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Not for the first time, Lance wondered if hooking up with aliens made him a furry. No judgement… Lance didn't kink-shame... not even himself. It was more of a philosophical debate he kept falling into.
Just.. did aliens count or was there another term for that, one he just didn't know?
A tug on his hand distracted him from his thoughts and brought his attention back to what had sparked that particular tangent.
Rulliria.
More specifically, Captain Rulliria Konsti of the Trylix Planetary guard, an absolutely gorgeous alien with long curly hair the color of caramel sauce, large coppery eyes, an enticing smile… and, yes, a supple layer of short, black fur. It felt more like velvet than any animal’s coat he’d ever encountered, and aside from some rather noticeable fangs, it was pretty much the only thing that made her look different from a human super model.
Seriously, she was gorgeous!
She was also a total badass, and funny, and an excellent dancer, so he’d have to be absolutely nuts not to follow along when she’d tugged him into a corner, kissed him and whispered ‘let’s get out of here’ like he’d suddenly stumbled into an awesome movie or something.
Definitely worth risking a lecture from Coran, Allura, and Shiro on the proper protocols for inter-species socializing.
Listen… ever since the Voltron Show, people were very curious to find out why they called him “Loverboy Lance”... and honestly? That was on Coran, not him. He was just… doing his job and playing the role Coran assigned him.
Yup.
Totally not his fault.
He was still running on a bit of an adrenaline rush when they made their way back to the Castle of Lions in the wee hours of the morning, so it wasn’t until he woke and his entire back felt like it was on fire that he got the first inkling that something might be… you know… off.
Fighting through the weirdly feverish ache in his joints and heat in his blood, he dragged himself out of bed and into the little en suite bathroom. He hadn’t bothered with his usual bedtime routine, forgoing even pjs. He’d just peeled out of his armor, tossed the undersuit into the auto-cleaning drawers and fallen into bed.
There was no denying that he needed a shower. Like, he really needed some time under hot water with a bar of soap… and to brush his teeth- blech. But first, he had to figure out what was going on with him.
He’d heard the lectures so much that they could practically autoplay in his head like his favorite songs.
‘Alien environments are rich in bacteria, viruses, parasites and any number of harmful microbes. We have technology to safeguard you, and the Castleship is calibrated for a wide range of species and races, but it’s database is millennia old… and we have an incredibly small sample size for human biology. Any sign of sickness must be immediately brought to our attention!’
Allura’s voice was clear as a bell in his mind as he blinked against the too-bright light of the bathroom and squinted at his reflection.
‘It is our responsibility as Paladins to ensure that we are always in top form for fighting. We cannot risk exposing ourselves to communicable illnesses that humans have no ancestral protection against. Report every single injury- no matter what. If the skin is broken, it needs to be seen to.’ And, okay, admittedly, that particular lecture from Shiro had been directed at Keith and his penchant for getting into random fistfights pretty much anytime he was left unsupervised… but it still stuck with Lance.
But it was the many, many lectures from Coran about the strict rules about ‘fraternizing’ with potential allies that were really hitting home as his eyes adjusted and he spotted a fresh, red, angry bite low on his neck, in that fun little spot that wasn’t really his throat but also wasn’t his shoulder. The one that never failed to make his toes curl and… quiznak, that was definitely broken skin! Four small, precise punctures- raised and scabbed over.
Fangs.
Rulliria had fangs.
Crap.
Crapcrapcrapcrap…
Fear chilled his blood a little. Which honestly? Was kind of a relief, because he felt a lot like he had a sunburn on the inside of his skin somehow. Taking a deep breath he twisted in front of the mirror.
Oh!
OW!
Twisting wasn’t fun at all!
And no wonder!
His entire back was a lattice of scratches!
How the heck had he not noticed those as they happened?!?!?
He was not someone who prided himself on getting injured during a hook-up!
Loverboy Lance!
Not… some kind of freaking caveman!
Man, the others would never let him live this down!
Shiro would be soooo disappointed in him.
Lance could see the look of resignation and something bordering on shame that would wash over their leader’s face so perfectly.
He’d seen it often enough already.
Coran would… he’d sigh and shake his head. Then he’d probably rock back on his heels, and twist his moustache with a booming ‘Alright my boy, let’s get you in a pod!’ Most people would take it at face value, the way they usually did with the boisterous man. But Lance would see it. He’d see the little flicker and dim of those bright eyes. He’d see the small slump of his shoulders. All the little tells that Coran had if you paid attention. All the tiny ways that he showed just how terrified he was that they were not up to the task ahead of them. That Lance specifically wasn’t up to the challenge.
That he was the weakest of them.
The one that would cause them all to fail.
And Allura… beautiful, brave, selfless, noble Allura, who held them all to the high standards she set for herself… she’d hear about this and…
Nope.
There was no way that he could do that.
She’d just started to see him as something other than a nuisance!
She’d actually started to joke around with him sometimes. She’d commended his progress in training. She’d actually said ‘you are finally showing us what the Blue Lion saw in you. Keep up the good work!’ to him the other day!
This was… not a big deal.
It was… little more than scrapes he might get fighting a training droid.
He’d just… take his shower and wash out all the little cuts really well, then use the first aid kit in his Lion to patch himself up.
No big deal.
He could handle this on his own.
No need to get yelled at.
No need to worry Coran, or disappoint Shiro, or disillusion Allura.
He could be capable and responsible.
He could do better.
He could… even… avoid breaking the ‘no fraternizing’ rule again.
Loverboy Lance was officially retired.
Hunk did another slow spin, big brown eyes scanning the room once more before he let out a sigh. “Lance? Can you keep the mice away from that bowl of marinated Glonger beast meat? I need to grab something from hydroponics.”
“Sure thing, bud,” Lance answered easily as he grabbed yet another water pouch. Damn, he’d been thirsty lately! “No mice near the food. Pretty low bar you are setting there. Fairly sure I can manage that.”
“Knew I could count on you. Be right back!” He gave a little finger wave and ducked out of the kitchen.
Pouch empty, Lance tossed it into the reciprocal that would recycle and refill it, and grabbed another one. He was hungry, too.
Like… ravenously hungry.
Absentmindedly, he popped one of the yellow and purple speckled things that smelled divine, tasted like carrots and looked kinda like tiny dragonfruit into his mouth… and grimaced.
Gross!
There was no way he could swallow that!
Bordering on frantic, he glanced around for a serviette to spit it into. It was a short search because he needed that thing away from his tastebuds A-S-A-quiznaking-P. In the span of just a few heartbeats he gave up, resorting to using the kitchen sink, rinsing away any trace of it.
Still… he was starving, and something smelled delicious.
Any other day, he’d get a bowl of goo, but he could already tell that would be a very bad idea.
Frustrated and impatient, he plopped himself down into a chair with a sigh.
Why was he so stiff and achey? Why was he so hungry? Was he gearing up for another growth spurt?
God, he hoped not!
The last one gave him a whole two inches and involved weeks of shooting pains in his legs and shoulders that disrupted his sleep, on top of mood swings and exhaustion and never feeling full.
It sucked!
I mean, sure… he liked the idea of being tall- who wouldn’t? But he still hadn’t filled back out from the last one! Even with the intense training schedule and his regular work-outs and fighting in actual freaking battles, he was still greeted with a gangly, lanky, too-thin reflection every time he looked in the mirror.
Veronica would still be calling him ‘noodle-boy’ if she wasn’t on the other side of the universe!
Another growth spurt would only make all of that worse!
Ooh!
Maybe he was starting to bulk up!!!
Yes!
That had to be it!
He’d finally hit a point where he was going to pack on some muscle! Sweeeet!
That’s why he was so hungry!
He needed more calories, more protein.
“What the hell are you doing, McClain?” Keith’s voice startled him out of his thoughts.
“Me?” He asked, suddenly realising that he was talking around a mouthful of food.
“Pretty sure you are the only McClain on board,” Keith muttered, “unless you got married in secret in the last few days or something.”
“Awww,” he cooed once he swallowed whatever he’d been snacking on, “you worried that you weren’t invited? Don’t worry, buddy, when I get married all the Paladins will be invited.”
“I’m worried because you are digging into a bowl of what I’m pretty sure is raw meat like it’s popcorn,” countered Keith, crossing his arms over his chest and doing what Lance had come to think of as Keith’s ‘Shiro impression’.
“Ummmm….”
“Lance!” Hunk sounded horrified, standing in the doorway for all of a tick before he came barrelling toward Lance and pulling the bowl out of Lance’s (very bloody- ew! ) hands, “that is wild Glonger beast!!”
“Wild Glonger beast tartare, ” he quipped, sliding off his seat to go wash his hands, because seriously? Ewww…
“Tartare is a very specific method of preparing very specific cuts of meats to make them safe for consumption,” tsked Hunk. “It’s not just raw meat!! How much of this did you eat?!?! Keith??? Were you eating it, too?”
“I know you guys like to joke about me being ‘feral’ and shit, but I actually learned how to hunt as a kid! I know not to eat wild game raw!” Keith sounded so indignant and insulted that Lance would have laughed if he wasn’t already in the process of trying to sneak past them while they were distracted.
“This is half gone! It was supposed to feed the whole team! Lance? How much of- Lance?!?! Where do you think you are-”
“Gotta go!” he called out, breaking into a run. “I’m late… for… uh… some quality time with my Lion. Buh-bye!”
He had actually been intending to book it to Red, wanting the warm comfort of his fiery Lion, but he’d barely cleared the corner when his knees started to give out. It was all he could do to duck into one of the many unused rooms in the Castle and seal the door behind him before succumbing to full body shakes.
What the quiznak was all that?!?!
How had he been eating without even noticing??
Why had he been eating raw meat?!?!
For all his joking around about tartare, he was a guy that liked his meat slow cooked until it was falling apart. Maybe… maybe if he was at a ritzy steakhouse he might order it medium.
But never rare!
And yet…
There was no denying the blood and marinade that had been all over his hands. Even after washing them, they still felt slightly sticky and he could still smell the tantalizing aroma of it.
He should be grossed out.
He should be disgusted.
He wasn’t.
He was definitely unnerved!
But he wasn’t grossed out or disgusted… he just felt… full.
Full.
Like he’d really gotten his money’s worth at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
The little aches, and off-putting sensation of his skin being just a tad too snug had faded out, too. He wasn’t even thirsty.
A big part of him really, really wanted to rush back to the kitchen and grab the bowl of the meat.
Hoard it away- which… logically, was a terrible idea.
Raw meat? Hidden away in his quarters or his Lion?
Nasty!
Maybe he should talk to Coran?
Nope!
Talking to Coran would mean he’d insist on running tests. Maybe put him in a pod. Maybe even bench him while they figured it out.
And then what?!?
They’d learned how disastrous it was to be down a Lion even for a short period while Keith was with the Blade and Black was unresponsive to Shiro- and even though Lance knew that Red still had a soft spot for Keith, he also knew that the Guardian Lion of Fire would ice over before Keith would regain that particular pilot’s seat.
Tensions were riding high.
The fighting was ramping up.
The Universe needed a fully functional Voltron. Four individual lions just wouldn’t cut it in a fire fight.
There was no way Lance would be able to live with himself if people on innocent worlds suffered because he’d been pulled from duty!
God forbid one of his teammates were killed or captured because they couldn’t form Voltron, or the fastest, most agile Lion wasn’t in the field!
Just the thought made his blood run cold and he felt hot tears trace over his cheeks.
Did any of them really even understand how much they meant to him? How they’d become a surrogate family for him while they were so far from home? How much he admired and emulated them?
Pidge was so brilliant and brave.
Hunk was so strong and gentle.
Shiro was so resilient and steadfast.
Allura was so regal and inspiring.
Even Keith, his rival… former rival? Whatever. He even admired and emulated Keith- he was a hot-head and a loner and prickly as hell, but the guy was an amazing pilot and better fighter.
He had no illusions that he was anything more than an average guy surrounded by exceptional people.
So, he had to work extra hard to make sure he was pulling his weight and that meant he couldn’t risk being grounded because of a little weirdness!
This whole thing was… silly.
He was just filling out after a growth spurt.
No big deal.
He’d be fine.
This was completely manageable without help.
So, why was he still crying and terrified?
He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten to the morning briefing, but since he was slumped in a chair listening to Allura and Coran update them on the most recent list of allies to join the Voltron coalition, he must have gotten there somehow.
“Ummm?” Hunk said, actually raising his hand like they were back in school. Or maybe Lance just made that connection because Hunk was wearing his cadet uniform for some reason. “You didn’t mention the Trylix.”
“Ah yes,” Coran cleared his throat, “was just getting to the Trylix.” He slid his gaze to Allura who suddenly looked very uncomfortable.
“It seems,” she said, her voice quiet and laced with some emotion Lance couldn’t quite identify, “that shortly after we left their planet one of the military personnel that we were honoring… fell ill…” Her voice broke and she took a bracing breath, “Captain Rulliria Konsti passed away last night.”
Rulliria!
Lance couldn’t breathe. His lungs just… refused to move air.
He had to breathe.
Had to breathe.
Had to.
Had to had to had to… crap Coran was talking!
“-will not tolerate such accusations. Just because human blood contains an enzyme their race is especially vulnerable to doesn’t mean that that was how she was exposed to it. We have complete faith in all of you and will not ally ourselves with a species that would malign the Paladins!”
The table erupted in outrage, but all Lance could do was sit there. Silent.
Rullira was dead.
“I mean,” interjected Pidge, “how does that even make sense? None of us knew about that, and even if we did, how the quiznak would we get any of them to ingest our blood?”
Oh.
Oh no!
The bite!
Nonononono…
He’d cost them an allied world!
He’d killed Rullira!
His throat closed off and, starting to shake, he shot to his feet, ready to run from the room when all eyes turned to him.
“Lance!” gasped Allura, her face a mask of horror, “what did you do?!?”
“Nothing!” he screeched, “I liked Rulliria! I would never hurt her! Never! NEVER!”
His own cries woke him and he bolted upright in bed, clammy, sweat-damp sheets sticking to him. Slowly, reality sank in and he realised he was in his quarters, not the briefing room.
Just a nightmare.
Vivid and horrifying, but not real.
Nothing but a bad dream.
Variations of the nightmare repeated every night for a solid week. It was messing with his head. Every morning he’d sit in the morning briefing and fight to stay awake, fight to focus, waiting to hear an announcement that the alliance with the Trylix had been finalized.
Nothing.
Not a single mention.
It was driving him nuts.
He had to know that everything was going well.
That he hadn’t somehow ruined everything with his recklessness.
He couldn’t believe that he’d ever justified his breach of protocol to himself… all for what? One night with an attractive, interested alien?
Was he really that selfish? That immature? That hormone-driven?
That lonely?
He was surrounded by friends and teammates that cared about him- when they formed Voltron, he could feel their affection for him in the link. Just like he could feel his bond with his Lion.
But, once he left the cockpit… that seemed to fade from his memory… and he just felt… so… alone.
Today’s briefing was… well… brief. Barring an emergency, the only things on the itinerary for the day were the usual trainings and Castleship maintenance.
Just a normal day in the life of the Paladins.
He stayed in his seat as everyone else headed out once they were dismissed. He couldn’t handle another night like the ones he’d been having. He had to at least check-in with Coran.
Make sure there weren’t any issues holding things up. It had been, like, a phoeb already!
“Lance, my boy,” Coran said brightly, “you are free to leave. Unless there’s something you want to speak to me about? The Princess, perhaps?”
“The Princess? Allura? Umm… no. Not about her.” He shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Actually… I wanted to ask… about… uh… the Trylix.”
“Oh?” The Altean rocked on his heels, stirring up images from Lance’s nightmares that made his heart race and his mood shift. Fear, worry, and guilt welled within him, making him fidget.
“Just… it’s been… awhile, you know? It seemed like… when we left there…” He swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat out of nowhere. His feet tapped out an uneven rhythm because he couldn’t sit still. This was such a bad idea! “It seemed like everything was… you know… good to go?”
“Mmm,” Coran nodded, “yes, we certainly seemed to have formed a solid start to allying with them. You seem… concerned, though? Do you have any… worries? Was there something that you saw or heard that might suggest we shouldn’t proceed?”
“What?” his voice cracked, the word coming out as a high pitched squeak that only made him feel more self-conscious and panicky. “Me?!? No! I just-”
“-because I hope you are aware that we trust your judgement.” Coran continued, which was probably the worst thing he could have said, really. Because Lance knew that they really, really shouldn’t trust his judgement at all! His judgement was seriously flawed! “Now that you mention it, I did notice that there was a period during the releveries where you were… absent. Did you see something? Hear something?”
“No! No no no… nothing like that!” Oh God, this was going from bad to worse!
“We shouldn’t be too eager to trust new planets- as we saw from what happened with Puig. If you did… even if it was something minor- if your instincts are telling you we should be cautious…”
“Lance?” Shiro’s voice was soft, but it startled him all the same. When had Shiro come back? Why did he have that pale, shocky look on his face? “Did something happen to you? At the party? You were gone for quite awhile, but they had that garden with the fountain that you’d mentioned- we all assumed you were just exploring it. Were you threatened?”
“Threatened? What? No!” He shook his head like it was on a swivel, panic creeping up his spine. Oh, this was bad. Somehow he’d managed to make everything worse!
“Lance,” barely more than a whisper, but there was something… dark… in Shiro’s tone, and his eyes had gone hard and haunted. Oh God… after everything he’d gone through with the Galra, of course Shiro would be… “It’s very important that you tell us. Did the Trylix hurt you? Threaten you? Coerce you into something? You know we’ll believe you, right? That we trust you? Because we do. No alliance is worth overlooking mistreating you. You’re a Paladin and very capable in the field… but you’re still a kid in a lot of ways. It makes you, all of you, vulnerable to-”
“No!” Good God! What did Shiro think had gone down?!? What would he think if he knew the truth? That ‘still a kid’ comment! Would he think that Rulliria had… oh quiznak! There was no way he could say anything now! “Nothing! They didn’t do anything bad to me! I swear! I promise! I’m fine! Completely fine!”
“Then what was it that prompted your concern?” Coran asked, seemingly oblivious to the dark implications of Shiro’s questions.
“Nothing! I just… it’s been awhile… and there were no updates… and…”
“It’s not uncommon for there to be a gap between meeting with a new people and solidifying an alliance,” pointed out Coran. “Trylix has a complicated governmental structure and multiple countries. There are very real risks to joining forces against the Galra. Those would be hotly debated within their governments.”
“Right,” he nodded, knowing the movements were herky-jerky and too big but unable to make himself act normally. “Yeah… of course… the government. Debates and all that… right.”
“Lance,” Shiro repeated, pinning him with those grey eyes of his, all full of shadows and pain. “Are you absolutely certain that there is nothing you feel that we should know? That we should be considering as a reason to sever our discussions with the Trylix?”
“Nothing!” he insisted, dragging his sweaty palms down the worn denim of his old jeans. “There’s nothing! Nothing at all! I just… it’s been weeks and I wanted… like, an update or whatever.”
“Are you alright, dear boy? You seem… unusually agitated.”
“Agitated!?” All the fear and worry and regret seemed to crystalize within him and then crack, giving way to irritation and defensiveness. He found himself on his feet without any memory of standing. “I just wanted to like… ask a simple question and I’m being grilled! Of course I’m agitated!” Grabbing his datapad, he shook his head and pushed past the older men, “it wasn’t a big deal! Why’d you have to turn it into such a headache? Whatever! Never mind! I won’t make the mistake of trying to be more informed again. Geez! I gotta go- Allura has me scheduled for targeting sims… and suddenly I really wanna shoot stuff.”
“Lance!” They chorused, shock clear in both voices.
“I’m going to be late!” he snapped, striding out the door and down the hall.
He wasn’t late.
Even distracted and exhausted, Allura was very pleased with his scores on the sim. She kept gushing about his increased reflexes and shrinking margin of error. Any other day, he’d revel in the praise, but this time it felt… wrong. Undeserved, somehow.
He couldn’t shake his annoyance, and his muscles twitched and pulsed under his skin. He could see her face falter, the smile and light in her eyes fade out.
It wasn’t her fault that he was in a shitty mood that made no sense.
“I would have thought you’d be more pleased with these results,” she said, finally, “but… I suppose… you must be holding yourself to a higher standard than I am.”
“Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing at his face, “I am. Really. I… I’m just… I didn’t sleep well. I guess it is making me grumpy.”
“Oh dear,” she deflated a little, head cocking to one side in thought. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
A couple of months ago, he would have jumped at that offer and suggested some kind of activity that they could do together. Swimming or something. Anything that would mean time alone with the Princess where they weren’t in the midst of a firefight or some kind of crisis. But he just… couldn’t muster that old excitement. “No,” he sighed, “I need to deal with this myself… and I know how busy you are. I’ll be okay… I just… need a nap or something.”
“Have you eaten?” The suggestion came with a little lift to her smile, “Hunk has told me that you are experiencing an increased appetite lately. Perhaps some food will help?”
“Yeah,” answered Lance, forcing some cheerfulness into his voice, “I ate before the briefing… but a snack isn’t a bad idea.” Although the very thought of a bowl of goo made his stomach churn and Hunk had already chided him about eating too much of the very limited ‘non-goo’ options available to them. “Thanks, Princess.”
That brightened her face a bit and she nodded, “you are very welcome, Lance… and you really did well today! Remind yourself of that when you are feeling better.”
“Yeah. Sure,” he flashed her a smile and headed to the showers attached to the training rooms. Targeting sims didn’t usually make him break a sweat, but lately he’d been finding that his usual morning and post-work-out shower schedule hadn’t quite been cutting it lately. Not to his standards, anyway.
Galran forces were surrounding a small planetoid Lance had never heard of. All communication with the planetoid itself had been cut off. There was no way to verify the information that they had in front of them. No way to know for sure what they would be facing if they acted on it.
It could be a trap, warned Coran, Allura and Shiro.
They could be hopelessly outnumbered, pointed out Hunk.
They could easily be too late, arriving to find nothing but a destroyed civilization and an armada of Galra battle cruisers and fighters, noted Pidge, also pointing out that evacuation of an entire alien population took time and organizational resources they simply did not have.
The risks were… formidable. The benefits were… uncertain.
But Lance couldn’t meet the wide, ruby-colored eyes of the small, wiry and trembling alien that stood before them begging for help and doubt his sincerity. Somehow, someway, this one alien had managed to break through the ranks of Galra ships and make a clean getaway. Then he’d managed to somehow, someway, find his way to the Castleship to plead his case. (Which, okay… might be an indication of a trap- he could concede that much.)
The poor guy had run out of food days ago, but still pushed himself to the breaking point to find them. That couldn’t have all been for nothing!
The thought of wasting time or letting this planetoid down stirred something in him. Something dark and potent. He always struggled with sitting still, unless he was seeing the world through the scope of his bayard. But his pacing now had little to do with his usual boundless energy.
This was different.
He felt like if he didn’t keep moving, he was going to throw a punch or something.
“What if we reached out to Kolivan?” Keith asked, “the Blade of Marmora might have more information. They might be in a better position to help.”
“We’re Voltron,” hissed Lance, “this is exactly the kind of thing we are supposed to be doing! There are people out there, scared and suffering… and we can help! So why is this even a debate?”
Allura gasped, “Lance! We all want to help! That’s not the issue here. We are working on very limited information…”
“So, send me and Pidge to do some recon,” he countered. “The Green Lion has cloaking, she can get in close- hack through the communications barricade. Me and Red will be back-up in case things go sideways.”
“You are suggesting that we send two Lions to a situation that might be too dangerous for the whole of Voltron and the Castleship?!?!” Shiro demanded, his expression incredulous.
“It does seem a rather reckless option,” added Coran.
“They probably won’t even know we are there! We can be in and out in no time- Allura can teleduv us behind a moon or something! Stealthy! Just to gather information. C’mon! You know we can do this. Pidge can hack anything. I’ll have her back”
“They are less likely to notice if just the two of us go,” mused Pidge.
“But if they do you’ll be sitting ducks!” Shiro shook his head, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“Let us at least confer with the Blade, as Keith suggested,” said Allura on a sigh.
“Fine! You guys debate and confer,” he snapped, grabbing up his helmet. “I’m going to go help! Anyone else who is up for doing our quiznaking jobs can join me. When you are done talking, you can send any new intel to my Lion, but I am not staying here and wasting more time!”
“Lance!” yelled Allura, getting between him and Shiro who had moved between him and the door and was holding his hands out as if to placate Lance.
“No!” he yelled, sending them both rocking back on their heels. “You pulled us into this war because you said we were needed. The Universe needed Voltron as a symbol of hope. Something to rally around. The Lions chose us to be their Paladins because we were meant to be heroes. Well I don’t know about Altea, but on Earth, heroes face impossible odds all the time, because it’s the right thing to do. These people asked for our help and this Paladin of Voltron is going to give it to them, even if I have to go alone!”
He pushed past them both and as the door slid shut behind him he heard Pidge mutter about how Keith wasn’t the only hot head.
Not that he cared.
He’d evacuate the place himself if need be.
Righteous fury churned in him, strong enough that he felt Red stir in the back of his mind. His Lion was never one to back away from a fight, no matter the odds. Lance could feel Red’s own emotional landscape shift as he prepared to face down the enemy, only a slight tinge of apprehension at breaking away from the others standing out against the agreement with Lance’s mindset.
He was just settling into the pilot’s seat when Pidge’s face popped up on a holoscreen, “hold your horses, there, Lancey Lance!”
“I’m going Pidge,” he snarled, already moving to flip switches and plot out a course.
“No. You aren’t,” she argued, “because you don’t need to. Keith got through to Kolivan. They are already dealing with it. Our messenger wasn’t the only one who got through. Another one found the rebellion. Days ago. The Blade confirmed their intel and they’ve already dealt with the situation.”
“Dealt with… how exactly?” he asked, hand hovering over the throttle.
“The Blade messed with the communication systems- pulled the cruisers away with fake orders to relocate. Rebellion already has relocation well underway. By the time we got there, there wouldn’t be anything left for us to do. Allura is coordinating with the Rebellion to make sure that any needed supplies get delivered to their new home.”
“They surrendered the planetoid!?!”
“They saved the population,” snapped Pidge. “That planetoid was too mineral rich for the Galra to ever stop targeting them. The invasion was inevitable. People with more complete information than ours decided that the best route was to save the people. Harm reduction, Lance. It’s a real thing.”
Red simmered down, satisfied that the mission was unneeded. Like fire, his Lion could be unpredictable. The raging need to fight banked, settling into a more neutral, almost gentle warmth- like glowing embers. This was not their fight, but Red was ready to roar back to a fighting blaze when it was time.
Lance only wished he could shift gears as easily.
He felt like he might burst with frustrated aggression and his irritation at his teammates wasn’t helping.
“Fine,” he muttered, powering down the pilot-controlled systems. “I’m going to go work out. My hand to hand combat needs work and I still haven’t done my daily laps. I’ll eat when I’m done.”
“You… aren’t going to join us for dinner?”
“Maybe?” conceded Lance, “depends on when I finish up.”
“You know I would have gone with you, right?” she asked, her voice quiet. “Your plan… it was dangerous, but solid. I wouldn’t have let you go alone.”
“Sure. If you say so,” he mumbled, still irritated.
“Lance… Look at your screen again. I’m in Green. ”
He blinked, finally seeing through the haze of his single-minded fixation to see that she was telling the truth. He could recognize Green’s cockpit on the video screen.
“I was right behind you, bud. I just kept a comm line open to the others. No way was I gonna let you screw up a hacking attempt and have to fight your way out of there on your own! Please! I live to hack, you know that!”
That made him smile, a wry chuckle even managing to work its way through him. “I can hack,” he argued weakly, “I used to read my sisters’ diaries all the time.”
“Reading diaries? Sad, McClain… that’s very sad.”