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As the leader of Voltron, it was his duty to keep a level head, so to speak, something that was even more vital in the wake of Zarkon’s death. Peace would not be granted so easily, and Voltron still had plenty of work to do.
Shiro could not allow himself to be intimidated by the Kramog, the militaristic inhabitants of a small planet that had largely managed to escape any ill effects of the 10,000 year Galran tyranny. They were a powerful race, as brutal as the Galra but smaller in ambition. They guarded their planet and their culture fiercely and cared little for what happened beyond the orbit of their own home.
That alone made Shiro’s gut twist with unease. When the fate of the entire universe was at stake, and the lives of countless innocents at risk, he felt everyone had a moral duty to help, no matter what their position.
The Kramog did not agree.
Now Shiro could have understood their position if it was a matter of caution or self-preservation, he knew he could not expect everyone they met to agree with his mindset, but the Kramog were not weak. They had the strength, know-how and resources to do something but they chose not to react until the threat was on their own doorstep.
A young, arrogant Galra soldier dissatisfied with Lotor's rule and wanting to prove his own worth had taken it upon himself to attack the Kramog's home planet, Ubraytis. He brought with him a small army of sentries he'd convinced to come with him, and he bulked up his army with some prisoners from small Galra colonies Voltron and Lotor had yet to reach and liberate. He'd barely landed on the planet before he, his crew and the unwilling prisoners, were captured and imprisoned. In the confusion, one prisoner managed to escape and was able to send a distress signal that Voltron picked up, which was why there were here.
Shiro was no stranger to prisons, and he’d hoped after his escape he would never have to see one again. The Kramog prisons were no different to the Galran ones. They'd briefly been allowed to see the prisoners, to prove they were alive and unharmed. Shiro had seen enough in those few moments. He recognised the fear and hopelessness in their eyes. The Galra and the innocent prisoners had been thrown into the cells together, all guilty by association.
They sat at a big table, waiting for the leader of Kramog people, a man name Krylk. The air in the room was thick and heavy, it weighed down on Shiro in a way that was suffocating, and the leader wasn't even present yet.
Shiro's hands curled into tight fists and rested on his lap under the table. The armed guards keeping watch by the door and windows put him on edge. They were being kept under careful watch. They were not prisoners but should they put one foot wrong, or do anything that the Kramog could construe as a threat they could quite easily become so.
Lance sat on his left and Lotor on his right, the later joining them to take responsibility for the actions of the Galra soldier. Allura sat on Lotor's other side, both of them sitting tall and proud, like true royalty.
Hunk and Pidge were on standby in their Lions, and Coran could provide cover from the castle if needed. But would it be enough?
Shiro’s eyes darted around the room. Every exit was either guarded or locked, but he could not afford to be intimidated. If they wanted to negotiate the release of the prisoners, then he had to be confident and firm. Deep down Shiro was trembling.
A hand landed on his left hand, slender, nimble finger wriggled their way between his clenched fist forcing Shiro to slacken his grip.
Lance's palm was sweaty too.
Shiro didn't dare glance at the man sitting on his left nor did he try to pull his hand free. He was frozen.
Lance squeezed his hand tightly, enough to crush his fingers almost painfully and cause Shiro to suck in a sharp breath.
Was Lance scared too? No doubt he was picking up on Shiro's anxiety, And Shiro was the one who’d brought him into this dangerous situation. Shiro's apprehension grew forming a large lump in his throat.
Lance's grip on his hand slackened slowly, his fingers uncurling and for a moment Shiro feared he was going to let go, but then his grip tightened again. This time Shiro heard him suck in a deep, deliberate breath that rattled around them in the tense silence. Lance squeeze his hand tight, and Shiro heard him hold his breath, and then after a moment he let out the breath slowly and steadily loosened his grip on Shiro's hand again.
Lance was squeezing his hand in time with his breathing, Shiro realised, and he also realised he hadn’t taken a proper breath since they landed on the planet.
The next time Lance breathed in, and squeezed his hand, Shiro sucked in a deep breath with him. He held his breath along with Lance, and then let it out as the other man’s grip loosened on his hand.
He felt better.
After several more deep breaths, Lance’s grip was no longer quite so crushing, though his hand remained in Shiro’s for a few moments longer. Long enough for Lance to be sure Shiro was more at ease now.
Shiro could do nothing to show his gratitude except lace his fingers with Lance’s and give the other man's hand a gentle squeeze. He saw Lance's smile from the corner of his eye and their hands remained clasped together until Krylk strode into the room and took his place at the head of the table.
He was a tall, imposing man that bore the same smug, confident self-assurance that reminded him of almost every single high ranking Galra officer he'd ever met. He even wore the same sneer, his disregard for anyone not of his kind obvious.
“Now, I understand you wish to speak with me regarding some trespassers we apprehended?” Krylk sounded board, but his voice was powerful with authority.
Shiro lifted his head, and his eyes were cold steel. He would not be intimidated.