Summary: He was born Keithek, with purple hair and yellow eyes and bright red markings the color of blood. (Galra!Altean!Keith AU)
Rating: T for canon-typical violence
Notes: Ha, well... at least I didn't talk about this on Tumblr and then end up not finishing it for months like Desert Gold? This is quite a bit shorter, admittedly, but the two other planned chapters will be longer than the first. I think. No warnings that I can think of... though, watch out for angst. There's going to be a lot of that soon. ^.^
Chapter 1: Little Warrior
He was born Keithek, with purple hair and yellow eyes and bright red markings the color of blood.
"You know," his mother said, exhausted but happy as she cradled him in her arms, "apparently, ancient Alteans used to believe that the color of your eye-markings represented certain personality traits. Red was the color of battle, signifying that they would become great warriors."
"Really?" his father laughed. "That's quite fitting. You know, in Old Galran, the name Keithek means 'warrior'. Or, to be more exact, 'one who fights'."
"Let's hope he lives up to it," his mother sighed, "especially in these times. My people may have been peaceful diplomats once, but– well, no more. Now, we must fight if we are to survive." She sighed again. "Yes, let's hope."
"Let's hope," his father echoed, and held his family close.
From almost the moment he could walk, Keithek's father taught him how to fight.
"Thace," his mother said, frowning, the day his father showed him the fasted way to disable a Galra soldier, "don't you think he's a bit young for that?"
"Yes," Thace admitted, "but he has to know. I wish he didn't, but Zarkon isn't getting any weaker." He paused, looking contrite. "I'm sorry, Gracea. I just want him to have the best chance possible."
Gracea thought for a long moment, coming to terms with that logic. "Well," she informed him, "if that's the case, then tomorrow I'll teach him how to fly."
Keithek's father didn't always live with Keithek and his mother. In fact, his father was rarely home, and whenever he came he could never stay for too long. Keithek didn't know why things were like that, only that they were, and that was all that he'd ever known.
"Mom?" he asked her one day as the two of them watched Thace's ship disappear into the sky, "where's Dad going?"
Gracea hesitated before replying, as if she was carefully choosing each word to use in her answer. "Your father," she told Keithek, "has a very special job. He's working to make the entire universe a better place. But it's a really hard job, since the universe is a big place, so it keeps him very busy. He's really important."
"Oh," Keithek said, and felt a little better. "That's good."
His mother smiled. "Yes, it definitely is."
Keithek managed to turn his skin purple on his first try.
"Look, Mom!" he cried, peering at himself in the mirror. "I look just like Dad!"
His mother laughed. "That you do, little warrior," she said affectionately, ruffling his hair. "Now, can you make yourself look even more like him? His ears are different than yours, remember."
Keithek concentrated. Slowly, very slowly, his pointed ears grew larger, migrated a little higher up his head, and half-blended with his hair. It wasn't perfect, not quite, but decent for a beginner. Maybe passable as a disguise, if nobody looked too closely.
All in all, his mother was pleased.
"Good job!" she praised. "Let's try a few other species now. Can you do Altean?"
"Sure!" In another few moments, his ears migrated back down and his eyes changed color, gaining purple pupils with dark blue irises and white sclera. His skin returned to its natural brown, red markings under his eyes, and his tiny fangs and claws transformed into fingernails and blunted teeth.
"Oh," his mother sighed, "you look just like your grandmother."
Keithek blinked up at her, somewhat nonplussed. He'd never met either set of grandparents, them all having died before he was born. "Huh?"
"She had red eye-markings like yours," his mother explained, smiling with nostalgia. "And your face– it looks a lot like her. Did you know that she was the one who taught me that red eye-markings represented warriors? She was a fighter pilot; taught me everything that I'm teaching you."
"Really? That's so cool," Keithek breathed.
His mother grinned and tapped him on the nose. "It is, isn't it. So, work hard, and make our family proud."
Keithek beamed. "I will!"
"Good. And maybe next week, after you've got this down, I'll teach you how you can use this in a fight."
"Really?! Cool!"
The next time Keithek's father came home, he gave Keithek a dagger.
"These symbols," he explained to Keithek, who handled to blade with equal parts caution and awe, "are the emblems of your mother and I's families. This one, here," he pointed to a jagged design outlined in the dagger's hilt, "was the Galra symbol before the empire. And this one, here," he pointed to the second design, the first's opposite in that it was all flowing lines and elegant curves, "was the symbol of Altea. Your mother's home planet, before it was lost."
Keithek's mother nodded. "This is a big responsibility," she told him, stern. "Your father and I talked for a long time about this, and you have to promise us that you'll be careful with it. This is a weapon, not a toy." She paused, letting that sinking it. "We can take it away if we have to. But we want to trust you. Okay, Keithek?"
"Yes!" he assured his parents, eager.
"Good." His mother smiled. "Now, these symbols are dangerous to show to the rest of the universe, so you have to keep them covered at all times. Here, let me show you." She borrowed the dagger, pulling a cloth sleeve over the symbols to hide them from view before handing it back.
Keithek was a little disappointed, but understood. From then on, he always kept the dagger's hilt covered, only baring it to look at the engravings, trace them with his fingers, and… wonder.
What would things have been like, before the Empire?
The story of Voltron, Defender of the Universe and the greatest weapon ever created, had always been one of Keithek's favorites.
His mother told it so well, too. Ten thousand and five hundred years ago, she would always start, sitting on Keithek's bed, all the civilized planets in the universe decided to work together and build the greatest weapon of them all: five great mechanical lions, who would all combine to form the giant Voltron.
Leading the project, she would continue, were two great allies: Altea and Galra. The five lions were even based on the five Guardians of Altean myth, did you know that?
Keithek did know that, but he would always say that he didn't. Really, Mom? That's so cool!
It is, isn't it? she would laugh, carding her fingers through his hair. So. The planets all worked together to build Voltron, and when the time came, they had to choose five Paladins to pilot him. They were the best pilots the universe had to offer. Strong, noble, brave. Each lion and their Paladin had different traits that all worked together to make something greater than the sum of their parts.
His mother would continue to describe the five lions, pausing every so often for Keithek to offer up his own comments. He had always liked the Red Lion best, awed by her fierce nature and strength. And then, the story would continue, as his mother regaled him with tales of Voltron traveling from system to system helping those in need.
But then, as always, things would come to an end.
Ten thousand years ago, the newly crowned Emperor of the Galra became greedy for power, she would murmur, tone dipping low and sinister. He plotted behind the backs of the other Paladins and, when they had let their guards down, he struck– tearing Voltron apart from the inside, and plunging the universe into all-out war.
King Alfor of Altea scattered the Voltron lions to keep them out of the Emperor's hands. To this day, nobody knows where they are. Voltron, many thought, was lost forever.
Except. There is always hope, little warrior. For it is said that some day, when the time is right, five new Paladins will arise and call back the lions from their slumber. Five new Paladins will resurrect Voltron once more, and they will bring peace back to us all.
Ten thousand years ago, Voltron fell, she said, but someday, he will return.
"This is fun!" Keithek laughed, taking the ship in a wide turn. His mother laughed with him from the copilot's seat, bright and joyful and happy.
Maybe it made him a mama's boy, but Keithek wanted his mother to laugh like that more often. She had been so worried as of late, her and his father both. They thought he couldn't hear them whispering to each other sometimes but he could; he may have been only five but he wasn't stupid. He knew that something was going on, something bad, and if it was making all the of adults nervous than it was something big too.
"Remember, keep the nose up when you land," Keithek's mother coached. "Gentle, gentle… good!"
Keithek grinned, the ship only jolting slightly as it touched down. It didn't even need any help as he powered off all the systems, unstrapped himself from his harness, and climbed out the open hatch. He was five already and not a baby anymore; soon, his mother might even take the training limits off the ship.
Keithek resolved to bring it up later.
Except, after they had gotten back to their rooms… Keithek's mother received a call that made her face blanch. A moment later, the base's alarms went off and a voice from the PA system urged everyone to evacuate.
"This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill," the voice said amidst blaring alarms.
"Mom? What's happening?" Keithek was scared by the abrupt change in situation, but forced himself to stay calm. Panic, he had always been taught, was his worst enemy in a dangerous situation. And he was pretty sure that this definitely counted as dangerous.
"Grab your special bag, little warrior. Remember, the one that we packed for you? And take anything you want that you can carry; we're not coming back," his mother ordered. She sounded stressed and stern as she moved through their quarters, the complete opposite of her normally kind disposition. Something in her tone told Keithek that she would brook no argument.
Keithek obeyed, fear curdling tight in his gut. He rushed to his room and grabbed his bag of essentials, including his dagger. Beyond that… there really wasn't much else, and none of it was anything that he couldn't do without.
"Come on," his mother said, hurrying into his room. She slung his pack over one shoulder and scooped him up, rushing out the door with Keithek clinging on as if his life depended on it.
They joined the flood of countless others in the halls, all fleeing for the escape pods and ships. "Zarkon's found us!" Keithek saw someone yell into a communicator as they sprinted by. "You can't come here–"
Keithek whimpered. Zarkon. He'd heard that name before, spoken in hushed voices by his parents during their serious adult-only conversations. He knew that Zarkon was bad, very bad, and if Zarkon had discovered them then they were in big trouble.
When the two of them got to their ship, Keithek was strapped in and his mother went through the fastest pre-flight check he had ever seen. Even then they were almost too slow, and just as they blasted from the planet's surface a fleet of Galra ships descended with weapons firing.
"Hang on!" Keithek's mother shouted, throwing their ship into evasive maneuvers. Below them, the base– the only home that Keithek had ever lived in –shuddered under the assault. Its shields flickered with every bomb, people still spilling out, and the air grew thick with ships both fighting and fleeing.
Keithek yelped when the ship dropped into a swooping dive. Gravity tugged at them with hungry claws as they pulled up, Keithek saw his mother hit some buttons that he'd never been allowed to touch and then–
They burst out of the planet's atmosphere and straight into a Galra fleet.
Keithek's mother swore. Keithek only stared, horror making him sick to his stomach. "Mom?"
She took a breath. "...It'll be okay, my little warrior. We are strong, and we will live." Keithek saw his mother's hands tighten on the controls, something hard and resolute settling across her like armor. "Trust me."
All around them, other ships fell into the same trap. The Galra fleet opened fire. Some were reduced to scrap, tumbling away into empty space or falling back into the planet's atmosphere to burn. Others, quicker to react, survived– but rarely unscathed.
His mother gritted her teeth, narrowed her eyes, and flew.
The next few minutes were a blur. Keithek registered explosions, dizzying twists and turns and spirals, darkness lit up with laser blasts and brilliant lights and vivid destruction. Their ship was small and slight, nimble and darting and too fast to catch right up until they weren't.
Keithek screamed as their craft was slammed sideways, one wing torn clean off, he heard his mother shouting they weren't stabilizing only spinning wildly out of control and–
When he woke up, his mother was pulling him out of the wreckage of their ship. She looked exhausted; soot smeared on her face and a gash across her cheek but she was there, she was alive, his mother was there so everything would be okay.
"You see," she whispered to him, brushing back his hair with a gentle touch, "I told you that we would live."
Keithek's throat was too tight for him to reply, so all he did was nod and then cling to her as tightly as he could.
"Where are we?" he asked an undeterminable amount of time later. His mother had, after inspecting the ship's remains and declaring it a lost cause taken them both to search for shelter. Keithek observed this unfamiliar planet's surface with part curiosity and part trepidation, still carried in his mother's arms.
She sighed, looking up at strange stars in a strange sky. "I don't know, little warrior," she told him. "But, wherever it is, I have a feeling that we might be here for a long time."
(Far, far away, days later at the new resistance base:
"Please," Thace asked, desperate, "has anyone seen them? My wife, Gracea, and my son, Keithek? Gracea is Altean; she has black hair and purple eyes and dark pink eye-markings. Keithek is only five, he has purple hair and yellow eyes and bright red eye-markings. Please, has anyone seen them?"
Nobody answered. Sympathetic gazes slid away, heads shoot, and not a single person knew where they were.
Well. Not until a pilot, Gracea's closest friend and Keithek's adopted aunt, approached.
"I'm sorry," she began, and Thace's heart stuttered with dread, "but their ship… I saw them get hit, their left wing was completely gone and they flew into deep space. The uncivilized territories."
Thace stared at her, a dull roaring in his ears that wouldn't go away. "No. No, that can't be right, they can't be–" he couldn't bring himself to finish.
"I'm sorry," the pilot said again, clasping his shoulder in comfort. She looked close to tears, eyes suspiciously bright, and for several long moments they stood together in silence.
Thace felt himself shatter into a million pieces.)