Another! Sorry they've been kinda short but hey, more updates! Enjoy!
It took a few seconds for Lance to clue into what was happening. Matt, Pidge's brother who Lance didn't really know all that well to be honest had stood up between him and the huge mass of a Galra before them.
"Leave him alone." Matt said, his voice wavering slightly arms outstretched as if to physically block Lance more.
Lance raised his eyebrows at that, that was brave...but also very dumb. He had to get Matt out of here alive, that last detail was very important.
"Matt-" Lance opened his mouth to form some kind of protest when the soldier simply swatted Matt away, sending him stumbling to the far corner of the room. Nothing to injure him but still more force than necessary. The Galra chuckled and actually took a step towards Matt, who by now had regained his balance and was trying his best to look intimidating.
"Know your place." The Galra hissed back.
That got Lance up, anger fueled adrenaline helping him get to his feet somehow.
"Hey, flyin' purple people eater! Don't you have to bring me somewhere? I'll go nicely but only in the next ten ticks. Limited time offer." Lance started towards the door slowly,keeping a close eye on the the Galra soldier, thankfully he growled and turned towards him, leaving Matt alone.
"Lance!" Matt cried out taking a step forwards.
"I'll be okay, Matt." Lance reassured, holding a hand up to signal for him to not fight, a heavy Galra hand landed on his shoulder causing his knees to buckle momentarily as he was pushed out the door. The last thing Lance saw was the crestfallen face of Matt looking at him through the darkness. Lance was sorry but he couldn't let Matt get hurt uselessly. He'd go along with the Galra to an extent if it meant his safety, that's what being a paladin meant. A protector of peace. He had to bring Matt back safe.
Still...this was so not going to be okay.
One foot in front of the other. It was an easy concept but somewhere along the way his body decided to really forget how to do it without conscious thought. Now he had to focus hard on just staying upright, he really wasn't in the mood to be dragged down hallways again. They made it to a door, which swished open, making a sound like Star Trek doors did in the shows. So far from being in space Lance was discovering just how true some things from Star Trek were. Including alien species that just wanted to take over the universe.
How unoriginal.
There was a cloaked figure inside standing beside a small table with restraints hanging and for a moment Lance's heart jumped into his throat, she looked like Haggar.
"Put him there." She said gesturing to the table and Lance relaxed only slightly. It wasn't Haggar, the voice was too soft but it was still some kind of witch that much was for sure. Same white hair, blue skin and crazy yellow eyes. She may not be Haggar but she was definitely close enough.
Lance was pretty sure Haggar was supposed to be the strongest witch out there, hence always being with Zarkon. So this one was going to be at least a little less powerful. A little less powerful then the most powerful wasn't too reassuring in his mind.
Where was his team? How long had it been? He'd love to hear some kind of fighting going on in the hallways. He needed something.
Can she read minds? What was going to happen. He hoped the panic wasn't too obvious on his face.
He was placed on the table in the middle of the room, just long and wide enough for his body to fit. One Galra soldier held him down as the other one strapped him down, the buckles digging into his skin. Lance was really no match for the two of them, he struggled as much as he could, panic invading his head as his limbs fought back but he was too weak, his chest burning with every movement. Soon he was completely restrained, too tight to be comfortable, one strap across his shoulders, the other at his waist and multiple on his legs. He was fortunate nothing was across his abused chest directly but felt oddly exposed as his bare chest was in the open.
It was kinda chilly too.
He figured that was the least of his problems.
The witch didn't say anything, fiddling with something outside his view as the soldiers left the room.
Was he going to get tortured? He wasn't sure he could handle that.
No, he had to. He had to get through this. Had to protect his team. Had to resist whatever was next with all he's got. For the safety of his team, for Voltron, for the entire Universe he had to save. No pressure.
By the time the Haggar lookalike turned around and raised her hands to his head he was as ready as he'd ever be. Her hands touched his temple in what Lance was assuming would be some kind of crazy mind reading witch voodoo when he pushed back with everything he had in his head he pushed back hard at her. It was difficult to explain, it was like making a wall and thrusting the wall forward.
Whatever he did worked, she jerked away as if something had burnt her.
Good.
"Interesting..." She muttered, seemingly pleased.
Not good.
"Not the most common adjective to describe me, usually more along the lines of gorgeous or devilishly handsome but I'll take it. Why don't we just talk things over?" Lance chuckled uneasily. Once again unable to control his nervous mouth. She appeared to not even hear him.
Her hands returned seemingly more cautious, he pushed back again trying to throw her off for the second time but this time his eyes drifted closed unwillingly at the connection. Lance felt resistance, like two walls pushing against each other in the darkness of his mind. Her wall was sharp though, sending tendrils of cracks along his wall. Looks like he wasn't going to win this one. Trying to stop the cracks was futile, he didn't know how to repair them, he wasn't skilled in this crazy kind of stuff he was just winging it here. He was blindly grasping at the wall with his mind trying to do something.
He felt it shatter and it was a horrible feeling that left him feeling way too open and freezing. The cold seeped into his bones and he shook his head trying to get her to let him go. This wasn't right, something was seriously wrong and he could feel her in his head, prodding at memories, searching for things about his team. Her fingers dug in harder, nails scraping against his scalp.
He focused, harder than he ever had in his life. He searched his mind too, determined to gather up memories he could offer that would mean nothing to her. That one time he tried thirty types of ice cream in one day. He thought about each type of ice cream and how he felt about them. He did not like pistachio, yet he would often try it again intermittently every month or so because it was just so popular and he didn't get it. He thought maybe it was an acquired taste and it was an odd color.
He threw that one at her, thinking really hard about it so she couldn't push it away quickly.
Then there was calculus.
He just recited all the formulas he had memorized for school. Lance didn't particularly enjoy calculus but it was necessary to get into pilot school and was a common recurring theme in his classes so he had buckled down and memorized everything. Some of them he couldn't quite remember but those were the gold ones that he could think really hard about to try to re-remember them and he could literally feel the witch getting frustrated as she tried to get around it.
Then was science, lots of formulas there. All the apps on his phone, then every one he'd ever heard of and what they do.
Maybe Lance wasn't so bad at this whole mind control thing.
Next was listing every vegetable, then every fruit. Then of course tomatoes came up and how he would have categorized them. Mushrooms. Which were apparently not a vegetable. Like, Lance knew they were a fungus sure but he didn't know they weren't also a vegetable. It was just a fungus! Fungi? Fungus? Which one was singular for fungus?
Nails tightened on his head but he didn't care.
How much time had past? He could feel her hold on him slipping. That was good.
Colors. He listed every color, every shade of colors he knew and compared them in his mind. How similar they were or how different. Like the differences between fushia and generic pink.
That one was a little harder because the lions were specific colors too and he tried to not think about them but he was pretty sure they flashed in his memory since he could feel the witch push forward excitedly.
Nope. Types of things potatoes could be made into. All the different flavors of chips they could make. Every brand name of chocolate bar.
Aw, man he was hungry.
Brands of clothing, stores in the mall he used to visit. If there was one thing Lance could do it was go off on tangents that could make the most patient person's eye twitch. It was a talent really.
The pushing slowed and dissipated, he could still feel her presence but it felt like she wasn't doing anything. Just sitting there. Resting maybe?
He grew kind of grossed out at that. How could someone just take a break in his own mind? That was super weird. That was his mind, she could rest in her own damn mind.
Lance pushed back, not with a wall like before but more like he was there beside her presence and could reach out to her with his own two hands.
He meant to push her out but he didn't know what he was doing, soon as he made contact everything changed.
The darker comforts of his mind disappeared to be replaced with a bright memory. Long fields stretched out towards hills in the distance, a pond rippled beside him. The floor covered in beautiful pink flowers.
It was a memory, that much Lance could tell from how vivid it was. But it wasn't his.
Someone came into view, a guy. An Altean guy, smiling in Lance's direction as he walked to the pond dipping his fingers into the water.
The vision moved, looking over the pond. It turned down to look into the water.
There, looking through the reflection was an Altean woman. No one Lance had ever seen before, she was beautiful like Allura. She smiled.
This wasn't Lance's memory.
If it wasn't his memory then...
He was jolted back into his mind, the invasion leaving his dizzy as he stared up at the ceiling. He heard something rattle to his right and he tilted his head. The witch stared back at him, yellow eyes wide in fear.
No, he recognized that face, it had changed with time and who knew what else but the general structure was still there. He opened his mouth in disbelief.
The woman from the memory.
"You're Altean?"
That's all for today folks!
I'll write responses with next update to the reviews! Thank you to all that have updated and favorited so far! Let me know how you liked it or didn't lol. Pce out gangstas.