Chapter Text
*(Keith)*
Coran’s frantic voice crackled over the comm. “I have Allura and Kolivan, we need to go!”
Keith was still hazy and disoriented from that last hit from Zarkon. He automatically pointed Red towards the Castle. But Shiro hadn’t--
Black Lion was drifting again. Shiro was silent again. He’d taken a direct hit, he could be--
“We need to tow him back to the Castle!” Pidge was beside him in Green, helping him pull Black along. The black lion was twice the size of theirs, and they barely got her into the hangar before the Castle jumped into the wormhole.
He wanted to check on Shiro immediately -- he still hadn’t said anything -- but Red was so worn out and beat up and he couldn’t leave her. He got her settled into her bay as quickly as possible and then leapt from his seat and took off at a dead run back towards Black. His boots skidded on the deckplates and she still wasn’t moving . With the others right on his heels, Keith scrambled up Black’s access ramp, calling Shiro’s name.
But when they reached the cockpit, it was empty. No blood, no scorch marks, no Shiro. There was no sign of him at all.
He was just … gone.
----------
Two weeks later....
“Hey, Shiro.”
Keith’s voice echoed back at him hollowly. The lights in Black’s cockpit stayed dark and silent, the same as it had been since the battle. He ran his hands over the strange Altean fabric of the pilot’s chair -- almost like plastic, but soft and smooth, and always body-temperature. The feeling beneath his fingertips calmed him, and he traced circles on the arms of the chair to soothe himself.
“Coran finally ran out of tests to run,” Keith said. “Pidge didn’t want to stop. Hunk had to pick her up and carry her out of the hanger to get her to eat and sleep for a few hours.” He stared a moment at the exposed Bayard port console next to the chair. The bayard itself wasn't there anymore -- Allura had it, locked away for safekeeping. Its absence made the Lion feel even more painfully empty. “I didn’t want to stop trying, either,” he admitted quietly. “But there’s nothing else we can do at this point…Coran thinks Black has some kind of internal damage, and that's why she hasn't moved. She’s...sleeping, I guess. Dormant. But until she wakes up, we can't get at any of her internal data to try and figure out what happened to you.”
Anger rose in him suddenly; he clenched his fists, grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed. “Where did you go, Shiro? Allura says you must have been captured somehow during the battle, and that doesn't make any sense but it’s the only theory we have that gives us any hope that you’re still--” He choked his own words off as his voice broke.
He didn’t want to think about the other theories they’d had to talk about. He didn’t want to remember the tears streaming down Hunk’s face while he theorized about the amount of energy that was in that final blow against Zarkon’s magic armor, and about what would happen when that energy flowed back.
Keith took a deep breath, tried to will his emotions back down. It wasn’t working. “And Black won’t wake up! We’ve tried everything. Allura even tried transferring some of her own energy to the Lion, and nothing’s working!”
He slammed a clenched fist against the arm of the chair in frustration, then allowed himself to curl up, press his forehead to his knees and just breathe until he got himself back under control. “Keep it together, Keith,” he mumbled to himself, “you have to keep it together.”
It was several deep breaths before he could raise his head again, chest and throat tight with grief, but jaw set in determination.
Keith took out his knife -- his blade -- and held it, staring at his reflection and feeling the smoothness of the metal. It had always been a source of comfort to him, and still was, even after … everything. After finding the Blades of Marmora and discovering his heritage, after Allura’s reaction to that reveal, after Shiro--
Keith swallowed down the lump in his throat and held his Blade up like an oath. “We’re not giving up,” he vowed. “I’ll find you again, Shiro, even if it’s the very last thing I ever do.”
*(Allura)*
Her old etiquette tutor Atarah would have scolded her, Allura thought, if she had seen how Allura kept her hands clasped together to hide their shaking. Allura had never much liked the woman, so cold and strict with her constantly-pinched face, but she had been very, very good at her job. Now Allura clung to the old lessons and sent a thank you to Atarah’s memory.
She breathed through the grief-wounds, old and new.
“Paladins,” she began, and her voice was steady, “I know that we are all upset and confused about Shiro--” and she had to pause and fortify herself, “but we must move forward.” She gazed around at the assembled Paladins, and her heart broke a little more. She had expected loud resistance but every eye was downcast and quiet. They looked so lost. Even Coran, standing beside her, was subdued.
They are so young , she thought, not for the first time. They were only students before all of this, she recalled. Cadets. She remembered when Shiro had explained --
Stop. Breathe. She felt as though a thousand knives had shattered in her chest.
“There is still work to be done,” she pressed onward, and then added more quietly, “He would not thank us for neglecting our duty.”
“Wait, duty?” Hunk lifted his head, confused. “I thought we were done? We beat Zarkon -- I’m pretty sure we killed him -- so Voltron isn’t needed anymore, right?”
“How I wish that were true,” Allura let the depth of her regret shine through her voice just for a moment, then turned to her Second. “Coran?”
“Yes, Princess.” Coran stepped forward and brought the displays up with sharp movements. Allura didn’t need to watch the images and vids that came up. She had already seen them. Instead she stared through them and noted carefully the reactions of her Paladins.
“According to my sources,” Coran said, “and information from our allies in both the Blades of Marmora and elsewhere, Zarkon’s defeat has sent the empire into chaos.” He flicked through images of varying quality, showing many different planets and scenes. “Countless systems are in open revolt, and many have already managed to overthrow their Galra overlords. Unfortunately,” Coran sobered as he brought up the grainy vid of the planet Valmir, “many of the rebellions were not so successful.”
The rebellion on Valmir had been brutally stamped out. The vid had no audio, but the images of fire and desperate suffering told the tale plainly enough.
Allura watched her paladins. Pidge appeared the most stoic, but Allura knew the youngest Paladin’s mind was processing rapidly. Hunk wore his emotions openly, the horror and dismay etched on his face. Keith looked angry -- the cold simmering type of rage that could, hopefully, be harnessed and directed. He also looked determined, an encouraging sign. Lance was somewhere between Hunk and Keith, openly horrified but also focused.
Coran continued, sweeping aside the images of war and death to replace with dossiers. Images and information related to many different Galra leaders came up on the screen. Allura noted Pidge bringing her own console online and downloading the data. “Meanwhile,” Coran said, “in the core of the empire, there seems to be a power vacuum. Any and every military officer or government official with a bit of power and a few soldiers to order around is trying to declare themselves the new emperor. Some have even broken from the empire completely, declaring themselves warlords and carving out little kingdoms for themselves.”
“So instead of one huge empire,” Keith observed quietly, “now it’s like there’s a bunch of little ones all over the place...”
Lance sighed, resigned. “I guess it was pretty naive to think that just because we defeated Zarkon, a universe-spanning, ten thousand year old empire would just … give up.” He raised his hands and gestured sarcastically, “ ‘Oh no! Looks like you guys won! Here’s all your planets back! We’ll just go back on home!’ -- wherever that is…” he frowned.
“On the whole,” Allura said, “a destabilized empire means it is easier for the rebellions to gain a foothold. But at the same time …” She took a breath. “The iron grip of the Galra is clenching ever tighter. We have received innumerable calls for aid just in the past few days. The universe still needs Voltron.”
“But, there’s no way we can cover an entire universe! There’s only fi--” Hunk winced, corrected himself with a sad apologetic look “-- four of us. And we can’t even form Voltron right now.”
“The Lions are quite powerful by themselves,” Allura said. “And make no mistake, we dealt a hard blow to Zarkon’s forces. Their strength is much less now.” She met the eyes of each paladin in turn. “We cannot remain idle in our worry. We can spread our forces and help where we are able.”
“As long as we don't spread ourselves too thin,” Keith murmured, staring at the ground.
Pidge looked thoughtful. “It doesn't make sense for us to just run around reacting to everything. We need to be focused. We need to be able to use our resources efficiently.”
“We have allies now,” Lance pointed out, “We could let them take up some of the work. Not every problem needs a Lion.”
“The right tool for the right job,” Hunk agreed.
‘Shiro would be so proud of them,’ Allura thought to herself.
“That's still plenty for Voltron to do,” Keith said irritated. “Lots of targets to hit. Some of them pretty big.”
“Oh right,” Hunk snapped his fingers and looked to Allura. “What about combat? Chain of command? How do we-- without Shiro …”
A heavy, silent weight settled over the group.
Breathe through the grief, through the yawning hollow in your heart. Allura gathered her strength, again. “Keith will be taking over field command. He will lead you in battle.”
Lance, predictably, was the first and loudest to react. “What?! Keith?!” He gestured widely. “You really expect us to take orders from-- he doesn't even follow orders himself! I'm not even sure he knows what ‘orders’ are!”
“Hey!” Keith protested.
“I can't even tell you how many times he's completely ignored orders and ran off on his own, because it's a lot! How do we know he won't run off when we need him?”
“Can we, maybe, not do this right now?” Hunk tried to step in and stop the argument before it got going. Lance gave his friend a quick glance and a frown.
“I wouldn't do that!” Keith had straightened from his slumped position and was glaring at Lance. “You really think I'd abandon teammates on the field?”
“Guys…” Hunk repeated tiredly, but Allura could see the red and blue paladins’ hackles were raised. She felt a headache coming on.
“You're just jealous because you want to lead!” Keith was saying, fists clenched in anger. “Everything just has to be all about you all the time doesn't it?!”
“Guys!” Hunk tried again, but neither of them were listening.
“Wh- I don't- I never said that!” Lance sputtered. “But YOU,” he jabbed a long finger accusingly, “sure aren't the right guy for the job!”
“Somebody has to step up and we know you won’t!”
“I'm just- why can't Allura lead us?”
Don't bring me into this , Allura silently pleaded. She closed her eyes. How did Shiro manage them?
“Allura doesn't pilot a lion.”
“She pilots the castle ship just fine!”
“That's different.”
“Why?”
“Enough!” Allura cut the both of them off. “Lance, your concern and support has been noted, but Keith is correct. My vantage point from the Castle is much different. While I can and will continue to guide you, in a large-scale battle you must have a tighter focus. Unfortunately, I cannot--” She hesitated. She felt the seed of an idea -- She pushed it aside for the moment. ‘Later. Now, focus.’ “ -- I cannot provide both Overwatch and tactical decisions at the same time. The reaction time between the Lions and the castle are too great. A field command is needed, and that will be Keith.”
“But-”
“Keith will lead,” Allura reiterated firmly, and then her voice went soft, “because that is what Shiro wanted.”
Lance looked unhappy, but slumped in his chair and went silent. Keith, on the other hand, was staring openly at Allura in disbelief, and some other emotion she could not name.
“He told you?” Keith almost whispered.
“Yes,” she said, “Shiro made me aware of his wishes as soon as he had made the decision.” The memories of that conversation -- and its context, its setting, threatened to spill into her mind but she pushed them aside. She strode forward and took Keith shoulders, found an encouraging smile somewhere. “You are the Red Paladin, the sword arm of Voltron. I know you will do well.”
Keith looked briefly terrified and overwhelmed, and then seemed to gather his courage. Good . “I'll do my best,” he said.
“Now that that’s settled,” Pidge said distractedly, “I have a plan.”
Pidge pushed her information from her console to the central display, which lit up a star map. “I've identified two nearby systems we can help immediately and which shouldn't pose a huge combat risk. I figured that while we’re at reduced strength, and until we get more information about our targets, we should probably try to keep our heads down. Do some humanitarian missions and alliance building.”
Allura peered at the information and nodded. “A good idea . What are these systems?”
Pidge pulled the map’s focus to the closer of the two highlighted systems.
“This one is, um, Tarsus IV? According to the information in Coran’s files, the inhabitants there are working on building a communications hub for the rebellions and freed systems, something separate from the Galra network. They've asked for a mediator and protector, and it looks like there's multiple groups involved. Sounds pretty political, but I think it would be in our best interest to make sure this hub gets up and running smoothly.”
“Ah, yes!” Coran exclaimed thoughtfully. “The Tarsians are mostly collaborating with the Olkari on this project. Both are relatively peaceful societies, but have never been in contact before.” He poked through the information, Altean script flowing quickly beneath his fingertips. “Hm, it seems there is also a small contingent of Balmerans involved in the project. In that case, I’d say Hunk would make an excellent ambassador for Team Voltron, wouldn’t you say, Princess?”
Allura smiled at Hunk’s surprised expression. “I agree completely. Hunk is by far the most level-headed among us. His experience with the Balmerans and technical expertise certainly make him well-suited for this mission.” Though, perhaps they could come up with a more formal designation than ‘Team Voltron’, Allura thought privately.
Hunk rubbed the back of his head and looked self-conscious. “Well… okay, if you guys think I can do it. I’ve never really done anything like that before.”
“You’ll be more than fine,” Allura said encouragingly. “And if you’ve any trouble, Coran and I will be just a comm away.”
Lance frowned. “Are we sending Hunk by himself, then? Is that safe?”
“The Tarsus system is really close-by, astrogationally speaking,” Pidge pointed out. “If anything did happen, the Castle could get there in less than an hour.”
“The Castle will remain in our current, secure location, unless we are needed. I will be continuing to work with the Black Lion.” Allura sighed. “She does appear to be self-repairing, if slowly.”
“Okay.” Keith pointed at the other highlighted system on the star map. “So what’s the mission here?”
“That's…” Pidge checked her notes, “X-23LK, it's listed in the star charts as uninhabited, but we received a signal from there, from a group claiming to be a resistance movement in the Empire itself.”
“Like the Blades?” Keith asked.
“Right, but not Galran. These guys claim to date back to the earliest days of the Empire. Whether that's true or not, the castle ship’s systems recognized some of their encryption codes.” Pidge brought up a display on the central screen, comparing two lines of encrypted text. “These codes are the same as those used ten thousand years ago, by civilizations that aren't on our current star maps. The places they used to be?” And Pidge spun the map, briefly lighting up a patch of space located deep in Galra territory.
Allura blinked, the implications were… “You believe these worlds were conquered or destroyed by the Galra--”
“And then the people went underground.” Pidge nodded. “It makes sense, right? What do you when you've been conquered by a crazy purple authoritarian government bent on universal domination? You make an underground resistance.”
“Okay,” Keith cautioned, “but it could just as easily be a trap. They could have pulled these codes out of an archive somewhere, everyone knows the castle’s ancient.”
Pidge pushed up her glasses and gave Keith a look. “If it was a trap, I think they would've made it easier for us to decode the message. It was buried in a dozen layers of encryption. Why go to the trouble?”
“To make us curious? Because they know you like a challenge?”
Allura was busy reading through the information on the system. It was far outside Galra space, in an inconvenient region away from any trade routes. It didn't even have have a proper name. Quite suspicious… but the possibility of allies within the empire, ones that were free of Galra ties, was tempting. Allura had been grateful for the assistance of the Blades of Marmora, but the group was far too secretive -- and far too Galran -- for her to fully trust them.
Additionally, once the battle had concluded, the Blades that had been posted to the castle-ship immediately left, vanishing back into the shadows from whence they came without any solid promise of continued alliance. She knew that they were still in contact with Coran, somehow, but she could not consider them reliable. Even more damning, they had outright refused to give Keith any aid in understanding his newly-discovered heritage. They had allowed him to keep his marked blade, but had completely dismissed any questions he tried to ask them.
No one treated Allura’s paladins that way.
Keith and Pidge were still arguing, caught in one of their “what if” spirals. They could go at it for hours if allowed. Allura spun through the information and raised her voice to re-direct them. “I believe this group is worth investigating. Any information we can gain on the internal workings of the Empire would be quite valuable. We will, of course, need to be cautious.” A bit of the decoded message caught her eye. She peered at it dubiously. “It seems they are specifically requesting the presence of … is this correct? ‘Spymaster Coran?!’”
Coran gave a small chuckle and twirled the end of his moustache. “It appears I have unintentionally developed something of a reputation. Quite a misunderstanding, I assure you, but it has been very useful in the gathering of information and alliances so far!”
Allura narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, then shook her head. That was a story she would demand later. “Well, I’m not sending you alone. You get into far too much trouble when unsupervised.” She ignored Coran’s sputtering protests and considered her remaining paladins. Hm. Perhaps there was an additional opportunity here. “Keith and Lance will accompany you,” she announced.
Both paladins visibly winced. “Um, is that a good idea?” Hunk asked tentatively.
“You two must learn to get along,” Allura said firmly, pinning the two of them with her gaze. “I will not tolerate any more arguments on my bridge. Perhaps some quality time on a wild planet will allow you two to move past this childish feud . You are Paladins of Voltron, and you are better than this!”
The two young Paladins looked properly scolded. They may grumble, Allura knew, but they knew better than to argue with her when she used her Command voice.
Shiro had helped her perfect that. He had helped her to transform the way she’d been taught to project her voice for use in council meetings and royal functions, to harden it for use on a battlefield. She missed him so fiercely.
Focus, Allura. She tapped at the screen in front of her. “Pidge. I notice there is one more item on this plan of yours. What task have you assigned yourself?”
Pidge steeped her hands and got a steely, determined look in her eyes. “I'm going after Shiro.”
A collective gasp of sudden tension went throughout the room.
“I'm going back to the scene of our battle,” Pidge said. “Coran’s information says Zarkon’s ship is still there.”
“Yeah, so is most of a fleet ,” Lance argued. “You’d be flying right back into a warzone.”
Pidge adjusted her glasses. “I thought of that, don’t worry. I've been doing some work on Green. I can put her in a cloaked state and then power down to essentials. If the Galra see anything at all, I'll look like nothing but space junk, debris from the battle. While I'm cloaked I can scan the area, see if I can pick up any trace of lingering energy from the Black lion, Zarkon’s Ro-Beast, or Shiro himself. I’m hoping for a ping on his armor, but I’ve also got his biometrics from the last time he was in a cryo-pod. I can also hack into the Galra systems remotely and search their records. Besides any information on Shiro, I can also gather intel about the state of the Empire. Find us some targets.”
“And you’re sure they won’t catch you doing that?” Keith pressed.
Pidge smiled proudly. “Oh ye of little faith. They haven’t caught me yet, and they won’t now. See, I wrote this new rotating algorithm that piggybacks--”
“Okay, okay,” Keith held his hands up, “we believe you. Just...be careful.”
Allura was tense with trepidation. “This is dangerous, Pidge. Are you sure it’s worth the risks?”
Pidge stared down at the floor for several heartbeats. “Any risk is worth it,” she said quietly, “if it means bringing Shiro back.”
Allura could not bring herself to argue.
Keith, however, could. “It’s not worth it if we end up losing you, too,” he said firmly. “No unnecessary risks, Pidge. Recon only, and the second you have any trouble you scramble out of there, okay?”
The room went silent and five pairs of eyes stared at Keith. “...What?”
Pidge raised an eyebrow at him. “Was that an order?”
Keith crossed his arms and looked away, almost petulantly. “I’m supposed to be taking over for Shiro, aren’t I? This is a tactical decision.”
Lance looked as if he’d swallowed something unpleasant but wisely, for once, held his tongue. Pidge tossed off a somewhat mocking Earth-style salute and said, “Sure. Whatever you say.”
Allura took control of the meeting back before things could devolve again. “Alright. It seems we all have our directions. Are there any other concerns?”
“Just one,” Keith said. “What happens if we end up facing something that requires Voltron’s full force. Like one of Haggar’s monster things. What do we do then?”
Allura was reminded of an Earth proverb Shiro had shared with her. Something about a bridge? She shook her head. “Then we must hope that the strength of four Lions and the Castle will be enough, or seek an alternative solution. Until the Black Lion awakens, there is little else we can do.”
“If she ever does wake up,” Lance whispered sadly.
“She will,” Allura insisted. “She must. It is only a matter of time. Go and gather your supplies, all of you. You should make ready to leave in a few hours.”
Allura sighed as she watched the paladins filter out. She noted Lance’s slumped and defeated shoulders, Keith wound tight as a spring and fidgeting. “We’re going to have to do something about those two, Coran. We can’t afford division. Not now.”
Coran tweaked his mustache thoughtfully. “Not to worry princess, I have just the thing.”
“Do you?” she asked nervously.
“Of course,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Leave it all to me!”
“I know they are struggling with Shiro’s absence…Keith especially. ”
“All of us are, Princess. I know you feel it quite keenly as well.”
For a moment Allura wondered. Did Coran know …?
“You will be attempting to commune with the Black Lion again tonight?” Coran asked, changing the subject. “You should rest, if so.”
She shook off her suspicions. “Yes. Her quintessence levels remain critically low. The more we can help her recover, the faster we can pull her out of her dormant state. The Lions must be complete.”
“And what of a pilot?” Coran asked tentatively.
Her heart beat a staccato, Shiro Shiro Shiro. “We’ll worry about that later. Please, inform me when you’re ready to leave.”
She exited the bridge, took the back-way to her quarters and swept into her bedroom. The lights came up automatically, soft and dim as she had set them before. Her shoulders fell as she exhaled, raised a hand to clutch at the pocket-crystal wherein she had hidden the Black Bayard. Shiro had barely gotten to wield it. She would keep it safe for him.
The mice skittered around her feet, chittering with worry. She could spare no energy for them at the moment, her heart too heavy as she allowed herself to collapse into her bed. One of the little ones climbed up, nuzzled at her cheek and crooned sadly. “Do you miss him, too?” she wondered aloud.
A memory hit her sudden and unbidden; Shiro, smiling, with one of the mice hanging off the end of his prosthetic finger. One of his rare untroubled moments. “They aren't afraid of it,” she remembered him saying in wonder.
“Neither should you be,” she remembered saying back.
Allura squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face into her pillows, sobbed and felt the cracks within her grow.
She could still smell him in the bedsheets.