Arusian Crusade: Changing Tides
Chapter 3: Snake in the Grass

I feel like it's been a rather long time since I typed 'thanks for the reviews', so, thanks for the reviews! And enjoy!


Breakfast at the Castle of Lions was always a somewhat chaotic event, and it was no different just because they had company. No matter what kind of company it was. Hunk and Nanny started the day off the way they always did, by arguing over who was handling which part of the morning meal. It was usually considered a victory for Hunk if he was allowed to do anything; today he'd enlisted Pidge and the mice to barricade the kitchen unless Nanny let him pitch in.

Wasn't this supposed to be a very serious mission that placed them on the front lines against the Drules? Why was he standing in a doorway, with a team of robotic mice backing him up, for nothing but a bribe of chocolate cupcakes?

...Because chocolate cupcakes. Right. You're a hopeless addict, Pidge.

Soon enough the castle matron approached and halted, staring at the small pilot, as two emerald eyes and a spectrum of glowing optic sensors stared back at her. "What are you doing here? Let me in my kitchen."

"Sorry. No can do."

"Ach, none of this nonsense today, please." She turned and shot an evil look at the big engineer standing behind her, chuckling and not doing anything at all to pretend he wasn't responsible for the current situation. "We have a guest in the castle, Hunk, and royalty at that! We must make him feel welcome."

"Yeah, I know, that's why I should be doing the cooking."

"Why you... fine! You cook the eggs, and woe betide you if a single yolk breaks. Now get these rodents out of my way!"

Pidge glowered. "Who're you calling a rodent?" His indignation was somewhat undermined by the fact that the two mice perching on his shoulders squeak-clicked in agreement. "...Yeah yeah, we're going. And by the way, I like my yolks broken." He shot Nanny a quick salute and moved away from the door before she could slap him.

Not that he wouldn't have deserved it, of course.

The rest of the team was standing in the hallway, their expressions showing varying degrees of amusement and exasperation—most of the former from Lance, most of the latter from Keith. Prince Bokar had appeared at some point in the exchange as well, and watched the proceedings with some confusion.

"Don't mind them," Allura giggled. "This happens every morning."

Coran nodded, watching as the three mice who weren't on Pidge's shoulders dispersed. "You'll find we are quite informal in the Castle of Lions. With so few survivors, decorum just hasn't seemed like a priority."

"I can understand that." Bokar gave the two remaining mice a curious look. "May I ask, though... what are those?"

"Diagnostic units," Pidge answered promptly.

"Team mascots," Lance said at the same time.

"Mice," Keith said simply.

The prince blinked, and seemed to decide it wasn't worth trying to ask anything further, but Pidge beckoned for him to approach. "There's a mouse for each lion," he explained as their pale-haired guest drew near, "they help us with the tech work. We named 'em all after cheeses; these two are Colby and Blue." The green-eyed mouse on his left shoulder clicked happily, waving a paw in greeting. On his right shoulder, Blue gave a sharp squeak and arched her back, displaying the gaping hole in her metal skin and the wires poking out of her shattered tail.

She'd probably have bitten Bokar pretty badly, if she could be bothered to leave the safety of the little engineer's shoulder.

"Heyyy," Lance smirked, reaching out and patting the mouse's scarred head. "Why've you got to be so hostile, Blue?"

"Skriik!"

"Don't mind her, she's a little antisocial these days," Pidge explained quietly as the prince took a step back. "Hasn't been the same since she took some combat damage last week."

A startled look. "Combat damage?"

Everyone went silent; Pidge winced. He didn't really want to have to explain how that had come about. But he could see nobody else was interested in answering the question either, and he supposed it was his own fault they'd gotten to the topic...

Mercifully, Nanny chose that moment to appear in the doorway again. "Enough with the standing around! You," she pointed at him with a scowl, "go and set the table, you need to make yourself useful after conspiring with that oaf who can't even crack an egg properly—"

"—Relax, Lady Nanny! I haven't broken any, have I?"

Pidge removed himself from the situation and went looking for dishes, listening to Nanny admonish the others about standing in the hallway rather than sitting in the dining room to talk like civilized people, and chuckled. He'd always felt civilization was overrated.

"Colby, you've got the forks," he ordered. "And I dare Nanny to say anything about it."


Breakfast itself was fairly uneventful. Or at least, uneventful other than Nanny trying to stab Pidge with a fork at the beginning of the meal, yelling something about mice not belonging on the table.

The team dispersed as usual after eating; Lance noted their guest looking a bit lost, and decided that was probably his cue. Be friendly and keep an eye on him. Righty then, let's get started. "So, Prince Bokar, you want a tour?"

That got him a look of such gratitude he almost felt guilty about his suspicions. Almost. But the chills still creeping down his spine did away with that. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all, c'mon."

Truthfully, Lance mused, he was going to feel like a terrible jerk if Bokar turned out to be in the clear. After all, he knew plenty about being lost in a strange place, a lone refugee from another planet... he should have been sympathetic to the prince's plight. The fact that he wasn't did as much to set off his radar as anything else.

Something was still just off.

"So you've seen the kitchen and dining room. The hangar is down that way," he explained, pointing down a side corridor. "I do not recommend going anywhere near there ever, because Pidge is always there, and if he catches you he'll recruit you to do something scientific and give you a headache." Deciding it was probably best for his commander to see him at work, he took a sharp right after a few yards. "The command center's this way."

"Command center." Bokar's violet eyes darted over each doorway they passed, taking in everything, as though he'd never seen a castle before. Which would not surprise Lance at all, really.

"Yep. Keith's hangout, mostly... and sure enough." As they entered castle control, his friend glanced up from the consoles, arching an eyebrow at the two in the doorway. "Just playing tour guide, chief, don't mind us."

The prince nodded a greeting to the commander, but was mostly focused on the colored doors around the edges of the room. "What's all of this, if I might ask?"

Lance opened his mouth to say something snarky about how obviously he could ask, but Keith beat him to speaking. "The lions launch from here."

Actually, he wasn't too sure their guest needed to know that, but it could be funny if he tried to investigate further. Certainly Red Lion would be happy to eat this creep's face. Maybe he should try to arrange that... nah, might get me in trouble. We'll save that one. "What he said. That's why we call it castle control, even though it doesn't really control the castle because that would be pretty much weird. Moving on!"

He caught a faint smirk from Keith as he left, and couldn't help agreeing with the sentiment. Here he was, expert pilot and professional Drule killer, relegated to herding exiled royalty around the castle. But it was about to all be worth it...

The next doorway led outside.

"This is the courtyard." He went ahead and walked out into the grassy space, gesturing to the paved areas first. "We have cookouts out here sometimes, and if you think Hunk and Nanny were going at it at breakfast, you ought to see them around a campfire. They're both nuts." Circling around the yard, he brought his companion to the sneering burlap sack residing there. "And this is Strawman."

Bokar cocked his head. "Strawman?"

"Yeah, he's our training dummy. We thought the name suited him."

The prince approached the dummy tentatively and poked it a few times, then nodded. "Yes, I do see how it would be apt."

"Go on, give 'im a punch or two, there's no way you can resist that face." Lance offered his most challenging grin along with the words. The prince was pretty, no doubt, but something about his prettiness seemed like it was just screaming sissy. Of course, he knew better than to judge someone by their appearance. Best to give Bokar the opportunity to prove he wasn't as soft as he looked.

Or fail to prove it. That would also be entirely acceptable.

Giving the dummy a doubtful look, Bokar stepped forward and nodded. Quickly—so quick Lance outright missed the first move that must have been there—he lunged and slammed one fist, then the other, into Strawman's smirking face with enough force to shake his pole.

Huh. Speed sniper. "Not bad," Lance admitted grudgingly.

The prince rubbed his knuckles with a grimace. "I can see how you would learn to dislike him very quickly, really."

"Yeah." Lance cast him a curious look. "Trained you in punching things back on Sennec, huh?"

"Of course. Our monarchy has... or had... a long and glorious martial tradition." He sighed and it was really hard not to feel sorry for him. Maybe... no. Even as sympathy was trying to burrow its way into Lance's chest, he felt his hair standing on end again. "Little use against warships and robeasts."

"Yeah," he agreed with a nod that was not entirely without empathy regardless. But he liked this new development because it meant he had an excuse for what he'd been wanting to do since Bokar first showed up on Arus. If they were sparring he could surely be forgiven for punching this guy right in his pretty face, couldn't he? "Want to go a couple rounds with me? Let's see what you've got."

One pale eyebrow raised, and he got the same exact doubtful look Strawman had been graced with a few moments ago. "You're certain?"

Did I not sound certain? "Let's do it."

Nodding, the prince dropped into a martial stance, one Lance couldn't quite identify but he wasn't even all up on his Earth martial arts, never mind whatever they did on Sennec. He readied himself, tensing, waiting.

And Bokar... vanished.

Lance froze, staring at the space where the prince had been, stunned into stillness for a moment. Only a moment, because the next second he sensed a presence behind and slightly above him, whirling just in time to take one of his opponent's boots to his chest.

"Oof!" He scrambled to his feet, gasping for breath. "What was that?"

The gold flecks in the prince's eyes glinted and a slight smirk played across his face. "I do apologize, I should have warned you of that." He sounded amused. Sincere, oddly enough, but amused. "My people mix sorcery with our martial arts. I ought to have held back, but, force of habit."

Hmph. "You don't need to hold back on my account, pal."

"If you insist." And he was gone again.

Wise to the trick now, Lance spun around, had time to see the air ripple and the prince reappear just in front of him. This time he was ready. Not to block the attack, oh no. Blocking was for people with superior tactical sense. He preferred to let his fists do his thinking as well as his talking. After all, if even he didn't know what he was planning, his opponent couldn't hope to read it.

He jumped and they met in midair, both his fists slamming into Bokar's stomach, the prince's knee striking his throat. Both went down hard, tumbling in opposite directions and glaring as they regained their footing.

A silvery aura was gathering around the prince. "Well played." He raced forward, throwing a punch that Lance dodged easily—too easily—he caught the feint a second too late and managed to roll halfway out of the incoming scissor kick... but only halfway. A sharp pain shot through the back of his neck and he went down with a hiss.

I really hate this guy.

He jumped to his feet in time to see Bokar bearing down on him, pressing his advantage, eyes zeroed in fiercely. "Not played well enough," the prince added coolly, dropping a shoulder and landing a solid blow to his chest.

"I think that's sufficient."

Both jumped; Lance had not realized they had spectators, and from the way Bokar's eyes widened it was clear he hadn't either. Keith and Allura were standing behind them in workout clothes, and the commander was scowling straight at his auburn-haired subordinate. "Oh, hi chief."

"Playing tour guide, hmm?"

"Well, yeah. Introduced him to Strawman and things went from there. Stupid dummy just really makes people want to start punching each other, y'know how it is..."

Allura started to laugh and cut herself off quickly when Keith shot her a dark look. "Princess, would you mind finishing the tour off? I've got to have a little talk with my second in command."

Wordlessly, the princess motioned for Bokar to follow her and the two vanished from the courtyard. Maybe it was her castle, but everyone knew not to argue with Keith when he got that crackle of lightning in his eyes...

"So, Lance." He crossed his arms. "What would you have done if I hadn't told you to be friendly?"

"Probably shot him."

"I'm sorry I asked."

Lance sighed and looked back toward the courtyard. "I really hate that guy."

"I'd noticed."

"He's trouble, Keith. Trust me on this."

Keith studied him for a few moments, pale eyes cool and appraising. Then he nodded. "Trust, but verify, as they say. For both of you. I'm going to send a request to the Alliance for intel; they were in talks with Sennec before it was attacked, and should know if this Prince Bokar is the real deal. Until then, though..." He turned away. "Show a little restraint and stop provoking him so much."

"Tell him to stop provoking me."

"I highly doubt he's provoking you."

"Sure he is. He's breathing."

Sigh. "I'm going to look into your concerns, Lance, but don't push your luck. Your duty as second is to make my job easier, not harder. If you can't handle that..."

Lance grimaced. Here he'd thought his duty as second was to raise issues his boss might not have noticed or thought of. Oh, and to occasionally kick ass on his behalf. "If you're looking for a yes man you may as well promote someone else, chief. Sven wouldn't have taken this crap from you, and I'm sure as all the hells not going to."

At the mention of Sven, Keith stiffened even more than he'd already been frozen up from his new second's criticism. He just stood there for a solid minute, silent, and then the tension slowly began to drain away. "...Yeah. You're right." Another sigh. "Sorry, Lance. I just..."

"I know. You're lost without him, and you don't think I'm much of a substitute. But I could've told you that to begin with. Actually I'm pretty sure I did tell you that to begin with, but you asked for it and now you're getting it."

Wince. "True enough. And I still mean what I said at the time. I need you to do this. Even if both of us hate it, I need you to do this."

Even if both of us hate it? Yeah, fair enough. Lance stepped forward and touched his arm. "Didn't say I was quitting. Don't worry, Keith. I'll be a pain in your ass no matter what title you're giving me, so I guess you may as well keep me your official pain in the ass, huh?"

His friend actually chuckled. "I suppose so."


"This Sennecite warp tech is interesting," Hunk commented as he poked around inside the wrecked shuttle's engine. "Kinda brilliant, actually. Super high-efficiency solar converters, low energy demand. Can't hit very high speeds, but oughta be able to go pretty much indefinitely without having to land. Explains how he's been sneaking around the Denubian this long."

Pidge made a vague noise of acknowledgment; he was attempting to fix one of the oddly hinged ailerons by looking at the one on the other wing, which meant he was spending more time running circles around the ship than actually doing work. They probably shouldn't have reattached the severed wing until they'd completely fixed it, but at the time keeping the craft balanced had seemed more important.

Hindsight being what it was, and all.

"You wanna call a couple of the mice in, little buddy? Might be easier than doing laps."

"Yeah, might." His tone was distant, and he didn't actually look up from the dented hinge he was filing. The words had not registered in the least.

Hunk sighed. No sense trying to get through to Pidge when he was in the zone. "Have it your way." Returning his attention to the engine, he was distracted a few moments later by the faint clicking of metal claws on concrete. "Hey, speak of the devil! ...In more ways than one," he added when the reddish glow of the newcomer's eyes became visible.

A muffled squeak answered him and Pepper Jack trotted fully into view, steel incisors clamped tightly around something thin and green that was trailing two feet behind him. It was enough to get Pidge's attention, even. "Is that seriously...?"

The mouse laid the dead cobra at Pidge's feet and chittered proudly.

Both engineers just gave him a blank stare for a minute. Of course the robot rodents could be a little bit eccentric at times, but hunting the local wildlife? That seemed extreme. "O... kay." Hunk moved forward and took the snake, since his companion was still just gawking at it like he'd never seen such a thing in his life. Which, in fairness, he probably hadn't. "Don'tcha know snakes eat mice, Pepper Jack? Don't go tempting fate."

The mouse gave a series of indignant squeaks, and Pidge giggled. "Yeah, that's true."

"What'd he say?"

"He said he's made out of metal."

"Yeah, well. So's Blue, doesn't stop her from lookin' like a rodent Terminator these days."

"What's a rodent terminator? Is that a kind of snake too?"

"...Are you serious?" Sometimes Hunk still forgot how truly under-educated about such important things his little friend was. "The Terminator movies are ancient classics, Pidge. We're gonna have to fix this gaping hole in your life."

"Yeah, remember how we're in another galaxy? I'm sure Keith won't give us any odd looks when we try to requisition old movies from the Alliance."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt us. Smuggle 'em in with those wristcomps you've been threatening to call in for a month."

"Too late. Shipment's on its way. I sent the request last week, it seemed like we could do with some form of personal comms after... uh... you know."

Hunk knew. Good point. Nodding his understanding, he returned his attention to the snake before they had to elaborate on the subject.

Reptiles weren't really something he knew a lot about. Birds he was good with; despite his best efforts to ignore his brothers when they got started, quite a lot had seeped into his brain through proximity. Snakes? Forget it. The best he could do was say if certain campsites on Earth had any poisonous ones nearby or not. Maybe all snakes were like this, but he couldn't help thinking...

The cobra Pepper Jack had dragged in seemed a little evil-looking.

"It doesn't make sense, though," Pidge was frowning, looking at the snake again also. "The mice almost never leave the castle on their own. And if we've got snakes in the castle, we have really messed something up."

Another good point. Though there were several areas inside the castle that were still half-scorched stretches of gaping emptiness—not much point repairing rooms nobody would be using—they had sealed up the outside quite thoroughly. Things from out there should not be in here. Especially not snaky things with no arms or legs that definitely couldn't climb up the walls the way the metal mice could.

"So where'd you find this, little dude?"

With a squeak and a twitch of his tail, Pepper Jack signaled for them to follow. Exchanging a shrug with Pidge, Hunk figured this was higher priority right now. Cobra infestations were bad news. The shuttle could wait.


The tour of the castle had finished in relative silence; Prince Bokar had seemed nervous, perhaps even slightly ashamed, and taken in everything wordlessly as Allura showed him around. She could understand that, though she didn't find it terribly necessary. Sparring was sparring. The princess herself had some bruises in rather un-ladylike places from her combat training, it just went with the territory, didn't it?

A storm was gathering outside, and she moved to the nearest observation deck to watch the clouds building a layer of shadow in the sky. She'd been there for probably five minutes when footsteps approached, along with a faint aura of unease that she'd quickly come to recognize.

"Princess?"

She motioned vaguely for Bokar to approach. "What's wrong?" No need to bother asking if something was wrong. Right after asking it she remembered that some people found that unnerving, but if the prince was bothered by the presumption he didn't comment on it.

"I was meaning to apologize," he explained. "I didn't mean to cause such a scene with your warrior, I got carried away."

Allura nodded. "It's alright. Sometimes Lance needs to be reminded of his own limitations. I'd much rather it be from you than from some warship or robeast in real combat..." She grimaced and returned her gaze to the sky.

"May I join you?"

"Of course." She moved aside, giving him space to lean on the railing next to her, and watched his violet eyes drift out over the desert. He looked troubled. "Is something wrong?"

"Just remembering. Your sands here are beautiful... Sennec was a desert world." Sigh. "Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say it is a desert world, but it's difficult to think of it in the present tense, with my people gone and Drules crawling all over the surface."

That made sense. Painfully so. "I understand. Even here I sometimes find myself thinking of two different planets. The Arus that is, and the Arus that was."

Bokar nodded, giving a soft hiss of sympathy. "Your world is remarkable, Princess Allura. I've never heard of a planet razed by the Drules bouncing back so quickly, and it's said so few recover at all."

His words brought a wince. It must look so wonderful from the outside. Arus rebuilding, the people so hopeful and unbroken. Not knowing the tenuous state their guardian was in. "I only hope it remains that way when the Drules return."

"Indeed? It sounds like you've been holding out easily."

"So far, yes, but you've arrived at a time of... transition. You saw the lions."

"Yes. Formidable machines."

"Much more than machines. They're wise and mystical; they have their own souls. And when the battle becomes desperate they can combine to form a knight far more powerful than the sum of its parts. A knight named Voltron."

She thought she felt a slight flicker in Bokar's aura. He mostly carried an air of tentative curiosity; the princess imagined she would feel the same way if she were a refugee on an alien world. As she mentioned Voltron something seemed to shake him, something she couldn't sense and place quickly enough. Surprise, most likely. It was a startling truth.

"So this... Voltron... is what has protected your world from the Ninth Kingdom's forces?"

"Yes. So far." Sigh. "We lost Blue Lion's pilot last week—the pilot the lion was properly bound to, I mean. I've been trying to fill in for him, but it isn't working out very well. The lion... doesn't like me." She waited that out for a few moments, letting his mind wrap around the concept, then continued. "I haven't been able to help form Voltron. And the lions are powerful on their own, but we need Voltron to keep holding out."

He considered that for a long moment. "It's difficult to grasp what you're saying. The idea of a spacecraft being sentient, I mean." He looked from the sand to the gathering clouds. "But surely the lion will come to its senses soon, will it not?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. I don't even know what it wants from me." She shook her head, then gave Bokar a sharp look. The exiled prince was looking for a sanctuary, he'd said. A home, perhaps. And he must hate the Drules as much as any of them, if not more. She wondered... "Maybe I'm being selfish, thinking I'm the only person who can do this job. Maybe if I fail Blue would accept someone else more easily."

The prince frowned. "Forgive my presumption, but with that determination in your voice... I can't see how you could possibly fail."

Determination. Yes, she could certainly master that, but she didn't seem to be able to show much else to the lion that was so harshly judging her. "I appreciate that, Prince Bokar, but I wish I could be as confident as you are." She gave him a sidelong look. "If things continue to go so badly for me, would you be willing... to let me introduce the two of you?"

He pulled back. Startled, but also something else, something too fleeting for her to identify. "I... I'm not much of a pilot, Princess, to be quite honest. But if you feel that is best, after the way your world has welcomed me, of course I would make the attempt."

Allura nodded. "Thank you. I'm not ready to give up yet, but... I feel better knowing that someone else will be there if I fail." She hated being so pessimistic, really. But with the way things had gone so far, the specter of failure simply refused to leave her thoughts.

They watched the storm continue to gather in silence.


During formal audiences, the throne room was empty of courtiers and observers. The formality and decorum were signs of respect between the king and whichever subject he was deigning to meet with personally; they were not for the benefit of any onlookers. And often such audiences involved quite sensitive topics that were the business of no other.

A side effect of this arrangement was that in the few minutes after formal audiences ended, the room remained mostly empty as the usual denizens slowly trickled back in. Zarkon liked these moments of relative quiet and privacy; there were days he really wanted to just clear the room and leave himself. The formal duties of his position never gave him much pleasure.

Sometimes he'd rather have been commanding a fleet again.

Today his chief advisor was very late in returning to her place at his side. He envied her for that freedom, but also knew she was hardly out conducting leisure activities. Perhaps she was consulting with Sarga, or something else may have come up...

As he was contemplating Haggar's absence she appeared before him, with Coba at her side. "Sire. The serpent's first report is in." She was turning a comm crystal over slowly in her fingers, studying its glittering surface. "He has given us the answers we sought."

"So quickly?"

The witch nodded. "The human I defeated was apparently the pilot of Blue Lion, and they do refer to him as being lost. The princess of Arus has begun to fly Blue Lion in his place." Her eyes glowed softly. "But she has not found the Destroyer's favor. While she is capable of piloting the lion itself, she cannot form Voltron. The knight remains out of commission."

Well. That was most interesting. "This situation is expected to continue?"

"The princess herself seems to feel it will." A pause. "They have accepted the serpent easily, very easily. He reports that he has been asked to take the Blue Lion if its new pilot cannot find the favor of the Destroyer soon. I must suggest we at least consider this option."

Zarkon frowned. Given what Haggar had said before about re-weaving fate, he very much doubted their spy could ever be so worthy; the serpent was pretty much a craven fool. Then again, the king still didn't much believe in destiny. "What good would that do?"

"If a pilot in our service were to be accepted, even a single lion would be a powerful addition to our armada. You've seen their strength."

True enough. But the mere thought made his guts coil with disgust, not to mention the idea of any part of the hated Voltron bowing to Sarga's faithful seemed very unlikely indeed. Drules of the Ninth Kingdom fighting alongside lions? Preposterous. "No." He spoke with finality. "I have no interest in such a demon serving us, Haggar. If our spy is able to take control of one, it will be only to fly it to an incinerator."

"Of course, sire." The witch bowed. "It was merely a suggestion. In that case, I suggest we act on this information as quickly as possible, lest the princess succeed in gaining the Blue Lion's trust."

"Indeed. Before I send a force to Arus, is there any more to the report?"

"Only general observations of the humans. He is unimpressed by their discipline, but says they are skilled and very close. The loss of Blue Lion's pilot has clearly affected them, though of course he cannot say how the team functioned before." She offered him the crystal. "The full report is here. Aside from the lions and the castle's turrets, he is unaware of any other major defenses on Arus." After a hesitation she added, eyes dimming slightly in a curious frown, "However, as a caution to any ground forces we may wish to send, the castle also seems to be infested with metal mice which can engage in combat."

Metal mice? Weren't metal lions bad enough? "Forget about ground troops. The more I hear about this planet, the happier I'll be when everything on it is reduced to ash from above." Coba yowled, and the king chuckled. "Or perhaps we should capture the mice for your cat to play with?"

"Myaak-ak-ak," the cat said as if it actually understood his words. "Mraow!"

Haggar's eyes widened, and she traced one twisted finger along the golden scar on her familiar's forehead. "It seems Coba has seen these mice before," she said softly. "Yes, indeed, my pet... you'll have your revenge as well, won't you?"

"Myaaow!"

Zarkon studied the cat for a moment and decided not to even ask. "Go relay new orders to the serpent. He's to remain in place until the lions are destroyed; the fleet will extract him before opening fire on the castle." A flicker in his eyes. The serpent was a particularly insufferable specimen of vermin, and his usefulness to the Ninth Kingdom was nearly at an end. "Or perhaps it won't."

The witch understood, nodding as she turned away. "Of course, sire."


The team had gathered in castle control with the intention of getting another training run in, but things had changed when the engineers showed up with a mouse and its bizarre prey.

"Pepper Jack brought it in," Hunk was explaining, as the group studied the dead cobra laid out on one of the consoles. The red-eyed mouse gave a satisfied squeak. Nanny looked pale, Coran looked concerned, and Allura was staring at the creature with a deeply thoughtful expression. "We asked him where he found it and he took us to one of the air vents."

Bokar swallowed; he looked about as pale as Nanny as he examined the snake. Keith noted that with mild interest. "Did you find any others?" The prince's voice was slightly nervous.

"Nah, but we didn't look too far. We'd have to go through the vents, and even Pidge isn't quite that tiny. We've got the other mice scouting for any entry points though, shouldn't be any way for snakes to get in here. Not unless they can climb walls."

"What's the matter, Prince Bokar?" Lance asked in a tone that was just on the border between playful and mocking. "Surely you're not scared of slimy slithery things?" The question got him a scowl from the prince and an elbow from his commander.

"Hey now. Even I'm scared of slimy slithery poisonous things in our air vents," Pidge commented lightly, which ended that train of conversation before it could really go anywhere. The commander gave him a grateful look which was studiously ignored.

On the one hand, the whole team dwelling on some rogue wildlife struck Keith as a little bit of a waste of time. On the other, Hunk was right. There should be no way for such creatures to get into the castle, and if dumb animals could do it, it was only a matter of time before the Drules figured it out also... Lance had mentioned Haggar using a cat to help her ambush last week, after all. But until the mice found how the snake had gotten in, there was very little they could do about it, regardless.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Coran." Allura spoke slowly, as if she were still putting the thoughts together inside her own mind. "But I didn't think there were any snakes native to this continent."

The advisor shook his head. "No, that's entirely correct. And so far as I know, there are no species of cobra native to Arus at all."

...Oh. Well that threw a whole new wrench into things. Still little they could do until the mice found the hole, but suddenly he didn't want to leave the castle unprotected. But this couldn't put a halt to everything... "Okay. Lance and I will go out with Allura. Hunk, Pidge, I'm leaving you two in here to find the breach. Report anything suspicious and protect the castle with your lives."

Pidge saluted him with a throwing star; Hunk pushed Pepper Jack toward the nearest vent.

Prince Bokar still looked uneasy, but Keith could hardly blame him. Some mad sanctuary Arus was turning out to be. But at least, whatever the Drules were up to, they were onto it now. As long as they could stay a step ahead of things they had hope.


"My lord." Yurak appeared in the throne room much more quietly than the last time he'd been here. Subdued, almost. Zarkon had been about to summon him anyway, and studied his warrior with interest as he knelt before the throne. "I have a request."

Frown. What this time? Yurak only made requests when he was plotting something unconventional, often desperate. Like assassinations, and that hadn't gone according to plan at all.

He knew the admiral's patience had been wearing thin as his battles against Voltron saw nothing but failure after failure, and the debacle with the Blue Lion's pilot was nearly the last straw. Truthfully, the thought of pulling him off the assignment had occurred to the king more than once. Rage and frustration might be clouding his greatest commander's abilities; perhaps it was time for new steel to take on the task.

But Yurak had earned the respect he was given, earned it through hundreds of victories and his own blood. He deserved this last chance. And whatever favor he might wish to ask, Zarkon could at least hear it out. "I'm listening."

"I wish to face Voltron on the field of battle... on equal footing. Personally."

Interesting idea. Implausible, but interesting. He cocked his head, eyes narrowing. "Admiral, the only way to grant that request would be to have you transformed into a robeast."

"Yes, lord."

All the air seemed to be sucked out of the throne room for an instant, as gasps of disbelief rippled through the petty nobles gathered there. Zarkon suppressed any physical reaction, but he shared the sentiment, and if he'd had a little less self control his shock would have been just as audible as anyone else's.

For a minute he wasn't even sure he'd correctly comprehended what he'd heard. The idea was absurd—so absurd it couldn't simply be heard as the clear request it was. Robeasts were weapons, tools, beasts of burden at their greatest. Drules did not undergo such transformations except as a truly egregious punishment. The process was meant for lesser creatures. Yurak may have suffered many setbacks since Voltron had awakened on Arus, but he was certainly no lesser creature. And if he was turned into a robeast, his formidable command skills could be lost—an outcome the king did not much care for.

Besides, he hadn't heard the latest reports yet. "This is unnecessary, Admiral. Our spy has informed us that while all of the lions are active, they cannot combine into Voltron."

The admiral considered this for a few seconds. "Permit me to speak bluntly, my lord."

"Of course."

"I've no faith in anything we hear from spies, the witch, or the humans themselves. Voltron's come up with too many miracles already."

He had a fair point there, really. Zarkon laced his fingers together, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose I can't dispute your outlook. But what good will turning you into a robeast serve? As fine a warrior as you are, dueling isn't your specialty. There are many others better suited to such a task."

"Others who might fight with more skill, but skill isn't what's needed right now." Yurak shook his head. "My warriors are terrified, lord. They cower before the demon, they let the old legends cloud their better judgment. I've been struggling against my own troops nearly as much as I've been fighting the lion knight! This mess with the fallen pilot has only doubled their fear of the myths; one more setback and they may break completely. Even if we destroy the lions they won't believe they're truly gone."

"That seems to merely call for a reassignment."

"No! You can't imagine any other fleet will fare differently." The admiral's ocular implant glowed brightly for a moment. "Someone has to set an example. It isn't enough to tell them the truth, they have to see the truth. So let me fight. Let me rip the fear of damnation from the devil's arsenal, and all else will follow."

The admiral was determined to carry this out. Perhaps too determined, but then, Zarkon could hardly blame him for his persistence. After all the defeats he'd suffered, the many ships and warriors he'd lost, the mere thought of personally avenging his fleet must be attractive. Never mind his stated reasoning, which was sound, if pessimistic. Too pessimistic. "I will consider this course of action. Go to Haggar. You may consult with her on the matter for now, but no more."

"As you command, lord." Yurak bowed and left.

Zarkon watched him go, decision already made. No. This would not be permitted... yet. But one more miracle out of Voltron, and his opinion might change. And he realized he fully expected such a miracle to occur, though he was furious at himself for the thought.

Yes, the lion god was taking its toll on all of them...

Snarling, he stood and glowered at those assembled in the throne room. "Get out of here, all of you," he growled at the courtiers, who looked at him for less than a second before realizing precisely how much business he meant. Within half a minute the room was clear, and the king bared his fangs in a slight, gratified smile. Decorum and the duties of royalty were all well and good, but when the lord of Korrinoth demanded solitude, who would dare argue? Anything he wished was his.

Except Arus. Except Voltron broken before him. But that would come in time.

Leaving his scepter on the throne Zarkon headed for the depths of Nightstone Fortress, the military's domain. It had been a long time since he'd tested his skills, even on simulators. Much too long. Perhaps a few rounds there would ease his mind.