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Chapter one
“Authorization gained.”
The sky of New Daibazaal is cloudy and the surface of the space airport appears once Keith surpasses the atmosphere. It’s chaotic as usual and Keith takes his time to move between the other different spaceships before the ground tower authorized their landing. He places the cargo ship on the right spot.
“Aaaand we’re home.” Ezor stretches from her seat. “I hope we can get at least a week of rest this time.”
“We haven’t finished yet,” Axca remembers her. “We need to go to the office to write down our report for the mission.”
“Why you have to ruin everything?” Ezor protests.
“You can go,” Keith tells them. “I can do the report for everyone.”
Zethrid jumps and pats him on the back with all her strength. “You’re the best, chief.”
Both her and Ezor are out of the cockpick before he has any chance to change his mind, hands in hands. Keith smiles, but Axca frowns. “You’re spoiling them too much.”
“Maybe,” he comments. “But I’m at my mother’s house this night so I don’t have to worry about resting.”
“You sure you don’t need any help?” Axca asks.
“No, don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nods in the end and anticipates him out of the cargo ship. Keith takes his time to speak with the officer about the ship’s situation before heading to the Marmora headquarter. He greets the coworkers at the reception desk, then closes himself in his office for the reports.
The mission was a success. They freed a planet on the second quadrant from a small group of resilient that put their hand of old Galra weaponries. They opened a new channel for humanitarian refugees there and set up the course for the rebuilding of the main cities. Keith writes down the need for a second expedition there – helping for a diplomatic structure, the teacher of medicine and engineers for the new generation – and his work from the day is over.
His mother has already messaged him to confirm the dinner, so Keith heads in the direction of the house. While he has his own place at the Marmora Headquarter, his mother, after resigning from her place on the government, opted for a real house in the new residential district. She hasn’t had a house before, because of the war. The only time it was when he was with his father, so Keith understands why she chose it.
Returning on new Daibaazal after his missions it’s always strange. Around the galaxies many people know the Voltron Paladins, but not as many how they look. There, everyone has seen them at least once, and everyone recognizes Keith. He can see the look around as he walk down the street.
“Our Voltron Paladin,” they call him. They care about the fact he’s Galra, at least in part.
Keith stops to a pastry buying his mother’s favorite dessert, and the shopkeeper refuses to let him pay. “It’s free for you.”
It’s a change respect the way he felt as a child. He feels he belongs with someone and that he built something worthy. At the same time, he didn’t do any of it for an award, only because he was the right thing to do, so the Garla gratitude is appreciated and embarrassed at the same time.
His mother hugs him at the door. “You look good.”
“I’m good. A easy mission.”
“Where’s Kosmo?”
“Gone.” Keith hides a small gulp.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“He told me about something he has to do,” Keith explains. “It’s not like I understand everything, just that he has to go.” He places the dessert on the kitchen’s table. “And probably he’ll come back, but I don’t know when.”
“Oh. I’m pretty sure he will.” His mother pats her shoulder. “We don’t know much about cosmic wolf after all.”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t say that earth dogs leave when they die, and that he fears Kosmo might have done the same thing. “Where’s Kolivan?”
“On a diplomatic mission on the Second Quadrant,” Kolia explains. “They’re trying to build an international space institute.”
“Oh, yeah, Shiro told me about that. Iverson is there too.”
“Yes. It’s an interesting project, you may take a look.”
“I will.” Keith nods. “What about you?”
“I was proposed for a six-months mission for taking care of a new outpost, but I had to decline. Probably they’ll propose to you,” she guesses. “I’m looking for something else to do, but I feel I’ll be stuck here for the time being.”
“Why did you decline?”
She smiles. She takes a deep breath. “I’m pregnant,” she says, at last. “So I prefer to be around when the time will come.”
Keith blanks. “How?” is the only word that comes out his throat.
“Galra’s lifespan is longer than Earthlings, so is it our fertile period,” his mother explains. “As for the reproductive methods, Galra-”
“That’s not what I meant!” Keith interrupts her. He isn’t going to listen to a sex-talk from her, and definitely isn’t going to have details about her sex life with Kolivan. “I was just… surprised.”
“Two of us. Three, actually.” She chuckles. “We didn’t look for it, but we didn’t avoid it either. War… took a lot from us.” She slides a hand to brush Keith’s arm. “I’m lucky I still have you back.” She hugs him and Keith leans in her body and in her arms, like a child.
“I’m happy for you,” he says, and he means it.
“You know this doesn’t change anything, do you?” The tone gives Keith the impression she isn’t sure as she tries to be.
“I know,” he confirms it, and he doesn’t mean it. It changes a lot, wherever they want it or not.
“Well, you’re probably tired,” she says as she let him go. “I prepared your room, and dinner won’t be ready for at least a varga, so…”
“I’ll go shower,” he nods, and he hopes it doesn’t look too much like a run.
Once he let himself cool down in the shower, he sends a message to Shiro with the datapad. Living in two different Quadrants of the universe makes their communication difficult, but they manage. Keith wear clean clothes as he waits for Shiro’s answer: it may arrive tomorrow, for all Keith knows.
It’s his lucky day, because Shiro calls him directly. Keith rushes to answer and he jumps in the bed backward, datapad in one hand and the head that sinks in the pillow, his long black hair fluttering around.
“Hi,” he smiles as he sees Shiro’s face appearing on the datapad.
“Hi.” Shiro puts on the glasses that helps him severed his connection to the Atlas and smiles back, with sweetness. “I miss you.”
“Me too.” Keith realizes he’s already more relaxed just seeing Shiro’s face. “Can you talk? Which time it is? It’s late afternoon here in Daibaazal.”
“Early afternoon,” Shiro answers, with a slight lift of his eyebrow that means that their time difference is really a pain in the ass. “But Atlas is in the move this week, so I can take a couple of vargas for myself.”
“Good.”
“How are you?” Shiro asks. “How was your mission?”
Keith bites his lips a second, and then blurts out, “fine, I just found out my mother is pregnant, but everything else is fine.”
Shiro blinks. Twice. Then he laughs. Loudly. Keith would pout, but seeing and hearing Shiro’s laugh is still a pleasure he can’t be angry at him, not for real.
“Thank you,” he comments dry.
“Sorry,” Shiro says. He rubs his eyes to calm down, but the smirk is still there. “I just imagined you with your baby brother and I can’t help.”
“Oh, yeah, I can see it’s fun. I’ll probably make him fall the second I have him on my arms. By mistake, but still…”
“Oh, no, no,” Shiro shakes his head. “Actually, I was thinking better. You’re going to spoil him so much. So much. He’ll have you doing everything he wants.”
“That’s not true.” Keith pouts, this time. “I’m a very strictly boss. Ask Ezor or Zethrid.”
“That can be true, but I see how you treat the people you love.”
There is still the smirk on Shiro’s face, and Keith flushes a little realizing that Shiro doesn’t have to say ‘how you treat me’ because it’s clear enough.
“Also,” Shiro adds, with amused tone, “your baby brother may be a baby sister.”
Keith loses it. “You’re an ass. I’m here confessing my worries to you and you just…” He gestures one of his hands.
“I just?” Shiro presses.
“Made me feel a little better, to be honest.”
Shiro laughs again. “You’re welcome. But, Keith-”
“I know, I know,” Keith interrupts him. “I’m not a little child, I’m not jealous. It just caught me off guard, you know? It’s strange.”
“I think it is, and it is a change of your life too. But a positive one.”
Keith nods. “I wished for a family, back then. I wished for my mother’s return, and then for my father’s. Now I have a mother and… Kolivan may not be my father, but he’s still an important person in my life.”
Shiro doesn’t reply. He stands there, smiles and lets Keith talking and venting. It’s a reassuring presence, but Keith misses him ever more: he misses the simple idea of them being together, in silence, their body one next to each other. To actually touch and to hear the other’s breath and voice without the use of a datapad.
“When we can meet?” he asks. They haven’t seen each other in almost a year.
“Atlas’ mission in the Second Quadrant won’t end for another four months,” Shiro says. “Then I may have some free time. If you don’t manage to get a mission next to my area in that period, we can organize later.”
“Sure. Tomorrow I’ll check with the Marmora Headquarters about the new mission.”
“Good.”
None of them want to talk more about the possibility of other four months without a meeting, so they change subject. They talk until Keith’s mother doesn’t call him for dinner.
***
Keith isn’t used to wake up late. His spends most of his time in mission, and there they have a strictly timetable, let aside the time they are in war zone and they do guard duty. But his body needs a good dose of sleep, because without an alarm call, he wakes up at late morning. His mother leaves him a note on the datapad to inform him she let him sleep on purpose.
He decides it’s too late to reach for the headquarters now and that he can take the morning off, considering he finished his report the day before. He sends a message to Axca so she and the other will know and they can take care of the work in his place, if something is up.
He’s in the kitchen, deciding what to eat for breakfast, when the bell rings. With a frown, he opens it. “May I help you?” he asks at the Galra in front of him.
“Red Paladin,” the Galra says. “I apologize for disturbing you. I’m here to deliver an invitation for you from our Duaces.”
“An invitation?”
“Yes. They like to have you for brunch right now.”
“Now?”
“They are sorry for the short notice, but you’re a busy person. We don’t know how much time you’ll stay on Daibaazal before your next mission,” the Galra explains. “I can wait until you’re ready, and I have orders to escort you back to the Town Hall.”
“I’m ready,” Keith says.
He says goodbye to his free morning, but it hasn’t eaten yet and a brunch sounds good.
Plus, he can’t say no to the Duaces. Even if the Blade of Mamora are an organization that depends more from the Voltron Coalition than Daibaazal government, all their members are Galra and they still have their Headquarter on the planet. They have some obligations towards the Duaces. After all, the first Duaces in the history of the Galra republic were his mother and Kolivan, and they were the ones to push for a new role for the Blade of Marmora.
Keith doesn’t know the new Duaces in person. He saw them during the election campaign, even if he didn’t vote for them, but he was on mission when they were elected. Besides, it’s not likely for him to speak with the government. Keith minds his own business with the Blade. He didn’t meet the Duaces that were elected before too, the ones after his mother and Kolivan.
Diplomatic missions are more Allura and Hunk’s role after all. He’s still a little bit curious and a little bit worried about the invitation.
The Duaces are waiting for him in the meeting room at the second floor of the Town Hall, with a table set near the terrace, with view on the capital. The food is already on the table and Keith can smell it from the door.
“Oh, here he this, our Red Paladin,” one of them says, and trumps to welcome Keith. The Galra that accompanied him bows and leaves, closing the door after him. “I’m Farux, it’s an honor to meet you.”
He’s a half-galra, shorter than Keith; his fur is green and he has three eyes, a short tail and not ears. The other Duace is also a half-galra, with not fur but purple scales. He has closes gills on the neck, but overall he seems an average Garla, height and everything.
He shakes Keith’s hand with an iron grip. “Nuru. I’m glad to finally meet you, Red Paladin.”
“I’m Keith,” he introduces himself. “I’m… not a Paladin anymore. Not since Voltron was destroyed.”
“Oh, but it doesn’t matter,” Farux replies, as he gestures at Keith to sit down at the table. “Once a Paladin, always a Paladin. Your heroic gestures are well-known in all Daibaazal. You’re an example for all the Galra.”
“You’re in our school book,” Nuru comments.
“Yeah, sure, you are! They respect your wish to still be called the Red Paladin and not the Black Paladin, but they narrate all your feats.”
“I… wasn’t alone. All the Paladins…” Keith starts.
“But they’re not Galra,” Farux interrupts him. “You inspires us. You give the Galra a new purpose. A new possibility after the war. You save us.”
“I did what’s right.”
“This is why you’re our hero,” Nuru states. “And the reason we ask for you today.”
“Which is?” Keith asks.
“I’ll explain in a second,” Farux nods.
He fiddles with his datapad, while Nuru eats. Keith is hungry and let himself indulges in the food while Farux manages to project the hologram in front of him. It shows a pie chart with three different color.
“It’s a statistic of Daibaazal’s demography,” Farux says, pointing at one of the color. “Around 65% of the population is half-garla, intended as people with a full-blood garla parent and a non-galra parent.” He turns to Keith and smiles. “Like the three of us.”
“I didn’t realize there are so many,” Keith comments.
“It’s only natural,” Nuru says. “After so many years and many planet conquered, mixed race become inevitable. Around Zarkon’s entourage, there was an attempt to keep the purity of Galra blood, but the lower Garla population didn’t mind too much. And Zarkon’s himself had chosen a not-garla as a wife before… the accident.”
Keith nods. He isn’t sure he likes speaking about Zarkon and Honerva. And Lotor: for what he remembers, being a half-garla had been one of Lotor’s downfall. Both Keith and Allura still regret not being able to realize it in time.
“Only the 15% of the population is full blood galra,” Farux continues, “the rest is divided from three quarters Galra, which means people with one full-blood parent and one half-blood parent, and a one quarter Galra, people with a no-garla partent and a half-garla parent.”
“I see.”
“Three quarters Galra are increasing, and so are full blood ones,” Nuru states. “Since we have a planet where we live, unlike during the war.”
“We want to invert this tendency.” Farux turns off the hologram. “By forbidden the wedding between full-bloog Galra.”
“I’m sorry?” Keith blinks.
“We realize it may sound a little bit extreme.” Farux eats for the first time. “But we decide this is the best course of action to salve our people.”
“By forcing them to mix with others?”
Keith isn’t against the idea of mixes relationship. He’s the product of one, his closest colleagues are half-breed too and he met a huge amount of them during his time with the Blades. He’s against the idea of forcing people, and the idea of erasing the Garla that comes with it.
“Yes.” Nuru’s expression is determined.
“Garla brought a lot of destruction to all the other planets,” Farux adds. “We can’t cancel it. But it’s a half-blood Garla that ended the war and save the universe.” He looks at Keith straight in the eyes. “We, as Galra, are better when we’re half breed. We can be better than Zarkon and his men.”
“None of the other paladins are half-blood,” Keith replies. “I don’t think that being a good person has anything to do with it…”
“They’re not Galra,” Farux repeats. “You are. You’re the example we need. Just watching at you, and realizing being a half-breed it’s a lot better than being a pure blood.”
“If you support our marriage law proposal, everyone will agree with it.” Nuru nods.
“My answer is no.”
“But… but why!” For the first time, Nuru loses his cool. “You’re a half-breed! And your mate isn’t Garla, too!”
Oh, no, they wouldn’t drag Shiro in this. Keith places the fork on the table and look at them straight in the eyes.
“My mother is a pure blood Garla, and so he’s is partner, which he was the former leader of the Blade of Marmora, when they were still against Zarkon. They’ll have a child soon. Do you really think I will walk out of here and tell them I vote against them?”
“Well, full-galra marriage happened before the law will remain, of course….” Farux lips his big red lips. “It’s not retroactive. Your mother will be fine.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Keith replies. “I won’t force anything on anyone. I told you before that I do the right thing. This isn’t right.”
“We can’t do the law without you, Red Paladin,” Nuru pleas.
“Then don’t do it.” Keith stands up. “Thank you for the meal. We’re done.”
They don’t stop him as he leaves the room. The Garla at the main gate exchanges a look with him, but says nothing. Keith walks straight towards the Marmora Headquarter and he closes himself in his office to cool it down.
He opens the database with the control checks of the other headquarters and the requests of resource, but his mind returns to the conversation with the Deuces and he can’t help but realizing that most of the people he knows are half-breed. They use to be emarginated, just like Keith was, but now they rise and reject their garla blood. Keith spends time to accept he’s galra, but not all people may have accepted it in the end.
Axca knocks at his door. “You come to the canteen?”
“Uh, sure.”
He didn’t eat too much at the brunch with the Deuces, still he isn’t as much hungry. He takes only a sandwich and sits down with Axca, Zethrid and Ezor. He looks at them with a small frown, until they all become unsettled.
“What?” Zethrid snaps.
“Uh, nothing. Just wondering… what do you think about the current Deuces?”
“Oh, I like them!” Ezor smiles. “I voted for them. They remember me Lotor a little.”
“Uhm… and this is a positive thing?” Keith asks. Next to him, Axca stiffs.
“I didn’t understand all of Lotor’s way of thinking,” Ezor admits. “But at that time, no many uprights gave our half-blood a chance. He does, and that was important. Nuru and Farux speak a lot about the importance of half-galra.”
“And this is the reason why I didn’t vote for them,” Axca comments.
“But you loved Lotor.” Ezor pouts.
“I did, once,” Axca admits. “But he hated being a Galra. In the end, he would have killed us too, because we still have Galra blood.”
She exchanges a look with Keith, and he wonders if she wants to interrupt the conversation at all of she’s reflecting about the difference between him and Lotor.
“Well, he’s like that group,” Ezor says. “The Sincline Force.”
“What?” Keith blinks.
Axca rolls his eyes. “No one. It’s just a fanatic group.”
“Pure blood Garla that assert there are too much half breed around,” Zethrid comments. “They are, like, nostalgic of the Zarkon’s era. Most of them are old Galra that lost their position when the lost the war. They’re not really scared. The most dangerous thing they did was throwing Schmashes’ eggs against a half-breed shop.”
Oh. Great. So they have a government that wants to cancel the pull blood Garla, and a group that mourns Zarkon and hates half-blood. Keith is sure of his statement to the Deuces, still he wonders if he should do something for this Sincline Force’s group.
“Who do you vote for?” Keith asks Zethrid.
She scoffs. “For no one. As long as I have my work, I’m fine.”
The other two looks at her with disapproving look, and Axca starts a discourse about the importance of voting. Keith stops listening and checks about the Sincline Force on his datapad. There are a couple of news about them, but overall Zethrid is right: they speak and do not act.
In the meantime, he receives a message from Nuru.
“We apologize for not being the best guests today. We really respect you, Red Paladin. I hope we may have another chance to have you as out guest.”
Keith doesn’t answer.
***
The datapad rings in the middle of the night. It happens almost every night when they’re on mission, but it’s rare at the headquarter. Keith is still enough used to it to jumps still, fully awakened, and answers.
“Keith here.”
“We have an emergency,” the blade from the shift turn says, “a distress signal from one of our cargo ship in the Third Quadrant of the galaxias.”
“What about it?”
“It got involved into a Weblum attack and it ended up into an asteroid belt. They don’t have a pilot skilled enough to bring them out unarmed.”
“I am the pilot,” Keith understands.
“Correct. They required someone to reach them as soon as possible, because they fear the asteroid might move around them. I send order to the spaceship airport to prepare a pod for you.”
“I’ll be there in five doboshes,” Keith assures.
In emergency situation, the Blade protocol permits individual action without informing the high-up. And Keith, as a former Paladin of Voltron, is considered a special case, so his decisions aren’t usual discusses. Right now, Keith isn’t assigned to another mission, so he can be used in these kind of situations.
He put on his blade armor and rushes to the spaceship airport. He sends a brief message to his mother and another one to Axca, to inform both of them that he won’t be there the next day. At the airport, he finds as promises the pod waiting for him. The office there shows him the pod and all the necessary for his travel.
Keith loads the data of his route and he’s off. The pod is small as a former Galra pod, but with altean and earthling technology. He’s used to fly with it. Without Kosmo and without his usual coworkers it’s a little strange, but he appreciates the quiet for a while.
He checks the route on the control panel to verify that everything is in order. Once he left the solar system of New Daibaazal, he set up the automatic pilot and reclines the seat a little. He can take a nap: he won’t reach the cargo ship in less than five doboshes; the pod will inform it if any inconvenience appears.
He jolts awake without realizing it. He blinks around, unsure. Nothing is strange on the panel control and even looking at the screen and at the window, the route is empty. Still, Keith feels something is strange. He used to sleep on pod like the one he’s piloting now, but his body feels like something is off.
He sends a back-up check on the control panel and he realizes there is a component on the engine that Keith doesn’t remember. It can be a new technology Keith isn’t informed to, still it’s probably the difference of the engine’s rumor that woke him up. Keith turns off the engine, put on the mask of his blade armor and gets to the engine.
He isn’t an engineer. Hunk will be more useful in that kind of situation, but Keith is expert enough to understand that the component is a bomb. He has the same aspect of the one Keith uses back them with the Blade in war. And he also knows that it’s a time bomb. He isn’t sure how much time he has left, so he rushes back on the cockpit, grabs the datapad from the panel control and flies out of the pod.
The bomb explodes. The backlash throws Keith even if he manages to get enough far from the pod to not be caught in the explosion itself. He spins around and loses the grip on the datapad. Once he regained his balance with his jetpack, it disappears in the vastness of the space. The radio on his armor is deactivated, so Keith has no choice but to move around to find it back.
Finding it is useless: the backlash ruined it and make it impossible to use it for contacting the headquarters back. Around him, there aren’t any planet that could have register the explosion. Keith sighs, looking at the remaining of his pod: maybe dying in the explosion would be a merciful dead after all.
***
The dim light makes his head a little fuzzy after the time spending into the vastness of the dark space. Keith stretches his eyes a little to get used to it. The sheets are rough at his touch, hands grip them with strength. His lips are apart, breath fast and desperate.
Patience yields focus.
He lifts a hand to protect his sight and he blink his eyes open. He takes a long breath, filling his lungs with oxygen. His lips are humid as he presses his tongue on them. He regains enough control of his muscles and stands up.
He lied down in a bed that looks more like a stretcher, at the corner of a room with metal walls. Keith has seen enough to recognize it’s the room of a spaceship. He takes a couple of step ahead: a magnetic field separate his corner to the other side of the room. It’s similar to an operation room; alongside the magnetic barrier, it makes Keith a little wary.
He’s grateful to be alive, but he isn’t sure he doesn’t end up into a worse situation. He places a hand on the barrier and he looks down a little, at the white light dress he’s wearing. The idea of someone else dressing him is unnerving.
The slide door on the right opens and an alien enters. Keith doesn’t let his hand fall as he observed the alien: she looks female, with a shape very similar to Ezor. Her skin is more yellow than orange, but she has the same kind of tail on the bald head, with the difference that the tails are two and they start at the nape.
She approaches him. “Good to see you awake, Red Paladin.”
Keith starts. “You know who I am?”
“Of course,” she says, with a gentle smile. “We may haven’t see Voltron coming to our planet during the Galra War, but your heroic gestures are enough. Saving the universe, you saved us too.”
“So you are a member of the Voltron Coalition?”
“Yes. We haven’t much occasion to participate in official events.” She’s now in front of him. “I am Doctor Vixer,” she introduces herself. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” he answers, and it’s a little blunter than he expects. “Can I ask where I am?”
“Of course,” she nods. “This is a medical ship from planet Zhitir. We are returning to our planet after an expedition towards the end of the solar system next to ours. Our route met you a day ago.”
Keith frowns. He does remember his route passing through the end of a solar system with no habitant planets, so Vixer is likely speaking about it.
“Thank you for saving me?”
Vixer nods again. “Of course. Do you remember what happened?”
“My pod exploded,” Keith states. He doesn’t feel to be a good idea informing her about the fact that it was a bomb and not a technological mistake, but she doesn’t ask further, she just nods another time. “Did you find the remain of it around me?”
“No. The area has strong solar winds and we guessed you moved around a lot before meeting with our ship.”
“Yeah, it’s possible. I was trying to contact someone. I don’t remember much.”
“Understandable,” Vixer comments with empathy. “When we found you, you reduced the levels of oxygen of your mask so your reserve would last more, but of course this ended in a less brain activities. And about that,” Vixer moves from one side and she tilts her head to a small device placed on the magnetic barrier. “Zhitirians need less level of oxygen than Earthlings. For you, breathing our atmosphere will be like being at the peak of a very high mountain. Giving your previous condition, we prefer to isolate you in an area where we can inflate a level of oxygen more suitable for you.”
“I’m good now,” Keith assures her.
“Well, then I’ll be lower the level of oxygen so your body can adapt to ours.” She taps the devices a couple of time with her long finger. “Thirty doboshes. In the meantime, would you like something to eat, Red Paladin?”
“That will be great, thank you. And please, call me Keith.”
“Of course, Keith.”
She leaves and she returns five doboshes later, with a small floating tray and a package kept with one of her tail. She pushes the tray through the barrier. “I have you clothes back.”
“Thanks.”
There is also his blade in the package of his Blade’s armor, which reassures Keith of Vixer’s good intention. No reason to give him back his weapon if she plans to keep him prisoner. He changes once she leaves again and then he looks at the food in the table: a dish with grilled meat and a green vegetable and a glass with purple liquid. Keith is too hungry to complain, and in the last years he ate the most stranger things.
The device bleeps just when Keith ends his meal. The magnetic barrier disappears by itself. Remembering Vixer’s word, Keith takes a long breath: it’s true it seems to be in a mountain, but overall it doesn’t seem to bother Keith so much. He places his blade at his belt and he leaves the room, bringing the tray with him.
The door connects with Vixer’s office. “Oh, don’t worry,” she says as she notices him. “Let it be, I’ll take care of it later.”
“Thanks.” Keith places the tray next to the wall. “Listen, can I sent a communication to the Blade headquarters? I was supposed to reach a distresses cargo ship in the Meridian Belt and I need to inform them of my situation.”
“Of course.” She frowns a little, and her two tails flinch. “Come with me. I’ll introduce you to the others.”
Keith follows her in the hallway until the cockpit of the spaceship. It turns out the crew is composed of only three people. Other than Vixer, there are Merther, the engineer, and Lorga, the captain and pilot. Both of them have the same yellow skin and bald head, bit Merther has a long tail on the right side of her head, while Lorga has five of them, all from the back of her neck.
“It’s an honor to meet a Paladin of Voltron,” Merther exclaims with her pitchy voice, and she shakes his hand with strength. “Welcome to our humble space ship.”
“Zhitirians are more known for their knowledge of medicine than others,” Vixer explains.
“Nice to meet you,” Lorga says, and she doesn’t stand up from her spot at the control panel.
“Thank you for helping me,” Keith smiles. “I’m sure you have enough technology for me to send a message.”
Vixer and Merther exchange a look. “We have,” Lorga affirms, “but we won’t use it, I’m sorry. Once we reach Zhitir, we will put you in contact with whoever you’d like.”
“Why not now?” Keith protests. “I was in a mission, for helping a cargo ship in danger. And it’s important to me to inform the Headquarter before they send expedition looking for me.”
“We understand,” Merther assures him. “But our mission is important too, and we can’t risk the communication to be intercepted. This area is outside the frequented route and it under space pirates’ control.”
Keith frowns deepens. Lorga anticipates him, “we’ll be on Zhitir in three quintants. As much as we understand you concert, it’s a reasonable amount to time to wait. Cargo ships have enough resource to survive and the Blades can send someone else if the situation becomes dangerous. We can’t.”
“Of course,” Vixer nods. “Come. I’ll show you.”
Keith resolves to not protest anymore. It’s on a foreign spaceship and he owes them his life. Still, he feels they’re being unreasonable. He leaves the room with Merther’s sorry gaze on him, while Lorga doesn’t look back. He follows Vixer back on the medical quartier, where she opens another room.
It’s a small one, with all the wall surrounded by machines. At the center of the room, there is a circular glass column full of blue liquid. Vixer nods to Keith to get near and he obeys. From near, he can see a small heart-shaped object connected with four cables. The object pulses at regular rhythm.
“It’s… a heart?” Keith asks.
“Of course,” Vixer says. “It’s the heart of a Mixellu.” She taps on her datapad and show him a hologram. “They lives on the rings of the last planet of the inhabited planet system next to us. Their organs have the incredible ability of adapting to any other living being, with no rejection whatsoever.”
A Mixellu looks like an antelope, with six legs and a longer, black fur. The muzzle is long, with fangs, and the two horns round around its neck. It has two short tail.
“Amazing,” Keith comments.
“Unfortunately, a Mixellu’s heart is small, so it can survive outside a living body for a small amount of time, even with our technology,” Vixer explains.
“Do you share this information with the Voltron Coalition?” Keith asks. “A heart that can adapt can save a lot of people around the universe, a lot better than the actual technology with artificial heart. And I have a genius friend I haven’t any doubts can create a technology that can preserve the Mixellu’s heart for longer.”
“I suppose you’re referring to the Green Paladin,” Vixer says. “We know about her intelligence. And also, about her connections with the Olkari. We don’t… get along with them.”
“Why not?” Keith is surprised: Olkari are a very peaceful population.
“Divergence of philosophy,” Vixer comments. “It’s a story of a long time ago, even before the Zarkon’s empire, but… we don’t have many chance to redeem after that. But even the Galra Empire used us in a different way. They’re the smarter one, we’re just the foot soldiers.”
Keith finds the entire situation absurd. Even if Olkari have a better technology, it doesn’t mean they can lower Zithirians’ discovery. “Things are different in the Voltron Coalition.”
“Of course,” she says, and she doesn’t look convinced. “But, as you understand, we can’t risk to get caught by space pirates. My patient hasn’t much time, and so doesn’t the heart.”
“I understand,” Keith confirms. “And I’ll wait until Zhitir. But after that, I assure you I’ll use my role as a former Paladin of Voltron to have more contact with your planet. That’s the role of the entire Coalition.”
Vixer smiles, and this time it looks more genuine. “Of course, Red Paladin.”
Keith can’t say he’s satisfied with the situation: he’s worried about the cargo ship and about the fact that someone put a bomb on his pod. Waiting isn’t one of his best trait, because he’s more a man of action. Still, he can’t be responsible of the death of a person and, if it means wait a couple of Quintans, he can do it.
Of course, as Vixer may say, the universe has other plans.
He steps out the heart’s room and he trips as the entire spaceship trembles. He places a hand on the wall to keep his balance and, with the other, he grasps Vixer’s arm so she doesn’t fall.
“No, no,” she cries. “Not the space pirates.”
The spaceship regains enough its stability to allow both of them to run to the cockpit. The situation is frantic: Keith observes the screen to notice a big spaceship that looks like a crabs on their tail. It is shooting at them.
“The right engine is down,” Merthel informs. “I can shut it down, but it slow down our ship.”
Lorna grits his teeth. “No, for now. We’re still faster.”
“But if it’s on fire, it can reach the heart,” Vixer protest.
“If we slow down, the heart will die nevertheless,” Lorna replies.
“Can I drive?” Keith offers. “I’m a pretty good pilot.”
Vixer and Merthel moves their look on Lorna. “He is a Paladin of Voltron,” the first says.
Lorna presses her lips together. “Please,” Keith murmurs.
“Fine,” she comments, standing up. “But this isn’t a lion of Voltron.”
“I think I can manage.”
Keith sit down the pilot seat and takes the command. It hasn’t piloted such a ship before, but the panel looks very similar to another he tried in the past. He gives a couple of tentative moves to see how much the ship responds to his movement. He smirks.
“Here we go.”
He accelerates the ship, with Lorna that almost lost her balance behind him. He sees the shooting at the right side of the ship and he avoids it, flying into spiraling. At the same moment, he tries to see in front of him if he has enough space of maneuver: they are in a zone between two solar systems, so there aren’t many spot to hide. There is a small nebula, though.
It’s Keith best shot: he gives another accelerate and pushes the ship inside it.
“They’ll see us with their sensors,” Lorna informs him. “And we can’t hide here forever.”
“I know,” Keith nods. “But they can’t anticipate our next move.”
“The engine is almost down,” Mether says.
“Do you think you can repair it?”
“From the damages I see here, I don’t think so. I can make some quick repair to have it working for some time more.”
“Please, do it.” It’s a request more than an order, but Lorne stiffs and presses her lips together. “If it’s okay,” he adds.
“What do you have in mind?” Lorne asks.
“Those kind of ships are usually slower in changing their directions backwards,” Keith explains. “If I shot our ship in their direction instead, they will have to turn, and in the time they succeed, we will be far.”
“We don’t have that speed,” Lorne says. “And even if we manage, they’ll still can reach us later.”
“But it’s a possibility,” Mether murmurs.
Lorne turns her head on Vixer. “What about the heart?”
“I’m afraid the speed and the overload may damage the machines,” she admits.
“So what do you suggest?” Keith demands. He’s annoyed, but it isn’t his ship.
“We surrender,” Lorne decides. “We can negotiate with them. They don’t do unnecessary damage, and we have the reserved money just because of this kind of situation.”
Keith isn’t sure negotiate with criminals is the best course of action. Still, he moves from the control panel. Mether e Vixer agree with their captain’s decision and they definitely know the area better than Keith. He doesn’t want to ruin his possibility to form tied contact with Zithir.
Lorna opens a channel towards the pirate ship. “This is Captain Lorne from the Zithir Army. We are a medical ship for a medical expedition. We don’t have anything of your interest with us.”
The answer comes a second later. “This is Captain Grogs.” It sounds almost like a mock. “And let us decide that. Come out from the Nebula and let us onboard.”
“Roger.”
Keith snorts and Lorne brings the ship in plain sight. From the pirate ship emerges a little pod that attaches at the Zhitirian’s ship. Lorne moves to open the hatch and let them enters, as Keith remains with Mether and Vixer: both of them tries to keep him hidden.
Two men and one woman enters in the ship. Keith understands one of them is Grogs, at least from the way the others just follow him around. He’s a balmerian, and Keith remembers Shay as she told that the Balmera that ended up destroyed by Zarkon created a lot of homeless bamerian, and none of them remained good people. He doesn’t recognize the other two aliens.
Grogs explores all the ship, and his face darkness as they move in the small spaceship, exploring all the rooms. Keith and the other two remains on the cockpit, surveilled by the other two pirates. The woman gives Keith a look, with a frown on her face, but then she let him alone.
“This is all we have,” Lorne says, as she and Grogs return. “You can take the money I show you, and this is it.”
“It’s not enough,” Grogs spats. “We lost time to follow you, and time costs. You speak about that thing’s heart, right? How much your planet we’ll pay for it?”
“This is not possible,” Vixer interrupts. Grogs glares at her, but she continues, “the heart won’t last more than three days. Not enough time for our planet to pay the randsom, making the entire deal useless.”
Grogs comes near her and almost yells in her face, “then let the heart die and tell me how much they’ll pay for you all!”
“Stop.” Keith’s voice is steady in the cockpit, commanding.
“Otherwise?” Grogs grins in his direction and lifts his fist.
He’s slow, and Keith grabs his blade and turns it in a full sword aimed at the other’s neck. He stops as the blade brush Grogs’ skin: the other two pirates raise their guns at him, so Keith reflects if, in that small area, he can defeat all three before they hurt someone else.
Grogs isn’t stupid as he seems, because he orders, “idiot, aim at the others!” And immediately the other two’s guns are on Vixer and Lorna.
Keith breaths hard. “Let this spaceship go, and I’ll give you something worthier.”
“Which is?”
With a slow gesture, Keith moves the blade from Grogs’ neck and keeps it in front of him, the tip points at the ground. It turns back into a knife. “Me.”
Grogs tilts his head and looks at him with attentive eyes. “Damn. He’s a Paladin of Voltron,” the pirate woman gasps. “The Galra one.”
“Are you sure?” Grogs asks.
“Positive.”
“Oh, well,” Grogs’ smirk widens. “Looks like we found something worthy after all.”
“We have a deal?” Keith demands.
“I don’t care about a small planet at the end of the galaxias if I have something to ask back at the entire Coalition.”
“No, wait!” Vixer exclaims.
Keith shakes his head at him and passes her his knife. “Will you call the Blade Headquarter for me, please?”
“Of course,” she nods with vigor, as Grogs gestures at his two crewmates: one of them grabs Keith’s arms and twists them behind his back, while the other keeps his gun aimed at him.
“It was a pleasure,” Grogs says the three Zhirinsian goodbye before stepping backward and the others drags Keith with them.
They handcuff him in the moment he steps in their pod, metal cuff grips his wrists. Keith sags them a little: magnetic ones, remote control, with the ability of get attach to the metallic wall. The space pirates have access to a good technology. A little too good for Keith’s taste.
Once they arrive on the main ship, Keith meets the rest of the crew, counting at least fifteen people. It won’t be impossible for him to escape them, or at least defeat some of them, enough to reach a pod. He doesn’t have his blade, though, and Grogs doesn’t let any opening, for now.
“Look, friends,” he yells. “We have a very important guest with us today! The Garla Paladin of Voltron will stay with us for a while!”
All the crew’s eyes move to Keith, and he sees their curiosity. He still doesn’t like that kind of attention. “He’s small,” he ears one of them whispers.
“Escort him to the guest’s quarter,” Grogs orders to the people that was with him in the pod, “and be careful. He isn’t the usual guest.” Then, he pats Keith’s back in a friendly way. “Enjoy your stay.”
Once they are alone in one of the hallway on the ship, Keith looks around. There aren’t guns aimed at him right now, only the grip of the woman on his arm. He saw worse. In a second, he put his leg in front of the other’s one, making him fall. It is a distraction enough for the woman to stop and for Keith to push him against the wall, freeing himself from her grip.
A second later, his body explodes in pain. Keith falls on his knees and grit his teeth. He realizes his cuff just shoot a jolt of electricity at him. The man in the ground stands up and there is a small control in his arm.
“Boss is right,” the woman whispers. “You are dangerous. I hope you’re also worthy.”
“Oh, he is,” the man grins. “I’ve been on Daibaazal once. He’s a hero there.”
“He’s a hero everywhere,” she scoffs. “Just look at what he did before.”
“Yeah. I hope we don’t ruin his reputation.”
He bends down next to Keith, and helps him standing up. Keith’s body is still shaken because of the electricity.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” he says. “It’s just business. Once they pay us, you’ll free to go. It’s better for both of us to keep this civil.”
Keith nods a little. He has no intention to not try to escape again, because he isn’t in his nature to remain still, but in that moment he only wants to regain the control of his body. The man helps him walking until the room Keith guesses it’s his cell. He pushes Keith gently inside and the door shut closes behind him. Keith blinks and leans down the door, before letting himself fall on the ground.
“We’re here if you need something,” the woman says, from the other side.
“I suppose I can’t ask for letting me go, right?” Keith jokes.
“Unfortunately, no. And we can’t take off the handcuff too. For everything else, we can manage.”
“Just informing the Marmora Headquarter I’m alive.”
“Oh, we sure will.”
***
After seven days, Keith hasn’t find a way out yet. They are very careful with him: nobody opens the door of his cell, the food is being brought by a slot and they let his hands free only for eating and for the bathroom. He isn’t a good actor like Lance or Coran, so his only attempt at faking an illness went into nothing.
The only positive thing Keith can think of is that his mother, Shiro and his friends now know he’s alive. Keith smiles at the thought of Shiro and the Atlas, imagining the pirate ship dealing with the giant mecha the Atlas can become. Of course, Keith realizes Shiro is galaxies away from him and he can’t just drop everything for him.
For now, Keith can just wait for the Blades to send help. The cell isn’t actually that bad: it’s big, with all the comfy, like a holo-television with a great collection of movies from all the planets. The bed is soft and the bathroom has a very big bathtub with hot water. He images diplomats or nobles can even enjoy their time in captivity as they wait for their home planet to pay the ransom.
It’s a smart move. It avoids complains and runs. It doesn’t work on Keith, that spends most of his time sitting in the bed, his brain rushing into finding a way to escape. He doesn’t want Daibaazal neither the Voltron Coalition to pay for his freedom. That money can be used for better reason than him.
His eyes are closed when the first shake happens, almost throwing him on the ground. He spends too much time in war to not realizing that something is shooting the pirate ship. Keith hopes they are Marmora and not another pirates. He stands up and places himself neat the door, ready to run.
Another discharge of electricity passes through his body. It isn’t strong enough to pass him out, but enough to stop him for a second. The door opens and one pf the pirates grabs him and drags him in the hallway.
“Come quiet,” he orders.
“What’s happening?” Keith asks.
“Your friends are more interesting in destroying us that saving you,” the other spats. “We were wrong about you. You’re not as important as a hero now that there isn’t war.”
An irrational fear catches Keith by surprise and takes away his breath. He doesn’t consider himself a hero, still he doesn’t believe any person of the Voltron Coalition would be okay in letting him get killed. Wouldn’t they?
“Stop!” A voice gets Keith out of his head.
“Oh, please,” the pirate grumbles.
“Lorne? What are you doing here?”
Lorne stands there, at the center of the hallway, a laser gun in both her hands. “Let him go,” he orders, but her voice betrays her fear.
The pirate smirks. Keith realizes it’s his change. He presses his foot on the other’s one and the kicks him in the wall. Lorne filches. She has enough reflex to get near and keeps her gun pointed at the pirate. Keith scans his body and then presses again his feet on the pirate’s wrist, forcing him to let the handcuff control go. Lorne understands: she uses one of her tail to collect it and opens Keith’s binding.
Keith rubs his sore wrists. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she replies.
“This is you doing?” he asks, gesturing at the shaking ship.
“No.” She uses the handcuff to tied up the pirate. “We tried to contact the Marmora Headquarter or Daibaazal Government, but our calls don’t get through,” she explains. “I can’t let you here, not after what you did for us, so we put on a ransom and I’m here to deliver here. I was making arrangements with Grogs when Daibaazal Army attacked.” She smiles. “I guess they didn’t appreciate their Paladin being kidnapped.”
“Maybe,” Keith replies.
“Let’s get to my ship and get out of here.”
Keith looks at the pirate at his feet and shakes his head a little. “Come with me,” he orders. She seems unconvinced, but she follows. They reach the control room: Grogs is there and he’s screaming both at his men and at the communication device.
Keith spares him no attention, despite the oblivious looks he gets to be there unbound and alone. He reaches for the communication device and opens the channel.
“This is Commander Keith Kogane from the Blade of Marmora,” he says. “I am unarmed. Please cease the fire and send a ship to collect me.”
“And what if I disagree?” Grogs says.
“Do you prefer they to keep shooting?”
Grogs remains silence. So do the communication device. From the screen, Keith can see three Galra cruisers surrounding the pirate ship. They are part of Daibaazal fleet, Keith recognizes them and the fact they have the most advanced technologies on board.
“This is Keith Kogane. Do you copy? Hello?” Still not answer from them.
“Heroes aren’t worth much these says.” Grogs snorts. “You two, at the cannons, slow them down as much as possible. You, load the pods, you prepare them. I’ll set the bomb for the auto destruction. We’re evacuated.”
Lorne places her hand on Keith’s arm. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” she says. “But we have to go.”
He nods. They run to the hangar: the other pirates are there, but they’re too busy with their own duties to stop them. And, after all, Keith isn’t a valuable hostage anymore. The door is already open, to allow a fast escape of the pirates. Lorne gestures at her small pod and Keith recognizes the Zhirimian style.
“Can you pilot?” she offers.
“Yes.”
Being at the panel control of a ship helps Keith to regain control of his mind after the shock of his own people ignoring him. He tastes the engine before leaving the parking spot and shooting into space.
“What are you doing?” Lorne asks.
Keith flies the ship below the pirate one and keeps the engine turned on, but stable, so they can stay in balance.
“Did you hear? Grogs is destroying his ship.”
“Which is the reason why we should run as fast as we can.”
Keith shakes his head. “They’ll use the explosion as a diversion to escape with the pods. It won’t work: the cruisers might slow down, but not enough. They have radar system, they’ll spot and find them all. The only way we have to escape is to go in the opposite way, and let the explosion cover for us.”
Lorne crosses her arms and bites her lips. “Don’t you prefer to try to contact the cruisers again? They’re from Daibaazal.”
“They are,” he answers only. “But they’re trying to kill me right now, so…”
“Are you sure about that?” Lorne asks. “Maybe they don’t want to negotiate with pirates, but now that you’re free.”
Keith shakes his head. “Do you remember you found me in outer space? The explosion of my ship wasn’t accidental. It was a bomb.”
Lorne’s mouth opens and she gasps. “Your people are trying to kill you? But… But you’re a Paladin of Voltron! You’re their hero!”
“Not for all of them,” he says, and he sounds bitter than he likes.
She decides to not ask further, and she sits down next to him. Keith closes his eyes and concentrates on his senses. The ship is trembling a little for the shooting outside. There is a major jolt and Keith realizes it’s the moment. He presses on the accelerator just when the pirate ship explodes.
The waves of it helps their pod to shot down in the space, but Keith has enough control on it to let the pod remain steady in his route. He directs it towards the orange planet next to them. In the days of captivity, he learned it’s a gasses planet, that the pirates use as a secret hideout. Once, they used the same trick against Zarkon.
The pod hasn’t a very precise radar, but Keith doesn’t need one. He drives upfront without stopping. It takes more than a varga to cross the entire planet, and Lorne doesn’t say a word for the entire time. Once they’re on the other side, she sighs, so deeply as she hasn’t breathed for the entire trip.
“Are we safe?”
He checks with the radar. “I guess so. The explosion covered us, and I saw the cruisers moving towards the pirates pods before we entered in the planet.”
“What now?”
Keith doesn’t know, to be honest. He had some time to think about the bomb while prisoner of the pirates, and understood the culprit should be someone inside the Blades, as much as the thought makes his heart clutches. He trusted the Blades his life in war.
He had no idea of the reason. Keith is a Commander of the Blade, but most of the time is around for missions and he surely doesn’t use his authority with the council. The only guess he has is the Sincline Force Group. After all, they hate half-breed, and Keith is one of the most famous half-breed about there. They don’t look dangerous by their records, but maybe they raised the bar.
Now, with the Zhimirians not being able to connect with Marmora Headquarter and the fact that three Galra cruisers didn’t respond to his call and kept shooting at a ship they knew he was on board, the situation looked a lot more complicated. Or maybe the Sincline Force is more rooted that he thought.
“Can I ask hospitality in your planet?” he asks. “For now. Until I sort out all… this.”
“Sure.” She smiles. She places one of her tail in her pocket and take off his blade. “This is yours.”
“Thanks.” He puts it back in his belt. “Let’s go.”
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