Chapter Text
They'd sent him here looking for something. Something out of legend, something that if found, could turn the tide of the war.
Something that desperately needed to be kept out of Zarkon's hands.
Beyond that? He basically had no idea what it was that he was looking for. Or even where it was, other than which of the planet's massive land masses it was likely located on. That still left him with a lot of territory to cover, and little time to actually cover it. As it stood, they were lucky enough as it was to catch wind of the blue lion's location before Zarkon did, but even then, it was only a matter of time before the Galra Empire figured it out.
There was no doubt they were looking.
Still, if he was being honest, this all sounded like some kind of bad joke. It was hard to believe that the key to defeating the reign of a ten thousand year old tyrant was located on some planet that was so backwater, they hadn't even managed to leave their own solar system yet. If he didn't know any better, he'd say this wasn't a mission at all, but rather some kind of exile.
(Was it? He wasn't sure. He didn't exactly have the best track record of following orders, but that was no reason to exile him.)
No. Whatever this was, it probably wasn't exile. Sure, he might not be one hundred percent sure that the legends surrounding Voltron were actually true or not, but Kolivan seemed to believe them at least. In that respect, getting this mission should have been an honor, but realistically he knew that the only reason he'd been chosen over other Blades was because of his height. Among the Galra, he was short enough to still be mistaken for a youngling, but amongst the people of this planet- the humans- he looked just like any other adolescent his age...
... with the help from a device he'd had implanted in the base of his spine, that was. The human form was massively inconvenient, lacking claws and fangs, with short, rounded ears that didn't hear half as well as those of his real form. He still hadn't gotten used to his dulled senses, and even then, his were still far superior to those of a real human. The worst part of it all was that he was stuck with this form until he completed his mission- which meant that until he found the blue lion, there would be no returning to normal.
Said mission had already stretched on longer than he'd anticipated. He was starting to regret not arguing with Kolivan more- not that he was supposed to argue with his leader, but there was that whole not really good at following rules thing again.
In his defense, he'd gotten it from his mother.
Still, the more he learned about these humans, the more grateful he was for this form, inconvenient though it was. It certainly made him stand out a lot less, and enabled him to act far more openly than he could otherwise. Not only had the people of this planet not managed to leave their system yet, they didn't even know that life beyond it existed. For most, it was a rumor, and for others, the concept of extraterrestrial life was laughable- which from his point of view, was beyond egotistical. Did they really think that they were alone in the universe? Did they not understand how vast it was?
Probably not, given how pitiful their technology was.
He'd thought that given their reputation as Earth's premier space exploration program, the Galaxy Garrison would have been the best place to start when it came to searching for the blue lion, but he'd quickly learned otherwise. At this rate, he was starting to wonder if it was even worth the trouble he had gone though to enroll as a cadet there- even if it did give him a roof over his head, not to mention free food. The ration bars the Garrison produced were optimized to meet the needs of his human form, more than satisfying any of his hunger cravings.
(Not that it had actually been that hard to get in. Shouldn't a place like this have like, actual background checks? Obviously not, if they'd accepted a student who basically hadn't even existed the day before.)
Plus, it got him access to the simulators, which was the closest thing to piloting he could get on this rock heap- though unsurprisingly, it wasn't nearly enough. To make matters worse, none of the pilots here had any real talent- should Zarkon ever actually show up, he had no doubt that Earth would be conquered in the blink of an eye.
Actually... he'd take that back. There was one good pilot among the bunch.
Takashi Shirogane.
Takashi Shirogane, his assigned mentor.
Takashi Shirogane, his assigned mentor, who wouldn't leave him alone. Be it dragging him to the commissary to eat something other than ration bars (what was wrong with ration bars?), or asking him more questions that he cared to answer, it was quite clear that the older man had no intention of leaving him in peace. And while he had a begrudging respect for his skills as a pilot, the last thing he wanted to do was try and make friends with any of the local populace.
He was here on a mission. He didn't have the time to get personally involved.
The worst part about this one, however, was that it was really hard not to like him. Other humans made it easy- like the loud guy who wouldn't shut up about being his rival, or that annoying guy with the flippy hair whose arm he'd accidentally broken during a mandatory combat lesson, but not this one. He had a way about him that he couldn't quite describe- something that drew people in, almost like a black hole- if not considerably less deadly. He had no intention of warming up to him, but it was almost like he didn't have a choice in he matter.
When he started calling him Shiro, he was forced to admit defeat. Fine- fine! So he was interested in this one human in particular, big deal. It was fine. It wasn't so bad that he'd let it distract him from his mission. Maybe it could actually serve to make his time on this dump a little more bearable.
Not that he had much to show for it, even though he'd been here long enough to get used to seeing pale skin, purple eyes, and black hair reflected back at him in the mirror. Even though he'd gotten used to be being addressed as Keith, no longer failing to respond to the name he'd picked as a more human alias. It wasn't through any lack of effort on his part either- he was starting to think that whatever this Voltron was, it just simply wasn't here.
But probably wasn't good enough for Kolivan. If he was going to get off this rock, then he needed to be one hundred percent sure it wasn't here.
By the time a deca-phoeb- give or take, depending on the differences between cycles- had passed, Keith thought he was going to go mad.
To make matters worse, Shiro was leaving. The one human he had learned to get along with, and he was leaving, flying off into the far reaches of space- or at least, what humans considered to be the far reaches of space. Beyond this system, even the clunkiest of ships could make the journey in at least a few quintants, if not much, much faster. For the humans, however, the journey would take several of their months- and that was only just getting there.
He half wanted to tell Shiro not to go.
Not just because he would miss him. No. He was a Blade. He was more than used to people leaving for deca-phoebs on missions, often without contact. Ulaz, Thace... even his mom had left. Compared to their deep cover missions, a few phoebs would pass by in the blink of an eye. He didn't even miss his mom that much, and he hadn't been able to contact her in deca-phoebs. There was no way that he was going to miss someone who would only be gone for half that time, especially not when he'd only met him a little over a deca-phoeb ago.
No, what he was more worried about was the Galra Empire.
As of yet, he hadn't received any word from Kolivan that they were in the area- he surely would have been notified if that was the case. But though they had showed no apparent interest in Earth as of yet, that was something that could change at any time.
It would be fine, he'd reasoned at the time. Space was vast, and the Kerberos mission was a small one, made up of no more than three members. It wasn't like any of the other planets in this system hosted sentient life, so they might actually be safer there than here, should the Empire decide to show it's face. They'd probably look right past an uninhabitable moon.
He'd been wrong.
It wasn't fine.
The days after the announcement of the 'Kerberos disaster' were still kind of a blur. He vaguely remembered yelling at Kolivan, damaging Garrison property, swearing to kill Zarkon himself given half the chance and punching one of the Garrison's commanding officers, not necessarily in that order. It was the latter that got him tossed out of the Garrison, sending him back to the tiny shack that he had staked out when he'd first arrived here.
None of it changed the fact that Shiro was gone.
The news said it was due to a crash- but he knew that was bullshit, right from the start. They'd tried to pass it off as pilot error, like Shiro wasn't the best pilot this entire dump heap had to offer. Then he'd heard from Kolivan that one of the Empire's cruisers had been spotted on the edge of the system, and he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that there had been no crash.
Shiro, along with the rest of the Kerberos mission crew, had been taken.
By the Empire.
And Kolivan was not helping.
He'd kind of expected it. It was clear that he disapproved of the apparent attachment he'd developed towards the human- an attachment that Keith didn't even realize ran as deep as it did until he was already gone. He thought it was distracting him from his mission- which fine, maybe it was- and that it wasn't worth the risk to save a single human prisoner.
(Three prisoners, he reminded himself, and would feel guilty for leaving out the other two crew members much later.)
He understood. He understood- but that didn't mean he didn't hate it. But there was also nothing he could do. The fact that there was an imperial cruiser at the edge of the system could only mean that his window of opportunity was swiftly closing. He couldn't afford to be distracted right now.
Even if it hurt.
As a member of the Blade of Marmora, he should be used to people disappearing. It happened all the time- there was a reason their creed was knowledge or death. But this was different- this wasn't a fellow Blade member, someone who knew exactly what they were getting into, but someone who had nothing to do with the conflict at all- someone whose only crime was being in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
It wasn't right.
It was enough to make him want to punch someone- which, yeah, he kind of did. Broke their jaw too. His senses might have been downgraded upon taking this form, but if there was one thing that hadn't changed too much, it was his physical strength. He didn't regret it one bit... even if it had resulted in being expelled from the Garrison.
Whoops.
Then again, maybe his expulsion was the best thing to happen yet- at least in terms of the mission. With nowhere else to go, he found himself back at the rundown shack that had served as his home base during his first few days on Earth. It was very much like he had left it, sitting abandoned in the middle of the desert. He wasn't sure who it belonged to, but he didn't think they'd been back for a long time.
It was there, in the desert, that he first picked up on the energy.
He didn't know what it was at first. It might have been his imagination, the heat of the desert getting to him- until he sensed it again, and then another time. Whatever it was, it was very real- and it might even be exactly what he was looking for. Kolivan had given him a slightly odd look when he'd reported as much back to him, but at the time, he hadn't thought much of it. He was always giving him those kind of looks. So he searched the desert, trying to find the source of the strange energy. It wasn't like there was much else he could do, and it kept him from dwelling too much on Shiro's disappearance. It kept Kolivan happy too- or at least, as happy as he got.
When he found the first cave, he knew he was on the right track.
He wondered why it had taken so long for him to pick up on it- especially as the energy that got harder to ignore by the quintant. It was the strongest in the caves, but they were so labyrinthe that it might take him months to pin down the lion's exact location.
All the while, the Galra Empire drew closer.
The humans didn't even notice.
They were drawing closer- and the writing on the wall was all spelling out the when. There was something there, on the cave walls, something about some kind of event, some kind of arrival, though of what kind, they didn't specify- and at first, he thought all the clues were pointing towards the Galra.
At least, until he received contact from a another Blade.
Kolivan would have never approved the transmission. But if there was something that he had in common with Ulaz, it was the fact that they both had always followed their own instincts- even if that sometimes meant doing things that their leader wouldn't approve of.
Ulaz's instinct had been to send Shiro home.
But if he wanted to get him, he was going to have to act fast. He didn't know where his pod was going to land, or crash, to be more exact- other than that it was going to fall somewhere on Garrison property. He couldn't- he wouldn't- let Shiro fall back into their hands, not when they didn't understand anything about what it was they were dealing with. He knew how much the druids liked to experiment with prisoners- and who knew what they had done to Shiro? Ulaz's message had been sent off in such a hurry, that he didn't have time to tell him anything further. He was making himself scarce, having blown his cover to do this. Likely he wouldn't be able to get anything further from him for some time.
If he got the chance, he'd thank him. But right now, he had a mission.
Distracting the humans had been easy- and dispatching the ones in makeshift decontamination area had been even easier. He'd thought about wearing his Marmora armor at first- but he didn't want to risk being seen in it, giving the humans even more questions that he frankly had no time to answer.
Besides, if Shiro had been held captive by the Galra Empire for the past deca-phoeb, the last thing he needed to know was that he was one too.
And it was him.
It was Shiro.
Scarred, with a shock of white hair and a cyborg prosthetic that he knew at once was Galra tech- but it was unmistakably Shiro.
Now he just had to get him out of here, and then everything would be-
"Oh no, no, no, no, no."
What.
"I'll be the one saving Shiro."
What.