Home Is Where The Heart Is

by 07bumblebee07

Lance knows he has to be stronger, for the sake of everyone that is counting on him and the team to win the war. Easier said than done when they don't have the Red Lion, who is trapped on a Galra Battlecruiser. Lance will do anything to prove he is meant to be a Paladin. He'll get Red back, even if he has to go it alone. Klance, Langst, Self-harm, Swearing, Violence

2. Chapter 2

TWO

The boy's patience was wearing thin.
Too many days remained the same, too many like the one that came before, identical to the one that was sure to follow, with no end in sight to this damning cycle. He once thought himself like the mountains; constant and unmoving.
But rain, over time, weathers away the mountain stone, just as time aboard the ship wears at Keith's his patience and resilience to the interminable cycle. He can feel the push is strong today, as he stands behind the ship's helm; a notion always unappealing, and as repulsive as it was to the idea of giving it all up.
Hypocritical in standing, but for good reason.

Commander Keith, legionnaire to Zarkon and the Galran empire, stood at the Bridge of his battlecruiser and stared out at the untamed, unruly space that lay before him, wishing he was somewhere, anywhere, but here. Not here, in space, but here in the position he stood as part of the Galra force sweeping across the Universe leaving only death and destruction in its wake. Yet, the boy knew why he remained.

It was for the freedom this position brought him.

Not for fame, not for glory, nor for the sake of his Emperor and the corrupt dictatorship he controlled. The very same that brainwashed the populace into believing the Galra were some great race, destined to rule everyone, everything, for all eternity. A childish thought.
It was a wonder how Keith's patience hadn't snapped already.

"Corrlux."

Keith turned at his title, his attention drawn by a lower ranking soldier who addressed him in native tongue – respectfully – and stood waiting for permission to speak. He was frozen in salute and would remain that way until the Commander acknowledged him.
Not particularly focused on anything else, and hoping for a break in the boredom that was dulling Keith's mind, he allowed the soldier to speak, a slight wave of his hand motioning for him to continue, before the Commander turned back to the stars. He reminded himself to keep his expression lack and not draw focus to the irritation that shifted under his skin. The men that he commanded knew he was quick to temper and knew how ruthless his iron fist could be, should they test his waning patience.
Today was certainly one that saw Keith quicker to bite than usual. It was becoming common now, with the stress of his plans weighing on his mind, urging the instances to grow frequent in nature. But Keith couldn't let the crew think something was amiss—

"Sir, Commander Thrigg has called upon you for your council."

But then… But then anger always kept the crew from overstepping their mark. The fear of his retaliation kept the rest of them from questioning his commands.
Aboard his cruiser, Keith's anger kept order.

"He called upon me?"
Keith's voice was cold, the bite of a winter-chill and as suffocating as the void of space. In rage his eyes were as black as a starless sky, his voice steel on ice and bone, with no warning to the limits of his anger. He had already berated another soldier just this morning because Keith didn't care to stop himself. Now would allow him to remind his crew of his temper, and remind them to keep their distance and silly petty questions to themselves.

"Well Soldier? You bring me news then refuse to speak. Need I help you loosen your tongue?" The steadiness of his threat brought fear to the face of the soldier who had unwillingly angered the Commander, who had once again turned from the outreach of stars. He faced the soldier and the crew of the Bridge who deliberately kept their eyes down and their faces blank, as not to incur the wrath of their Corrlux. Not like the fool that stood within reach of his blade.

"No sir, I- I'm sorry sir, it's just that I—"
"So, not only do you have nothing else to tell me, you proceed to waste my time with your babbling?"
"N-no sir, that is not— What I mean to say is—"
"Spit it out!"

Perhaps Keith's anger was getting the better of him. The Galran soldier looked positively terrified. That might not bode well if important messages need to be relayed and the entire crew were too scared to pass them across for fear of lashings.

"So Thrigg hailed us. What is his request?"
"Commander Thrigg's fleet has entered the Dwale System, near the cloud nebula. He requests to speak with you."
"Concerning…?"
"S-sir?" The soldier didn't have an answer to Keith's question, turning to anyone for help who might know what it was he was meant to say. No one came to his aid.

"Eyes on me Soldier. You're talking to me, so look at me." The grunt did as he was told. Keith ignored the trembling in his boots. "Did you think to ask Commander Thrigg what it was he wanted my council on? Did you neglect to remember we are on an important mission from Emperor Zarkon, who asked me personally to undertake such an invaluable task."
Keith stood tall, despite being shorter than most of the Galra present. He had never let such a thing inhibit him, nor his feelings – even if his anger was harder to control.
Time had taken pity from his mind, allowing words to be thrown like knives, clear and precise, not to hurt, but to frighten the weak kittens back from the jaws of the beast.

"Go and ask him. If it's nothing more than a friendly chat then tell him that I disrespectfully decline."
The soldier nodded, the quaking in his boots joined by the wavering of his tongue. "Vrepit Sa."
"Vrepit Sa," Keith repeated, words as cold and threatening as any threat he could think of. Those gathered on the Bridge winced from memory of the last to anger the Commander, and the final words he spoke before cutting the soldier down where he stood. To save themselves from gaining his attention, they busied themselves with their tasks on the consoles, pulling up screens to monitoring the surroundings and the status of the fleet.
The Corrlux rarely disturbed anyone who was putting their efforts to use.

Granted silence and a moment for peace once more, Keith turned back to the stars and the path that lay ahead of them, away from Everall and Galran Central Command.
The fleet was travelling fast, but conservicely so, maintaining a level of dissonance from what lay around them. They didn't chase prey that stumbled upon their path, nor did they seek out civilisations to capture on planets that they passed.
The fleet kept to its course and would remain that way, as per Corrlux's orders. The only fault to their pattern was when they entertained the few whims of Captains, Commanders and Fleet Admirals that called upon them with questions and requests. To curry favour with them kept Keith's crew well informed with current affairs, and let them hold onto the disguise that he had bled into the crew until they believed his lies.

Of course they were lies.

As Keith stood as Commander to the one and only fleet in the Empire in possession of a Lion of Voltron, why would Zarkon ask for it, not to be brought to him, but sent far away? Why would such a thing, so obvious and so perceivable to be false, be simplistic in fooling the crew?
Because they were mindless slaves, that's why. Slaves and nothing more, with only the want to serve a merciless and insane ruler. Brainwashed. Programmed like robots to think and feel or not at all. They were given their instructions and did what was expected of them. If not?
Well, they'd incur the wrath of their Corrlux for one.

Keith was unlike his Kin. Growing up, he always felt that the things that had been done was wrong. He didn't care if it was in the name of the Galra race or in the name of the Empire, it was wrong.
He had been one of very few to be able to think for himself, able to feel more than anger, yet it was anger that was the whip that lashed, the key to the chains carved from fear and the only thing his Kin had every truly known. Pity was a wasted emotion.
Trust was volatile and poisonous, as much as it was a double-edged blade. He had no friends, no allies, no one to stand beside him.
Yet, Keith continued to risk his life and defy Zarkon, Emperor of the Galra for the sake of wanting to destroy what was fundamentally wrong.
How could no one else see? How could no one else understand that this couldn't go on, this utter annihilation couldn't continue, for soon there would be nothing left.

Keith's plan hadn't always been to stand as Commander amongst the Galran Army. When he was young, he would lash out and fight the authority that told him Zarkon was the true King to all and it would be an honour to serve him. An honour my ass.
But no matter how he struck out, defied the elders and cursed the Emperor's name, it had no effect on all that surrounded him. It wasn't until the Galran kit heard the name of the ghost's that had long-since haunted Zarkon's reign.

Marmora.

Asking of them had more effect than any plight Keith had ever brought upon his peers. The retaliation to such a name was the light in the dark that showed Keith the path to take.
But finding the Marmora had been impossible.

Not one willing to accept defeat, Keith sought a way to show his usefulness to them, knowing they were always watching. He showed his strength as so they would employ him in their ranks. Years of hard work, of kissing feet and bowing, of saluting and training and Keith was finally a Commander. Finally, in control of his own fleet, and one that had recovered the Red Lion no less, Keith was finally in a position of power to help the Ghosts of the Blade.
But still they remained elusive; smoke in the air that he could not grasp—

"Commander, Commander!"

The Galran was pulled from his thoughts, his face held a confused look on it, almost as if he had forgotten his surroundings for a moment. Before another could detect the slip in his mask, Keith pulled it firmly over his features, rounding on the who that had broken his train of thought. It was a soldier, different to the one before, hurrying forward with urgency and an underlying fear that remained from watching his Corrlux's earlier altercationwith the messenger.

"This better be good, soldier—"
"Corrlux, enemy ships have been spotted on approach, starboard to our position. Sir, it's the Voltron Lion."

Voltron? Here? But how?
Keith had made sure to take every necessary course of action to assure that none but his crew and only his crew knew of their quarry. They wouldn't tattle; the fear of Keith's whip too great, the fear of damaging Zarkon's mission too much to risk for idle gossip.

But then again, their foe was Voltron. They were a group of rash and unpredictable fighters, with abilities yet to be determined by the Galra force, even with the few times their paths had already crossed. Even if Keith had planned for every possible outcome, it was without a doubt that the Paladin's would do something unexpected, and turn the tide in their favour.

Now they came for him and the Red Lion in his possession.
To face them now in battle was not a child's game Keith wished to play. He had put enough effort into concealing his plans from his "comrade's ships." He wouldn't allow this expected, yet abrupt ambush, to mean anything more to him other than a minor inconvenience.

But, what if this wasn't an inconvenience, but a gift from the gods?
Rather than delivering the Red Lion to the Marmora; the only ally Keith had ever considered, wasn't Voltron and its team of renegade Human's just as much a friend in this war. Not friend per say, but their goal was the same and the methods practically identical. "Hack and slash" until Zarkon's reach was stunted and could no longer grow to infect the universe.

Yet Keith hadn't thought of Voltron, because he barely knew anything of them, other than their knack for causing chaos and their unpredictability. No one would've expected the stir they caused; the Humans that had appeared out of nowhere, hailing from some unnamed, unexplored back-water planet in the Quar-Klux system, where little was known about the savage civilisations that still remained unaware of the other life that lived in their Galaxy.

It was the Galra's pride that lay fault to their lack of knowledge when it came to these fur-less, violent beings. Never one for the purpose of seeking familiarity of other races, the Galra only ever cared for themselves. Perhaps ten thousand years ago, when Alfor and Zarkon were aligned as Paladins, then things were different. But war changed that.

Isn't change the only constant that everyone is truly guaranteed?

Voltron could attest to that.
Simply their resurrection and that now they stood against Zarkon, rather than with him. Voltron wouldn't side with Zarkon, clear in the path they had forged through the stars; the unrelenting force they amassed as they attacked every Galra base, every ship, every patrol with vengeance, as if they were the grieving survivors to a forgotten, desolate world.
Their fury rivalled that of the Galra's and that in itself showed proof of them to be a worthy adversary in this endless war.

So what of an alliance? Not between the Galra and Voltron, but with the Paladins and Keith himself. If he offered them the Red Lion as a sign that he was on their side, would they allow him to join them and destroy the Galra before the war was lost?

"Corrlux, what are your orders?"

The crew were waiting on him, thinking his silence in legion to his mind planning a strategy of counter-attack. But no, Keith's mind remained upon mutiny and the risk of such a plan of action.
He couldn't side with Voltron, here, now. They were to engage in battle and there was no way for Keith to reach out to them to halt the attack without—

No, no! What was he saying?
Give Voltron the Red Lion? That was insane! The very reason Keith had hunted it down and stole it right from under the Emperor's nose was to hide it.
Sure, handing the weapon over to Voltron would make them more powerful in their fight against Zarkon, but they were just a few against the many millions of Galran soldiers, with their infinite ships and rising numbers in the form of battle-ready androids and detection drones.
Few against many was folly, and handing over the Red Lion for that little burst of strength was as good as Keith hand-wrapping the war machine and delivering it to Zarkon's throne room himself. The exact opposite of Keith's plan.

No, Voltron was not strong enough to take on the Empire, even with their arsenal strengthened by the Red Lion. Even if they fell, with four and not five, Keith would be far enough from Zarkon before he realised his "Commander's" intention. And Keith would keep on going.
He just had to figure out how to pilot the beast. It wasn't impossible for him, but still countless nights spent hounding away in his mind for the answer had left him tired and with more questions than answers. The Lion had no weakness to its forcefield, and no weapon, no matter how great, would let Keith penetrate it. But the boy was anything if not stubborn and he wouldn't let the Lion best him. He was saving it from Zarkon, couldn't it understand? It needed him as much as he needed it. He needed to find a way.

Keith wouldn't fight Voltron.
Not with the full force of the fleet. Even if victory was but a faint hope, he wouldn't want to leave any lasting damage that would wipe them out sooner. Even if not allies with Keith, they are still a thorn to Zarkon and a much-needed distraction that would keep the Emperor's eye from his own schemes.

And with a plan in action, Keith turned to the soldiers awaiting orders.

"Send orders to the forward ships. I want all Djalg targeting the Lions before they get close, the cruisers with their fire aimed on the Altean Craft that accompanies them."
"Xardin," he said, turning to his second-in-command, the younger replying with a salute as he was called. "Send orders to Pelaxon the forward ship. Have him take control of the battle. The rest of the ships will escort this battle cruiser away from the fire fight. We cannot have Voltron take the Lion. Now go: Myzen!"

The soldiers scrambled at the fleet Commander's orders, the alarms and lights joining the fray as the entire ship was warned of the incoming enemy, not yet in visual-sight, but detected on the long-range scanners.
Soldiers scrambled to their fighter ships, the holo-screen on the main deck lighting up with a view of the Djalg occupying the space between the cruisers, taking formation under the orders from the officers of the ships staying to fight.

Keith turned from his place at the window, returning to his chair at the helm, addressing the pilot who stood to his right. "Take us out of here, before Voltron is on top of us."

"Yes Corrlux. As you order."

The soldier complied with his Commander's instructions, making haste to instruct the engines to maximum power, their positions facing forward-starboard to speed up their attempt to turn and change their current course before Voltron could intercept.
"Four signatures, closing in fast!"
"Do not lose your heads. With Pelax diverting their attention, we will be free to pull back."
"But the Galra do not retreat—"
"Are you questioning a direct order, Xardin?" Keith's voice carried clear through the chaos, the threat clear without him having to suggest as such. His second in-command averted his eyes, a bow of his head in apology. "No Sir, just querying as to the nature of our strategy."
"You need not bother. Focus only on adhering to my orders and leave the thinking to me. Vrepit Sa."
"Vrepit Sa."

The dismissal was followed by a call of order, and the previously worrying soldiers began to calm as the forward ships pulled away from the Commander's Battlecruiser. With the second engines kicking in with another burst of energy, the battleship veered portside, causing the other ships surround it to scatter in hopes of not being knocked aside. They were quick to assemble themselves in formation once again, half of the guarding Djalg sent to bolster the attack force of the forward fleet.
Only two battle supports and a half-legion of solo-fighters remained with the Commander's vessel. The navigations took control of the ship's course, calculating the route to take them towards the Leuen System; but, known for its unpredictable space-storms and the fluctuating orbit of Venris, the idea of their route sent a flurry of worry throughout the crew.

"Commander, the navigation is set to enter a red zone. The solar flare from Leuen's star has disrupted the balance of Venris. The planet's core is too volatile. We cannot approach—"
"I've given my orders, now follow them. Our ship can withstand the force of the planet's fluctuations, the Paladin's will not. They will be forced to travel around, giving us time to join up with the fleet that patrols that far side, near the mining sectors."
"But what of Pelax? You've sent his to his doom—"
"He is a Galra soldier that knows the law of battle, soldier. Just like every Galra soldier that serves Zarkon and carries his name where they walk, Pelax is prepared to lay down his life for the sake of victory."
"But sir, Voltron—"
Keith turned on the soldier with frustration, the fear of his plans crumbling around him fanning the flames in his chest. "Voltron has yet to be defeated by any Galra fleet. But if we stood our ground and demanded battle, we too would be lost. I would lay down my life for Zarkon, but I know doing so would lose the Red Lion, and it would risk the reign our Emperor has now. This is for the sake of the Empire." He closed the distance in three deliberate strides, his nose inches from the Galran's who dared not pull away.

"If you are a coward who will not lay down their life, then you're not truly Galra."
The words weren't his, but of the many teachers and scholars that thought the whip would break Keith's will, that his resilience was just the creation of orphaned by the war. They weren't words he had ever believed, but he knew the lesser minded drones of his kin did, and it was these words that pulled emotion from the soldier, a firm salute masking the fear he felt at angering his Corrlux.

"I am true Galran. I stand for the Empire and fight for Emperor Zarkon."
"Then set the course and do not question me again."
"Yes Sir. Vrepit Sa." It was enough for the entire crew to focus on their duties, although many knew not to question Keith's orders. They simply had to prepare themselves for the unknown that lay before them.

"Corrlux, we don't need to retreat. We're strong, we can fight." Apparently not all knew when to hold their tongue.

The Commander turned, rage flaring hot as he came face to face with Xardin. "This isn't retreat, Xardin, this is strategy."
"But the Galran way is "Death or Victory!" We cannot turn tail and flee from the culm, when they are there, within our grasp to crush and destroy."
Xardin was still young, but he was as much a mindless drone as many veterans in Zarkon's legion. He thought it an honour to serve under the Emperor's name, the dictator not seen as a King, but a living deity. His nature was pure, his headstrong and stubborn attitude one that Keith had taken a liking to, despite his desire for distance from everyone. He had even considered Xardin a possible ally one, but as much as the kit's nature was pure, he was already corrupted. And Keith couldn't risk everything for the sake of showing his subordinate the truth.

Corrlux rose form his chair, ready to admonish his second-in-command, but Keith's words remained unvoiced as an almighty crash sounded throughout the ship, the Bridge's display lighting up as an explosion ricocheted across the bridge's view. The unmistakable sound of blasters sounded through the smoke, and the roar of a Lion followed, too close for it to be the echoing from Pelax's incursion. "Tell me what's happening!" Keith demanded, but no sooner had the words left his mouth, was he thrown to the floor. Another crash, much louder than the first one, signified something had hit the ship.
And Keith didn't need to be told what had just hit them.

"Commander, it's the Blue Lion! It didn't remain with Pelax's ships. They didn't even see it escape them, and now it's attacking out ship." Another crash. Keith managed to remain on his feet this time, hand on his hip as he reached for his sword, his fighting instincts screaming danger!

Another crash. "Commander, it's trying to breach the hull."
"Return fire!" Keith yelled, mind working overtime. Attack, don't attack. Are they friend or are they foe?
But Keith couldn't risk the Lion for the sake of keeping a nuisance alive. But then, destroying the Blue Lion would weaken Voltron and the remaining Lion's would fall to Zarkon. Oh god, what is he to do.

The metal of the bridge screeched, the ear-splitting shriek twisted and mangled in the deep rumbling of thunder, the entire battleship shaking as the Lion clawed at the hull, it's body slamming into it again and again in attempts to gain entrance.
"Don't let it breach the hull! If it damages our defences when we're inside Venris' atmosphere, we'll be at risk to the toxic fumes."
"It's in our blind spot. Our guns can't aim for it."
"Then get the battle supports to fire on us! I don't care if they hit this ship, but we need to get the Lion off of our ship NOW!"

Damn Voltron and damn the chaos they bring!

Keith looked about the Bridge, ashamed and amazed at the effect one Lion was doing to the crew. There wasn't one soldier who wasn't scared, but there was something to be said about their ability to function under the stress of possible death. Brainwashing his head reminded him, and whatever faint ghost of respect Keith felt for the Galra, vanished.

Now was not the time for feelings.
Now was the time for action!

"Commander? Commander, where are you going?" Xardin had turned, searching for orders from his Corrlux, only to see Keith turning his back on the Bridge, unknown emotions creeping in through the cracks of his mask. "Commander!"
"I'm heading to the Red Lion. If the Paladins breach the hull, then that's where they'll go. But that Lion might as well be a distraction, so I'm going to head them off." He slowed his run from the Bridge, turning back to his second. "Xardin, you're in charge while I'm off the Bridge. I want that Lion under heavy fire. See to it that it does not gain access to the ship, and that the others do not follow us. Fail, and Zarkon with know it was you who sat at the helm."
He missed the automated reply of "Vrepit Sa," already gone. He wasted no time with stairs as he vaulted the rail of the helm, dropping down to the lower level where the communication officers were frantically relaying orders between patrols and the other half of the fleet, that were still battling the remaining Lions and Altean vessel. Keith spared them no time, nor focus as he rushed from the Bridge, through the maze of corridors and endless halls and down towards the hangar bay.
He hadn't got far when an almighty crash was heard and, once again, Keith was thrown from his feet. He didn't fall, clamouring to the rail of the walkway as the ship lurched, the gravity function flickering. Whatever damage the Lion inflicted didn't remain, and Keith was able to make it to the lowest level when it rammed the hull again.

This time, it broke through.

[Security breach, security breach. The Blue Lion has breached the 52nd floor, South Cargo Hold 3. I repeat, the Blue Lion has breached the 52nd Floor, South Cargo Hold 3. All soldiers to intercept. Do not allow the Paladins to take the Red Lion.]
"I GET IT!" Keith roared to the ship's internal communications system, not bothering with changing his course. By the time he returned to the fifty second floor, the Paladins would no longer be there. They were heading for one place and one place only: the forward hangar bay, where the Red Lion waited under guard.

However, when Keith reached the forward hangar bay, he found it to be empty. No guards on the door, neither Galra nor Android. Damn it. Was Keith too late?
Preparing to fight, the Galran pulled out his blade and charged into the hangar bay.

The empty hangar bay.

No guards and certainly no paladins. Just the prize of a Red Lion supported from the ceiling with its particle-shield barrier still in full effect. But Keith didn't lower his guard. If his men had abandoned their post to seek out the enemy aboard their ship, then he couldn't very well go galivanting off after them to give them a lecture about leaving the Red Lion unguarded. And leave the Red Lion unguarded…
But standing out in the middle of the room would give the Paladin's the opportunity for a stealth attack, if they managed to evade their pursuers. Better for Keith to mount his own ambush, even if it was only him against an unknown number of assailants.

The Galran hid himself near the Red Lion's feet, in a nook created by a stack of containers, power cells and the like. Nothing that could aid him with a surprise attack, unless he wanted to blow himself up with the enemy.
A warm sort of feeling settled on the back of his neck at the thought, a memory of laughter just quiet enough to be heard. A Paladin?

Keith turned to look, but there was no entry point from behind him, save the air vent, but that wasn't big enough for a drone to squeeze through. The feeling brushed over him again, and this time Keith knew he was being watched. But from where?
There was no one else in here, he knew that. Logically, the Paladin's couldn't have fought their way to the Lion before he had. Besides, they breached the ship after Keith reached his desired level. So who—

"Oh thank god."
The unfamiliar voice caught Keith's attention instantly, his eyes pulled towards the southern door. And there, in gleaming white armour, a little marked from battle, a little worn from scars of fight, stood a Paladin of Voltron. The Blue one, if the accented colour was anything to go by.
Were they alone? Was that why it was only the Blue Lion to chase them?

"Hey girl, looks like I found you," the Paladin said, the low-tone of their voice layered in relief and tiredness. He was clutching at his side, giving occasional glances back to the door he'd come in from, but not much of the outside could be heard over the continual alarm system. It was beginning to give Keith a headache.
The Paladin limped closer, breathing heavy, easy to hear as the gap between Human and Galra continued to lessen. He was taller than Keith, but he didn't look like he'd be much of a threat, what with the way he was already exhausted and injured, if the tightness of his breaths were anything to go by.

Keith had never seen a Human, and while this one was still hidden under armour and helmet, Keith wasn't really all that impressed. Were Voltron's victories embellished before they reached central command? How could these Human's take out a Starfleet battlecruiser with only one Lion?

"Hey, Red. You gonna open up and let me in?" The Paladin came closer, speaking to the Lion as if it had sentience of its own. Keith wanted to snigger at the childish notion, but a wash of warmth enveloped him, stronger this time, the sound of laughter light and teasing.
And in that instant, Keith realised whose eyes were upon him—

"Red?" The lion didn't move, nor did it give any sign that it had heard the Paladin. Undiscouraged, the Human reached up with one arm, rapping their knuckles on the force field, much like knocking on a door. Yeah, as if it were that easy-
Keith could've cursed out loud when he heard the soft purr of the Lion, watching with a slack jaw as the force field slowly dissolved into nothing. No. No way! No way it could've been that easy! Keith tried for ages to try and get that damn force field to give, and this bloody Human comes along, taps a few times and says "please?"

No, no way! Keith is not having it!

Before the Blue Paladin could reach out and touch the Lion, Keith sprung from his position, the surprise taking his opponent off guard, Keith able to dart in close enough that the flat of his blade struck the Human across the shoulder. Afterall, his aim wasn't to hinder Voltron too much. They were a necessary distraction and Keith needed them at full-fighting-strength to entertain the Emperor.
Still, the Galra's attack took the other by surprise, the strength of his swing enforced with the momentum of his jump knocking the Paladin back and off his feet. He didn't stay down however, rolling with the motion before rising to his feet once more.
So, Humans were agile. Keith had to remain on his guard and expect the unexpected.

Still, the Galran Commander wasn't expecting the small handle-like contraption in the Human's hands to change shape into an old-model repeat blaster. Three shots fired in the space of a tick and Keith's blade only just managed to deflect the second two. The first hit him on his shoulder, but his armour saved him from taking any real damage. Still, he felt the blow the laser dealt, and it wasn't something he wanted to feel again.

"Back off, or I'll kill you," the Paladin warned, voice steeled low and threatening. Quaint.
And pointless, because no Galra would ever think of retreating or backing down to the Human, even if they hadn't seen him before he adopted the charade of strength. Keith knew he was tired, that he was hurt. He wasn't about to back down. It was because he was stubborn, not mindless like his brethren's "victory or death" mindset they all too willingly adopted.
Keith was nothing like them. He wouldn't back down from this fight, even if he didn't want to battle the Paladin. Not for fear of losing, but for the unknown thought to keeping the Red Lion and throwing the Blue Paladin back to his team so he could keep pissing Zarkon off.
Dahast! This bastard was really ruining his plans!

"If you think any Galra would back down from the chance to fight a mighty paladin of Voltron, then you're sorely mistaken."
"No one's taken me up on the offer so far. But there's no harm in asking."
"You waste your breath," Keith spat, searching for an opening. There!
He charged in, keeping his body low to the ground. A roll took him out of reach of the gun's barrel, a well-aimed kick at the Human's hands and the weapon was kicked high into the air. Keith followed through with a fist, but the Human's gaze hadn't followed his gun, but remained on Keith, waiting for the second strike. He blocked it with ease, his own three-finger jab darting in, just skimming the Galra's throat. Fuck, that would've hurt.
But Keith replies with his left hand, bringing up his blade. He plans to balance it under his enemy's chin, demand surrender then worry for the way he's going to smuggle the little shit off the ship before any of his soldiers track him down to this room. If not, Keith's fleet will be put to the top of Voltron's "Wanted" list. Not in the plan.

Neither was being disarmed.

One minute Keith's holding his blade and in the next it's somewhere near the Red Lion's paw, his wrist in the Human's grasp, instinct telling him to immobilise him. All he can do is grab back. Their locked together, one tick, two ticks, before Keith brings up a knee and boots the Human square in the chest. "Flexible little fucker—" the Human grins, a feral grin under his visor. He's pale, but not as pale as tales of Haggar's Champion suggested. His features were small, petite in comparison to Galran, his skin smooth and furless. But his snarl is Galran and it's the only warning Keith gets before his captive spins; the hold Keith has breaking before his arm can be snapped the wrong way. He jumps back, reeling from the kick that caught him in the ribs.
"—but I'm flexible too."

The boy's smile is teasing and challenging all the same. Keith beckons with his hands, stance at the ready. "Come on then. Show me just how flexible you can be."

The Human takes the bait. He charges in, left swing, right, feint and dodge. Keith's fist swung at mid-air, snapped back to defend from the high knee kick that would've landed a solid blow on his thigh. But the Paladin's hand is too close to Keith's rear and he had no time to pull back before a hand firmly grasps his tail, pulling hard, pulling Keith backwards – off balance.

"You fucker," the Galra hisses, crouching low in defence, his ears pressing back to his head as he bared his fangs.

It was the Human's turn to bait him into the spar. "Now, now Kitty don't get angry."
Keith snarled. He could feel the smog of anger under his skin, the familiar heat of fury wrapping around him, his claws and fangs bared as he dived forward. The Paladin rolled. Keith's claws scratched at his armour, dealing no lasting damage, but showing the boy that his Galran combatant was getting serious.
Left, right, left, right again. Keith caught the flesh from the back of Human's hand, claws carving through the weave of his glove, drawing blood. Keith felt his body tense from the shout of pain. He wasn't meant to be hurting him. He was meant to be getting this shit out, if not all of Keith's plans are going to crumble around him.

"You're not getting that Lion," the Galra cursed after dancing to the song of battle for too long, without finding a decent opening. The Human was strong; strong and agile enough to keep up with the Commander, but that only served to agitate Keith more; his window of opportunity rapidly closing. How come no one had found them yet? How was Keith to settle this matter without losing the Red Lion, or his disguise as Commander in the Empire?

"I'm taking Red with me, and you're not going to stop me."
"You won't even get close to touching her. She stays with me."
The boy charged. Keith danced out his reach, mindful to keep his tail from the grabbing hand that reached, too close for comfort. He didn't find a hold.

"You can't stop us. We'll defeat Zarkon."
"You can't, he's too strong." Because he was. He was invincible. Long-reigning supreme leader of the Empire, with little known about weakness, or even anything that would irritate him besides failure and insubordination. Even his wife was nothing to him if casting her aside meant victory. Besides, planning to murder the witch was far more dangerous than defying Zarkon by stealing the Red Lion from right under his nose.

"Getting tired?" the Human baited, pulling Keith's mind back to the present.
It seemed his opponent was not one for silence, even during battle. And uncharacteristically, Keith replied in kind. "Not in the slightest. I'm just biding my time. I'm not alone on this ship, but you are, and you're outnumbered."
A series of emotions flashed across the Human's face: fear, worry, doubt. It answered Keith's question about the numbers of enemies aboard his ship: just the one.

"So what? Did your 'friends' send you on this suicide mission? Or are you trying to be the hero and save everyone by yourself?" Hypocritical taunts, considering it was similar to what Keith was doing as he stood, surrounded by enemies on all sides.

The Galra's words seemed to have an effect on the other; if his silence was anything to go by. His mouth opened, closed, opened, but no taunt nor jeer was replied. "Have you forgotten how to surrender?" Keith grinned, rolling his shoulders, showing he was still ready to fight as they circled together, eyes never leaving their opponent. "How about I help you. Repeat after me: please don't kill me, I'm too pretty to die."

Anger shone in the boy's eyes, but when he spoke, he was oddly amused. "You think I'm pretty?" The damn fool was laughing at Keith!
"Pretty stupid," he snapped, following the insult with a fist. It caught the boy's chin and he fell back, but Keith didn't chase. "You're here, alone, with no real plan to get the Lion and get back to your team. You've stranded yourself on my ship."
"Your ship?"
"Yes, my ship." The Human smiled; in an attempt to hide his true feelings of fear no doubt. "Then if I take you out, the fleet will fall into disarray. My friends will beat your ships and we'll take back the Red Lion. Zarkon is as good as dead"

Keith scoffed. "If you think that to be true, then you're dumber than I thought." He lunged, just as the Blue Paladin did, yet he rolled to the side, hands down, fingers curling around the cool metal hilt of Keith's blade. Ah fuck.
"Not dumb. Just inventive."
"Definitely dumb, and maybe a little lucky."

"Yet not lucky enough."

Out of nowhere, a hand reached down from behind, thick grubby fingers curling around the Paladin's neck as he was lifted off the ground. No sooner had he picked up the sword, he dropped it, fingers clawing at those that curled around his neck, trying to breathe when the Galra flexed his hand and the boy's air supply was threatened.

Keith stood straight, regaining composure, narrow eyes sent to his comrade. "Xardin. This was my fight. You interrupted." He hid all emotion behind a mask of indifference, knowing that the only one that could sense his fear of the intrusion to be the Red Lion. She remained sat where she was, unmoving, and defenceless with her shields down. Shit, shit shitshitshit—

"Sorry Corrlux. I only sought to help you."
Xardin didn't release the Human, but he did lower him enough that the boy's toes weren't scraping along the floor of the hangar bay. "The Blue Lion managed to breach the hull, but she ships chased it off. When you didn't return to the Bridge, I came to find you." He pulls the Human closer, tone thick with amusement. "But imagine my surprise when I find this culm on board. What happened little Paladin? Did you think sneaking in the gaps in the walls would bring you victory." His hands curled tighter. The Human couldn't get any air.
"I know many are scared of you, but face to face, I can see now that you're nothing more than vermin; bemis to be crushed under our boot—"
"Xardin." Keith's voice carried low in the quiet; the alarms had been shut down but during his fight with the Paladin he hadn't taken notice. Now there was nothing but the sounds of heavy breathing and the desperation of one almost out of air. "Release him."
Keith couldn't let the boy die. It didn't matter he was his enemy, it didn't matter that their foe was the same. He knew Voltron would never accept the help of a Galran, nor would he offer his help to those that would destroy his plans. But even if there was no alliance between them, he was an asset all the same. And Keith could not weaken a force that stood against Zarkon, no matter how few their numbers.

The Human made a noise in the Galran's tightening grasp, evident that the creature was attempting to struggle fruitlessly.
"Release him Xardin."
"Corrlux?"
"I said, release him."

Xardin turned to his Commander, questions falling short of his lips, body lack-lustre in gloating that he had turned on the boy. Now he was just confusion and a want for understanding. "Corrlux I don't—"
"First you interrupt my fight, and now you refuse my orders," Keith said, marching closer. The threat was clear to the younger, who dropped the Paladin and stumbled a step back, body falling into salute, eyes staring straight ahead.

The Human was already unconscious. His body crumpled, just a mass of limbs upon the hangar floor.
Without thought, or acknowledgement to his actions, Keith rushed forward, by the boy's side in an instant. He pulled the helmet from his head, rolling him to lay on his back. His hair was similar to Keith's fur; the colour of royal palms. He brushed it from the Human's face, a hand over his nose, and a sigh of relief given when the faint touch of breath was felt upon his palm.

"C-Corrlux?"
Ah fuck.

"I gave you direct orders to take control of the fleet," Keith said lowly, aware his tail flicked in agitation, unable to hide his anger from the soldier. Xardin eyes the movement, a glance to his Human captive, then back to his Commander, trying to piece together what wouldn't fill the gaps. "Tell me. Why are you here?"
Anger wasn't a mask Keith needed to pull over his features; he was already angry, torn from the fear of being found with the Human. What were his options now? Take the boy captive and hope that Voltron would find them again to claim him back? But then that would leave Keith with no alternative than to torture the boy for information, to uphold his guise as a Commander in Zarkon's Legion. The crew would expect Keith to take him to Central Command: a valuable prisoner, and trophy for their Emperor.
And if he refused, and took the Human with him, then he's simply inviting Voltron to attack, again and again and again until they have both Paladin and Lion.

But what if he avoids all that? What if he kills Xardin, blames the Human—
But how would he get the Human out, get him back to his teammates without altering the crew to his mutiny. He couldn't contact Voltron, he couldn't intercept them in hopes of a friendly chat. Any communication with the whilst he held their teammate captive would be seen as nothing but a trick to them.
What plan could he make, what steps were his to follow to assure victory?

"You— You didn't return. I left Chejva in charge, while I came to assist with any damage the Lion inflicted. But you weren't on the fifty second level. You said you were coming here, and I came too."

"Your excuse doesn't not justify your abandonment of duties. It is you who I left in charge, not Chejva. While she is fit to be responsible in my absence, I can see that you are not, Lieutenant Commander." Keith's voice was steel with anger, the inferred threat clear as if spoken out loud. "But not only have you rejected my leadership, but you reject order. Your negligence could've loss us the battle if the remainder of Voltron come to take back their teammate."

"But Pelax—"
"I don't believe Pelax can defeat Voltron, neither could he damage them enough to stop any further attack on our fleet. But it was necessary to pull back, until we could converge with another fleet to bolster our own fire power." The words spilled from Keith before he could give himself time to think what they could mean, hoping the rapid pace of lies would confuse Xardin enough into accepting Keith's word like he always had and leave him to flee. The Red Lion's shields were down, he could take her and escape, take the Blue Lion with him and continue on to the rendezvous location. He just needed to fool Xardin.

"But the Human—"
"This Human will have vital intelligence that we can use, Xardin. You are not to harm him any further."
But the order, that would normally as absolute law wasn't acknowledge. Keith looked up, to the eyes that looked on him with more questions. And fear.

"Xardin, I gave you an order."
"But why?" Xardin's voice was soft, barely a whisper. "Because I said—"
"You weren't fighting him," Xardin said, his voice louder this time. Stronger. "I've seen you fight, on and off the battle field, in the arena. I watched you when we trained together, I worshipped you when I was a kit, and you…. You…"
"Xardin—"
"You weren't fighting him. Not seriously. Not with the intent to kill him. I watched you, I've always watched you. I know how strong you are, I know that that—" he said, pointing away from them to the space that had seen Keith square off to the Paladin "—that wasn't your full strength. That wasn't your strength at all!"
"Xardin—" But it was too late. Xardin had seen.
He looked to the Red Lion, to Keith and the Human he held in his arms. "You lied. This isn't under the orders of the Emperor. He would never order the Lion's to be sent from him. They're the weapons he needs for absolute rule. You're not acting under his orders, but against them."
Xardin pulled his sword. "You're a traitor!"

The betrayal was clear as day, Keith even feeling a momentary pang of guilt at hurting a soldier that had followed him, respected him, but no. Keith couldn't let himself feel. Not as everything crumbled around him and he was faced with the unknown to save, not only himself, but the Human, the Red Lion, and the remainder of the undefeated universe.

"I won't let you leave here alive!" the younger Galran yelled, all uncertainty gone from his voice as he took a stance, blade aimed for Keith's throat. "You're not fit to lead this fleet. You never were. You may have fooled everyone else, and I'll admit, even me. But you can't say anything now that will save you now. But I've long since respected you, followed you, looked up to you, so I'll let you draw your sword. Fight me, Corrlux, and I will show you the might of the Galra whom you have turned your back on.
"I will make you regret it."

Xardin launched himself across the space between them, Keith slow in rising from where the Human still remained, lain across his lap, oblivious of the two Aliens that fought over him.
Facing Xardin was nothing like facing the Paladin. Whereas the Human had sought victory through the desire of claiming the Red Lion, Xardin fought with vengeance, fury and a hatred that burned as hot as Keith's for his tainted birth-rite. His sword, pulsating with the hue of the Galran Empire, carved clean through the air, thirsting for Keith's blood. But metal met metal as Keith parried with his own weapon, the sounds of swords clashing filling the quiet hangar as the beasts snarled at one another.
Xardin pushed Keith back, back towards the Lion, his strength and energy not mired by an earlier battle. But he lacked experience and the ability to calm his mind when facing a dangerous adversary. With every wound the younger inflicted, Keith replied with three. Light wounds, shallow wounds, because the culm still has a heart and he may want to believe that he cared not for the Galran Empire, but it said nothing to his care for his Lieutenant Commander, who had followed him through the ranks. Any true soldier wouldn't care for an enemy, but then Keith never considered himself to be just like the other Galra. He was different. He wasn't blinded by lies.

And even as Keith told this to his subordinate, useless, and a waste of time, he didn't stop and realise the hope that Xardin would see reason. Why would he? Why would any of them?
It wasn't like Keith hadn't tried. When he was a Kit, and he defied those that raised him, taught him, punished him when he refused to believe their teachings that Galra were the future and the only future for the Universe. But no-one listened. No one ever listened.
So what was this pointless effort in trying to explain to Xardin that what he believed was wrong? Was it the meagre hope that he wouldn't have to kill the younger, that was pure but corrupt all the same? Was it the hope that Keith would no longer be alone in his battle against the Empire?
Whatever it was, it wasn't worth speaking, upon.

"There is nothing you can say to justify what you've done! You're not fit to be called Galra!"
And even though it was a thought that occupied as much of Keith's thoughts as fighting alone, there was some sort of feeling, reminiscent to hurt, when he heard those words.

Xardin launched himself across the space between them,

It had always been a point questioned by bullies and ones that thoughts themselves better, stemmed from Keith's lack-of-height and the difference in his way of thinking, acting, being.
Keith's fist would attest that wasn't the case. His blade was what stood for him now. "You're playing a dangerous game Xardin. You fight for a tyrant, an oppressor. He's corrupted everyone with fear and delusions."
The words brought only anger. "I am not afraid. Not of the Humans, not of Voltron, and certainly not of you!"

Xardin charged again, launching himself forward, fury and fire his allies as he saw his blade stab for his Commander. But Keith was nimble, and his blade caught handle and hilt, turning the sword to carve the air, Xardin toppling forward from surprise. He didn't lose his footing; the effort of years training saw him feinting. Keith did not fall for it, and pushed Xardin back, pulling blood from his cheek and a cry from his lips. "Curse you, you half-breed scum!"

Swords clashed, again and again, Keith fighting for ground and the chance to pull back from this fight. Xardin knew, but he had nothing to lose but his life. So when Keith tried to run, faking dodging in the attempts to gain ground to the Red Lion, Xardin knew where to strike. Not his Commander, that was too far from his reach, his blade and his fury.
No.

Who better to target than the unconscious Human that fought beside him, whose very existence was a bane to Zarkon's rule. If Xardin eliminated one of the Paladin's of Voltron, then even if he died by the Commander's blade, hasn't he assured victory for the Galra?
Their moral code may be "Victory or Death," but Xardin could gladly welcome both with a final strike of his blade.

And so his sword swung, not for Keith, but for the Human that lay at his feet.