Chapter Text
While I have long written for Classic Voltron from the 80s, the new characters kept bugging me until I gave-in to tell this tale.
Enjoy!
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Keith smiled as he listened to the bickering from the campsite. He congratulated himself for volunteering to look for and gather some of the plants and herbs Coran had approved for Altean consumption. He did not guarantee it safe for humans, but Pidge would run a quick diagnostic on whatever Keith managed to retrieve for confirmation.
Moving slowly in the dense undergrowth, Keith tested the footholds before moving forward. Coran had mentioned a burrowing animal on the planet destabilizing the surface. Taking another cautious step forward, he shifted his weight only to hear a crack as the dense foliage gave way. Keith let out a small yelp a vine twisted around his leg and he found himself falling headfirst. As he tried to flip to avoid a head down landing, the vine tightened sending the young pilot slamming into the side of the hole, directly onto a sharp protuberance. Keith only had a moment to feel the object impact his armor, crumpling under the force of the blow and a sharp sudden pain in his side before his head hit the side of the hole and blackness swallowed his consciousness.
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“That is enough! I have had it with this bickering. Keith had the right idea in leaving to hunt down food stuffs. “You three have not stopped for the last varga, and it needs to cease!” Allura stood with her arms crossed, glaring at Romelle, Lance, and Pidge as they froze mid-sentence in their latest argument. “In fact, for the last Pheob the three of you cannot seem to go a dobash without one of you starting a fight. In the Lions, over the coms, on planets, and everywhere in between. So. You three are going to travel in the Green lion until you figure out how to get along.”
“But, Allura we are just. . .” started Pidge.
“Did I not make myself clear?” Allura interrupted, tapping her foot.
“But who will fly. . . “ began Lance.
“I am sure Krolia or Shiro is more than capable of flying Red. Blue indicates Red also feels heartily tied of the bickering and would like some resolution. If not, Shiro can temporarily fly Black and Keith can move back to Red.”
The three young people looked back and forth amongst themselves, embarrassment, and resentment clear on their faces. Coran held back a smile behind his hand as he twirled his moustache. He understood the bickering arose from the tension of the situation. They had heard no communications from the Alliance, the castle gone, the Lions struggling to recharge without the assistance of the Balmera Crystal of the castle, and a long journey in ships not designed for multiple people. Even with the modifications and shuffling of people between Lions, the young people did not have enough of an outlet. Perhaps he should gently nudge young Keith into encouraging some more discipline and routine. They needed more physical activity and mental breaks as well. As Allura continued lecturing, Coran watched as Krolia stalked off into the forest with Kosmo at her side. Shiro hovered in the background, a smirk well-hidden as he leaned against a tree.
With the three children temporarily sulking as Allura continued her tirade, er, helpful lecture, Coran strode to the Black Lion, ready to do a diagnostic while they stayed on this planet several days letting the lions recharge. As he approached, the Black Lion let out a low growling noise and turned his head toward the forest. The vocalizations sounded worried, and Coran paused, looking at the time. No one had heard from the Black Paladin in Vargas. “That Boy,” muttered Coran. “Probably stopped to take a nap like a Niflunk.” Coran tapped his communicator and tried to reach out to Keith. “Coran to Number 4. Please update your position and success of your mission.” For the next several dobashes, Coran tried to reach the Black Paladin. He cleared his throat, “Allura. We might have a small problem.”
Allura immediately paused in the fourth repetition of her lecture. “What is it Coran?”
“Has anyone heard from Number 4 in the last few vargas? He did not respond to my inquiries.”
Allura turned to look at the other paladins and Romelle. All four shook their heads in response.
Coran nodded and hailed Krolia, informing her of the situation. She acknowledged and let the remainder of the team that she and Kosmo would follow Keith’s path and report in as soon as they found something.
Acknowledging Krolia, Coran looked back at the group, exchanging worried looks.
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Keith slowly came to awareness with his stomach rolling, and a pounding in his head overwhelming any ability to think. Slowly opening his eyes, he watched the world swim and dip before his stomach emptied itself of any memory of meal. As his stomach contracted, searing pain through his entire body sent him swirling back into unconsciousness.
The second time Keith started to wake, the pounding in his head seemed designed to prevent any logical thoughts. The paladin tried breathing in and out in rhythm, but he could not draw a long breath. As he became more aware through the pounding in his head, Keith realized he still hung upside down from his right ankle, which partially explained why he could not draw a deep breath. In this position, his lungs would compress from the pressure of the lower organs. Gingerly, hissing as movement sent spikes of agony through his side and head, Keith explored as much of his torso as he could reach. Cataloging his injuries, he found his armor dented through most of the front where he had impacted something on the wall, compressing inward into his kidneys, diaphragm, and most of his lower stomach. The rest of his armor appeared intact. Suppressing a whimper, he moved up toward his head and found a large goose egg, not that he had ever seen a goose egg, on the front of his head where he had initially impacted the wall, and a smaller lump on the back. He must have struck the wall a second or third time as his body spun.
Dizzy, he laced his fingers together rather than letting them dangle below his head again. Keith did not want to know the status of his right ankle. Dimly he felt it throbbing, but it paled in comparison to his head and stomach. Realizing his left leg hung awkwardly he bent his knee toward his chest, hissing as his right ankle pulsed with pain as the movement started him rotating gently.
If his head would just stop pounding for a minute or the dizziness lessen so he could think. Not go back to sleep. He needed to ask Shiro. Oh. Shiro. He could call for help. Thanking the universe for nearly indestructible communicators like the old-fashioned black boxes on Earth airplanes that recorded flight data. Keith wondered how they created those and who thought of the idea in the first place. He tried to remember what he remembered from his history class but drew a blank. A little odd because Keith had loved his history of flight class at the Garrison. One of the few he did not have work so hard to master. Having bounced from foster home to foster home before the group home, his academic history --or rather the lack of a continuous education-- had left him struggling to keep up with the rest of the garrison cadets. He knew they all thought him aloof and egotistical, but really, he needed every extra minute to try and understand all the material he did not have the background to understand. Cramming in three years of missing math to understand the basic physics class had not left time for socializing. Not that he could brag about having any of those. The one time he had approached another student for help, Keith involuntarily shuddered. That moment had put him off asking again, ever. Wait, his mind had drifted.
He needed to do something. Oh, right. Call Shiro. Chanting to himself in his head so he did not become distracted again, Keith slowly moved his hand to engage his emergency beacon and try and reach the team. He managed to press the side neck of the suit where Pidge had decided no one would accidentally activate them, he realized his eyes had drifted shut and his arms fallen back down, or up? He could not tell any more. Straining to listen, he coughed and tasted a coppery flavor in the back of the throat. Not a good sign. Not a good sign at all. Ok. Ok. Think through the pounding. Upright. Keith needed to move upright to relieve the pressure on his lungs and head. Right. Gods it just hurt so badly to try and think. Ok what would anyone do? A light. Mostly pitch-black hole with only a bit of light filtering down from way above him. How far to the top anyway? 40 feet? 50 feet? He could not tell how far he had fallen down the rabbit hole.
Down the rabbit hole. Like that character from that ancient cartoon. That girl in the. . . blue. . . blue dress who fell down, down, down. Her dress billowing outward to act as a parachute. Drinking tea on the way down and conversing with inanimate objects that animated. Became animated? Wait. Pause. He needed to do something. A light. Right. Pulling his hands back to his chest from where they had started dangling again below his head, he pressed the button on his left forearm to activate the light source. Flashlight? Not an earth flashlight, more like a lantern, really but it did provide illumination. It felt too bright to his dark-adapted eyes. He pointed the flashlight away to give himself time to adjust. Keith did not dare close his eyes in case he passed out again.
Moving the flashlight slowly to keep himself from starting to rotate on the vine, he noticed the protrusion he had impacted looked like a shelf on top of a triangle. If he could manage to pull himself up, he could at least lay down until rescue arrived. Keith did not let himself think about how much this would hurt, based on the damage to his torso and head. He knew he needed hurry because fighting off passing out again continued to grow harder. Not to mention the ability to concentrate. Like powdered drink mix. No. Focus. Grappling hook. Let it embed in the wall above the platform and let it pull him upward. Right. Ok. It would hurt like a bitch, but he would be horizontal rather than upside down. Right. Ok. Pass the line underneath. Shit. Shit Damn. Breathe. Not too deep. Breathe. Shaking hands, not so good. Shock? Maybe. Ok, aim. Fire. Keith’s world greyed out as the jolt of the line penetrating the wall passed through him. He did not know how long before he could bring a shaking had to press the retraction button. As the line tightened behind his back and around to his arm, he let himself scream as the stress of holding the line made his torso feel like he would tear in two.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds. His body slowly righted itself and the rush of blood downward made Keith’s vision go white.
Four seconds.
Five seconds.
Six seconds.
Seven seconds. His knees bumped the edge of the platform as the line pulled him over the edge. Letting the line go he let the retraction turn him over and finish pulling him onto the ledge. He stopped the retraction, the line holding him semi-upright. Putting down his left arm, he recalled the grappling hook. As soon as the support disappeared, his left arm and side screamed in agony as he let the line rewind and then slowly let his arm collapse. This time, he did not fight the darkness.
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Krolia looked down the hole where the signal originated. She could see a light illuminating a wall, and what looked like a body next to it on a narrow ledge. Gesturing to Kosmo, she allowed the wolf to see Keith. “I found the boy. The wolf will retrieve him, but you should bring a conveyance to the site to transport him back to the lions.” Krolia absently responded to the dismayed cries in the communicator before turning it off. The wolf vanished and reappeared moments later with Keith, staying protectively above him, whining quietly.
Giving the wolf a gently shove to evaluate her son, she started cataloging injuries even as she knelt next to his side. His right ankle, with some vine wrapped around it lay at an awkward angle. The vine looked odd with the end dripping a red fluid from where it had sheered during Kosmo’s transport. She did not want to remove the leg plates until they returned to the lions as it would keep swelling down and support the break. The entire lower front plate of the armor looked caved-in and obviously impacted his ability to draw breath. Krolia began the process of loosening the armor, to relieve the pressure on his chest. As she jostled her son, he groaned but did not open his eyes. “Keith, can you hear me?”
“ ‘Om?”
“Yes. We followed your single and Kosmo transported you to the surface. The paladins are bringing transport back to the lions. I am removing your chest plate, to relieve the pressure on your lungs.”
The paladin did not respond, but started coughing, a rough wet sound. Krolia quickly rolled him to his side as dark red blood erupted with the force of the cough. Keith bit back most of the scream of pain at the abrupt change in position and the pain from his ribs and stomach from the coughing. He could not stop the tears from running down his cheeks. His Mom moved to support his back to keep him slightly on his side should another coughing fit begin. Keith knew he should say something, anything, but it would take more energy than he had. He just wanted to pass out again to escape the pain, but another round of coughing started with more blood coming out.
“I think it pooled, blocked by the armor.”
His mom continued to talk, but Keith did not even try to pay attention. He latched onto the rhythm of her voice, comforting and familiar after two years together. He let it sooth him between bouts of coughing and blood. They stayed in that position for dobashes, or vargas until more voices and the sounds of people running through the forest, scaring all the animals in the vicinity. He started coughing again, and this time felt something pop in his chest. Not a good sign. Not like the peace sign, or the victory sign, or a thumbs up sign. A small snort escapes as he starts thinking about good signs and the darkness closes in and he lets it take him away from all the agony of his body.
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“Move, humans.” Krolia ordered as the paladins paused at the sight of Keith. Shiro gave the yellow one a small shove forward toward where Keith lay. Inwardly Krolia reminded herself their own planet considered them immature. Of most species to have developed sentience, humans had some of the shortest life spans. Their bodies matured to reproductive age much faster than their brains. These children, while capable of reproduction, did not expect to have fully developed, mature brains for many more phoebs. She expected Keith to take even longer. He had grown significantly during his time in the abyss, and the exposure to the differing time streams had greatly increased the maturation process, but she suspected he would experience a second growth when he reached human maturity, and the Galra genes moved from dormancy. She had seen the process in other hybrids over the centa-phoebs of her life. Whether he kept his mostly human appearance remained in question. Krolia suspected he would, since most other Galra hybrids kept the dominant traits through maturation. Mentally refocusing on the task at hand, Keith’s mother made a mental note to continue her analysis during the next long sleep cycle of the humans. While she had pondered momentarily, the other paladins had approached with a portable transport unit.
The Yellow Paladin set the stretcher, as he called it, directly behind Keith so they only needed to roll him slightly to lay on the surface. The Black and Yellow paladins then picked up the ends, and carefully started walking as smoothly as possible back to the lions. Inwardly, Krolia winced at the primitive technology that jostled her son as they tried to walk quickly back to the camp, without causing additional damage to Keith.
Krolia walked along side of the ‘stretcher’ monitoring Keith’s breathing.
“Did you have a chance to do any analysis, Krolia?”
“No, Black Paladin. Although I suspect internal damage due to the compression from the armor. Other than the thorns that pierced the armor at the joint, I do not see any external bleeding.”
“Wait. The thorns pierced the armor?”
“No, it appeared to have somehow moved through the joint gap between plates.”
“That’s odd.”
“Secondary concern, Paladin. I believe something has ruptured internally, because of the amount of blood Keith expectorated. Based on the large protrusion on his head, a concussion is also likely.”
“Coran, did you hear all of that?”
“Affirmative Number One. The lions do not currently have enough power to use the healing pod, but Allura believes she can stabilize him enough until the power becomes available.”
“How long do you estimate, Coran, until the power becomes available? And can Allura do more than stabilize my son?”
“We do not know, Krolia. The quintessence of this planet is strong, but oddly flavored. We do not detect any lifeforms with discernable intelligence, but there seems to be some sort of consciousness.”
“Understood, Coran. We are a minimum of 30 dobashes away at our current pace. I believe Kosmo can cut at least 10 dobashes off that time if we send him ahead with Keith.”
“Acknowledged, Krolia. We will await your arrival.”
The two paladins and Krolia fell into silence, all focusing on the Keith’s rough breathing. Shiro found himself holding his breath, each time Keith stopped breathing, only to exhale roughly when he heard the rough sounds start again. Shiro feared a rib had punctured his lungs, and the wet breathing sounds reflected the blood slowly leaking into the space. They had little in the way of medical equipment, the Alteans had relied heavily on their pod technology. Coran had slowly built up a supply of medical equipment found on less technologically advanced planets, and Krolia had brough along the medical kits supplied to the Blades. Shiro only hoped it would be enough.
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About 20 dobashes into the return trip, Kosmo abruptly disappeared with Keith, leaving Krolia and the two paladins folding up the stretch and breaking to a trot through the dense undergrowth to return quickly to camp. It took another 20 dobashes before they emerged into the clearing with the lions and the rest of the party, Kosmo obviously managing to transport Keith further than anticipated. Shiro and Krolia immediately ran to the Black Lion, where they saw Allura laying next to Keith on her side, one hand on his chest, the other cushioning her head.
Coran looked up at their approach and waved them away from the pair on the ground. They walked out of immediate earshot.
“Number 4 is out of immediate danger,” began Coran.
Shiro sent a worried look toward his brother, “Why do I hear a ‘but’ in that statement.”
“Because we have a potential problem. That vine that had wrapped around his ankle, embedded thorns into the Black paladin’s flesh, and had started to draw out his quintessence through absorbing his blood.” Coran glanced back at the two lying still in the grass. “Allura managed to stop the drain, and slow the internal bleeding, but she could not transfer enough quintessence to do more than that. Before she passed out from exhaustion, she mentioned the Black Lion had aided in stabilizing Number 4, but his low energy state did not allow him to do much. She is currently holding Keith stable, and passively using the planet’s energy to heal the damage caused by one of its creatures, but. . .”
“But?” asked Shiro as Coran’s pause continued longer than he liked.
“But the planet is fighting the transfer. It sees Keith as legitimate prey. Allura hopes by filtering through herself, she can restore Keith’s quintessence and disguise from the planet what she is doing. We think the plant embedded something in Keith that allows a connection even though there is no physical part of the planet still present, which makes a quandary. We need Allura connected to the planet to transfer the quintessence, but the only thing which could block the planet from still draining Keith is moving him off planet. At the present, Allura is restoring the quintessence faster than the planet can drain it from him without the active connection of the vine, but it is not leaving enough energy for Keith’s body to recover.”
“A catch-22,” murmured Shiro. “Like chemotherapy.” At the confused looks of both Coran and Krolia, he tried to explain, “Human medicine still relies on poisoning cancerous growths of the body, which also damages healthy cells and drains the person, in some instances making them feel sicker than if they did not receive treatment. Left unchecked, the growths will eventually kill the person. We had started making strides in alternative treatments, including targeted viruses to destroy the growth, but it is a slow process.”
“Ah. Primitive indeed. Not unlike using Grobruk venom to counteract the effects of the poison of the Garung plant.” Coran nodded to himself. “Right now, my main concern is the blood loss. His blood pressure is low from lack of volume, forcing his heart to work harder.”
“On Earth we would give him a transfusion from a blood donor, but that will not work here. Can we hook up at least a saline drip to increase the volume and give him some nutrients for his body to use?”
“How do you mean, Number 1?”
“Well, in the pods you can add a nutrient broth for the nanites use as an energy source? On Earth we give something similar through an IV, intravenous line, directly into a vein.”
Coran hmmmed and twisted one end of his moustache. “I can do that. I might even be able to add some nanites in, we have enough energy to create a few, and that would give them something to work with, and if I add in. . . yes!”
Without another word, he strode off toward Green where he had stored most of the medical supplies and to consult with Pidge if she had downloaded any data on what would go in this solution they used on Earth. Shiro watched him go, then exchanged a worried look with Krolia who abruptly walked off toward the forest.
“Krolia! Where are you going?”
“We still need supplies. I can do nothing more here, therefore I will continue Keith’s mission and retrieve what he had already collected.” With that, she strode off back the way they had come. Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it, turning back toward Keith and Allura. He walked over to kneel next to Keith. He had not allowed himself to look before but seeing the bruising on his face and listening to the rattling of his breath, heavy, wet sounds, he realized Coran’s assessment probably only touched the surface of the problems. Allura had not stirred at his approach, and he could see the exhaustion in her face. She looked. . . faded. Squinting his eyes, Shiro could see a faint glow surrounding her, and extending down her arm to Keith. Bowing his head, Shiro asked the Universe to cut Keith a break for once.
As he sat thinking, he wondered why the fates seemed to continually hit Keith with punch after punch. Surely, he could not have acted horridly enough in a former life for Karma to give him such suffering. He could only hope that at the end, the Universe would give his brother the life and legacy he deserved.
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