Chapter Text
Pylir of Olkarion was not a being prone to flights of fancy. But staring up at the stellar nursery in the sky above him always gave him a sense of wonder. All over the sky, only a few light-minutes in any direction, new stars were being born, right before his very eyes.
Oh he knew the scientific explanations for the new lights that appeared in the sky almost daily. He knew that gases were converging due to gravitational pull and that the confoundingly enormous pressures were triggering fusion; hydrogen to helium to carbon to nitrogen and onward. He understood how electrons were changing their energy levels around their atoms, causing the release of photons.
But this light. This new light; the newest in the universe. It was a privilege to witness.
Chuckling to himself, Pylir shook his head. Perhaps he had grown a bit more poetic of late. He certainly wasn’t alone among his people in that regard. The loss of Olkarion had been devastating for the few Olkari who had been off-world at the time. And while it had been restored in some vast, almost incomprehensible circumstance of realities converging, destructing, and being reborn, the people who had been on Olkarion at the time were still lost.
He knew that the people of the scientific colony he led would have a responsibility to return to Olkarion (New Olkarion?) soon. Communications among the various Olkari who remained were all in agreement that reuniting what was left of their people was paramount to their culture and survival. But they had some time and until then his colony would continue to study the very beginnings of light itself.
A rolling rumble under his feet broke Pylir out of his reveries. Another quake was rippling over the planet that they had come to call Kaltos. It was a reference to some old piece of fiction that someone had recalled about a young black blooznat in a nest of white ones. But he figured it was better than calling it the impersonally clinical name of “planetoid 639.”
The quakes were becoming more frequent of late and far more worrisome. When the colony had first been established, shortly before the Galra had conquered and enslaved Olkarion, Kaltos had perhaps one small one a deca-phoeb, if that. Now, they came almost every quintant, sometimes more than once. And they were getting stronger. Huge cracks were beginning to form on the stone surface, with no pattern that they could detect. Kaltos did not seem to have tectonic plates that were shifting, nor was it suffering from outside impacts. It was as if the planet was simply… breaking.
The communication device on his wrist chirped with a sound like a bird and he keyed it on.
“This is Pylir,” he said into it, “is it the quake I just felt?”
“Yes,” came the reply from his second in command, “the chasm on the east side of the city has widened significantly. At this rate, a few more like that and the city will be swallowed into it.”
Pylir gave a sigh. “Begin evacuating the city to the west side,” he ordered, “I don’t think we can avoid it any longer. We need to find a way to leave Kaltos.”
“But we still do not have the energy needed to leave Kaltos' gravity,” his second answered, fearfully, “and the gravity fields of the stellar nursery are growing all the time as new stars are formed.”
“Then we have no choice,” Pylir said, “contact the Voltron Coalition. Tell them we need aid.”
“But they cannot send a ship through the stellar nursery. The shifting gravitational wells would mean almost certain death for anyone making the attempt.”
“I know,” Pylir agreed, “but it is clear we cannot leave Kaltos without help. Send the transmission. If anyone can help us, it will be Voltron.”
It had been seven months since Voltron and Galaxy Garrison had defeated Sendak and sent the Galra packing from Earth. It had been a little over two months since Voltron and the Atlas had returned from their inter-dimensional battle against Honerva in deep space. The universe was rejoicing at the seeming dawn of a new peace as the last few pockets of violent Galra resistance were put down or negotiated to truce. Altea had returned. Daibazaal had returned. Olkarion had returned. 10,000 years of war seemed to be finally coming to an end. The miracles of this new age seemed never-ending and without limit.
And it had been three weeks since Lance McClain had become simply fed up with it all. Everything was so miraculous and amazingly happy. Everyone was celebrating every new day. But he had grown tired of pretending to do the same.
Sure, he attended all the ceremonies, all the parties, all the speeches, like the Paladin of Voltron he was. He had put on a good face. He was quite good at that, after all. But watching all the celebrations around him… it just wasn’t fair.
Because Voltron had returned from the realm between dimensions one Paladin fewer. Voltron had lost its princess, its guiding light. And Lance felt emptier than he had ever felt before. And as the rest of the world began to move on, Lance felt trapped in that last moment that he had seen Allura’s face before all had faded to white and he had awoken in the cockpit of the Red Lion to see the Blue Lion floating dormant in space, pilotless.
From his bunk, Lance stared up at the ceiling in his quarters at Galaxy Garrison. He had awoken hours ago, out of yet another unsettled dream and knew from experience that trying to go back to sleep was futile. And so he was already put together for the day, dressed in his blue-trimmed Garrison uniform, by the time his alarm sounded.
Before it got even two tones out, he slapped it off, perhaps harder than was necessary. As he swung his legs over the edge of his bunk and sat up, he briefly wondered what would happen if he just didn’t show up to the daily meeting that Shiro ran every morning. If he just got into Red and disappeared off somewhere, without telling anyone, would it even matter at this point? Would anyone notice? It wasn’t like he was needed to form Voltron any more, since Blue hadn’t so much as shown a glimmer since they’d lost Allura. At this point, while the lions were still the most powerful machines in the Coalition, the four of them that were working were more or less interchangable for their tasks. Green could handle just about anything that Red could. So could Black or Yellow.
He knew the fact that Voltron himself was essentially not needed any more should be a good thing. Nothing powerful enough to need Voltron meant that the violence was at an end, that people were safe. But if that was the case, then what the point was there in even having Paladins?
But while Lance wanted to be left alone to mourn for then next… oh… decade or so, he was also scared stiff at the thought of having nothing to do and no responsibilities. Because when he had nothing to do, all he could think about was her and all he could do was cry.
As he did most mornings, Lance felt tears begin to spill down his face. Before they could completely overwhelm him, he shook himself out of it and forced himself to stand. As the lights came on slowly, reacting to movement, he made his way over to the tiny en suite in the corner of his quarters to splash some water on his face and clear his eyes. Reflexively, he looked up into the mirror to check to see that he was properly prepared for the day, only remembering then that even that was difficult because then he saw the two crescent-shaped blue marks at the outside corners of his eyes.
She had given them to him, as if he needed them to remember her. And for an instant, he could have sworn he saw them glimmer a silver-blue around the edges. When he looked again, it was gone.
Lance rubbed his eyes, figuring it was just his imagination, then turned away from the mirror to make his way to the door to the hallway, carefully composing his face, as ready as he would be to endure yet another day without her.
Veronica always tried to do whatever she could to get paired up with her brother on daily assignments. As much as his over-protectiveness irritated her, she couldn’t help but want to keep an eye on him, of late. She was okay with letting him think he was the one keeping her safe, as long as she was able to be the big sister and look out for the inevitable moments when he just couldn’t handle his grief. That was the sort of thing big sisters did, after all.
Everyone always remarked to her about how much Lance had changed since coming back from space; less of a flake, more mature and responsible, a better leader. But that wasn’t what she saw. All she saw was her little brother who had been through a lot of horrifying and dangerous things and had a broken heart and the weight of the world on his shoulders to show for it.
And so it was that Veronica found herself in the cockpit of the Red Lion, standing behind the pilot’s seat with her brother at the controls as they flew over the desert of the American South-West toward the gaping chasm in the ground that had once been the launch site for one of Sendak’s zaiforge cannons. The command at the Garrison had decided that it was high time to clear the broken pits out and make them safe.
“Red Lion to Atlas,” Lance said, flipping open a comm channel, “we’ve arrived at the launch silo and we’re beginning our descent now.”
“Understood, Red Lion,” Shiro’s voice returned, “watch yourselves in there. It’s likely to be unstable and there’s no telling what the Galra left behind when they left.”
“You got it,” Lance replied, more cheerfully than was necessary before switching off the comm again. Red Lion descended into the massive well in the ground. “Well, just us, for a while, now. The communications satellite should be overhead in a couple hours for check in. But until then, we’re radio dark.”
“Ugh, this place is so creepy,” Veronica opined with a shiver, “I hate having to go in here without comms. What kind of energy would be interfering with the signal so badly anyway?”
“Well, guess that’s part of what they’re sending us in here to find out,” Lance commented, “if it’s some sort of awful, corrupted Galra crystal energy, we’ll need to get rid of it. No telling what sort of trouble it could cause.”
“You dealt with that sort of thing before, right?” Veronica asked. “What should we be looking for?”
“A big, glowing, purple rock.”
“Lance, everything about Galra tech glows purple.”
“Hence the problem,” Lance carped, “look, Pidge or Hunk or Coran could be more specific, but a lot of this stuff kinda goes over my head, okay?”
“No need to get snippy,” Veronica placated, “you still have more experience with the stuff than I do. I mean, you at least know to look for a rock.”
“Well, either way, if we do find a Galra crystal down here, we probably shouldn’t touch it until someone with a bit more brain power can take a look at it.”
Veronica saw an opening with that comment. Feeling the need to lighten the mood a little, she decided to prod it. “Hey, what am I, chopped liver?”
Lance looked over at her alarmed for a moment. “No, that’s not what I…” Seeing her playful grin, he broke off the sentence.
“Gotcha,” she said, flicking him in the forehead with a finger.
“All right, ha ha,” Lance grumbled, a smile coming to his face even so, “you got me.”
“Admit it,” Veronica said, “you missed my teasing while you were out in space.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe a little,” Lance admitted.
At last Red Lion reached the bottom of the massive shaft and settled on the ground with a puff of dust rising around her. In short order, she had lowered her head to the ground and opened her jaw ramp, allowing the two of them to exit.
A dim shaft of sunlight shone down from high above them, illuminating an oval patch of ground. The bottom of the well was covered in dry dirt and rocks. All around, the metal walls of the shaft were dented and scorched, falling into piles around the outside of the circular bottom in twisted and jagged heaps of scrap. In four directions, dark tunnels yawned open, leading deep into the ground, some more blocked off by debris than others. Veronica pulled out a flashlight and shined it down the clearest one. The light disappeared into nothingness.
“Hey, look at this!” Lance said in surprise. Turning back to him, Veronica saw the most genuinely happy smile she had seen on her brother’s face in weeks light up his features. He was crouching down near one of Red’s front paws, looking at a tiny plant that had pushed its way out of the dirt. A few scraggly leaves surrounded a single, tiny bright orange flower.
“Is that a yerba flower?” Veronica asked.
“All the way down here!” Lance exclaimed. “Must be getting just enough sunlight. Kinda looks like it’s struggling, though.” He reached for the small canteen that was kept on his belt and twisted the cap off, sprinkling a little bit of water on the sickly-looking leaves and around the base of the stem in the dry ground. “Here you go, little guy.”
“Aww, you’re such a softie,” said Veronica.
With a chuckle, Lance stood up, twisting the cap back onto his canteen and replacing back on his belt. He pulled out his bayard instead and activated its blaster form, shining its search light around the shadowed perimeter of the shaft. “Wow, the MFE’s were pretty thorough,” he said, “not that I’m ungrateful, since this thing was shooting at us, but what a mess.”
“Well, four tunnels,” Veronica pointed out, “you want north, south, east, or west?”
“South,” Lance replied, “it’s clearest.” Blaster pointing before him, he made his way over to the short pile of scrap that was before the tunnel opening and scrambled up and over. Veronica was hot on his heels, switching out her flashlight for her own weapon, swinging it down off her shoulder by its strap.
They continued down the tunnel in silence for several minutes, their attention firmly on their surroundings. The only sounds were their echoing footsteps or the shifting of scrap and debris as they passed. Finally, their progress was halted by what at first appeared to be a once-flat-but-now-warped wall. As they approached, it became clear that it had once been some sort of a blast door. Lance shone his light around the frame of the threshold, looking for any indications that the tunnel supports around it were compromised.
“Looks sturdy enough,” he commented, “I could probably blast through it.”
“Or, just an idea, we could check for a switch or something first,” Veronica admonished.
“Awww, that’s no fun,” Lance mock whined, but started to check around for the standard Galra control panel that usually opened such doors. They found it quickly enough and managed to pry the cover panel off.
“Maybe I can rig up a battery to it as an external power source so we can open it,” Veronica said, begining to root around in her pack for the needed tools for such an endeavor.
“We might not need to,” said Lance, “look at this.”
Veronica looked into the circuitry of the panel where Lance was indicating. There was a single, tiny light erratically flashing with a sickly purple glow.
“There’s definitely some kind of Galra power source still active in this place,” Lance surmised.
“Well, let’s just hope it’s just the Galra equivalent of a double-A battery,” said Veronica, beginning to prob into the circuits with her tools. There was a spark a moment later and the blast door came partially open with a lurch. Purple light spilled out through the narrow opening.
“I don’t think we’re that lucky,” said Lance, “grab a side. Let’s get this open enough to get through.”
With a set of difficult heaves, the two of them managed to pull the door open enough for them to get through one at a time, metal on metal squealing in protest. Lance went through first, blaster pointing in several directions as he checked for traps or obstacles. Veronica followed immediately after.
“Definitely not that lucky,” she said as she made it through.
The entire room, some sort of control center littered with consoles and cracked monitors, was awash in that signature Galra purple light that was the effect of their typical energy source. The light itself emanated from a large, purple crystal set into a set of contacts in the floor and ceiling of the room with cables and wires coming off of them.
“Given what we saw of the energy output of these silos when they were being used as cannons,” Veronica mused, “I’d bet real money the other three tunnels end in a similar room and a similar crystal.”
“I definitely wouldn’t take that bet,” Lance agreed, “but we should probably check the others to be sure.”
“Think we can shut it down?” Veronica asked.
“Well, if we can cut the cables on the contacts we might be able to cut off the power going to the rest of the base,” said Lance, “but I wouldn’t want to mess with the crystal itself.” He gave a sigh and massaged the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. “Just looking at this thing is giving me a headache.”
“Well, no time like the present,” Veronica said, pulling a plasma cutter out of her tool kit. “Help me move that cabinet thing over there. I’ll get on top of it and cut the cables at the top.” She made her way toward the metal cabinet in question, but paused when Lance made no move to follow.
Instead, he was seemingly spaced out, looking at the crystal, apparently having let the rest of the room about him drop away. His weapon hand had even gone a little lax.
“Lance?” she asked. “Hey, Earth to Lance!” When he still did not respond, she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Oh, Lancelot!”
“Wha-? Oh! Sorry,” he stuttered out, shaking his head as if to clear it, “just… remembering the first time we dealt with one of these. And don’t call me that.”
“Thought that might get your attention,” she said with a laugh, heading back over to the cabinet, “c’mon, help me with this.”
With one more quick glance about the room to make sure it was safe, Lance deactivated his bayard and joined her at the cabinet. Together, they slid it across the floor with a tremendous scrape, leaving scratches in the floor behind it. When it was close enough, Veronica climbed on top of it and activated her cutter, a cold-white beam of plasma extending from the emitter.
“Maybe I should-” Lance started.
“Stop!” Veronica warned him off. “What have I said about trying to protect me from my own job?”
“Right, right, sorry,” Lance acquiesced, “just be careful with that thing, okay?”
Reaching over her head, Veronica began to cut into the cables leading to the ceiling terminal of the crystal. They were made of pretty sturdy stuff and it took a good minute and a half to cut through each cable.
Lance’s fretting aside, it was going pretty well until she got about half way through the bundle. The terminal gave a bit of a juttering shift, startling both of them. She paused for a moment, waiting to see if it would go any further.
“Careful!” Lance warned. “Maybe we should stop.”
“I’ve almost got it,” Veronica replied, “just give me another minute or two and make sure the cabinet stays steady.”
She was about a quarter of the way to the end when the whole structure shifted again. Lance actually gave a little yelp this time.
“Veronica, I really think we should-”
“Just a bit more!” As she finished cutting through the second-to-last cable, the whole thing shifted again, sort of twisting on the cable that was left and knocking into Veronica’s perch, sending her stumbling. The crystal continued on its course, ripping the last remaining cable out of the ceiling, sending the whole thing toppling toward her and knocking her off the cabinet.
“Look out!” Lance was suddenly shouting, placing himself between her and the falling crystal as if to catch it and push it aside. As soon has his hands met the crystal’s surface, a blinking crackle of blue and purple lightning raced across it and converged where he was touching it. Her brother was silhouetted against a halo of light and gave a cry of agony, seemingly frozen in place by the energy racing through him.
“Lance!” she cried, pushing herself off the ground and moving to tackle him out of the way of the crystal. On some level, she expected to feel the shock as well as soon as she ran into him, but to her surprise there was nothing. She was able to knock him out of the way, breaking his contact with the crystal. As momentum carried them both out of the way, the crystal fell to the ground behind them with a heavy, glass-sounding thud. A few loose pieces of scrap metal rattled lose from the ceiling and came down with it.
As soon as she was sure everything had stopped, Veronica disentangled her own limbs from her brother’s. For his part, Lance made no move to assist, a dead weight next to her. She cast a quick glance toward the crystal and saw two ghosted images of hands where Lance had caught the crystal, fading from a teal blue back to the crystal’s normal purple. A tiny part of her mind noted that as odd before concern for her brother took over again.
“No no no!” she chanted, turning him on to his back. “Lance!”
His face was completely slack in unconsciousness. Frantically, she reached for the pulse point on his neck and was rewarded with a slight groan from him. His pulse was steady beneath her finger tips. She looked back to his face again, to check to see if he was waking up, but his eyes remained closed.
And, weirdest of all, the two crescent-shaped Altean marks beneath his eyes were glowing a very soft silver-blue, but fading quickly.
“What?” she puzzled, running a finger over one of the marks as it finished fading.
From the other end of the tunnel, there was a loud roar that could only have been the Red Lion reacting to the distress of her Paladin. It was enough to shake Veronica out of her puzzlement and she tried again to rouse Lance to no avail.
Deciding that she needed to get the both of them out of there before something else happened with the crystal or Red decided to rip the tunnel apart to get to them, Veronica steeled herself and then pulled Lance up under his shoulders and then hefted him into a fireman’s carry. Slowly, staggering under his weight, she made her way back down the tunnel toward Red Lion.
That sickly Galra purple was all around him. Quiznack, how he hated that color! There was no landscape in any direction and he wasn’t actually sure what he was walking on. But it seemed important just to keep moving, though he could have sworn he was drifting more than anything.
Momentarily, he turned back to look where he had come from. Teal-blue footprints stretched out behind him, fading back to that awful purple as they went back.
There was a whisper somewhere ahead of his path, like something calling his name, he turned his attention back in its direction, but still saw nothing but flat, empty space ahead of him.
His name floated up from the silence again, spurring him onward. He broke into a jog to nowhere. He wanted to find that voice. It was familiar and comforting somehow. As he continued onward it called his name several more times. He sped up his pace each time, more and more desperate to reach it, but feeling like he was going nowhere.
It seemed like he would be forever running, the voice growing louder and louder and yet more familiar, until everything began to grow dark and finally faded to black.
As feeling began to return to him, Lance felt something cold and hard against his back. Everything started to ache, like every muscle in his body had been overtaxed to the point of exhaustion. And somewhere above him, someone was calling his name.
Lance forced his eyes open slowly and the black was replaced by a blur of soft, red light. A face resolved into view as he forced himself to focus and he recognized the face of his older sister.
“There you are!” she exclaimed, looking relieved. “Take it slow, baby brother.”
“What happened?” Lance groaned out.
“You got tazed by a Galra crystal,” Veronica answered, “scared the hell out of me.”
“Are we back in Red?”
“Yeah. I carried you back here and she opened right up for me. I think she was worried about you.”
“Sounds about right,” Lance said, moving to get an arm under him and lever himself up into a sitting position. Veronica got under his shoulder and helped him. His head spun a little and he made no further motion to get to his feet as he massaged his forehead. “How long was I out?”
“About an hour,” his sister answered, “I’ve been trying to raise the Garrison or the Atlas the whole time, but I guess the satellite isn’t in range yet. Honestly, if I could fly this thing, I’d have just gotten us out of here. I tried, but I guess she’s a one-pilot kinda girl. I think she actually growled at me.”
“Yeah, she’s all kinds of stubborn,” Lance agreed, “but I’m with you. I’ve had enough of this place without the eggheads around. Let’s head back.” He made to push himself to his feet, but the floor kind of tilted under him and he teetered back to his butt.
“Hey, take it easy!” Veronica admonished, placing her hands on his shoulders to help keep him upright. “You were just unconscious! Just take a second. We’ve waited this long, we can wait until you can see straight. Here, follow my finger.” She held up her index finger in his field of vision and began to move it about. Dutifully, he tracked the movement as she watched his response.
“What happened to the crystal?” he asked.
“I left it where it fell,” she said, “no way I was touching it again. Besides, you were my first priority.” Seemingly satisfied with Lance’s reactions, she dropped her hand and then met his eyes with naked concern. “Hey… those marks Allura gave you?”
“Hmm? What about them?”
“This might sound crazy but… have you ever noticed them… glow?”
“Glow?” Lance asked, absently running a finger over one of them.
“Just after you got zapped by the crystal, I could have sworn I saw them kind of… light up.”
Lance slid his gaze away from hers and lost himself to contemplation for a long moment, possibilities flashing through his mind faster than he could make sense of them.
“Lance?” Veronica pressed.
“I dunno, maybe,” he finally answered, “every once in a while, when I catch my reflection in something, I think for just a second that they might be glowing. But then I look again and there’s nothing.”
“Maybe we should ask Coran or Romelle about it,” Veronica suggested, “just to make sure you’re okay.”
“Allura wouldn’t have given me something that would hurt me,” Lance argued, growing a little obstinate, “besides, telling Coran or Romelle about something that may or may not actually be just a figment of my imagination would just mean everyone would get all freaked out and start poking and proding at me. And it’s not theirs to poke at.”
“Look I know Allura wouldn’t have hurt you, intentionally,” Veronica gently prodded, “but it couldn’t hurt to just take a look to be sure.”
“Veronica, I said no!” Lance exclaimed, finally rallying enough to push himself off the floor. He made his way over to the pilot’s seat and flopped down into it, not wanting to keep her gaze any longer.
“Okay, okay!” Veronica allowed. “You want to keep it to yourself. I get it.” He felt her rest a hand on his shoulder a moment later. “Just… if anything else weird starts happening… please promise me you’ll have Coran take a look?”
Lance gave frustrated sigh, checking himself at Veronica’s earnest tone. She was just concerned for him. He could hardly be mad at her for that. “All right,” he agreed, reluctantly, “as long as you don’t tell anyone in the meantime. Just… trust me to handle it, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind, “just be careful. I’ve been worried about you, Lance. You put on a brave face, but I can tell you’re hurting.”
“I know you’ve been looking out for me these past months,” said Lance, “and I appreciate it, really. It makes it a little less lonely.”
“What’s a big sister for?”
With a sniff and swiping a hand across his eyes to clear the tiny buildup of moisture there, Lance grabbed for Red’s controls. “Let’s get out of here and report in.”
Red came to life, thrusters flaring and jumping skyward with a growl. She kicked up a wind about her as she took off, rustling the small patch of several fresh, vibrant, orange flowers that had been near her paw.