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When he first found them, the truth was that things were the other way around. He’d never expected to come into contact with anyone out here, much less people that he could potentially form some semblance of a camaraderie with. Growing up in his father’s space faring palace, Lotor wasn’t allowed many opportunities to mingle with the common Galra subjects scattered across the cosmos. Routine check ins with bases, checkpoints, colonies, and the occasional intervention where one such outpost was to be reformed or exterminated had been the basic extent of his exposure. Essentially, the grunt work his father didn’t have the time or interest for often fell to him, presumably as a deterrent against any of the prince’s more liberal sensibilities.
Those sensibilities had contributed to his downfall, facilitated the actions that had brought him all the way out here in the first place. With nowhere to go and no place to return to, he’d been exiled to the vast emptiness of space. He’d wandered so many star systems, explored galaxies and planets he’d only ever heard rumors of before, some that’d even been branded as myths. In some ways, it was a gift, because all he really wanted to do was learn. Learn about new places, the people that inhabited them, their customs and idiosyncrasies. It was a habit he’d been sorely punished for in the past, but now he had nothing to lose. He could do as he pleased, and as lonely as he found himself at times, he figured he’d much rather have the freedom to pursue his life the way he’d always wanted. Almost anything was better than continuing to be crushed into submission under the weight of his father’s imposing and unyielding thumb.
His way of thinking was a damnable offence in the eyes of his father, a mindset that could scarcely be forgiven, if any measure of mercy was granted at all. To a point, he’d tried to conform to that philosophy, to fulfill his father’s demands to the degree that was expected of him. In such a scenario, not even the slightest failure was tolerated, and Lotor had learned how to accept the sting of harsh and harmful criticism the hard way; both mentally and physically. As much as the people that raised and trained him wanted to stamp out the spark of compassion that resided in his soul, every time it seemed like it was close to being snuffed out, something came around to sustain it that much longer. In this case, they were the ones that had reignited the paltry, wounded flame that could barely support itself.
“What are you doing out here?” the one with short, navy hair had asked. “Do you need help?”
Someone offering him help out in the middle of this desolate wasteland he’d gotten lost in? He could ask them the same question, this rag tag group of wanderers that looked to be far more qualified than whatever position they were filling now denoted. Or perhaps they were just working for themselves, hopping from planet to planet looking for pathetic husks like him to rehabilitate. It looked like they didn’t have much more than he did, though…and there was something else that was strangely familiar about them. Strangely comforting.
“Are you all Galra?”
The one that had addressed him grew tense, fists balling up tight. “Why do you want to know?”
Trying to make himself more presentable, Lotor had introduced himself and explained his circumstances. The one he’d been directly addressing all this time, Acxa, kneeled to him when he revealed his now worthless title. Even out here, this rejected royal could still find someone who wanted to be loyal to him, that respected him…he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. She beckoned the rest of her comrades forward, introducing them all in turn, and before he’d really had a chance to process any of this, it appeared that even Kova had taken a liking to one of them. His sole companion on this isolated trek, the furry creature was already trying to make new friends for him. Friends…Lotor had never really known such a thing.
“Even if you’ve been exiled, you’re still the prince. The blood heir to the Galra Empire,” Acxa had defended, her gaze sharp with a conviction that was no doubt just as formidable as her blade. “No one can ever take that away from you.”
She may have been right, but Lotor wasn’t sure he wanted to be emperor…he wasn’t sure if he’d ever truly desired that position. What he was sure of was that he just wanted to help people. He wanted to bring people together, to develop techniques and resources that would enable even dying populations to thrive, a welcome improvement from the decimation of the Altean Empire that his father had spearheaded like a tyrant—no, simply as one. The more he conversed with these strangers, the more he discovered just how closely their own ideals seemed to line up with his. Half Galra that understood the pain of being cast out, of being considered nobodies just by virtue of their existence.
They were skilled strategists and warriors, calculating fighters that could also display kind hearts if need be. They may not have been perfect, or even the most noble people in the world, but Lotor considered himself far from worthy of any such status, either. He had lofty goals and a sympathetic streak that had proven to be his downfall more than once. That had served as a catalyst of destruction for all the settlements that had been forced to suffer as a result of his naïve, meager conviction. Even when he’d tried to disguise his ideals as a ploy for advancement, for exploitation, his father had seen through his rouse and taken the usual measures that he claimed existed to teach the stubborn boy a lesson. The only lesson those situations had really instilled in him was that his father was a despicable dictator that couldn’t be trusted…one day, somehow, Lotor would figure out a way to usurp him. For the good of the cosmos, he knew it was his calling, his duty, his burden to bear.
“Would you help me accomplish this goal? Will you work with me to improve the universe, to thwart the destruction that this cruel Empire has wrought?”
For Acxa, it wasn’t even a question. For the other three, it was a matter of solidarity more than anything else. If one of them swore their life to this cause, then the others would at least see what kind of paths such an opportunity paved for them. For Lotor, it was a sort of second chance. These people had sworn their allegiance to him willingly, looked to him with the expectation that he would one day bring hope and prosperity back to the Empire with a fairness that had essentially been extinct for the duration of Zarkon’s reign. With this new authority in his hands, the prince was determined to do the right thing, and trample all who stood in his path. His was a path of virtue, after all, and these four would surely be the key to helping him attain the position he’d been born for.