Chapter 1
She was born with stars in her eyes.
Stars in her heart, stars in her soul. That's what her father used to say. She was destined for the stars, and everyone agreed.
Was.
Where'd those stars go?
It was a quick in-and-out. No need for formalities. They had one goal and only one goal. It didn't matter that this ship, this certain ship, had all the information they needed. It didn't matter that the Three were on board. It didn't matter that maybe, maybe, they could've destroyed all of Zarkon's forces there and then.
The only thing that mattered was her.
They missed her. Missed the way she'd cackle at their embarrassment, missed the way she'd snark her way through a situation, missed the way her glasses would shine whenever she adjusted them. Missed the sound of her keyboard clicks late into the night and early into the morning, missed the sound of her laughter intermixed with Hunk's and Lance's and Keith's, missed the sound of her screams of frustration whenever someone tried to touch her stuff.
No one really thought it would end like this.
And no matter how much they tried to look past it, no matter how much they tried to forget, they needed her.
They needed her.
Then one day, Hunk (who'd taken over her duties) trembled at the sight of a pinging bright green dot on one of the maps Pidge, Katie, she had drawn up so long ago. Everything zeroed in on that one point. Nothing else but everything mattered. Everything, everything, everything. A bright green dot against the stars.
Pidge, Katie, she had created so many star maps back then (back when the metal of the castle was fresh and new, back when the smiles were everywhere and anywhere, back when people laughed because they laughed, back when jokes were made just because they were, back when the team still viewed Voltron as hope), spending hours on Green's head, staring up at the stars.
(Coincidentally or not, she began even before she went to space, even before she went to the Garrison, even before Matt and Dad and Shiro disappeared. They were light sketches [eraser dustings, scribbled messages in the margins, faded lines connecting each point], but they were a map of the stars, and that was that.)
The team didn't know she was creating this specific map until-
until-
until-
until-
It was designed using a DNA sample from each of the paladins, including Allura, Coran, and a few of their close allies. The DNA was connected to their lions and, of course, themselves, and could be traced through thirteen hundred galaxies. If someone-
if someone-
if someone went missing, couldn't be found, disappeared, captured wasn't on the radar the team could trace them back. Unless, of course, something happened.
(Something, something, something.)
(Better not think about that right now.)
(Keep it together.)
And there it was.
A bright green dot.
Hunk's voice quavered as he called the rest of the team in. They had all aged in the year or so (they stopped keeping track of time ever since-) they'd been in space. Scars, marks, memories. Written amongst the stars like a tattoo, a brand. Voltron, a symbol of hope!
Was there still hope?
"What are we looking at?" Keith asked, but he knew. He knew. Goddamnit, he knew.
"The map," Hunk replied, staring at the floor. A distant memory of fresh-baked cookies, of spraying green goo, of laughing until you cried. He couldn't remember the last time he baked cookie.
"Th-the map?" Allura whispered. Hunk watched her dig her fingernails into her palm. "Hunk, is it - is it so?"
"Why are we even wasting time talking when we should be acting?" Keith yelled. "We should - we need to get to the lions and go!"
"It's not that simple, Keith," Shiro said, a sigh warping his words. "Believe me, I want to find Katie as soon as I can, but -"
"Stop!" Lance whispered, though it was more of a shout, or a whisper-shout, where words are so powerful they move through you like waves, sucking away at your mind and your will and they may be soft but they spoke and Shiro
stopped.
"Don't say her name like that," he warned. "She's - she's Pidge. She's always been Pidge."
"Her name is Katie," Shiro gently responded. Lance shook his head slowly.
"That was then. This is now. She's Pidge. And we're going to save her. Hunk, are you almost 100% sure that this is her location?"
Hunk tried to open his mouth but only nodded. "This is - this is where she's being held," and he zeroed in on that pinging green dot.
"Oh, stars," Coran murmured, holding his hand to his mouth.
"Jagare," Hunk whispered. "Destroyer."
The ship lived up to its name. The largest in Galra history, housing thousands of soldiers along with the Three. Zarkon didn't have a throne on the ship, the ship was the throne.
"It's - it's been weeks since we last saw her," Keith whispered. "What if -"
"She's Pidge," Lance insisted. "She's strong. Stronger than all of us. She hasn't broken, and she won't."
"Broken… as in giving up our location, or broken as in…?" Allura hoarsely choked out. No one answered.
And so it was a quick in-and-out. No need for formalities. They had one goal and only one goal. It didn't matter that this ship, this certain ship, had all the information they needed. It didn't matter that the Three were on board. It didn't matter that maybe, maybe, they could've destroyed all of Zarkon's forces there and then.
The only thing that mattered was her.
They, ironically or not, used the cloaking device she designed in order to get past the first layer of security. However, in the many moons they've been in space, Galran shields have been upgraded to the max. But somehow… the security was higher than ever - the shields, the patrols, the untold technology.
"The security is more intense than it's ever been," Lance murmured. "Because… of her? Because they have her? They-they wanna keep her, like, make sure no one can get to her?"
"Or it's because of her," Keith replied. What sounded like a growl rumbled deep in his throat.
"What, like they used-used her for…?" Hunk whispered. No one answered.
(Keep it together.)
(Breathe.)
(Almost there.)
The next… what, minutes? Half an hour? Hour? (They stopped keeping track of time ever since-) went by so slow (slow) and so fast (fast). Space was blurred. There were screams, and shouts, and cries and booms and blasts and shots and there were times where they couldn't breathe and times where they couldn't breathe enough and there was fire (fire?) and heat then cold and ice and things hurt but they didn't care they didn't care because they were almost
there.
She was born with stars in her eyes.
Stars in her heart, stars in her soul. That's what her father used to say. She was destined for the stars, and everyone agreed.
Was.
Where'd those stars go?
Suddenly, everything was cold.
It was as if the world had stopped. That time had stopped (did it ever start?). Black waves beating against white sand. A cool rush of air.
Tick, tick.
They found her. Alone, in a cell, in the dark and in the cold Her glasses were gone (missed the way her glasses would shine whenever she adjusted them), and her classic green and white shirt and khaki shorts. Her hair was cut unevenly, caked in dirt and dried blood. She was on her knees, hands tied behind her back. The prisoner rags hung loosely around her skinny (skinnier than before) frame. Lotor held a glowing purple dagger to her throat.
Tick, tick.
"Look who it is," he said, his voice smooth and swift and soft, rolling like time.
(Tick, tick.)
He traced one long claw down her neck and settled at her collarbone, chuckling at her blank expression - blank, but torn by pain and ravaged by heartbreaking secrets.
"I swear to God if you touch her -" Lance growled, but Lotor cut him off with a quick tut, tut.
"You want your little green paladin to live, don't you?" he murmured. Hunk's bayard hummed. "Well, coincidentally or not," (and he sucked in a sharp, hissing breath) - "The Galra do too. She's been… helpful."
"What the hell did you do to her?" Keith asked, his voice low and threatening and she felt a shiver go down her spine and she didn't understand what was happening, what was happening? Because she didn't recognize these people, they weren't her people, they weren't her paladins, they weren't her friends, yet they were, they were, but she didn't know because how could she know and she was just so confused and slow and things were black and things were white and they were so cold, she was so cold, and the world was so dark, and no
she won't talk
she won't tell you where they are
she won't do it
she won't talk
The world erupted into a firestorm.
Everything was so loud and their vision was red because the only thing they really knew, the only thing they really understood, was that she was hurt -
she was hurt -
their Pidge. Their Katie.
She was born with stars in her eyes.
Stars in her heart, stars in her soul. That's what her father used to say. She was destined for the stars, and everyone agreed.
Was.
Where'd those stars go?
Lotor wasn't dead. He wasn't dead, but he was wounded, thanks to Hunk and Keith and Allura and Lance and Shiro. Usually, Coran held them back (or at least tried to) during battles over the comms, holding them back when they couldn't do it themselves. This time he was silent as they let their rage cloud their vision.
Getting out was no problem. Maybe it would've been if it was a different time, a different occasion. But it wasn't. It seemed as if everyone backed away from them, hid from their red fury fueled by Pidge's blood.
She was silent as well when they went to pick her up. She didn't move, just stared at the bloodied and bruised Lotor passed out in the corner. It was only when Lance reached out to grab her arm she started screaming. She started screaming, and screaming, and screaming, and shouting but seemed so eerily quiet all the same, like she was screaming in their heads. She shook her head and mumbled nonsense (no, no, she won't talk, she won't talk) and they didn't understand.
Shiro carried her limp in his arms, softly weeping at her every jerk and whimper of protest. Who knew what she was thinking, the thoughts running through her head.
"It's going to be okay, Katie," he said, so softly he didn't think she could hear him. But he kept repeating it. "It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay. We've got you. Matt's waiting for you, Katie. He's been searching for months. We all have. You're going to be okay."
On the ride back with Shiro she continued to repeat she won't talk, she won't talk, they can't make her talk. Mumblings turned to cries turned to splitting screams of horror.
"I can't - I can't listen to this," Lance breathed out, his voice cracking, and his comms bleeped off.
"Me neither," Hunk groaned, and he was gone, too.
That left Shiro, Allura, and Keith, all silent - listening, listening, listening to Pidge's spits of anger and protest.
When they arrived back at the Castle of Lions, Shiro closed his eyes against her shrieking as he scooped her up in his arms, closed his eyes against the pounding of her fists on his chest, against her I won't go back there! I won't go back there! and he didn't understand, he didn't understand.
Coran and Matt sprinted into the Hangar, Matt calling Pidge's name and Coran towing a stretcher right behind. In return, Pidge's screams only grew louder and louder.
"No! No! I won't go back there! I won't! You can't make me!"
Matt let out a choked cry and collapsed onto the ground, covering his ears with his hands and shutting his eyes tight. "Katie, Katie, Katie," he mumbled, "Imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsososorry."
They all sucked in their breath as Allura forced the armor off of her, exposing her bare arms and legs and stomach.
Scars like stars speckled across her skin.