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Aliens were real.
Zarkon would have ever believed it, but it was hard not to do when you had been taken prisoner by them, and now you’re tied up to a table and examined by people that weren’t Galra: no purple skin, no fur, not pointed ears and fangs, and while sclera instead of yellow.
They’re scaring. Zarkon was just a pilot – fine, the best of the Daibazaal Academy, but his aim was to be remembered as the first one outside the solar system of his planet, not… the first to due for an unwanted alien first contact. He wondered where his two comrades have been taken.
“The quintessence levels are low,” one of the men talked, and Zakon started, surprised he could understand them now. Did they do something to his ears? His brain?
Another voice, hoarser, came through the comms. “Throw him to the pit.”
Turned out, the pit was a gladiator arena, where the prisoner considered not worthy enough fought for their life and for the entertainment of Terrans. They said ‘fight’, but Zarkon understood it was more a unilateral massacre.
The prisoners – Zarkon joined a group of very different aliens coming from all the corner of the universe, all captured by the Terrans – were common people, not fighter. They weren’t trained, and they had only a weak sword to attack and defend himself, where their opponent was a huge Terran, with a full body armor, a shield a very large axe.
None of them should stand a chance.
But if there was something Zarkon had is his stubbornness. Galra as a race were proud people, the kind that wouldn’t face death without a fight. Victory or death was the motto of the ancient Galra, when they were divided in different tribes.
Zarkon proved to be the rightful heir of his ancestor, fighting like a yellmore with tooth and nails, and there was a feral cruelty in him when he finally pierced his opponent’s neck with his word. H was a Terran, after all, and Zarkon wasn’t very friendly with them at the moment.
The entire arena was cheering him when he took off the sword and a sprinkle of blood erupted from the dead body. The same aliens that had captured him and forced him in a deadly match were now his fan. It was sick.
Zarkon looked around, and the audience around him, and he spotted it. He walked a little towards him to check better, but he wasn’t sure to be mistaken. All the stands are uncovered, but there was a special spot with a canopy, dark curtains cover it entirely, and a person sat there in a comfortable armchair.
He didn’t know much about of the Terran Empire worked, but that person was definitely important, more than the others around. With a swift movement, he throws his bloody sword towards the person. The sword flew through the air, and the person didn’t move at all.
The scream of triumph died in Zarkon’s throat has the sword was cut in half, and then to piece rolled on the opposite side and hit the bench. It was a red cloaked figure, now standing next to the dark curtains, a white energy sword in his hand. Zarkon couldn’t see his face, but he has the impression the figure was looking at him with rage.
The person stood up and appeared in the light. He was a broad Terran, with a square jaw and a scar over his nose. The glint of a metal arm caught Zarkon’s eyes, but more of it was the man’s look: bright yellow eyes observed the surrounding, impassible.
The entire arena falls silent, and all the Terran kneeled down at that sigh. All, but the cloaked figure.
“My Emperor! Apologize!”
Sentinels came from all the exits of the arena, and they subdued Zarkon fast, first with electrocutions that made him falling on the ground, then handcuffing both his wrists and ankles.
“We will proceed at the punishment immediately, Emperor Shirogane.”
“No,” the Emperor said. His voice was calm, warm. “I was entertained.”
Zarkon didn’t know if he should be flattened. But at least, he survived.
And surviving became Zarkon’s first priority, but he swore to get revenge on the Emperor.
The prisoners couldn’t tell much about him, just that he was a cruel and strong man, who conquered the entire universe and he lived for many centuries. They knew even less about the cloaked figure, only that he was a warlock extremely loyal to the Emperor.
Zarkon decided it didn’t matter. He would fight, he would survive, and he would become stronger enough to kill them. In the meantime, he tried to make the life of everyone a little less miserable as they’re in the prison.
Everyone respect him, even if all of them died at the end of the day.
Suprisiling, he was a Terran that freed him after almost a year of captivity.
Doctor Hunk was a tall man, with darker skin and with kind eyes, and his skin was sagging as he’d lost a lot of weight in a very short time. Zarkon had met him a couple of time before, so he knew he was one of the only Terrans to not be obnoxious in the prisoners’ regards. But being a decent human being and freeing the Champion of the arena were two different things.
“Why are you helping me?” he asked, as they run towards the hangar.
“I’ve watching you since the first time,” Hunk said. “You’re a leader, and you’re not scared. You’re the person we were looking for, I’m sure of it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t have much time to explain things to you.” Hunk pushed him on the pod. “Follow the coordinates and find the Pistols of Serrano. Find Lance. He’ll know what to do.”
Even with so few information, being free was still more than Zarkon could ask for. He still feared a trap from the Terrans, maybe a strange way of entertainment, but he was outside the cell, and he could work with it.
“What about you?”
Sadness appeared on Hunk’s face. “If Keith will stil consider me a friend, maybe I’ll survive, and we’ll meet again.”
It wasn’t a trap. The Pistols of Serrano knew of his arrival, and welcame Zarkon with hospitality. For the first time in almost a year, Zarkon could have a nice shower, a comfortable bed and decent food.
The head of the Pistols was a Terran named Lance, who had a nice smile and a scar that covered the right part of his face, eyes included. Still, Zarkon had the chance of looking at him shooting, and his aim was incredible.
Lance came to him a week after Zarkon’s arrival at the base.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better.” Zarkon nodded. “Thank you for everything.”
“It’s nothing.” Lance waved his hand in the air. “But now, it’s time for explanations.”
“I was waiting for them since Hunk freed me.”
Sadness appeared on Lance’s face when Hunk was nominated. “Let’s not waste his effort.”
So Lance told Zarkon about Voltron, about how it was the only weapon able to defeat the Terran Emperor and how it worked. He told him about Altea and how it was destroyed, and how the Empire is draining quintessence from the planets in order to survive.
“In those centuries, we Pistols worked hard to find a way to defeat the Empire, and in the meantime, we hid the Lions from Shirogane. Now, it’s the moment to attack,” Lance finished his tale. “In the last years, we looked around to find pilots the Lions would accept. You are one of them.”
“Me?” He was a pilot, sure, but…
“You must pilot the Black Lion and be the leader of Voltron,” Lance continued. “Hunk had observed you in the arena, and he was sure you’re the right person. I understand this may be a little be overwhelming, but the destiny of the universe is in your hands.”
“It’s fine,” Zarkon says. It wasn’t like he could return a normal person, not after what had happened, and more than that, Galra could be in danger too. “I wanted a rematch with the Emperor so bad.” And he told Lance about his first encounter with him
Lance laughed loudly. “Now I understand why Hunk chose you!” Then, his face returned serious. “But, you made a mistake. You shouldn’t have aimed for the Emperor, but for his warlock.”
“The red cloaked figure?”
Lance nodded. “He’s the real source of the Emperor’s powers. And he’s the one we will fight.”
Zarkon met his future comrades and paladins of the Blue, Yellow and Green Lion: Trigel, Blayz and Gyrgan. There was something poetic into coming for different planets, like the entire universe if fighting against the Terrans. Then, together, they reached Arus, where the Castle of Lions were hidden together with the Lions itself.
King Alfor, the father of Voltron’s creation, was sleeping here, waiting for the day he could pilot the Red Lion. With him, slept for centuries Honerva, the greatest alchemist Altea had ever seen.
And the most beautiful woman with the most wonderful and smart eyes Zarkon has ever seen. In the span of one year and a half, Zarkon had met aliens, be taken prisoner, become a Champion, be freed to become a Defender of the Universe, and found the love of his life.
Not bad.
It was Black in the end to tell Zarkon the real story of the Emperor.
The story of the first paladins, and how Lance pilots Blue and Hunk Yellow, and how they were the first defenders.
The story of Admiral Takashi Shirogane, the golden child of Earth, and how he died to protect his planet and the entire universe from the dark entities of the rift.
The story of Keith Koh, his boyfriend, and how he took the power of those dark entities for himself because he couldn’t accept the death of his beloved.
The story of princess Allura, that died protecting Voltron from the entity’s wrath, and how she left his fiancé alone.
“You should have told me,” Zarkon faced Lance.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t talk willingly about Allura. And about what we were once.”
“Why aren’t you piloting Blue anymore?”
“None of us felt worthy anymore. Shiro was our leader, and he was no more.” Then, a sad look in his blue eyes. “I’m not doing it for revenge.”
Zarkon found an old photo in the Castle’s archive, who pictured all the old paladins. Princess Allura was there too, and they looked young and happy. Shirogane’s grey eyes were kind, warm, and Koh was looking at him with a soft, lovingly smile.
Looking at the picture, Zarkon wondered how could be able to do for Honerva’s sake. Maybe using a dark entity to revive her wasn’t so far-fetched.
“Don’t mistake it for love,” Lance advised him. “Shiro is dead. He died centuries ago. What you met it’s only a puppet Keith is controlling, because is so selfish he doomed the entire universe just to pretend Shiro is still with him. When you love someone, at a certain point you have to let her go.”
Lance had told him he wasn’t acted for revenge. The look on his eyes told a different story.
The battle was tough.
Katherine Holt, former Green Paladin and freed from the prison she’d been locked up in the past centuries, had created a system to interrupt the quintessence energy on the Terran main base. In that way, all the ships and the cruiser would be defenseless, easy victims of the resistance’s force, that usually would have been weaker.
That allowed Voltron to take care directly of Emperor Shirogane.
He was a formidable opponent, and if his armor gave him the power to contrast even Voltron, Zarkon was sure that the ability of movements and strategy it was all the Emperor’s own skill. He used to be the Black Paladin once, and it showed. No normal man could contrast Voltron like that, not even with that armor.
Zarkon wished to have meet Shirogane under better circumstances.
Lance had given them some advices about Shirogane’s strategy, and it’s only thanks to that that Voltron managed to survive long enough in the battle, until Katie’s virus started to have effect on Shirogane himself.
The armor lost his power, and Shirogane remained there, in the outside space, completely unarmed in front of Voltron. He still had his sword and his shield, and Zarkon feared it could be enough. But, after all, he was only a bait.
“The Emperor is uncovered!” Zarkon screamed in the comms. “Attack him.”
Immediately, the resistance ships turned their attention from the defenseless Terran army and turned on the Emperor. Voltron backward a little and used the Yellow Lion’s cannon to try and attack Shirogane from distance.
And at that moment, he appeared. From one of the platform of the Terran Main Base, his red cloak waves around his body with the force of his power. White thunders erupts from his finger and while they wavered around to form his sword, they hit some of the nearer resistance ships and destroyed them.
“Blazing sword,” Zarkon whispered, and Alfor on the Red Lion used his bayard to make it appear.
In the middle of the battle, Zarkon recognized Lance’s ship: despite his hatred, he respected the path and rushed towards Shirogane. Koh had his attention on that, and jumped from the platform towards the one Shirogane was in.
His back was completely defenseless. “Now!” In that moment, Voltron attacked.
But the blazing sword never hit Koh: Shirogane had noticed the attack just a moment before and, ignoring completely Lance and the others’ attack, he had moved to interfere between the blazing sword and Koh. Zarkon felt very clear the sound of the armor that broke in the space.
He falls, but Koh was fast to grab him and both of them landed on the platform. Shirogane lied down, and Koh kept crawled his body, his hood fallen to reveal the mass of black hair.
Lance was wrong. Shirogane had protected Koh.
From afar, Zarkon could distinguish the words Koh was saying, a long pile of “no, no, no” as he was losing his lover again. Shirogane lifted a hand to caress Koh’s cheek, and the gesture is intimate, sweet. Shirogane still had the yellow eyes of the terrible Emperor, but his gaze, as he looked back at Koh, is soft, not very different from the photo Zarkon had seen in the Castle of Lions.
Then, Shirogane’s head falls back, and his body went limp. Tears were on Koh’s face as he took some minutes to cry over it. Then, he stood up. Magic concentrated again in the palm of his hand and he looked directly at Voltron, blue eyes flaming with pain and anger.
And Zarkon understood they couln’t win, because they’re fighting the most powerful thing in the universe: love.
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