Iverson, to Pidge's dismay, really, really enjoyed torturing new recruits. She had hoped that as a guard member, she would get easy access to their documents, but since day one, the captain had been working them like dogs. Most of the training exercises were regular drills: running laps, learning the hand signals guards would use to communicate during a fight, weapon-training. But sometimes, he even had them do bizarre, unrelated tasks like clean his laundry, claiming it 'built endurance'. 'To what? Noxious gas?' Pidge had thought. Either she was busy with Iverson's inescapable workload or she was too tired to even think straight.
Most nights, she fell asleep the instant her head hit her pillow. And that said a lot, because the guards' quarters weren't quite as lavish as one would hope for. Pidge swore the beds had to be made of corncobs, but she and the others never let that stop them from sleep.
Honestly, that part of all this- like, actually sleeping- was a whole new concept. Pidge had always been a night-owl, always kept up by her racing thoughts and ideas.
Pidge had made a few acquaintances over the past few days, in particular, her bunkmate Lotor. He was a bit rough around the edges, but was generally nice to her. He even let her have the top bunk. They mostly talked about light topics. Pidge was thankful he didn't ask much about what life was like back home, unlike some of the others. They didn't mean anything by it, of course, just friendly conversation, but it was still a more sensitive topic. And in return, Pidge didn't ask him about his.
The number one topic of conversation though was complaining about Iverson. Indeed, misery does love company.
"You got stuck with the socks, huh? Well, I had to wash his underwear!" Pidge whined. At this, Lotor chuckled, something she hadn't heard before. Usually, it was just a small snort or an absentminded hum.
Lotor had figured it out the day he first saw her. She bore a striking resemblance to the little Altean boy and the father. Lotor had been personally responsible for finding ways to force them into making new weapons and such for the Galra Kingdom. He soon learned that they wouldn't give anything away if it just threatened themselves. Torture didn't work. Neither could he threaten to hurt one to make the other work. They were smart. They knew Zarkon needed both of them. The two worked as a team when inventing. Take one away, and not only would they no longer have leverage, they would no longer have the efficiency either.
Did the girl really think a little haircut could fool anybody? Maybe it did everyone else, but he knew her when he saw her. She was the girl in the boy's picture:
The little lab rat had kept it in his pocket hidden for weeks before Lotor even knew about it. When he saw the Altean in his cell, cradling something to his chest, while his other arm hugged his knees, he swiped it out of the boy's hands. The kid snapped and jumped to his feet, trying to wrestle the thing out of Lotor's hold. Five minutes later, the boy was secured behind the cell door, with a bloody nose, still shaking the bars and screaming "Give it back! You sick bastard!" among other names.
Lotor smiled at his futile attempts, while he leisurely examined the photo.
"Pretty girl. Sister?" he glanced tauntingly at the boy.
…
…
…
"Lotor?" the girl waved her hand in front of his face.
He jumped. "Huh?"
"Didn't you hear? Iverson wants all of us in the mess hall. 'Important news'".
"Are we there yet?" Lance groaned, slumping forward on his horse.
"Only fifteen seconds closer than the last time you asked" Hunk said, rolling his eyes at his friend. Lance certainly was a caring older brother (oldest of a family with eight children), but sometimes, Hunk thought he got along so well with them because he was a kid himself.
"How much longer?"
"I don't know, Lance. Stop asking". Hunk had been to the city a couple times before to get supplies for his job, but having been lost in thought for practically the whole way, time swooped over his head.
"But I'm hunnnggggggrrrryyyyy" he said, dramatically clawing at his belly.
Hunk smiled. "You know, I think I did pack some peanut butter cookies… but they were meant for Katie".
"Hunk, my man, my buddy, you don't want me to starve, do you?"
"Hmm I'll need some time to think about it", but while Hunk said that, he was simultaneously fishing through his bag for the cookie container. Of course, Hunk had packed a lot of cookies. Mostly, because he knew Lance would complain.
The boys continued following the path, nibbling (or in Lance's case, devouring) cookies along the way. The sun had set about an hour ago, first starting when they began their journey. The part of the path they were currently on was framed with underbrush, no trees, so the light from the moon and stars still lit their path. Still, Hunk was a bit worried about traveling at night- he'd heard all about highwaymen and roadside robbers. What if Katie got mixed up with them? What if she never made it into the city? What if-
"Hunk! Look!".
Said boy followed Lance's pointed finger to the city downhill that was out of sight but a few moments ago.
Hunk's face broke into an energetic smile, along with Lance's.
The latter boy's face took on a more crooked smile, and he looked over to Hunk.
"Hunk?"
"Yes, Lance?"
"Are we there yet?".
"I wonder what this is all about" Pidge asked.
"I don't know" Lotor snapped harshly. At this, she looked a bit hurt and walked ahead to give him some space.
There was that weird twinge again. She was making this really hard. Something about her made his stomach all fluttery, and she was constantly on his mind. How could he hold her family captive without a little guilt? It'd be a lot easier if she'd just never gotten involved. She could have stayed at home, married, and settled down happily all under the Galra Kingdom's rule. His eyebrow twitched at the thought of her getting married to someone else. He commanded himself to stop thinking like that. It wouldn't even bother him if he had never met her. 'What is more important?' he scolded himself, 'your kingdom or some silly Altean girl?'.
Before he knew it, he found himself seated in the mess hall with the others, near Pidge, yes, but not next to her like they sat before at mealtimes. She was talking to one of the other recruits, which further added to the fire burning inside him.
"Ah-hem", Captain Dork-wad cleared his throat.
Lotor fought the urge to roll his eyes. He may be a spy taking on the persona of an Altean citizen, but that didn't mean his loathing for Iverson wasn't as real and passionate as the others. Anyone would hate the guy after being forced to handle the man's dirty laundry.
"Due to recent events, you will not be training full-time", Iverson continued. Lotor assumed the 'recent events' were referring to what Nyma told him about the princes going on the loose. Fools. "Our king has ordered more guards to be on duty, and that we shall give him, but our experienced guards are spread a bit thin for our liking. Thus, you recruits will both train and take on shifts a bit earlier than we expected. The new schedule and each member's station is listed there,". Iverson pointed to a piece of paper nailed to the wall. "Are we clear?"
'Yes, sir!'s were said, and once Iverson took leave, all rushed to look at the paper, excited to finally do something other than laundry.
Lotor met Nyma at their usual place, which was a small hike away from the castle. They met every night to trade information. Nyma worked as a maid/server in the castle, and thus, could easily listen in on conversations that might have information that would be useful to the Galra Kingdom. Lotor was also a spy, but his job was to gain military secrets and such.
"Your highness", she bowed.
"Save the formalities, Nyma; we have things to discuss".
She suddenly dropped the whole act and chuckled darkly, leaning nonchalantly against a tree with arms crossed. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed? 'Cause someone's grumpy".
"It's nothing."
She hummed in a way that indicated she didn't believe him, and then said, "Well then, what are these 'things to discuss'? If you're so eager to talk business, shoot".
"Haven't really found anything worth noting, except that we 'newbies' will start working earlier than expected".
"That's it?" Nyma raised an eyebrow.
He ignored the question. "So, have you initiated the plan yet?"
"Actually, yes. Put some in his morning tea" Nyma said, smugly, dangling a bottle of slow-acting poison in the air for show. "One dose a day, and our precious king will be dead in a matter of weeks".
Lotor nodded. He began to walk off, but before he knew what he was doing, he turned around and said, "Nyma?"
"You beckoned me, your highness?" she replied sarcastically.
"You know the two lab rats back home?". In response, she raised an eyebrow, a silent way of urging him on. "Well, I found the old guy's daughter. His son's little sister." Lotor didn't know what else to say. Why was he even telling her this?
"Hmm" she paused in thought. "We could use her as a threat. You know, work or the girl's dead".
"No!" he replied too quickly.
Nyma eyed him suspiciously before instantly bursting into laughter. Lotor was dumbfounded and stood still as a statue until she caught her breath and wheezed out, "The prince has a lil crush on an Altean", sounding like she was talking to a toddler.
"I do not!"
"What do you call it, then? An infatuation?"
Lotor's cheeks grew red, and he was lucky to have the dark of night to hide his blush. "As future king of the Galra Kingdom, I command you to stop."
Of course, Nyma didn't take the order too seriously, but she did quiet down a bit. "Your wish is my command" she deadpanned. "So what do you want me to do about it, lover-boy?"
"I-I…umm-"
Nyma examined her nails and casually said, "You know, to use her, we don't have to actually hurt her. Just keep her in your palace.
Lotor thought for a minute. He didn't want her to hate him or take away her freedom, but on the other hand…
"I'll think about it".
