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Lotor caught a glimpse of his reflection in the metal sheeting of the service corridor he crept through. The soft purple glow of his helmet in the reflection caught his eye for a moment, though he kept moving forward at the same pace. Most of the helmets for the Guns of Gamara were green, which suited their rebellion and the new life they were trying to build, but as their leader and in memory of his destroyed empire, Lotor had the distinction of having a helmet with the rebellion symbol in Galra-purple. He also had a small version of the symbol of the Galra empire in a slightly darker gray centered on his chest – subtle, but present, in memory of those he had lost.
(There was another differently colored helmet back on their base: deep blue, the color of his lover’s eyes. It had never seen use and never would. Lotor had been a younger man when he made it, more naïve and hopeful. He still couldn’t bring himself to change the color back to green and give it to another rebel.)
The tip of Lotor’s blaster in his left hand glowed the standard green color, and his personal sword glowed purple at the hilt and the ends of the guard. He was trying to sneak through a large ship, and as familiar as the Altean design was in some regards, centuries of technological advancement had changed the ships’ layout. Even so, he navigated only by the light from his weapons; any other light was too much of a risk.
After a few long moments, he made his way to the target location, the computer service room. It was empty; the other team’s distraction was working well. “All clear,” he said over his helmet’s comms. As he waited for the rest of his team to arrive, he set to work, hacking into the computer and downloading files.
More rebels arrived within moments, and soon, a dozen storage devices were hooked up to tap the latest intel on the Altean Empire and its plans. This operation was abnormally risky for their small rebel group, but everything was going exactly to plan, and it looked like their hard work would pay off.
Alarms had been going off in other areas of the ship, but this section had been quiet while they worked. Not so anymore. Red light flooded the room and the corridor outside, and the rebels looked to Lotor with apprehension.
“Everyone, get out!” Lotor said without hesitation. They hadn’t gotten all of the data they wanted yet, but a clean escape was worth more than any further data could possibly be. They would make do with what they had already.
The rebels scrambled to erase the evidence of their work, to pack up, and to get out. Lotor helped and directed as much as he could, but he focused on looking out for the guards that were surely on their way. His operatives gathered up the data chips and then vanished, with about half the group going back the way they came and the other half taking an alternate route to increase the chances of at least some of the rebels rejoining the main force.
Once the room had been cleared, Lotor took a third route, going deeper into the ship to attract attention and distract the ship’s forces while his operatives got away. He was his own best fighter, and as their leader, this was his responsibility. He had to do what he could to ensure their survival.
Lotor rounded a corner and entered one of the main hallways, which was clear by the smooth tiles it had instead of metal sheeting. He expected to run across guards soon. Surely groups of them were rushing around the ship now.
But instead a group of guards, Lotor saw only one man, and time seemed to stop. The golden circlet in the man’s short, royal-white hair indicated his status as the prince of Altea. Lotor’s gaze travelled from the prince’s pointed ears, shorter than Lotor’s but still long and elegant, to his eyes, which were deeper and bluer than the Altean alchemic energy he could wield. He looked exactly the same as he had centuries ago, as if he’d stepped right out of Lotor’s dreams and onto this ship. The only difference, the only detail that was viscerally wrong was the new armor of the Altean Empire he wore now instead of the old, beautiful robes of the Kingdom of Altea.
“Lance.” Lotor breathed the name of his former lover like an oath whispered in the dark, like all of the broken promises that lied between them.
“Quiznak, Prince Lance is here?” a voice asked over the comms. It took Lotor a moment for his mind to catch up and register that it was Acxa, his second-in-command, who had spoken.
Lotor cleared his throat in the hopes of chasing away the heavy and tight feeling there as his emotions got the better of him. “Acxa, take charge. Lead the retreat. I will handle this. Do not wait for me.”
“Commander Lo—” Acxa began, but Lotor severed the com link.
Lance was just… standing there, sizing Lotor up. His beautifully blue eyes lingered on the symbol on Lotor’s chest and traced over the purple displayed on Lotor’s helmet. “Are you a captain?” His voice was casual, too casual. “I’ve never seen someone with a different-colored symbol before. And, heh, the symbol of the dead empire?” Lance smirked, and Lotor’s heart twisted, because that smirk looked so familiar and yet so wrong.
“I am the commander of the Guns of Gamara.” Despite the tight feeling in his chest, Lotor tried to keep his emotions out of his voice, and the voice modulator on his helmet rendered his tone robotic and cold.
“Commander, huh?” Lance questioned, but his eyes and expression betrayed a sort of confusion – had he partially recognized Lotor’s voice despite the vocal modulation through the helmet? “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to capture you.”
Lotor’s heart skipped a beat. Those words were familiar, and yet the tone was all wrong.
Lance smirked. “One of these days, I think I’ll just kidnap you.”
“Oh, really?” Lotor smiled back, indulging his lover’s game. “And what will the ransom be?”
“The entire Galra empire.”
“And what would you do with such a bounty?”
Lance laughed and kissed Lotor. “I’d give it all to you, my love.”
“You’d give me my own empire?” Lotor asked, amused.
“Hmm… well, I’d give you half ownership.”
“How generous.”
“And then we could rule side-by-side! Your parents can’t object if they’re not in charge, after all.”
Lotor huffed a laugh, pushing down the painful reminder of why their relationship had to remain a secret. “Such a wicked scheme,” he teased. “And you wouldn’t even give me back after the ransom was paid, would you?”
“Nope!” Lance looked far too cheery at his own confident declaration. “Besides, I already have your heart…”
A warm sensation filled Lotor’s chest. “You captured that long ago, beloved.”
Lotor kept his eyes on the prince. “What would you do with me then?” he asked, still keeping his voice neutral and unaffected.
Lance smirked in that way that was painfully unfamiliar, so unlike the mischievous smirk that used to grace his lips. “I’ll take you to my sister. She’ll be delighted to reform you.”
Nausea swept through Lotor at the thought of the ‘reform’ in question: the hoktril. Still, he acted nonchalant. “Perhaps, but only if you catch me.” He turned and immediately took off running.
Lance cursed as he chased after Lotor, attempting to fire at non-lethal points on Lotor’s body, yet missing every time as Lotor anticipated exactly what Lance planned to do and dodged accordingly. Even after centuries, his ex-lover was too predictable. He always went for the knees first, then the hands, then the feet. It was too easy. It made Lotor uncomfortable.
As both Lotor and Lance ran flat-out, the former prince led the latter on a long chase through a maze of corridors. Finally, Lotor was far enough ahead that he reached a room a few ticks before Lance. He darted to the side and pressed his back against the wall beside the door. It was a simple trick, but it was one that Lance had always fallen for back when the princes sparred together. Sure enough, Lance ran full speed into the room, stopping halfway in when he realized that he was at a dead-end. Instead of immediately looking behind him, he did what he’d always done and looked around in front of him first, giving Lotor enough time to drop his sword and tackle Lance from behind.
In Lotor’s mind, he expected this to be easy, but it seemed that Lance’s fighting skills had improved. He slipped away from Lotor’s grasp, turning and training his gun on the commander. Lotor still had his blaster in his off hand, and he fired a shot at Lance’s feet, which he easily dodged away from. Quickly grabbing his sword, Lotor dodged Lance’s returned fire and advanced on the prince. The two of them stayed locked in combat, playing out a familiar pattern, movements synching in a familiar dance. Lotor could almost imagine that they were young again, simply sparring together as they often had.
“I’m not sure this is a normal combat tactic,” Lance teased, as if he had any right to sound so smug while pinned on the ground. The two princes’ bodies were just a little too close, the position just a little too intimate.
“But it is rather effective, don’t you think?” Lotor smirked down at his ‘captive’.
Lance raised an eyebrow before lifting his hips, meeting Lotor’s in a grind that was definitely not a normal combat tactic. “Hmm… I’m unconvinced…”
The mood shifted from suggestive to sexual, and Lotor could feel arousal starting to stir. “Bedroom, now.” He shifted to let Lance up.
The Altean laughed as he easily stood, as if hours of training hadn’t tired him in the least. “Come on then, my star.” His eyes promised pleasure as he led the way to his bedroom…
Reality mirrored memory as Lotor got the better of Lance, and in a movement all too familiar to him, he pinned his ex-boyfriend under him. Heat flowed through him as he remembered just how much he’d missed Lance and how long it had been, and Lance was right there under him, and yet… Lance’s blue eyes shone with panic and rage, pulling Lotor out of his desire, though not quite out of his memory. "Duulkor," Lotor murmured to comfort him, the word slipping past his lips before he could stop himself.
Shock and pain joined the fear and anger in Lance’s eyes as he froze under Lotor. “Sweetheart…?” he questioned, effortlessly translating the Galra word. “What…?”
Lotor sat up, still kneeling over Lance’s legs but giving him enough room to also sit up as Lotor deactivated the faceplate of his helmet. “Greetings, beloved.” He gave a wry smile.
Lance inhaled sharply, looking at Lotor with a mix of shock and wonder. “Lotor? How?” He lifted a hand up towards Lotor’s face, freezing halfway as he hesitated. “I-I thought you were dead. Allura said…”
Unable to stop himself, Lotor brought one hand up to the side of Lance’s face. Lance closed his eyes and subconsciously leaned into the touch, allowing Lotor to cradle his head. They stayed like that for a long, fragile moment. Lotor did not dare to move or speak for fear he would shatter the mood.
Lance finally looked up, and his eyes were filled with so much pain and longing that Lotor’s heart broke. Lance touched Lotor’s shoulders, first with one hand, then with the other, and stayed like that for a moment, just holding on like he was afraid to let go. His hands slid up from Lotor’s shoulders to the back of his neck and then up to the back of his head, pulling him down into a kiss. It was hesitant and sweet at first, a mere brush of their lips, but Lance soon pressed harder and deepened it.
Lotor did not resist, even when Lance’s hands tugged on Lotor’s hair, pulling him backwards toward the ground. He simply followed the movement until he was lying on his back with Lance on top of him. Some sane part of his mind screamed that this was stupid, that he was allowing himself to be pinned down by the enemy, but he mostly didn’t care, so long as Lance kept kissing him like that. Even when they broke for air, they took mere moments to catch their breaths before they were kissing again. Lotor kept one hand against Lance’s face and wrapped the other around his waist, holding him tightly, afraid to let to.
Finally, Lance pulled away and turned his head. Lotor gave him a moment to compose himself. When Lance looked back, his eyes still shone with pain and longing and confusion. “I have to know,” he whispered, quieter than his breath. “Are you really the rebel leader?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Lance’s voice broke slightly. “Why would you betray me like that?”
Lotor began to stroke Lance’s hair soothingly, running his fingers through the short locks. “I love you, and I never meant to hurt you, but what Allura is doing is despicable.”
“Y—” Lance started, stopping with a huff instead. He pulled away from Lotor’s touch and rolled off of him, getting up enough to kneel beside Lotor. “Your father destroyed our home planet,” he spat with a venom Lotor had never heard from him before. “He killed my father! We almost lost everything.”
“I know.” Lotor sat up. “I was the one who sent the warning. I never approved of anything my father did, but I especially did not approve of that. What he did was wrong. But Allura?” He felt his pulse quicken with anger as he remembered seeing the broadcasts, the public executions, the declaration that she would not stop until every Galra was dead. “Allura became a monster in response. When she fought against my parents, I aided her. I was ready to thank her for her help in defeating them. But then she went on to destroy my people. And you sat back and let her.”
Lance faltered slightly. “She just… wanted peace…”
“She betrayed us, Lance. Don’t you remember our plans?”
The Altean had the nerve to scoff. “Children’s dreams…”
Lotor seized Lance’s hand. “I know. I know they seemed unlikely. I know it would have been nearly impossible, but I meant it , Lance. I wanted nothing more than to have you at my side, ruling together.”
Lance’s eyes shifted away from Lotor’s gaze. “As if the Galra would have ever accepted me as their king.”
“Maybe your official title would have had to have been ‘prince consort,’ but even so, we could have been together. You could have been at my side as I led the Galra empire. We had so many plans for how to improve it, don’t you remember?” He held Lance’s hand between both of his own, trying to convey more than his words could express.
“I… remember, yes.” Lance looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t pull away. “But that’s all gone now. We can’t get that back.”
“No, we can’t.” Lotor squeezed his hand a little tighter. “But Lance, your sister is still trying to destroy everything she touches. She must be stopped. Millions are suffering.”
“Altea brings peace—”
“Altea brings destruction and pain and slavery! If you had seen even half the things I see in a single phoeb…”
Lance snatched his hand back. “We’re trying to help lesser civilizations!”
“And what makes you better than them? Faster ships? Fancier technology? More reliable communication? If you really wanted to help, you could give them those things or offer to trade with them without forcing your ways upon them.”
“But so many suffer in those places! We can end that suffering!”
“Through force? Lance, listen to yourself! You claim to be so much better than them and then say that you’re helping them. Can you help someone you don’t respect?”
Lance finally became quiet at that. He looked away, avoiding Lotor’s gaze.
“Darling…” Lotor placed a very light hand on Lance’s forearm. “Altea was… never perfect. I’ve had to come to terms with that when talking to rebels from other planets who have told stories of extortion and corruption long before war broke out. Your father was a kind man, and I believe he did his best. He was simply… misguided.”
“Don’t speak of him.” Lance pulled away with a cold glare.
“I know that what my parents did was unforgivable,” Lotor said slowly. “I am not suggesting it wasn’t. They deserved their fate, and I do not blame Allura for killing them. As I said, I helped her with that.” His heart was pounding in his chest, and even when he took a deep breath, he still couldn’t center himself. “But… Dayak deserved to live. Bogh, Ladnok, Trugg — they died honorably in combat, and even their deaths were unnecessary and weigh on me, but Dayak was a civilian. Acxa’s mother was a civilian. My cousins, Sendak’s sister and nephew, Ezor’s father, Lahn’s twin brother — we’ve all lost civilian friends and family, people who weren’t part of this conflict and didn’t deserve to die.”
“Stop that. Stop it.” Lance turned away and curled in himself, like he was trying to shield himself from Lotor’s words.
Lotor bit back the rest. He had far more he could say, but he suspected it would only hurt at this point, not help. “Lance… I don’t hold you responsible for any of this. I know the… the influence your sister has always had on you. I know you look up to her. I don’t doubt that she’s kept you in the dark about the true extent of the horrors of this conquest.”
“Stop! Stop.”
“Alright.” Lotor held his hands up in surrender. “Alright.”
Lance stayed turned away, and Lotor stayed back, completely at a loss for what to do. He realized he’d pushed too far already, and as much as he wished he could soothe his former lover, he doubted anything he could do would help. As the ticks stretched into doboshes and passed in silence, Lotor started to worry about his crew. Were they exposed? Were they waiting for him? How would he get away if they had to leave without him?
It seemed like Lance had the same idea as he finally stood and looked back over his shoulder. “You should go. I’ll pretend I didn’t see you.”
A small part of Lotor wanted to protest, but he knew he should’ve left much sooner. He rose to his feet as well. “You… Lance, you could come with us.”
The prince shook his head. “No. My place is at Allura’s side.” But there was uncertainty now in his eyes even as he said that.
“The door will always be open for you.” Lotor reached towards him, hesitating for just a moment before placing his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “It’s never too late. If you want to find me, meet me at the place where we went the first time we snuck off-planet together.”
Lance still looked conflicted. “Go. Get out of here.”
Lotor bent down and brushed his lips over Lance’s forehead in a ghost of a kiss. “Farewell, duulkor.”
With that, he left. He made it back to his ship safely, but his chest ached as though he had left his heart behind on the base.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The bases under Prince Lance’s control were always easier to attack. His defenses would have exploits hidden to the untrained eye but perfect for rebels to take advantage of, his computer systems would have frankly amateur backdoors, and his troops would always fumble their response whenever the Guns of Gamara infiltrated them and were caught in the act. Lotor pretended not to notice, but the rest of his command certainly did.
They speculated that the prince was careless, reckless. Lotor knew better.
He tried not to think about it too much. Perhaps Lance felt guilt over what Lotor had told him, but giving the rebels the occasional easy victory could not even begin to make up for the continuous harm he was doing under the Empress’s command. If he wanted to help from the inside, he could feed them essential data and intel, sabotage operations on an empire-wide scale, and coordinate with their forces on attacks. Lotor had even asked one hidden rebel in the palace who was about to leave anyway to risk cover by talking to Lance and subtly offering him a way to help. Lance made it clear he knew the operative was a rebel and let them go anyway without arresting them, but he refused the offer to join the rebellion.
Fine. Let him stew in his guilt and try to buy forgiveness with half-measures. Lotor didn’t need him.
The blue helmet remained in Lotor’s quarters, mocking him.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Lotor was pouring over a battle map with Sendak, Gnov, Kolivan, Coran, and Ryner all gathered around it. In the past, the different factions had issues working together. Kolivan was one of a cluster of Galra rebels who had rebelled against Emperor Zarkon the moment he declared war on the Alteans. Sendak led a Galra loyalist faction who had turned on Lotor when his part in his father’s death was discovered. Gnov was a commander of a distant quadrant of the Galra Empire near the Outer Rim who had started gathering as many of the outermost forces as she could when she heard of Zarkon’s downfall. Coran was Altean and had initially supported Empress Allura before turning on her and leading a splinter faction of Alteans to the rebel cause. Ryner led the Olkari ever since their king was overthrown in a coup after he was caught supporting the Altean Empire with weapons and technology, and while she had initially avoided openly helping the rebels, an Altean invasion had forced her hand, and she and the other Olkari who had escaped were now helping the Guns of Gamara.
It was a very mixed group, to say the least. Even after tens of decapheobes working together (and centuries since the war had begun), the factions that made up the united Guns of Gamara still had clear divides between them, despite how many assorted rebels of many different races had now joined the cause without being part of any particular faction or had sworn their loyalty to Lotor directly. Managing the other leaders and finding compromises was a tiring task, and Lotor had to balance diplomacy with command, lest the others forget that this was his operation and it would ultimately fall apart without clear and efficient leadership.
If it hadn’t been for his generals, he likely would have been driven insane long ago. His four generals supported and helped him greatly, and he was grateful for their companionship and loyal service. Yet even with his easy comradery with them, he still felt his rank over them weighing on his relationship with them. They were all a bit younger than him, and he’d trained them himself. They looked up to him like an older brother, and while their relationship was warm and full of jokes and teasing, he could never shake the feeling that they still saw him as other, as being above them and superior to them.
Then again, was that so surprising? He’d only ever truly connected with two people, two companions he could call his peers in rank and power. Allura had always been a little too similar to himself, a little too much of a rival to truly trust, despite how well they got along. But Lance…
Lotor shook his head and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. No point in dwelling on the past. He had to keep moving forward.
By the time the meeting was wrapping up, Lotor was about ready to head to the training deck. It was the best way to work out his recurring melancholy and sharpen his focus. Perhaps he would challenge Sendak to another sparring match. Sendak was the only person who could really keep up with him in terms of raw stamina, and what he lacked in finesse he made up for in power. Lotor generally won their sessions, but at least Sendak was always a challenge for him.
Yet as the others rose from the table, before Lotor could call Sendak and make his offer, Ezor stepped inside and headed directly to him. “Lotor, there’s a message for you, marked as high importance. An operative on Nuzquam says that there’s an Altean man asking for you. He refuses to give his name, but he says you would know him as ‘duulkor.’ Isn’t that Galra for sweet—”
“I need to go immediately.” Lotor rushed towards the door, and Ezor stumbled over her own feet to keep up, despite her longer legs and larger strides. “Prepare a ship and tell Acxa and Zethrid to get ready to trail me in two more small ships. This is urgent.”
“Are you— of course you’re sure. Fine. Yes, Lotor.” Ezor headed off in another direction, and Lotor continued on until he reached his quarters.
There, in the darkest corner of his closet, he found the helmet. It looked ordinary, but as he put it on, it lit up blue. He took it off again. Perhaps he should leave it behind, but… he slipped it into a bag and prepared his own weapons and armor. Within mere moments, he was ready to go.
It took very little time to get into a ship, and hardly longer for the speedy little fighters to make it to Nuzquam. He left Acxa and Zethrid in orbit while he landed alone on the planet’s surface near the safehouse with the operative who had sent the message.
There, standing under the planet’s dazzling sunlight, stood a completely unrecognizable Altean man, but Lotor knew better. He made his helmet visor clear so that the man could see his face. “Duulkor. You finally came.”
The Altean shifted form until he was back to looking like the lover that Lotor had always known. “Lotor. I… I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t leave with you right then and there.”
Lotor took off his own helmet and set it aside along with his weapons and the bag with the other helmet. “I’m just glad you’re here now, Lance.” He held his arms open.
Lance ran into his embrace and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I realized you’re right. You’ve been right all along.”
Lotor ran his fingers through Lance’s hair. “I’m glad you’ve come, love.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’d always hoped you would.”
“Even after you told me the truth, I…” He looked down in shame. “Well, at first I couldn’t accept it. Then, I tried to convince Allura to see reason. It was only when she threatened me with the hoktril if I questioned her methods one more time that I finally decided I couldn’t be a part of this anymore.”
“You have a place here with us. You can help us take her down.”
“I hope so. I’m afraid I won’t be very useful now, though. If she wasn’t suspicious already, she’ll be really suspicious now once she finds out I took a ship and vanished without leaving any record of where I was going. I don’t think I can go back and work undercover.”
“That’s alright. Even your disappearance will destabilize the command structure, and I’m certain the intel you have now will help us for pheobs or decapheobes. This will give us opportunities.”
“Not as much as if I’d been more careful.”
“Lance.” Lotor tucked his hair behind his ear and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone just at the edge of his blue marking. “Perhaps as the rebel leader, I should be more focused on tactics and pragmatic solutions, but… honestly, I am so very glad to have you here. I have missed you greatly, and I would worry for you constantly if you stayed undercover.”
“Oh.” Lance looked up, finally meeting Lotor’s eyes and holding his gaze. “Do you really mean that?”
“My dearest love.” Lotor caressed his cheek, tracing the pad of his thumb over the mark on his cheekbone. “Of course I do. I want you here at my side. I don’t want to spend another day apart from you if I can help it.”
Lance seemed at a loss for words, but he suddenly rose up onto his toes and pulled Lotor down into a desperate kiss. It seemed like he was trying to make up for centuries apart in mere moments, and Lotor reciprocated with no less eagerness as he ran his hands down his lover’s back.
When they finally broke apart, Lotor reached into the bag he’d dropped and pulled out the helmet. “This is for you. I designed it long ago, in the hopes I could give it to you one day.” He put it on and lit it up, showing off its unique coloration.
“For me? Lotor, I… it’s…” He shook his head, laughing incredulously. “The color is perfect. Thank you.”
Lotor took it off and handed it over. “Put it on. I want to see you in it.”
Lance slipped it on, and it immediately lit up again. The visor was currently un-tinted, so his face was visible behind the glowing blue symbol, from his Altean marks to his little smile to his beautiful eyes. “What do you think?”
“It’s perfect, duulkor.” Lotor put his own helmet back on and held his hand out to Lance. “Come on, General Lance of the Guns of Gamara. Let’s get you back to base.”
“Yes sir, Commander Lotor.” Lance took his hand and squeezed it affectionately. In that moment, it felt like the scattered pieces of Lotor’s life finally clicked together, and even though their situation was still far from perfect, he felt more hopeful he could set it right again with his lover’s help.