CHAPTER TWO: Across the Universe (II)
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By the time the creatures got tired of sniffing around the Black Lion, Shiro had limped to a cave and taken refuge there. It was a slim opening and he wiggled his way in best he could, hearing the creatures growl to each other once they spotted him―or detected his scent; he wasn't sure what their weaknesses or capabilities were, which made it all the more terrifying to be stuck in a small, tight space with their claws pawing his only exit, scrabbling and chipping away slowly at the rock.
"Keith, uh, you should probably hurry," Shiro said through the commlink. He wasn't sure how much of the static was blocking their connection.
"l'll be right there—"
A heavy pit grew in Shiro's stomach as he realized 'right there' may not be soon enough. Groaning, he pushed himself onto pathetically shaky legs and his hands searched the rock walls for some kind of ledge or foothold, just to get his balance, when his panicked mind—the snarling creatures were beginning to destroy the meagre boulders blocking their path—remembered his jetpack.
Wisps of fire and smoke came out of the device, but it still sent him shooting upwards. The front of his foot caught the ledge as he angled himself up and out of the narrow crevice, and he tripped and stumbled hard onto the rocky ground above it. One of the creatures growled to the others and he knew it wouldn't be long before they caught up to him.
Endure and survive, he reminded himself, trying to close off his emotions. It had always worked in the gladiator ring. Most of the time, anyway. His arm sputtered as he tried to activate it, before glowing a flickering purple. The damn thing was malfunctioning, but at least it was somewhat working. He pulled himself into a shaky defensive stance, raising his arm as the only weapon he had. He had a feeling paladin armour wouldn't work too well against the creature's claws and tusks.
He could see the banged up form of his Lion, resting her head on her paws as Keith's voice crackled through the commlink. "I'm on my way, Shiro, just hold on a little longer—"
He didn't know if that would be possible as the creatures clawed their way up to the ledge he was on, circling him and snapping their jaws.
He looked hopelessly to the Black Lion. There was no reason for her to respond—she was damaged, had spat him out into space and gone rogue on him once seeing her old paladin, her true paladin. Zarkon.
His stomach squirmed at the thought of it, rather than imminent death.
He had stared death in the eyes many times before, after all. Had narrowly avoided it more times than he could count. He had always thought it would be faster, or agonizingly slow. Getting struck down in the arena in a flash, or watching his opponent loom over him before making the final blow. The seconds ticking by, and him, helpless.
He wouldn't let himself be helpless anymore—if only for the team. For the Paladins and Allura and Coran, who were all counting on him. They were only in this mess after all, because he had lost Allura. And if Keith came with these creatures still prowling around and he got hurt... Shiro wouldn't let anyone else get hurt fixing his mistakes. Not again.
He raised his head, chancing a look over at the Black Lion, hoping to see her eyes glow. A flicker of light. Anything. But there was nothing. Had Zarkon's renewed connection broken her the same way the Galra had broken him? Through his frustration, the shakiness of his hands, he felt pity stir in his chest. It was cold, unlike the pulsing heat of the wound at his side.
The largest creature, even if it had the most obvious ribcage (did they have ribcages? Or was alien biology fundamentally different?), managed to haul itself up onto the ledge. He was running out of time.
Gritting his teeth and momentarily mourning the loss of his helmet―he didn't want to imagine these things eating his brain―Shiro forced himself into a crouch, trying to activate his arm again. The purple light fizzled but maintained some type of glow, and he only hoped it was enough to be a somewhat lethal weapon.
It would have to be enough.
He waited two heartbeats before hurtling himself forwards, dodging a swipe of the creature's claw and then brought his hand up like a dagger. The creature swerved around it, and this time its claw caught him on the side, aggravating the pulsing purple wound as it tossed him with one mighty sweep. Shiro hit the floor hard, and rolled, groaning.
There was nothing but loud static clogging up his commlink, even if he could hear faint, disjointed snippets of what Keith was saying, reassurances that he'd be here soon. But if it was growing worse, than Keith could have even been headed in the wrong direction.
He wouldn't get here in time. No one was coming to save him.
Shiro took a deep breath, and pushed himself onto his knees. He'd always been determined, even in the gladiator ring, that he'd die fighting if he could help it.
The two other creatures joined the first one, circling him like vultures with low growls building in their throats. The biggest one, the first, pounced before he could steady himself. The creature's claws dug into the already weathered plates of his armour, scratching furiously and slowly chipping away tiny flecks of white.
He was going to die here, and he was never going to see his team, or his family again.
Maybe things would have turned out different if he had been better. If he had never let Allura get captured in the first place; if he'd been able to remain in control over the Black Lion, to help the team instead of needing to be rescued, again. Maybe then they would have had enough time to get out once the shield had gone down, before Zarkon's witch had ruined everything.
Before he had ruined everything.
And what kind of paladin was he if he couldn't even keep his Lion from falling into enemy hands? He couldn't find the strength to raise his head one last time to look at Black, not with this bony creature snapping its jaw closer and closer to his throat.
I'm sorry Black.
A roar shattered the air and his eardrums, and then suddenly the creatures were off of him, and he could breathe properly again. Black and a glowing yellow filled his vision, but unlike Haggar's harsh, cruel light, this was softer. More powerful.
Black's belly loomed well above his head, her paws outstretched well on either side of him but close enough to be protective. She was protecting him. She had saved him.
"Shiro―can you hear me? Shiro!"
"Loud and clear, Keith," he said over the commlink. His fellow paladin's voice was still obscured by static, but coming in far more quickly. Keith must have been close. "I'm alright, Black―" The wound in his side pulsed painfully, and his voice broke off.
"I'll be there soon," Keith promised, and this time he kept it, as Shiro saw him coming up over the ridge, over the ledge, until he was only a feet few away. Black slowly backed down, easing back onto her haunches like the giant metallic cat she was, her tail swirled behind her.
Shiro hefted himself into a sitting position, leaning against the curve of Black's side as she settled onto the ground, with a little help from Keith. "We should make camp," he managed, hoping his hand could light up so they could get a fire going.
Keith placed a hand on his arm and lowered it. "You're still hurt, Shiro. I'll go get Red, and we'll see if she's operational. She can help us get a fire going. I'll be right back, okay? Don't go anywhere."
"Where would I go?" he called after him, as Keith pulled on his helmet. It wasn't like his legs were cooperating at the moment, and the wound in his side hurt more than ever. When would that witch stop tormenting him? When would her ruinous, iron grip finally loosen on his life and his body?
He closed his eyes for what only felt like moments when he heard the sound of metal crunching against the ground, and saw Keith leading a limping Red back over the ridge. The Lion managed to spurt out some sparks of fire once he had gathered some rocks that seemed flammable, and created a makeshift camp site.
"Looks like your survival training in the Garrison paid off," said Shiro proudly.
Keith ducked his head as he took a seat. "Or living in the desert for a year did," he said sourly.
Shiro frowned. "I know the Garrison was not a perfect school, nor were you a perfect student, but―"
"They tried to convince me you were dead," Keith snapped. "And I almost believed them too, I just―I didn't have anyone else left."
"Why didn't you go back to my mother? I'm sure she was worried."
"Why would she have been notified that I was expelled? You were listed as my next of kin, and she was listed as yours. The Garrison wouldn't tell me anything about the mission…" Keith frowned. "You were buried in the same graveyard, by the way. They buried your diploma, next to Dad and Uncle Hiro. Aunt Gina has your medals."
Shiro leaned back and closed his eyes. Hiro and Gina. His dead father, his living mother. "They really do think I'm dead, don't they?"
"Yeah. I'm afraid they do." Keith scowled. "The Garrison said the mission failure was your fault, but none of us believed that."
"I know."
"That's why I didn't tell your mom. I had to stay and figure out what I could find, I―"
"I understand, Keith," said Shiro, with a slight smile. "I would have done the same for you. I'm just saying, getting yourself kicked out of the Garrison for behavioural problems and then living in the nearby desert probably wasn't the most thought out route. You don't always think things through."
"Well neither did you, when you decided to attack Zarkon head on."
"I just invaded his base. You were the one who literally attacked him head on. Which is why your Lion is so banged up right now."
"Okay, okay―" Keith held up his hands, frowning again. "Just admit that you're not always the most rational when it comes to Princess Allura."
Shiro's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Keith sighed. "Nothing."
Shiro was silent for a moment, his mind now stuck on the princess. She hadn't left it since being taken captive by the Galra. Since the moment she'd left him, or perhaps it was the other way around: when he'd been forced to leave her. That one last smile she'd given him had haunted him, but so had the look of fear and desperation only moments before. His heart clenched.
"Do you think Allura and the others are okay?" he said finally, when he couldn't fight it anymore.
Keith snorted. "Amazing. You almost died three times today and have a gaping hole in your side and you're worried about Allura?"
Shiro fought the flush rising to his cheeks. "Yes," he said shortly. "And everyone else."
Keith dropped his gaze to the crackling fire, his eyes distant. "Yeah," the Red Paladin said gloomily, although Shiro could tell by the look in his eyes it wasn't the princess he was thinking of. "Me too." He was quiet before he asked, "How long do you think we'll be stuck here?"
"I don't know," Shiro admitted. "But once the lions are operational, we should leave this planet and figure out where we are. Find a less hostile place, find food and water."
"Maybe the others can come rescue us," Keith suggested.
Shiro thought of the creatures, and wondered where they had crawled off too. If they would dare come back, but it was probably better not to find out. "Yeah."
And soon.
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It had only taken a few mile's hike for Elyta to show them the high, red mountains where the Galra ship was anchored. Pods were set into the mountains ledges, with a battleship looming above and casting shadows over the white peaks. Her black wings fanned out on either side of her, as they crept closer to the mountain. Two moons were setting over the horizon, as night slowly left the planet of Hootowling
"I understand that your lions are not operational at the moment," she said, as Lance, Pidge, and Hunk holed themselves away behind a cluster of boulders. "But we don't have the time to waste. Your lions cannot be that powerful, anyway, without wings and swords."
"So, you want us to help you break into a galra ship, why?" said Lance flatly.
Elyta turned her sharp eyes on him, and smiled. "Strength in numbers, blue one. See over there?" She pointed to floating rectangles that were hovering up from the ground, and then docking at the belly of a huge Galra warship. "They are stealing our minerals to create more powerful guns, but the minerals are only powerful when they are mixed with a feather of our wings. That is why they have taken my family and many others prisoner. We must free them."
"Why didn't you get taken?"
Her expression darkened. "I was too strong, and they preyed on the weak, the way they always do."
"We can use our bayards to open up a hole to get into the ship," said Lance.
"Why not just go up hidden in one of the cargo transports?" asked Hunk.
"It might be hard for Elyta to hide her beautiful wings."
The winged woman rolled her eyes. "The ship is large, and they may have different prisoners in different parts of the ship. I do not believe we are the only aliens imprisoned there. I think it is in our best interest. Skinny blue and big yellow, you can sneak up with the cargo. The small green one and I will sneak aboard another way using my," she shot a pointed look at Lance, "powerful wings."
Lance gulped. "Yes ma'am."
"Good." Elyta looked to Pidge, and then nodded. "Let's go."
Pidge reluctantly left Lance and Hunk to their own devices, but knew that they would be fine. They were capable, Hunk mentally and physically strong, and Lance, as much as she would never admit it, could come up with some pretty good plans sometimes, and Hunk knew how to follow his lead (in spite of however much he often didn't want to). But beyond that, they made a good team, as two people who were that incredibly close and in sync with each other, and she knew it was no coincidence that, even forgetting how she'd had to keep her identity a secret, she had never fit with them the same way they fit with each other.
But that was just fine, too. She'd never had many friends. Other kids her age had thought she was weird, or too much of a brainiac. Her best friend growing up had been her brother, and now Matt...
She swallowed hard as she glanced at Elyta. Wanting to rescue your family from the Galra? That was something she could understand all too well.
"So," Pidge cocked one hand on her hip, "what's the―"
Elyta gripped her under each arm, and soared into the air with a great flap of her wings, and Pidge did her best not to scream too loudly.
Flying without a lion was terrifying, and she managed to clamp her mouth shut despite the terror having a tight hold over her heart, as they flew closer towards the ship, around the backend of the curve of one of the mountains, so none of the galra sentries would spot them. Elyta kept her upright as they approached the ship, until Pidge could touch the metal side with her gloved hand, and summoned her bayard to her hand. The green whip glowed as she jammed it into the wall, cutting its way through the metal.
She pushed the metal circle she had cut out through with her feet, and then swung herself inside. She shifted herself into a crouch, bayard in hand, as Elyta squeezed herself and her large leathery wings through the hole. Pidge tilted her head as she mentally activated her commlink, picking up on the boys' signals.
"Lance? Hunk? You there?" she whispered.
"Loud and clear, Pidge," said Lance with a cocky flare, and she could picture the shit-eating grin on his face and rolled her eyes.
"You guys got in okay?" checked Hunk.
"Mmhm. I think we're on the third floor. You?"
"Hunk hacked into a sentry like a boss," Lance said excitedly,
"Only after Lance shot it down like a boss," added Hunk, and there was the sound of them exchanging a quick high-five.
"We're downloading blueprints of the place now," Lance continued. "We'll send them to you over the feed once we got 'em, okay? They're almost done... alright, we're tracking your signal now... You're on the fourth floor, above a storage unit and to your left, one floor up, is the first floor of a prison cell. There's some cells below Hunk and I right now, so―"
"Uh, Lance?" said Hunk, his voice rising in nervousness. "We got company!"
There was the sound of gunfire and blasters, but she knew they'd be alright. Both were pretty good sharpshooters, mostly under Shiro and Allura's guidance during training drills. Hopefully the other paladins and the rest of her team were okay too. She didn't want to forsake one family for the sake of saving another.
"We'll meet you in the bottom hangar when we need to escape," said Pidge, leaving the commlink open in case they had anymore updates, but ignoring the loud connection for the time being, as with a quick flurry of her fingers over the panel of her right arm, she brought up a hologram of the downloaded blueprint plans. If they were going to get prisoners back home, they'd need an actual shuttle of some kind, or a galra ship. They'd worry about not getting shot down by the locals when they came to it.
Elyta moved her weight forwards on a crouch, her wings fluttering behind her as she took out the sword strapped to her back, in between her wings. "Come," she beckoned, "let us go find my people."
They managed to mostly avoid the sentries, Pidge using the blueprints to guess their guard shift and changes as best she could as they crept towards the elevator that would take them to the next floor up. When they did get found, Elyta was more than capable at slicing them to pieces with quick slashes of her sword, before any alarms could be found. Clearly, the galra didn't expect the Winged Ones to fight back with most of their warriors stolen away, their people diminished and devastated.
In a way, Elyta reminded Pidge of Allura. Maybe she and the princess would get along better than she thought, next time she saw her—if she saw her again—and they could talk about something other than peanuts and leaving Voltron.
Elyta cut down the sentries guarding the elevator with a quick punch and wide arc of her sword, and Pidge picked up a dismembered sentry's arm and placed it over the scanner. The doors dinged open and they rushed inside, Elyta shooting the scanner with a quick blast so they couldn't be easily followed.
An alarm suddenly blared, most likely activated by the destruction of the scanner, and galra soldiers charged down the connected hallway. A laser hit the high left corner of the elevator, burning it to a crisp, but the doors shut before they could properly reach the elevator, and Pidge loosed a breath of relief.
"You are brave," said Elyta admirably, "for a small one."
Pidge blinked. "Thank you?"
"The others are more competent than I thought as well."
She frowned a little. "If you thought so lowly of us, then why invite us on this mission?"
"I have heard the stories of Voltron, of your leader, the Champion. I thought at the very least, if you didn't die right away, you would be a good distraction for the galra."
Pidge almost snorted. "How...pragmatic of you."
Elyta smiled widely, looking delighted. "Thank you!"
It seemed to take forever for the elevator to rise, so long Pidge worried the galra had hijacked the controls, but maybe it was just because her heart was racing so fast even as her legs stood still, when the floors finally opened on the fifth floor. They were immediately bombarded by guards, and she found herself wishing for a bayard that could take down more enemies more efficiently, like Hunk and Lance's blasters, but she made due with her whip, sliding underneath and around people's legs and yanking them down by wrapping the whip around their ankles, and yanking them into one another. Elyta was similarly efficient, taking down more sentries with sweeps of her sword and barely breaking a sweat.
They used another sentry's hand to get through the final passcode, and found a hallway full of barred cells, filled to the brim with Winged Ones, their wings cramped and feathered hands clutching at the bars.
"Can you get them out?" Elyta asked, as her people all pushed forward as close to the bars as they could get, peering faces with owlish eyes.
"I need keys, or a code—" said Pidge, looking around. "A key card of some kind." Maybe it had been left behind with the guards outside?
"We can't go back out," Elyta barked, "I can hear the guards outside, we're boxed in."
"Just give me a few minutes to hack the system." Pidge went to the nearest key pad, and plugged in.
Elyta threw her a glare. "Make it a minute, Green Paladin. We don't have time to waste."
Pidge cursed furiously under her breath as she met the first firewall of the system, working to undo it, while Elyta wandered down the hallway, greeting friends and looking for her family. She could hear galra banging on the door keeping them out and knew it was only a matter of time before they broke through.
They were running out of time. She only prayed her fingers could move fast enough, and that the boys were having better luck than she was.
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The castle was unmistakable, Allura realized, staring at it. It looked exactly the way it had in her youth, even more so than it did in the present, smelling of dust and decay and most rooms still untouched or not fully functional. Looming over the field of juniberries was the castle ship in all its glory, and above it were the spiralling sky cities, flat planes of white metal moulded into laboratories and schools so that the ground below could be used for nature and farming and beauty.
Her heart leapt to her throat.
Altea. She was finally home.
"I don't know understand," she mumbled, her eyes filling with tears. "This―this should not be possible. How did this―"
"Haggar must have turned the wormhole into a time warp―intentionally or not, her magic messed it up," said Coran, worriedly stroking his mustache. "I… we really are on Altea, princess. We just have to figure out what time period we're in. The castle's looked the same since my father was a boy. And we'll have to go about this carefully of course, we don't want to mess with time―very dangerous thing, you know―"
She nodded numbly, barely hearing him, but her mind did get snagged on a sharp, prying thought. "And then we go back to the present? Without changing anything?"
Coran approached her tentatively. "We don't know how our presence here—additional presence—may affect the future. If we change something, it may end up changing things for the worse rather than the better. History can be a funny thing, even with good intentions."
Something sharp snapped into place inside her, as she narrowed her eyes. "We can't just stand here and do nothing―"
"Good thing we're not, then." Coran clasped his hands behind his back. "Let's go to the palace, princess. We need to start putting the pieces together."
Allura grumbled under her breath, and followed him away from their castleship to well, the actual castleship in its prime. If they were in the Altea she remembered, the years she had lived there, then perhaps... Her eyes watched Coran's back, and then flickered to the field of juniberries, trying to breathe in the scent before they would have to be memories again. But maybe...
If Coran expected her to not save her people—their people—when they had been given a second chance, than he had another thing coming.
The pathway led to the castle was surprisingly scarce of Alteans, but those that were there were garbed in white armour adorned with the colours of their family houses, with hints of pink for fallen loved ones. Soldiers. She wondered, if this was far back enough before the fall of Altea, if her mother would still be alive. If that was the case, she wouldn't be able to speak with her, as she had been only a child, 100 years old, when her mother had passed on. But she could steal a look, have something more to remember her by than a golden circlet and an empty castle.
The foyer of the palace was swirling with activity, generals and battle strategists and more soldiers. She recognized Thora Wimbleton Smythe standing in a cadet's uniform, who had her brother's same gingery hair and chipper look to her eyes, blue markings curved underneath. Coran nearly stopped short at the sight of his younger sister.
"Thora."
Allura tugged on his arm, pulling him forward before they could be spotted. But she knew one thing for sure, now. They were not far from the fall of Altea. Only a year out, perhaps, before the hundredth day of their third month, in the two-hundred-twenty-thousandth year of the Ancients. The darkest day of Altean history, and a day she had spent most of which locked away with in a cryopod, she thought with some bitterness.
But if Coran was right, they couldn't be spotted, or interact with anyone, until it was absolutely necessary.
They ducked down an adjourning hallway, as Coran sniffled violently, and she patted him gently on the back. "I never got to say goodbye to her," he revealed quietly, and something in her heart broke.
Thora had been the closest thing she'd had to an aunt, a talented Altean woman in her late 400s with a great sense of humour, not unlike her brother. She and Coran had been thick of thieves as children, and she'd been working her way up to a position in the castle before the fall.
"I'm sorry, Coran," she told him. She couldn't find the strength to speak it, but she knew, somewhat, how he had been feeling. Granted, the last time he'd seen Thora had been a happy occasion, at her wedding, rather than a burning battlefield when Allura hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye to her father, but still. She knew how freshly the wound could ache.
Coran shook himself straight by the jacket. "No, no, you're right, princess. We have to focus on the present—er, the past? The future? My grandfather was very interested in the physics of time, but we never thought it would be possible—"
"Focus, Coran."
"Yes, right."
They were walking towards her old room, as if Allura was right, she was always out during this time of day, usually training with the knights of her father's guard in combat of all kinds. Her room would be a safe place to orient herself, and check the Altean tomes for a way home—well, not home, but back to the present, to her paladins. Her lungs turned tight as they rounded a corner, and saw the door to her room up ahead, connected with the hallway of the royal family: her father's room that had once been her parents, a room for Coran as her father's trusted advisor, and her mother's memorial room.
"Daughter?"
Her heart lodged itself in her throat as she found herself face to face with her father. He was swathed in his usual blue cape and white and yellow armour, looking as old as he did in his AI.
"Hello, father," she greeted. Coran was shock still, and Alfor looked at him.
"Are you alright, old friend? You look rather pale."
"F-fine!" Coran forced a laugh that came out more nervous than sincere. "You know me, chipper as always, I was merely speaking with the princess about the—the horrible state of things—"
Alfor's concern melted in something more grim, and serious. "Of course, Coran. I do have a matter I wish to speak with you later about. But for now, leave me with my daughter?"
"Certainly, sire," said Coran, far more solemnly. He looked on the verge of tears, and avoided Allura's eyes when she glanced at him. "I will simply be... elsewhere." He scurried away, and she tried not to frown. Great. Not only when she have to find him later, but she had to make sure she had the right Coran, too.
But for now, she turned her attention to her father. It looked like she would get one last conversation, after all. "Yes Father?"
"Allura." Alfor took her hands, and squeezed them. "My little juniberry, I... am so proud of the woman you have become. Your mother would be as well, you know that, don't you?"
"Yes?" she said slowly. Her father hadn't told her this in the first timeline (although she'd known it as well), so why was he telling her this now? Because she was here, and the opportunity amidst all the chaos had shown itself?
"Whatever comes, we are proud of you." He leaned forward and kissed the centre of her circlet. "Always remember that."
"I will." She felt like crying, but held back tears as he released her hands and stepped away. "I love you, Father."
He smiled at her, and she wanted to remember everything about it: the way his eyes crinkled, the wrinkles lining his face, the slight scruff of his beard. He hadn't smiled at her, at the end of all things. "I love you too, daughter."
It was the third time she had let him go, but it wasn't any easier.
Once she had collected herself, she found Coran in the library. He had often loitered there, fascinated by all the galaxies he hadn't visited and even the ones he had, and it was the place most likely to have the information it needed. It looked just like her castle, but with shining light of one of Altea's suns rather than the artificial light of a programmed day cycle. The rows upon rows of books reached up towards the ceiling in handsome wooden bookshelves, with arm chairs down below, and none of it was covered in dust.
He was bent over some books and she saw his grandfather's name printed as the author along the spine, and stroking his mustache as he read, looking up when he saw her, his expression uneasy. Clearly he didn't know if she was his Allura, or the one who belonged to the past. "Hello princess," he greeted.
"Relax, Coran, it's me. What have you found in regards of going back to the present?"
He gave her a grim look. "You're not going to be happy about it, princess."
She pursed her lips. "I have not been happy in a very long time." She clasped her hands in front of her. "Please, explain."
Coran glanced down at the book, and she saw a picture of a star exploding. "Well, in theory, it goes like this..."
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"And, there!" Pidge allowed herself a quick, triumphant smile as the bars of every cell sank into the floor, and the citizens of Hootowling rushed out of their cells. She could see Elyta embracing two older Winged Ones, with the same golden eyes and black wings that she did, and what looked like a younger brother and sister.
Her gaze snapped away from the happy reunion to the door, as the galra pounded dents into it. They had gotten past the blasted up elevator, but now she needed to find a way out. She tuned into her commlink.
"Hunk? Lance?"
"We're here, Pidge," Hunk responded, breathing hard. "We're heading to the hangar now with a bunch of the Winged Ones. What about you?"
"We're a little preoccupied, but we'll be there soon," she promised. "Elyta, we need a game plan out of here."
She nodded. "Everyone, fly as close as you can to the ceiling. When the Galra come in, we'll drop on them. As soon as you can make your way to the door, flee. The Green Paladin of Voltron will lead you to safety."
Pidge readied her bayard as the Winged Ones all took to the ceiling, as high as they could, hovering in place. Elyta gave her father her sword, and tightly gripped her dagger instead. Pidge tried to steady her breathing, listening to her heartbeat pound in time as the galra broke down the door in heavy blows, until it burst open. They rushed in like a sea wave of guns and metal, purple and red as they fired and shed blood. The Winged Ones dropped down from the ceiling with war cries, all those who could fight taking the place of those who could not, one more elderly alien herding the younger ones towards the door.
Pidge twisted galra up in her whip, dodging blasts and almost getting pinned by one, with their thick, clawed hand, until Elyta knocked them off of her with a powerful kick, swooping down from above. She fought like a demon instead of the angel she so resembled, baring her teeth, her dagger covered up to the hilt in blood.
"Get my brother and sister out of here," she ordered, and Pidge clambered to her feet, locating the two siblings near the elder already herding the children out.
They had the same black hair and golden eyes as their older sister. "You're Elyta's siblings?" she checked, and they nodded, unsure; their parents and sister were still in the battle. She looked at the other fearful eyes of the children; one had had nearly all of their left wing plucked, and her stomach lurched at the blood tipped feathers that remained. "Follow me. I'm going to cut you a path through the galra outside, and get you to safety." She connected to her commlink. "Lance, Hunk, I'm going to need your help up here—get the Winged Ones you have to an some escape pods and get up here!"
"On our way," Lance promised.
She only hoped they could get here fast enough.
She hurtled herself forward into the crowd of oncoming galra, and any Winged One that could followed her lead. She knocked soldier after soldier down, and they grabbed the discarded guns and started mowing down the soldiers that came to take their fallen brethren's place. Her heart leapt to her throat when she heard yelling and more blaster fire, until she saw Hunk and Lance emerging from the galra ranks, who were now being attacked on both sides.
A bunch of the children raced towards Hunk and grabbed onto his arms, and he hoisted a good five up on each arm, swinging as he adjusted to the sudden weight, his bayard disappearing from his hand. "Uh—"
"Get them to the pods," Lance said, still firing. "I'll cover ya!"
Hunk shot him a grateful grin, and hurried away with a bunch more of the children in tow. "C'mon kids, there are more ways to fly than just wings."
Lance and Pidge were not fighting side by side, as more and more of the Winged Ones left the prison cell, carrying Galra guns. Now there were only a dozen or so soldiers left in the prison cells fighting Elyta and her parents, the former having one foot on the threshold of the door.
Pidge's heart dropped when the wall on the far side of the prison suddenly opened to reveal a door, and more Galra rushed in, nearly as many as they had already defeated. It was too many for the few fighters the Paladins had left, as almost every other Winged One was already headed towards the bottom hangar.
Elyta went to step towards them, when her mother looked back at her, both their eyes wide and fearful, but firm.
And Pidge watched, astounded, as Elyta stepped back over the threshold, and shot the scanner. The doors on both side of the hall clanged shut, sealing her parents inside with the soldiers.
"What are you doing?" Pidge shouted, grabbing her arm.
Elyta's eyes are bright as she shook her off. "Let's go. Everyone, to the hangar. We're getting out of here."
She led everyone else down to the hangar, where Hunk was prepping another shuttle; one had already left, the alarms flashing and blaring only growing in volume. As soon as they came running in, he blasted the scanner to keep the doors sealed. "We got everyone?" he checked.
"Yes," said Elyta, her voice sharp. "Load up the rest of my people into a pod. Blue and Green Paladin, help me ready another shuttle for our escape."
They jumped into action, even as Pidge grumbled her breath, and Lance helped her wrench open a panel of the shuttle next to the one Hunk was preparing, so that she could hack into the controls as well. She hooked her arm up into the plug, and started tying. It was run of the mill, as Hunk and Elyta finished loading up his shuttle with all of the remaining Winged Ones, until something caught her eye.
{GUNS: blocked access—safety protocol}
Her fingers flew over the holographic keyboard above her arm. Better to be safe than sorry, right?
{GUNS: operational—achieved access—safety protocol: unlocked}
"Alright, everything should be operational," she called over. There was a rush of heat and wind as the first shuttle lifted into the air, and shot out the exit way, out of a similar loading dock to the one that had cargo. "I gave us access to guns in case we need to fight the Galra off with a distraction, or something."
"Nice work Pidge," said Lance, opening up the shuttle. "Now come on, let's blow this popsicle stand!"
The three paladins and Elyta climbed into the shuttle, and she found since it was more than an escape pod, it really didn't look that different from the flight simulator models back at the Garrison. Lance got into the pilot seat after almost tripping over his own long legs. "Sweet, I'm the pilot, Hunk, you're the engineer in case this rust bucket goes wayside, and Pidge, you'll be our communications specialist. Let the Winged Ones know not to shoot us down?" He grinned. "It's just like back home."
"You mean back home where you crashed our simulator?"
"Oh shut up."
Pidge hooked up herself up to the communications module and started sending out peace signals. With any luck, the Hootowlings would have tech to pick it up and show that they had received it.
The shuttle hurtled out of the hangar, and nearly crashed into a swarm of galra cargo before Lance swerved them out of the way. "Blue's controls are a bit different!" he laughed nervously.
"Well figure it out, 'cause we got company," said Pidge, looking out the windshield. A dozen if not more galra fighters were coming down after them.
"Elyta, man the guys!" said Lance.
Elyta blinked. "Um—"
"Those joystick thing-ys," Hunk added, pointing to things that resembled an upside down bicycle handle bar, with buttons on top.
Elyta gripped them and pressed the button experimentally, grinning when she hit a ship with a fiery blast. "Ooh! Yes, die galra scum!" she shouted with that same wild grin, firing off shot after shot.
Hunk and Lance exchanged a glance. "At least she's enthusiastic," said Hunk, until his expression changed to terror. "Lance, look out!"
"Whoa—!" Lance jerked the controls back to try and slow down the shuttle, before glancing up as Elyta shot down another one of the fighters. "Hunk, Pidge, if we hit certain points in the ship, can we bring it down?"
"You mean like pressure points?" asked Hunk, and he nodded. "Uh, yeah."
"Can you guys show Elyta where they are?"
He and Pidge glanced at each other. "Give us a minute," Hunk requested, hooking his arm up with the system, and opening up a hatch below his chair and fiddling with some wires.
"Make sure you reroute the image projection," Pidge reminded him, and he switched the red and black wires.
"Got it. Try activating it now?"
Pidge hit a button near her screens, and holographic images showed up on the windshield of their shuttle, blue and seemingly floating over certain pressure points in the ship: a curving piece of metal there as adornment, a weaker engine, among other places. Elyta hit each other with only a few misses, and Lance let out a whoop as the ship groaned and started to collapse in on itself.
"Yeah! Go team Voltron!"
"Lance, you need to fly us out of here before the ship crushes us," said Pidge.
"Uh, right..." Lance gulped nervously, but then set his shoulders and clutched the controls tightly.
"I know you can do this, buddy," said Hunk, and Lance loosed a deep breath. His jaw was tight, his eyes steady and focused.
As the great ship above them began to fall, he put the shuttle into overdrive, and the remaining fighters careened as they desperately tried to get away, swooping into their path. He did a series of spins, not unlike how the blue lion could maneuver, as the bottom of the ship tilted and hit the first peak of the closest mountain. A narrow pass was coming up ahead, two ships that had crashed into each other sticking up from the ground, at the tip of a mountain furthest from the crashing ship. The looming shadow blocked out the rising sun.
"Lance we're not gonna make it," hissed Pidge, as their way out grew smaller with every passing second.
"Yes we are," he replied, pushing the speed to the max.
"It's too narrow," said Elyta, owlish eyes wide in alarm.
"Not if I thread the needle."
Pidge frowned at him. Did he forget what happened the last time he'd tried that? In a simulator? "Lance―" She was thrown out of her seat as he turned the entire side of the ship vertically (thank God Hunk was a good crash pillow) and she waited for something to go wrong, for them to lose a wing, for the sound of metal grinding against metal before they were crushed―
It never came. The head of their ship lightly banged into the bottom of one of the fighters sticking upright, and the engine was rattling around due to the firepower being used, but their ship cleared the pass, cleared the falling ship as it came down on top of the mountain with a mighty crash.
Hunk launched himself at Lance, along with Pidge, nearly lifting him up from the pilot seat. "You did it!" Hunk exclaimed, squeezing him before setting him down. "I mean I knew you would, no doubt about it, but jeez, that was kinda close you know—"
Pidge gave him an admiring look. "Not bad, Tailor."
"Ha, yeah!" Lance puffed out his chest importantly. "See? I knew that nickname would catch on." He glanced back at the ruined warship, and looked to Elyta. "Sorry about your mountain, though."
"No matter," said Elyta. "Set us down near the other shuttles, that landed safely?" Lance spied them and turned the ship around, over to that direction. The two shuttles were little black dots near the Hootowling village. Elyta straightened up, and squared her shoulders. "I need to address my people."
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A/N: Next chapter will either be called "Across the Universe (III)" or "The Fall of Altea", although I haven't decided upon which. It will be more Altean centric, as well as some backstory to Hunk, Pidge and Lance's Garrison days. Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and thank you for all your support. If you're interested in knowing more about this fic, please check out my blog for it, known as "voltron-fix-it-fic" on tumblr!
Thank you for reading. I hope to have the next chapter out sooner than this one!