is real,” Pidge said with a shrug. She frowned, thinking, her gaze distant until they snapped back to his face. “The lie is that you no longer have a crush on Allura.”

Lance smiled and pumped his fist. “Aha, nope!” he crowed. “The lie is that I have five older siblings; I have four.”

Pidge’s jaw dropped almost comically. “But—wait—what?” Then she prodded him in the chest with one slender finger. “Did you tell me two lies?”

“Just the one,” Lance reassured her. When she continued to gape at him, stunned, he rolled his eyes and said, “Is it really so hard to believe, Pidge?”

Pidge tore her eyes away from him, instead fixing them on an orb with a color that edged towards yellow. “I…I don’t know,” she said, less indignant this time. “You’ve liked her for, well, as long as we’ve been out here.”

Lance shrugged. “Eh, well, people change, right?”

“I guess,” Pidge agreed.

Lance watched her, unsure why she was so somber all of a sudden. “Are you okay, Pidge? It’s not like it’s that big of a deal.” Then he nudged her in the side. “Are you telling me you’ve never had a crush before, Pidge?”

“What?” Her cheeks reddened more than could be explained by any of the surrounding orbs of light.

He decided it was better to change the subject, so he said, “You owe me a clean floor now.”

“In my room?”

“Hey, no disputing a bet!” Lance retorted.

Pidge crossed her arms, mouth open for her own comeback, but before she could say anything a pair of voices drifted from down the hall, approaching from the direction they’d been headed.

“Quiznak,” Lance said.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” Pidge said.

“Thanks for the reminder,” he hissed, grabbing her wrist and tugging her back the way they came. The way the orbs pulsed at a higher frequency – more urgently – almost distracted him, but the sight of a door ajar caught his attention before either he or Pidge could question the phenomenon.

He swung the door open and pushed Pidge inside – she grumbled something about him manhandling her when she could walk herself, thank you very much, Lance – before backing in himself, shutting the door behind him. He turned the knob carefully to make as little sound as possible, exhaling a sigh of relief when the hinges didn’t squeak.

Even the room within held a single orb of light that threw shadows everywhere, its glow the green of sunlight shining through a forest canopy, but despite its low intensity, the dimensions of the space were easily visible.

They were in a closet.

Pidge stood right beside him, her shoulder brushing his arm, but not because she wanted to:  because there was no space for them to spread out.

“Great,” Lance mumbled.

“Shh!” Pidge said with a finger to her lips. She pointed at the door and put her ear to it, apparently unbothered by the tiny space they occupied.

Lance could pretend he was to, pretend that he didn’t feel too hot under his collar and that his heartbeat didn’t pick up, pretend that Pidge’s warmth pressed up against him didn’t muddle his thoughts. Instead he copied Pidge; the sooner those traveling down the hallway passed them, the sooner they could escape.

“…taking charge of security, Minister Hernan,” someone with a deep, gravelly voice was speaking.

“I already explained that the Prime Minister’s alliance with Voltron is detrimental to the Echidnae,” another, higher voice – possibly that of Minister Hernan – said. “Resuming our allegiance to the Empire may not be ideal, but it’s better for us in the long term, Major Kovrik.”

Pidge tugged on his sleeve, her eyes wide when he turned to look at her. Galra, she mouthed at him.

A chill ran down Lance’s spine, the conversation outside the closet door heavy with implication, and he refocused his attention as it continued:

“I’m glad you and I can see eye-to-eye, Minister,” said the Galra officer. “Unfortunately, the Prime Minister…?”

“We’re taking care of him tonight,” Minister Hernan reassured him. “Before his scheduled speech, and once we have control of him, we can control the audience…”

“And the Altean Princess and her Paladins will be just as vulnerable,” said Major Kovrik. “Yes, you’ve done well, Minister…”

Their voices faded as they moved on, leaving Pidge and Lance to exchange an alarmed glance.

“Quiznak,” Pidge hissed. “We have to tell Allura and Shiro.”

“Obviously!” Lance said. He reached for the doorknob and tried to turn it – only to meet resistance. “What the quiznak?”

“What?” Pidge asked.

“We’re…it’s stuck!” Lance said, his voice pitching higher. He jiggled the doorknob, but it refused to budge. “We’re locked in.”

“Let me try.” Pidge nudged him aside, her hair tickling his face in a way that might’ve been distracting if not for the impending ouster happening at the party they’d abandoned. She grabbed the doorknob in both hands and wrenched at it, practically growling when it disobeyed her will. “Quiznak.”

“Try shoving it open like you did that other door?” Lance suggested.

“It’s locked,” Pidge pointed out. “How the quiznak did that even happen?” She glared at him, her arms crossed.

“I don’t know!” Lance held his hands up. “It must lock on the outside, and I must’ve bumped it by accident when I opened the door!”

Pidge crouched, leaning against the wall. “Well, now we’re stuck, and we have crucial information.”

Lance sat across from her, pulling his legs up so that they didn’t touch as much…which was still unavoidable thanks to the cramped space. “We’re going to die in here.”

“No, we’re the ones that are going to survive,” Pidge pointed out. “We’ll have to avenge our friends, and it’ll be because we were the bored idiots that left the party.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lance muttered. “I wasn’t bored. I just wanted you to have some fun.”

“Well, I was until—wait, what?” Pidge blinked at him. “You suggested we ditch because I was bored?”

“Yeah?” Lance frowned at her. “What’s so surprising about that?”

Pidge shrugged, resting her chin on her knees and staring at the tiny bit of floorspace between them. “I don’t know, Lance.”

He waited for her to elaborate, to explain herself further, but when she didn’t, he nudged her with his toes.

She glanced up at him. “What’re we going to say when someone finally comes and rescues us?”

Lance shrugged, surprised by the change of subject. “That we got lost?”

Pidge snorted and said, “We weren’t allowed to move past the first floor.”

“Ah, well, we can say we followed the yellow brick orbs.” He pointed at the green orb occupying the closet with them, frowning when its pulsing slowed…almost as if it heard him. What kind of quantum quiznak is this?

“Yeah, I can tell those self-centered scientists that I was snooping around for information they wouldn’t give me.” Pidge laughed sarcastically. “I’m sure that’ll go over well with people we’re trying to make nice with.”

“Oh, and you have a better idea?”

Pidge smirked, face flushed. “Well, what are people usually doing when they’re found in closets?”

Lance frowned at her, confused, but something about her expression made his blood rush. “Hiding skeletons?”

Pidge laughed. “Quiznak, Lance.”

“What? You asked, and I answered!”

“That’s fair,” Pidge said. “But, uh, not exactly, no.”

“Then…?” Lance prompted, staring at her and unsure of why she wouldn’t look at him.

Her gaze then snapped back to his face, and she wondered, “Want to make out?”

“Wait, what?” Lance gaped at her. “T-that’s your idea?”

“It’s more convincing than we were following the yellow brick orbs!” Pidge waved her arms. “And people do that in closets all the time!”

“How would you know?” Lance demanded, an awful scenario of Pidge herself locked in the embrace of some random, faceless man entering his mind. “Have you ever been found doing that?”

Pidge blushed an even darker red as she glared at him. “No!”

“Then how—”

“I have an imagination, Lance!” she said. “I’ve read and heard stories! And if I had been found doing something like that, why the quiznak would you care?”

Lance opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He struggled to swallow around a sudden lump, uncomfortable under the fire in Pidge’s gaze, and finally said, “Maybe because I want to—”

The sudden dimming of the green orb distracted him, and Pidge said, “Wait, quiznak, someone must be outside.”

“How do you kn—”

Pidge cut Lance off by leaning across the gap between them and kissing him, her lips soft and warm on his. His hands jumped to her waist as he kissed her back, his eyes closing…right before an orange light filled the closet.

Pidge pulled away from Lance and glanced up at their intruder, leaving Lance to catch his breath while his heart tried its best to escape his chest. He stared at her, wide-eyed, barely hearing the words she and the newcomer exchanged through the blood rushing in his ears…

…until he noticed the gun pointed at Pidge’s forehead.

“I thought I heard voices in here,” the Echidna – the young one they saw speaking to Prime Minister Nunez earlier – said in the familiar voice of Minister Hernan. “And of course, when my people told me that not all five Paladins were accounted for—”

Lance smiled, forcing his temper under control at the sight of a weapon directed at Pidge, and pleasantly said, “Oh, I’m sorry, you caught us at a bad time, Minister.”

“Yes,” Pidge said, grabbing the collar of Lance’s shirt and tugging him towards her. “In case you couldn’t tell, this was what you would call a ‘passionate embrace’.” Her other hand formed air quotes.

Lance bit his lip to keep from snickering – he did not want to startle a devious gun-toting hedgehog-looking alien into shooting Pidge.

Minister Hernan’s quills quivered slightly, but her tone was even when she said, “Perhaps I overreacted.”

“Perhaps you did,” Pidge agreed.

“Even so, you should be downstairs,” she told them. “Prime Minister Nunez is about to start his speech.”

Pidge grinned at the minister. “Oh, we wouldn’t want to miss that, would we, Lance?” she asked.

“Oh, absolutely not, Pidge,” Lance said, heart nearly jumping into his throat.

But the minister didn’t lower her weapon, only backed away to give them access to the hallway as they slowly got to their feet. Pidge straightened her crooked dress while Lance smoothed his collar where she’d grabbed it. But he kept a wary eye on Minister Hernan, who seemed conflicted over which of them she ought to train her gun on.

Lance smiled disarmingly at her, widening his arms. “Minister, really, you needn’t worry about us,” he said.

Pidge crept around him, and he exhaled in relief as that placed his body between hers and the minister’s gun.

Minister Hernan only stared at him with beady black eyes, as if sizing him up. The orange and yellow orbs surrounding them seemed to pause as they floated before changing direction. Lance tracked one with his eyes, taking note of its steady motion as it drew closer before passing directly in front of the minister’s face.

She put a hand up, blinded by the pulsing light.

Pidge launched herself at the arm wielding a gun, and Lance jumped in to help her. While Lance twisted Minister Hernan’s arm behind her back, Pidge managed to confiscate the gun and point it at her.

“All right, now that we have control,” Lance said from behind the minister, his fingernails digging into her arm, “you’ll tell us how many people loyal to the Galra you have in on this scheme of yours.”

“I will not,” Minister Hernan said.

Lance blinked, surprised that she didn’t even bother to deny it. “Well, you really should,” he said. “It won’t go over well for you at all if you don’t; we’ve got a reputation to uphold, right?” He glanced at Pidge, who raised an eyebrow at him. “Pidge, tell her what we Paladins can do to her.”

Pidge said, “Uh, we can…”

“De-quill you!” Lance said when she hesitated. “Brutally and with a lot of prejudice.”

Pidge snorted but didn’t contradict him, which was probably its own sort of victory.

Unfortunately, Minister Hernan didn’t seem to buy it; she struggled against his hold as he steered her towards the wall, but when Pidge pressed the gun to her temple, she froze.

Lance exchanged a look with Pidge, who stared back at him with alarm. “You wouldn’t happen to have any…rope on you, would you?”

“Yes, Lance,” Pidge deadpanned, “I’m caring a whole coil of rope in the bodice of my dress.”

He rolled his eyes. “All right, just making sure.” To Minister Hernan, he said, “So you won’t tell us how many people you’ve got, but how long do we have until the speeches start?”

“By now…five doboshes.”

“Yeah, never mind the rope,” Lance said, pushing the minister away from him and grabbing Pidge’s wrist. They sprinted down the hall together, back in the way they came.

“You take the gun,” Pidge said, passing it to him.

“What?” Lance scrambled for a grip on the laser weapon.

“Your aim is better than mine,” she pointed out.

“But you’ll be unarmed,” he said as they reached the balcony that looked out over the entryway.

“I’ll be fine,” Pidge said.

“But—”

“Lance, we need a plan,” she interrupted. She went to the railing, Lance following closely behind her, and together they peered over. “Oh, quiznak.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed breathlessly.

The entryway was entirely empty of party guests in preparation for the speech, but several Echidnae roamed, hefting blasters nearer in shape to Lance’s bayard than to the gun they’d taken from Minister Hernan.

They ducked their heads beneath the railing, almost in tandem. “What do we do?” Pidge demanded, tone low as a whisper. “We need a plan before Minister Hernan raises the alarm.”

Lance raised his head just barely over the railing to peek below, biting his lip when a few more figures easily recognizable as Galra by their armor joined the armed Echidnae. “We have more company,” he informed Pidge.

“Great,” she grumbled. “Nothing to hack – stupid ancient castle – and only one gun between us. And we can’t even contact our team…”

“We can…disguise ourselves?” Lance suggested.

“We’re too short to pass as Galra even in armor.”

“Oh…yeah.” Lance frowned, staring around the balcony as if that would help him think of a plan, but his eyes caught on the orbs scattered around, on the way they all drifted in the same direction…across the balcony and towards the hallway that led back towards the spiral stairs. “Hey, Pidge,” he said.

“What?”

“Is there a basement here?”

Pidge frowned at him. “I…yeah, I think there is. If I remember from the tour they gave us, the basement is where the kitchens are, and where they survey everything, and—” Her eyes widened in realization. “They're monitoring the Prime Minister from downstairs.”

“Yep,” Lance agreed.

“Then let’s go.”

They crept along the balcony, and once in the hallway again, they practically sprinted along the hallway lined with orbs that pulsed yellow. Now every orb they passed pulsed a particular rhythm, drifting ahead of them and following in their footsteps and almost echoing their urgency.

Pidge beat him into the stairwell, slowing down as they took the stairs to avoid alerting their enemies. Lance kept glancing over his shoulder, wary of Minister Hernan or any other pursuit they could face.

When they reached the first floor landing, they kept descending further down, into an underground tunnel full of blue orbs…and Galra soldiers.

“Something tells me we should’ve kept Minister Hernan as a hostage,” Pidge hissed to Lance as a dozen blasters were trained on them.

Lance dropped his gun and raised his hands, Pidge copying him beside him as his heart thumped painfully. Then a new figure stepped forward, a broad-shouldered Galra officer wearing what looked like a pair of sunglasses.

“We were wondering when the two missing Paladins would show up,” said Major Kovrik.

Lance smiled cautiously, at least amused by the sight of the shades. “Ha, well, you know us…we’d never dare miss a speech.”

Kovrik’s teeth glinted in the light of the orbs. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for you to watch Prime Minister Nunez’s speech from here.”

Lance swallowed and glanced at Pidge from the corner of his eye. “Uh…what?”

The tip of a blaster prodded him in the back, nudging him further down the hall. A pair of helmeted Galra soldiers marched him and Pidge forward, all the way to a wide room with walls lined with screens – surveillance of the entire first floor, including the ballroom.

The screen focused on the stage in the ballroom displayed a podium and delegates from different members of the Voltron Coalition. Allura already stood at the podium, her diplomacy face on as she spoke to the party’s guests about peace and unity and freedom.

“No orbs here,” Pidge muttered from beside him, but before Lance could do much more than throw a questioning glance in her direction, a Galra soldier shoved her forward with enough force that she lost her balance, landing on her hands and knees.

“H-hey!” Lance exclaimed, leaning down to help her to her feet…at least until another soldier leveled a gun at his face.

“I’m fine,” Pidge reassured him with a smile.

Lance swallowed, but before he could say anything in response, Major Kovrik yelled, “No talking! Now, we watch the end of your so-called Coalition.”

Lance scowled at him, but despite the anger thrumming through his blood and the fear churning the contents of his stomach, he inhaled, the better to calm himself until he and Pidge could think of a way to escape and disrupt the impending coup.

“Where are you keeping the Prime Minister?” Pidge asked.

“Oh, he’s already been prepped,” Major Kovrik informed them cheerfully. He took off his shades, tucking them into his armor, and clasped his hands behind his back. He paced between them and the screens. “We already gave him his new speech.”

“And I’m sure it’s a great speech,” Lance said, voice full of irony.

“Yes,” said Major Kovrik, Lance’s tone apparently completely going over his head. He turned his back to him and Pidge to watch the end of Allura’s speech.

Lance bit his lip and darted his eyes at Pidge, smiling slightly when he found her looking at him already.

The lights, she mouthed at him.

Lance narrowed his eyes at her, confused about what the lights had to do with anything. If he scanned the room, he spotted no orbs, only the dim lights usually found aboard Galra ships. So? he silently replied to her, shrugging slightly.

Pidge scowled and nodded backwards, and when Lance glanced over his shoulder he saw a row of light switches and dimmers. He looked back at Pidge, who rolled her eyes and tiptoed backwards.

Ah, distraction time, Lance decided, and though he was still perplexed, he knew he could trust Pidge and her brain. He audibly cleared his throat, attracting the attention of a nearby Galra soldier, who glared at him, yellow eyes gleaming.

“So…how’s the weather on your home planet?” Lance asked…right before chastising himself for the tactless question.

The soldier said, “It’s nonexistent.”

Lance laughed nervously. “Oh, yeah! Then how’s the weather on your favorite planet?”

The soldier opened his mouth to answer, until another soldier snarled, “No talking!”

“But we were having such a nice—”

The room’s artificial lights shut off, and a multitude of violet orbs sprang into existence, casting their glow around the room. And all at once, every Galra soldier hissed, raising hands to shield their eyes from the new, natural illumination.

“Holy quiznak,” Lance breathed, but he didn’t give himself time to admire Pidge’s handiwork. He easily wrestled the blaster from the hands of the soldier he’d attempted to chat up, grinning at Pidge when he spotted her in the doorway with a blaster of her own already in hand.

The Galra soldiers were quick to recover though, either lowering tinted visors or slipping on the same standard shades that Major Kovrik wore. The esteemed officer himself stalked towards Lance, his heart pounding wildly, but before either could so much as raise a weapon, blaster fire erupted from behind Lance…

…and struck Major Kovrik in the forehead.

“Holy quiznak,” Lance repeated, jaw dropping as Major Kovrik fell, sunglasses slipping from his face. The whole room – human Paladin and Galra soldier – stared at his body, struck dumb by his sudden…death.

Lance unstuck his feet from the floor and turned to face Pidge, eyes widening when he saw her face twisted into a scowl. “Pidge?” he said.

Pidge shook her head, expression relaxing. She inhaled, shoulders shaking, and looked at him. “I’m fine,” she said. “I…we’ve done worse.”

Lance slowly nodded. “I—yeah, we have.” He walked over to her, resting his hands on her trembling shoulders, and added, “But now we have to go.”

“Right.” She looked past him, at the stunned – headless – soldiers watching them, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her rifle. “Anyone have anything to say about that?” When no response met them, Pidge led the way out of the surveillance room and back into the hall.

Lance kept pace with her, constantly glancing over his shoulder in case the soldiers at their back chose to pursue them. But between losing their commander and the orbs that faded from violet to blue, they held back.

They didn’t bother keeping quiet as they stormed up the spiraling staircase, in too much of a hurry for stealth. But before they emerged onto the landing, Pidge held her arm up and said, “The orbs aren’t going to take out the Echidnae like they did the Galra.”

“How did you figure that out?” Lance wondered, raising an eyebrow at her. “I mean, quiznak, Pidge, that was brilliant.”

Pidge smiled, looking pleased at the praise, and warmth filled Lance at the sight. She said, “Well, between the sunglasses and the artificial lights, it made sense.” Then she smirked and added, “I also saw Keith squinting when we were outside.”

Lance snorted. “Handy.”

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Pidge queried with a frown. “Why would a civilization with sentient light that naturally coalesces in the dark bother inventing other light sources?”

Lance blinked at her. “Holy quiznak,” he said, amazed.

“What?” Pidge said, her face reddening. She prodded his shoulder. “Much as I enjoy your praise, we don’t have time for compliments.” She returned her attention to the landing.

Lance copied her, scanning the entryway. He counted seven Echidnae soldiers between them and the ballroom’s back entrance, which would put them closest to the stage. “How long do you think we have?”

“Prime Minister Nunez’s speech will be the last,” Pidge said, “and Allura’s was the first.”

“So…?”

“And there was only one person between them.” Pidge frowned. “We need to go now. Can you lay down some cover fire as a distraction while I sneak around?”

“A-are you sure about that?” Lance asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Yeah, just follow me when you’re done,” Pidge said, waving a dismissive hand.

“Pidge—”

“Lance,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes and then smiling. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in the ballroom, okay?”

He met her eyes, round and brown and confident, but then he nodded and took careful aim at the nearest Echidna soldier. “I trust you’ll be fine,” he said.

Pidge touched his shoulder, and Lance fired his first shot.

The soldier flinched as the shot went wide, past them. They called out to their comrades, and while they moved, Pidge took the rest of the stairs quickly, running past them in their distraction.

Lance lined up his shots at random while she fled, but as she disappeared from his sight, he took more careful aim, directing blaster fire at the soldiers’ exposed knees while they approached. But he was in a hurry, the sooner to rejoin Pidge and keep himself from being cornered.

“Hey, you!” one of the soldiers yelled.

Lance shot them in the arm, and they lurched backwards.

His last target felled, Lance launched himself out of the stairwell and chased after Pidge, orbs fading from blue to green as they drifted in the same direction as him. He burst through the backstage entrance, but halted at the sight of several more treacherous Echidnae soldiers holding the room’s occupants hostage.

Heart pounding and breath short, his gaze zeroed in on Prime Minister Nunez, a gun pressed to his head by a rearmed Minister Hernan.

“Quiznak,” Lance gasped as the minister’s eyes found him.

“You should’ve killed me or taken me hostage,” Minister Hernan said.

“Yes, that would’ve solved everything,” Lance said disbelievingly.

“Lance!” a new, shocked voice interrupted. He scanned the room, his eyes widening when he caught sight of Allura crouching on the floor, brow furrowed with concern with…Pidge’s head pillowed in her lap.

His breath caught, and he lowered his blaster, distracted. “Pidge?”

“She’s…she’ll be fine,” Allura reassured him, scowling as an Echidna soldier nudged her shoulder with their rifle. “Oh, stop it!”

“Stay quiet,” the soldier said.

Lance quickly examined Pidge, his lips pinching together at the sight of an injury, laser fire that burned through fabric to leave an angry red mark in her side. He tightened his grip on his rifle and tore his gaze away to stare at Minister Hernan.

“Your Galra ally is dead,” he told her, struggling to keep his voice level.

“I don’t need Major Kovrik,” Hernan sneered. “He was only my liaison to the Empire.”

“What does the Empire give you that the Coalition doesn’t?” Allura snapped from behind Lance. “They stifle your speech, control your travel and trade, rob you of technologies—”

“They gift us with technologies!” Hernan interrupted. “Do you not see these artificial lights? With these, we no longer have to rely on unpredictable Illuminators.”

“Trade—”

“The Empire was our main trading partner!” Hernan hissed, jerking the Prime Minister around in her grip. “Now we have to seek new trading partners on our own.”

“Freedom has its cost,” Allura conceded, but her voice stayed firm as she added, “But do you really want to subjugate your people to the whims of another power? Especially to a warmonger like Zarkon?”

“Zarkon is—”

They never found out what Zarkon was, as applause surged from inside the ballroom as the second speaker finished their speech.

Minister Hernan looked at Lance again and said, “Drop your weapon.”

Lance bit his lip. “No.”

“If you don’t, then your princess gets hurt.”

Lance shook his head. “No, she won’t,” he said, confident in his response. “She’s too important to the Coalition’s image, so you’ll want to make an example of her.”

“And what about the Green Paladin?” Minister Hernan nodded at one of her soldiers, and a startled cry came from Allura.

Lance swallowed, pulse thrumming and shoulders tense as a soldier carried Pidge towards the minister and unceremoniously dropped her unconscious body at her feet. “I—”

The soldier angled their rifle down; if they fired, Pidge would be shot point-blank.

“Y-you think it’s that easy to find someone to pilot a Lion?” Lance said, feigning laughter he didn’t feel.

“No one said anything about finding her replacement,” Minister Hernan said.

His rifle felt slick in his sweaty hands, but Lance kept himself calm, waiting for a solution to present itself, one that kept Pidge alive. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw her prone form twitch, but he fixed his gaze on Minister Hernan.

She pushed Prime Minister Nunez towards the door leading to the stage. “It’s time for your speech, Prime Minister,” she said. “Someone escort him out.”

Another Echidna soldier hastened to obey her, nudging the Prime Minister with their rifle, but not before a small hand wrapped around the Echidna soldier’s ankle and pulled them down.

Lance seized the distraction and shot at Minister Hernan, striking her in the shoulder. She dropped her gun, and the same hand that tripped the soldier grabbed it.

Pidge slowly got to her feet, wincing while her other hand clutched her side. Lance’s heart leapt, and he grinned at her.

Pidge flashed him a smile of her own as she aimed and fired at someone behind him.

Allura knocked down the soldier holding her hostage, her superior strength easily wrestling the rifle from their grip. And between the three of them, they made quick work of the soldiers, sequestering them and their ringleader in a corner.

While Allura comforted a shaken Prime Minister Nunez, Pidge and Lance trained their stolen weapons on the traitors. Pidge still kept a hand on her injury, and Lance asked, “Were you faking the whole time?”

Pidge snorted and admitted with a sideways glance at him, “I think I did black out for a bit. I came to my senses after you walked in.”

“Good timing,” Lance said, nudging her in the uninjured side.

“Well, I no longer owe you after Sendak,” she said with a smirk.

Lance rolled his eyes, his insides warmed and relieved. “Please, Pidge, who’s keeping count anymore?”

Before Pidge could reply, Allura approached them and said, “The Prime Minister is making his original speech now. It seems as if Minister Hernan here sought to undermine the Coalition and force his resignation so she could take power.” She glared at Minister Hernan, who glared back, eyes reflecting the yellow light of a nearby orb.

“Where did you two go?” Allura asked Lance and Pidge, glancing between the two of them.

“Oh, Pidge got bored,” Lance said.

“We went exploring,” Pidge added.

“Against the rules, I see.” Allura sighed, shaking her head disparagingly, but didn’t scold them. “I suppose it turned out for the better. How did you know Minister Hernan was planning to usurp control?”

Lance’s face heated up, and he met Pidge’s eyes, wide as his must be. He coughed and said, “We…eavesdropped.”

“Almost got caught—”

“Did get caught,” Lance corrected her.

Pidge smiled sheepishly. “And you wouldn’t want to know what we were up to when we did,” she added with a sly smile.

“Why…not?” Allura wondered with a suspicious frown.

“And yet,” Pidge added, ignoring Allura, “I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lance raised an eyebrow at her, hopeful.

“Preferably for longer,” Pidge continued, “and preferably after having a long, candid talk about our feelings.”

“You know, Pidge,” Lance said, “I think I’d like that too.”

Pidge averted her eyes from him, then peeked at him almost bashfully. Lance just grinned, his stomach filling with anticipatory butterflies.

Poor Allura grumbled, “What the quiznak are you talking about?”

Neither of them answered, both two flustered to tell truth or lie.