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Galra doesn’t have Daemon.
The natural consequence is their growing interest of their Terran prisoners and the strange animals they carry around with them.
Shiro, Sam and Matt were out cold as they were captured, but they soon woke up once the Galra tried to separate them from their Daemon. They stood there, scared, each one of them hugging their Daemon; Matt especially was crying and pleading them not to separate him and his Daemon.
In the end, the Galra – at that time, Shiro wasn’t able to understand their language at all – seemed to understood that, whoever they was, the Daemon and the human should stay together, even if it wasn’t necessary that they touched.
Still, the considered dangerous to let the Daemon run freen. They were closed in special cage, which were put inside their cell. Between the bars Shiro could touch his Daemon, Atlas, little paw, and rub his small head, the only comfort gesture he got from the cold of his cell.
He knew, deep inside, it was only a matter of time before the Galra would start experiment on them. Even on Earth there are some group interested into understanding better the secret of the Daemon, but it was doomed as illegal since it brought the dead of the person and his Daemon in all cases (even people who survived without their Daemon, they didn’t do for long).
Galra doesn’t have that kind of Earth, neither that kind of attention. Shiro suspected they weren’t above murder either, and at the time he didn’t even understand the endless power of the Empire, not their cruelty.
But if it was the Daemon’s presence that sparkled the interest of the terrible woman even Galra called “a witch” behind her back, it was Shiro’s own behavior to turn her attention into a full obsession.
What Galra have and Terrans haven’t is the secondary gender.
Shiro learned about it mostly thanks for his conversation with his cellmates at the gladiators’ pit and catching the conversation between the Galra guards or the Galra scientists that examined him from time to time.
He suspects his knowledge of the secondary gender isn’t accurate, but enough to understand how it works and why the witch made a big fuss about Shiro as a prisoner.
So, there are three different type: Alpha, Beta and Omega.
He doesn’t know exactly what different on the reproductive system the secondary gender have – surely Shiro isn’t going to ask any galra to show him their genitalia, his being a hopelessly gay has his limits, and being a prisoner definitely is one of them.
Yet, he understands the difference at physical level.
Alpha are inclined to be taller, broader, and stronger. They don’t necessarily are prone to leadership, as mostly Alphas are guards or soldiers, but they’re loyal to their leader and their love for fights come from it. All Galra army is composed of Galra.
Beta are as tall as Alpha, usually, but less broad and strong. They’re inclined more about scientific matters and overall her QI is higher. They’re still part of the army, especially in those faction where strategy is mostly needed. Shiro hasn’t been able to identify Beta from Alpha at first sight yet, but he’s pretty certain the doctor that heals him after every fight is one of them.
Omega are smaller and weaker, still loyal, but inclined to stay out of trouble. There is some hatred in the way Alphas speaks about Omegas, but Shiro isn’t sure is directly at omegas themselves or just at him because he’s a prisoner from a weak planet. Still, he wouldn’t surprise Shiro if Omegas are being ostracized by that culture that pride in fights and bloods.
From Shiro’s understanding, there aren’t Omegas in the Galra army.
Galra decided that the animal companion the Terrans have with them is the physical manifestation of their secondary gender.
Sam was considered a Beta, both because his intelligence and because his daemon, being a ostrich, is as tall as him. Despite being as smart as his father, Matt was deemed as an Omega, because his daemon, a brown poodle, is shorter than his knees.
And of course Shiro was also considered an Omega, since Atlas is a small, fluffy and fat Japanese squirrel, with big adorable eyes. Except for Galra being furries themselves, Atlas is probably everything they hate. Shiro is so used to people mocking him for Atlas he managed to only roll his eyes in annoyance.
So, Sam was separated from them to be destined in some prisoner labor, while Matt and Shiro were dragged to the gladiator pit alongside other “Omega” aliens, clearly with the idea of them being massacred by the champion gladiator for the entertainment of the higher-ups Galra. They didn’t even worry about Atlas when they pushed Shiro in the arena. He wasn’t considered a threat for the champion, as much as Shiro.
Yet, Shiro won.
He defeated the champion of the Galra – a clearly Alpha – with his small, fluffy creature at his side.
And that was what sparkled the interest of the witch in them.
An interest that became a fully obsession in Shiro and is supposed “secret”, the way he can possessed the ability and the strength of and Alpha (and the body too, considering Shiro is taller than mostly Terrans) yet having such a small a cute creature as symbol of his own soul.
“When you found out, please tell me,” Shiro says once, tired after a battle and tired of being dragged into the witch’s laboratory once again.
He got enough shit in his early years at the Garrison, a space witch with yellow, scary eyes to annoy him about his daemon.
“You said these creatures are like physical manifestation on one’s soul… I guess we can consider them a physical manifestation of one’s natural inclination. For fight, for being eaten.”
“There aren’t daemon experts, not even on my planet. They’re mystical, you see.”
“But you can see some features of the daemon into his owner.”
“I guess so.”
“So how do you explain yourself?”
“I don’t. Nobody does. Maybe I’m just that special.”
Shiro coughs a little in his own black humor. But the witch is looking at him with a predatory smirk and a spark in her yellow eyes.
“Yes, you are, Champion.”
There are moments Shiro appreciates being in the arena more than anything.
He still hates the killing and the Galra enjoyment, but at least the fights distracted him by the horror that are the witch’s experiment on him.
At that point, Shiro can’t ever close his eyes without the memory of her yellow eyes comes towards him. He tries to collect back some of his memories of the past to relax himself, but his time on Earth is so stranger than is situation it looks like a distant legend, something Shiro doesn’t feel he lived for real.
All his reality is the witch right now. She’s so obsesses with him the only days she doesn’t summon in her laboratory are the days he fight, so he becomes a little eager for them.
Not even once he regrets his decision to remain alive, to fight for surviving another day. He doesn’t want to die.
It’s just so damn hard sometimes.
At least Atlas is with him, his little body curled in Shiro’s lap.
He makes him believing he didn’t lose his soul.
“I think I’ve come to a conclusion, Champion. You are an Alpha, that much is clear. But you don’t want to. That’s why your subconscious created such a despicable creature to represent you.”
A shiver crosses Shiro’s body, as he looks at Atlas’ cage.
“If I find a way to remove the obstacle from you, I’ll turn you into a fully Alpha. I can find a way for every Galra to be Alphas.”
They took his arm, and substituted it with a metal one with some upgrading.
Fighting with that is easier, Shiro doesn’t even need a sword anymore. Fighting has become easier and easier, with him being able to shut down himself in order to survive. If he remembered what he is during a fight, he would probably lose it.
He’s just grateful he’s still himself.
At that point he got used of the witch’s presence in his life. It doesn’t stop to be annoyed, he still wants to fight it, but he’s not scared anymore of closing his eyes and sees the yellow pupil again. He needs to surpass them to access at his memories.
He’s scared of losing them, of losing memory of what he used to be. He can see some memory fading away, like the taste of mac and cheese from the Garrison canteen or the warm of the sun in the desert, or the touch of the wind as he drives a hoverbike.
Deep inside, he knows he already lost something precious. It’s a lingering feeling, but no matter how much he closes his eyes and goes back to his life, he can’t remember anymore. He guesses that’s the reason he lost it, whatever it was.
He guess his brain is trying to protect it from whatever memories he has forgotten. Funny, because what he wants to forget for real was the witch and everything related to her. But maybe what he lost was worse.
He places his back on the cell he occupies alone and sighs.
They come for him.
Again.
A few days of freedom and quiet shouldn’t have let him down his guard so much.
“You took my hand. What do you want?”
Tied up on the cold surface, screaming is the only (useless) thing he can do.
The witch’s obsession with him isn’t going to stop so soon, and for just a few screams.
Even this time she isn’t there; only the Beta doctor and his minions are there. Even if the Beta doctor isn’t as scary as the witch, he’s been very present during Shiro’s day of prisony.
But his obsession with Shiro is pretty different from the witch, Shiro realizes, in the moment the Beta Doctor knocks the guard off and frees Shiro.
“Listen to me. We don’t have much time,” he says, and Shiro tries, very hard, to remain awake and listen to him. “Zarkon has located the Blue Lion of Voltron on your planet Earth. You must take it before he does.”
“What are you doing?” Shiro mutters, too shocked for the first light of hope he has in so many days of darkness to think something more articulate.
The Beta Doctor doesn’t answer: after freeing him from his restrain, he takes off from a closet a cage, opens it and then shoves on Shiro’s lap a small, fat squirrel.
“Get to a pod, now!”
“Who are you? And what is it?” Shiro asks, looking at the small squirrels that claws at his prisoner clothes and trembles agains his chest.
“I am Ulaz. Now, come on.”
He hasn’t answer about the squirrel, but Shiro trusts in some way it must be important, otherwise Ulaz wouldn’t have given it to him. He follows Ulaz outside the laboratory, hearing his explanation about the Blade of Marmora and the fact Ulaz has let Shiro a way to find him again in the future.
And Ulaz gives him a purpose, a reason to go on. A reason to understand that all he endured and did in the past may have a greater meaning.
“As a fighter, and a leader, you give hope. Earth needs you. We all do.”
So Shiro runs, the squirrel still in his arms, as hard as it is with his weak and tired body, and gets on the pod Ulaz prepared for him, and escapes, leaving the Galra prison and the witch’s obsession behind him.
Once he’s far enough, he releases the breath he didn’t notice he was holding up, and laying down on the cold ground of the pod.
His brain is shutting down because of the drain adrenaline of the run and Shiro shuts his eyes, hoping he won’t forget again the important things. He can forget about the prison, he can forget about the witch, he can even forget about Ulaz, but he has now a mission to do.
Returning to Earth and finding the Blue Lion. Brain, please, do not shut down this. Every other things, fine, but not this. I can’t afford losing anymore.
The squirrel has stopped trembling, and it curls now around Shiro’s neck, his little heart beating against Shiro’s skin.
It’s relaxing, and feels familiar, even if Shiro can’t remember why, not even if he tries. He lifts a hand to rubs the squirrel’s back as he finally lets his body falling into a sleep.
It’s like he can rest now that he gets his soul back.
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