Actions

Work Header

Oh Captain, Let's Make A Deal

Summary:

"If I help you, you won't hurt them?"

Pidge bargains for the lives of the other paladins.

Edit: minor changes in wording

Notes:

CW: depiction of a beloved character being purposefully injured by villains, blood, threats of violence, kidnapping/capturing, Lotor, Lotor is his own content warning, mentions of hunger/intentionally starving someone

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

         

In any given spaceship, the sound was there. The vibration. The omnipresent hum of the inner workings. It was actually a thousand different sounds of a thousand different mechanisms culminating into one indeterminate buzz and only a mechanically-inclined mind would take the time to pick them into their component parts. Fuel traveling to the engines. Coolant systems activating. Quintessence thrumming through the ship and keeping it alive. Pidge’s breathing mirrored the steady rush of the flowing energy. She focused with all her might on taking the ship apart in her mind, letting her imagination flow over every bulkhead and piece of machinery. Tracking the hallways with her mind’s eye. Dismantling the hydraulics systems as if she could rip them apart with her bare hands because that would keep her from thinking about the other paladins—

            Dammit! She opened her eyes and let her head fall back against the cell wall. The inside of Lotor’s cruiser was no less ugly than Zarkon’s fleet. Her cell was too big and too small at the same time. There was plenty of space to move around, tempting her and taunting her to pace like a caged animal. It was completely barren, not even a bowl of water or a pot to piss in. The scaultrite-infused glass between her and the corridor made her feel even more like an organism on a microscope slide. She wondered if there was a hidden camera somewhere so Lotor could observe her until she finally cracked.

            How long had she been here? A day at least. The patrols passed about once every hour and she’d seen well over twenty of them. Another was due any minute. Her stomach was screaming at her and threatening to eat itself, but she had nothing else to give it. Her throat was dry. She was certain she hadn’t slept.

            Exhausted though she was from the events of the last forty-eight hours, she doubted she would sleep until she knew what had happened. They’d lost. Lotor had won. The Voltron Lions were scattered to the winds, thanks to Pidge’s last-ditch attempt to keep them out of Lotor’s hands. The last time she’d heard from her friends, it had been unclear what any of their statuses were as the oxygen was rapidly drained from the Castle of Lions and Lotor’s forces took over the ship. Lung damage for all of them at the very least, but Pidge was alive. Was it naïve of her to hope that the others were as well?

            The predictable click of boots on metal came right on schedule. Pidge didn’t even turn their head toward it. The sentries never paid them any attention, and at this point they seemed intent on starving her. She wasn’t going to be perceived as begging.

            But instead of carrying on, the footsteps stopped right outside their cell. Without moving her head, Pidge watched them out of the corner of her eye. Four sentries had stopped, all cradling blasters. One was punching something into the panel beside her cell. That could only mean one thing. Pidge tensed.

            She was charging as soon as the glass slid away. They’d taken her bayard and her helmet, but the laser blasts bounced off the rest of her paladin armor. She got a good punch to the face of the one that had put in the code. She spun and her heel hit another one in the hip, right where the chink in his armor was. He wobbled and knocked into the sentry next to him. Just as she rounded on the last one, the first recovered. The jolt from his stun rod would have winded her on a good day. In her fatigued state, it was like taking a bomb to the back. She swore the rush of electricity snapped her spine, and her vision fizzled out.

            Pidge came to with the feeling of their knees being scraped over the ground. She was suspended by two of the sentries holding her arms and dragging her along. She could hear the others behind her. No doubt their guns were trained on her back.

            The galra tightened their hold when she started kicking, trying to get her legs underneath her.

            “I can walk!” she spat.

            A voice behind her said something in Galra. The two dragging her halted. The cold barrel of a blaster was pressed against the back of her neck. She was allowed to get to her feet, but it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere. This time, she didn’t even bother trying to fight. She was outnumbered and outgunned. The smart thing to do was wait and see where they were taking her.

            As soon as she was upright, they yanked her forward again. She stumbled and managed not to eat shit, but it was a near thing. Finally, having a chance to look around, her heart sank. They were well past the brig, so she had no way of knowing if the other paladins were here with her.

            They arrived at a pair of double doors guarded by another set of sentries. One of Pidge’s escorts said something to them. Her Galra wasn’t up to par, but she caught the words “Lotor,” “green,” and “paladin.” If this was what she thought was happening…

            The doors were opened and she was thrust forward before she had time to form a plan. Unfurled before them was a quasi-throne room. Galra crew stood around at various stations examining schematics and barely giving the newcomers a glance. This room was more for the engineering side of things than steering the ship. But toward the back of it was a raised dais with a fancy chair. And there sat Pidge’s newly sworn #1 enemy.

            Seeing Lotor again lit a fire in her lungs. Her head suddenly felt clearer than it had in the past twenty-four hours. She was tracking the path of a laser blast right between his eyes.

            Lotor made a show of not noticing them, even though they knew he’d seen them enter the room. He finished listening intently to whatever his lieutenant was telling him and dismissed her with a wave. When he turned with mock surprise, he was already smiling sardonically.

            “The fabled Green Paladin. What an honor for you to join us.”

            “Where are the others?” they snapped.

            “Other paladins? I’m afraid there aren’t any.”

            Her heart dropped to her toes. Did he really mean…?

            He was watching her reaction too carefully. His smile was too sharp. He wanted to see the effect it would have on her. He wanted to see her break and she refused.

            “You’re lying.”

            He rose and leisurely made his way down the steps. “My dear Holt…”

            Her name dripped out of his mouth like toxic honey. They hated how it made their flesh crawl. It was probably some kind of power trip for him, saying her name and watching her squirm. Blessedly, no one had ever called them Katie in his presence and he probably had no idea that was their real name. They had every intention of keeping it that way.

            He was right in front of her now. She fought down bile when his fingers touched her chin, but she held his gaze. He would not break her.

            “I haven’t lied. They can hardly be called paladins anymore.”

            He sharply withdrew his hand, his claw scratching her as he went. He barked a command at a nearby engineer. The sentries still holding her manhandled her like a doll until she was facing the nearest work station.

            Several screens popped up showing a set of similar scenes. Pidge couldn’t stop the sob that burst out of them. They were all there, all of the paladins plus Coran. They were all, apparently, alive and in galra custody. None of them appeared to be together. Instead of being held in cells like she had been, they looked to be in separate transports. X-12 Triads, if she had to guess. The newest model of small galra cargo carriers, able to carry up to twenty passengers if they were packed like sardines. Able to travel two lightyears on pure quintessence without refueling, but with galra outposts all over the known universe, that didn’t give Pidge a good idea of where they were going, only that they could all be going different places.

            “It is so amusing to watch your brain work,” Lotor said. “I’m sure you must be thinking, ‘what if this is a trick?’ Let me prove to you that it is not.”

            He picked up a communicator from the work station and hummed thoughtfully as he considered the screens.

            “Which one, which one… ah, that one seems a little too eager to cause trouble.”

            Lance. He was awake and staring at the wall across from him, subtly straining against his handcuffs. Beside him was an armed guard. They dug a communicator out of their pocket when Lotor spoke through his.

            “Garxus, report on the paladin?”

            A gruff voice came through the communicator, synching with the guard’s mouth movements.

            “He’s been a handful, my lord, but we’ve got a handle on him.”

            Lance’s voice rang faintly through the communicator as he gave Garxus a strongly worded retort.

            Lotor’s lip curled. “I see. Why don’t you put a few holes in that handsome face of his? That might quell his spirit.”

            “No!” Pidge said.

            Garxus grinned and pulled out a wickedly sharp knife. His meaty hand clamped down on Lance’s neck. Lance struggled and yelled obscenities, but to no avail. The knife carved a path from his temple to his jaw, leaving a gushing red river behind.

            Pidge didn’t even realize they were already yelling until actual words took shape.

            “Stop! Stop! Don’t hurt him!” She was struggling against her captors who were holding her arms so tightly her bones might snap before they let go.

            “That’s enough.” Lotor turned off the communicator and signaled to the engineer to take down the screens without actually checking to see if Garxus stopped. Pidge’s last view of Lance was his eyes rolling back in his head as his body fell limp.

            “What do you want?” she screamed at Lotor. “You defeated Voltron! What more could you possibly want?”

            She saw it—the infinitesimal flicker of irritation when she mentioned Voltron. The Lions might still be out of his reach. That was something to file away for later.

            “So much more, Pidge,” he said. “And you’re going to help me get it.”

            “Go fuck yourself.” He knew that he had them though. He hadn’t shown her the other paladins just to torture her. She was backed into a corner and he knew it.

            “What do you know of Oriande?”

            Nothing. They wished they could tell him it was nothing, but a passing reference in a story Allura told once had led them to investigate the legend.

            “The Altean alchemists had a secret world where they studied the fundamentals of how the universe was created.” Truthfully, that was all she knew. Details in the Altean myths were lacking.

            Lotor looked delighted. She wanted to dig his eyeballs out with her fingernails.

            “You’ve already exceeded expectations, but really that was my fault in underestimating you.”

            “It’s a fairytale.”

            “It’s real.” He stepped way too close to them. “And you’re going to help me find it.”

            A long time ago, Pidge had been bullied by people she’d thought she hated. Then she’d been yeeted into space and learned about a tyrant who had been colonizing planets for ten thousand years. She’d thought she hated Zarkon, but it was nothing, nothing compared to the soul-eviscerating loathing she held for the man in front of her. They’d all let him in. They’d all trusted him. And why?

            Let my actions speak for themselves.

            His actions were screaming now. Every question he’d ever asked Allura, every joke he’d ever laughed at with Lance, every cooking tip he’d ever shared with Hunk, every time he’d ever fucking looked at Pidge. He’d been chipping away at their walls, lying in wait.

            And Pidge was at the bottom of the sand pit with no Lion to call on, no friends, and no hope of clawing her way out.

            “If I help you, you won’t hurt them?”

            “You can check on them any time you want.”

            She lowered her gaze to the ground. “What do you want me to do?”

            “Get the Green Paladin some food and proper clothes,” Lotor directed their escorts. “Then show her to her workspace. There is much to be done.”

            Pidge’s mind was racing as they let themself be led away. How was she supposed to find Oriande? Could she? She wanted to believe it was just a myth, but that wouldn’t stop Lotor. She had to stall, that much was obvious. Could she find a way to keep the knowledge from him and give the paladins time to escape?

            Their heart jumped as through the garbled Galra of the control room they picked out the word “red.” Their thoughts turned to Keith who hadn’t been with the others and wasn’t shown on any of the screens. Keith who had left the team. Keith who could be anywhere in the universe. Keith… whom Lotor might not even know about.

            Keith who might now be their one and only hope.

            Come back, she prayed silently as the doors slammed behind her and the sentries marched her down the hallway again. We need you. Come back and kick his ass.

            She would just have to hold out until then.

Notes:

Hey guys... I think Lotor is the imposter

i present the fic where i've made possibly the weirdest reference to hamilton possible

My memory of the voltron timeline is a bit hazy, so we're just gonna drop this in here sometime after Lotor teams up with the paladins and pretend it all makes sense. Don't know if I'll ever add to this, but it's been swimming around in my brain for a while now

if you can guess the song the title references i will bake cookies and telepathically send them to you

 

Tat's all for now. As always, thanks for reading! Byeeeeee!

Series this work belongs to: