familiar
chapter ten

When Lance had been younger, maybe twenty or thirty Aestusi sols, a storm had ravaged the seas of his home. He remembered feeling the first shift, how the waters had moved differently; remembered his mother taking his hand and diving into the depths, fish swimming frantically around them; remembered looking back and thinking about how beautiful the storm seemed, the last rays of sun caught in the tumbling waves.

It was the moment before the storm that Lance remembered most clearly.

First had been the quiet.

The wind that had been blowing around his shoulders and through his hair suddenly went still. He'd tasted the warm air and wondered if that was what electricity tasted like.

In the distance, he'd heard a low rumbling, the beginnings of a thunderstorm.

That memory was one he carried with him – the way the world had seemed to still for just a moment, that feeling of being on the verge of something great and terrible, how the storm had swallowed the sea.

"Hold on, Lance."

Lance felt like he was caught in that feeling, trapped in an endless loop with no way out. On the horizon, the storm gathered, but Lance couldn't quite see it.

"—you… hear me?"

"…hurt…"

The sound of voices rose and fell like waves; Lance wondered if he was underwater, the sound distant and echoing.

"…Lance… he— pod now!"

"—crystal—"

There was something important he was forgetting.

Lance wanted to drift, wanted to sink into the inviting waters of his mind, but something kept him awake.

"Coran, we… the.."

Coran.

Protect. Protect.

It came back to Lance in pieces, like he was collecting bits of broken shells and holding them in his hands, hoping they wouldn't slip between his fingers.

The Arusians. The celebration. Coran. Rover. The crystal.

It was a trap – had to be. There was something bigger looming behind it all, someone who was holding all the cards and was dealing them out slowly.

"We should split up."

Lance groaned.

"Nn…"

The sound dipped for a moment. Lance was suddenly aware of a cool, gentle hand on his forehead; he leaned into the touch, sighing.

"..nce? Lance?"

He groaned again; his thoughts fled from him then, slipping away.

"Hold on, Lance… gonna be okay—"

Uadsty hovered over him, their face pinched in worry. A hand pressed down on his shoulder; underneath it was blood, seeping through his armor.

"You're gonna be fine," they continued.

Lance choked out a laugh, even if it hurt. "I'm always fine."

"Oh, shut up," Uadsty said, then turned their attention away from him for a moment to scan the surroundings.

"Any sign of… well, anything?"

Uadsty's fingers dug into his shoulder.

"…No," they finally said. Lance's heart sank in his chest. Help wasn't coming, and here they were, stranded in enemy territory. And though Lance hated to admit it, he knew he wasn't doing too good.

"We need to move." The strength in his own voice surprised him, but Lance gritted his teeth against the pain. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, fire erupting across his shoulder.

"Lance," Uadsty said, but they helped him. "Let me bind your wound first."

"No time," said Lance.

"Too bad," replied Uadsty, holding him in place with one hand and deftly pulling at his armor with the other. They tore off a part of his sleeve to use and wrapped his shoulder tightly; Lance turned away, biting down on his lip hard to keep himself from crying out.

In the distance, a howl tore through the air, followed by several more. The sound sent shivers racing up Lance's spine.

"Come on," Uadsty said. "Can you walk?"

"It's my shoulder that's hurt, Uadsty, not my legs," Lance said, but his knees buckled when he tried to stand. Uadsty caught him, wrapping an arm around him to brace him.

"Okay?"

"Yeah," Lance said, taking a few hesitant steps forward like he was a child learning to walk.

Not for the first time, Lance wished Blue was here with them, if not for the help then for the company. But the Sllaluris had insisted – no Lions or no alliance. Alfor had tentatively ordered for them to leave their Lions, as much as they'd protested.

They'd had their bayards, of course, and they were good fighters – but against an army, taken by surprise, even the great paladins of Voltron hadn't stood a chance.

"We need to get to higher ground," Uadsty said. They took a few more steps together, Lance feeling dizzy as they moved forward.

They trudged up the hill together. Lance kept glancing over his shoulder, but there was no sign of their pursuers.

Then the first Sllaluri burst through the trees. Lance locked eyes with it – the Sllaluris chasing them had shifted into terrible, wolf-like creatures. They were easily the size of a small fighter pod, dark in color and with five legs each.

"Oh, befir," Lance swore. "Why is it always me?"

"Shut up and run," said Uadsty, turning and extending their bayard into a whip.

"And leave you?" Lance asked, gripping his own bayard. "If anything, you should leave me. I'm slowing you down."

He always seemed to be— the weak link…

And yet no one had ever left him behind, not once. Lance stumbled back a few steps, extending his bayard, too. His shoulder and arm burned with the effort of holding it; the weapon shook in his hands, and Lance knew then that he wouldn't be able to fight.

"Go, Lance," Uadsty said.

"No," said Lance. "I told you I wasn't leaving."

"Change of plans. Come on," Uadsty yelled, changing directions. They grabbed Lance's wrist and began pulling him along, the two of them running. Lance stumbled, gasping as pain danced across his shoulder, but he kept going.

"Ah, the old-fashioned running for our lives," Lance panted. "Nothing beats that."

"The flight zone," said Uadsty. "We just need to get there."

They'd planned it out beforehand. If anything went wrong, they'd meet there and take off – a precaution, Zarkon had said, his gaze distrustful.

Lance hooked his bayard at his side, knowing he wouldn't be able to use it. They stumbled through the forage, the prey of hunters who had the upper hand.

"Right," Lance said. "Flight zone. Okay."

In the distance, Lance could make out the tall, blue spires of the Sllaluri castle – they were getting closer.

A blinding pain swept through his arm; Lance cried out, gripping it as he missed a step and fell over. Uadsty didn't hesitate. They slung him over their shoulder, bracing him with a hand.

"I'll slow you down," Lance protested. Uadsty ignored him. "Let me go. I can—"

"Can what? Ditch me like the self-sacrificing idiot you are? Not a chance, Talin."

Lance winced. Uadsty only ever called him Talin when they were serious.

"Getting closer," Uadsty said. The castle was bigger now, and right in front of them was the flight zone, a large square equipped with towers and staff meant to make flight on and off Sllaluria easy.

Lance had to crane his neck to see, but he spotted two figures fighting back-to-back in the flight zone. Am'lei and Elolith.

He turned back to see a Sllaluri leap over their heads and land in front of them, snarling. Behind them, a pack slunk out, growling.

"Drop me," Lance commanded, and Uadsty didn't argue. He twisted so he could land in a crouch on the ground.
Uadsty stood over him, whip dragging in the grass. They moved when the Sllaluri who'd cut them off did, the whip wrapping around its throat and sending it flying.

One down, a lot more to go.

"Lance," someone hollered. A tick later, Am'lei was next to them, standing in front of Lance protectively.

"Get Lance," Uadsty said. "He's hurt."

They brandished their whip threateningly.

Am'lei dropped to his side. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, turning it so she could see. He hissed when her fingers ran over the makeshift bandage lightly, already soaked through.

"Anam," she said, voice soft.

"Anam," he responded, turning his face away so she wouldn't see the grimace.

"Let me take it," she murmured, helping him up.

"No," Lance said, but she'd taken some of his pain, wincing.

"Zarkon's waiting—"

"Lance," a voice muttered, breath ghosting across his ear. "I'm sorry, Lance."

"—for us. He's been circling and evading ships for a while now until we could regroup."

Sure enough, a fighter pod was zipping above their heads. Zarkon couldn't land, Lance realized, not before he was shot down, so in the air he stayed.

"Come on," Am'lei said.

"We'll hold them off," Elolith said, appearing out of nowhere and firing off a few rounds. Something crackled in Lance's ears; it seemed like their comms signal was still jammed.

Am'lei lifted her arms above her head and waved wildly, signaling to Zarkon. It was time to go.

A kind of dull, terrible pain swept through him. Lance's head pounded; his mouth felt dry and fuzzy, like someone had stuffed cloth in it. He tried to open his eyes but found he couldn't.

"Lance?"

He was drifting by the time Zarkon managed to get low enough so they could all get on board.

"Lance, you need to stay with me, okay? Stay with me, buddy."

"Stay awake, Lance."

"Can't," he mumbled. Am'lei pressed a cool hand to his cheek.

"Please?" she asked. "For me?"

There was something cold under him; Lance shivered and then moaned when the movement sent pain racing through every part of his body.

A hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Lance," he heard, the words distant. "Help's on the way, okay?"

"H– he…" he tried to say.

The hand squeezed comfortingly. "Hunk and Coran are getting a crystal. The Castle will be back online in no time, and we'll get you in a pod and healing in no time."

Crystal. The fragments of his thoughts came together again.

"N-no," he groaned.

"Shh," said Shiro. A comforting hand passed through his hair. "You're safe. It's okay, Lance, I've got you."

The fighter pod shook. Am'lei grabbed him and threw herself around him, holding on as the pod spun. Around them, red lights flashed; Lance blinked at the scene tiredly.

"No," Zarkon growled, slamming the controls. He cast a look back towards Lance.

"Fire back!"

"No time," Am'lei spoke up. "We need to get out of here."

Lance blinked. Once. Twice.

The light was blinding. He immediately snapped his eyes shut; pain danced behind them.

"This is Zarkon reporting to the Castle. Can you hear me?"

They all waited several moments, Zarkon evading the ships that were following them with ease. He weaved through the clouds, laserfire on their tail.

Elolith pressed the comms button again, opening the channel.

"This is Elolith," she said. "Can anyone hear me?"

"…lith, hear…"

Elolith leaned forward. "Hello?"

"Elolith, report."

"We need backup. We're being chased by several enemy ships, and the pod is damaged but still functional. Lance– Lance is hurt. The wound isn't bad, but he's lost a lot of blood."

Am'lei touched his face. "It's gonna be okay."

He leaned on her, burying his face in the crook of her neck and whining when her armor brushed his wound.

"Am'lei…"

"Champion."

He didn't know that voice. Lance shifted, hissing, but managed to crack open his eyes just enough to make out a Galran commander – Sendak.

He towered over Shiro, face set in a snarl. His cybernetic eye glowed a menacing red, trained on Shiro's face.

"Sh…"

Shiro didn't even look at him. He had his back facing Lance – guarding him. His arm glowed as he raised it in defense.

"Sendak."

"Step aside, Champion."

"You're not getting past me," Shiro said, taking a step forward. "This isn't your Castle, Sendak."

"Ah," the commander laughed. "But it isn't yours, either. And by the end of the night, it will belong to Emperor Zarkon."

The fight began so fast that Lance had a hard time keeping up. His head hurt every time he blinked. Shiro met Sendak blow for blow, keeping up well enough, but Sendak's prosthetic was more advanced.

He tossed Shiro back. The paladin landed on his feet, bracing himself against the ground, but Sendak had already moved.

Lance was so focused on the fight that he didn't notice the other Galra soldier until he was right in front of him.

"Perfect."

He dug his claws around Lance's armor and pulled him upright, his other hand holding him in place. Lance wailed, jerking as pain like liquid fire poured through him.

Close by, Shiro and Sendak were locked in a stalemate, prosthetics gleaming at each others' throats.

"Let him go," the Galran holding him said. Shiro jerked in surprise, eyes darting over to them. He paled at the sight.

"Let him go," he said again. "Or your friend here gets it."

"Lance!"

"Shi…ro, don't–"

"Lance," Shiro said, eyes wide.

The Galran dug his claws into the soft skin of Lance's throat, drawing blood. Lance gritted his teeth, trying to turn his face away, but he couldn't.

"Don't…"

Shiro lowered his arm.

The moment he did, Sendak struck. Lance cried out when Shiro crumpled to the ground.

"Bring him," ordered Sendak, nodding in Lance's direction but not looking at him.

"Yes, sir," the soldier said.

Sendak turned, a grin on his face. In the soldier's grip, Lance shuddered.

"Voltron is ours."

Though Lance didn't want to be, he was wide-awake. Now that he'd been dragged back into consciousness, there was no going back. Pain kept him awake.

"Hook it up," Sendak ordered.

Lance watched in horror as a large crystal was dragged out, a perfect size to power the Castle. It wasn't Balmeran, though – well, not as far as Lance could tell. This one was purple; darkness seeped in it where light should have been reflected.

He looked around. There was little left of the crystal the Castle had been running off of before; only shards here and there remained, glimmering in the light.

A screen appeared, and Sendak stepped forward, putting his hand on it.

A view of the hangar was pulled up – the Lions were all locked in their bays, every one of them. Lance bit down on his lip when he saw Blue, her particle barrier up but her eyes dim.

He was too tired to reach out to her, too lost in his pain to try.

"Raising particle barrier," Sendak commanded, and the screen blinked. Lance went limp as the shields around the Castle went up; Sendak waved a hand, and views from every inch of the Castle and around it sprung up.

"Begin launch sequence."

"What's this?" Sendak crooned, his cybernetic eye whizzing as he looked at one of the camera's views. He tapped on it, enlarging it, and Lance's heart sank even lower in his chest.

"No…"

Keith and Allura were just outside the entrance. Lance could see their mouths moving, but there was no sound.

Keith yelled something, banging on the particle barrier.

"Keith…" he murmured, as if the other paladin could hear him. "Keith, there's no use."

Allura wrenched him backwards, her hand tight on his shoulder. She said something fiercely, and he seemed to calm a little.

Then Allura stared straight up at the screen unflinchingly. The look in her eyes was, in a word, scary. She spat out a threat; even Sendak took a step back, but he kept silent.

Allura said something, but Sendak closed the view.

"Make contact with Emperor Zarkon," he ordered. "Now, Haxus!"

"Ah," Haxus said, strolling over to the control panel and hovering over them. "Yes, sir."

Lance slumped on the floor, unable to move. Haxus had bound his hands together while he'd been distracted – not that Lance was much of a threat, anyway. Shiro groaned next to him but didn't wake.

Zarkon.

He hadn't seen Zarkon in— in…

"No," he whispered.

"Sendak."

Zarkon's voice filled the room, low and gravelly. A moment later, he appeared on the screen, and Lance squeezed his eyes shut.

His voice was the same, but he looked different. Older. His face was thinner, sunken-in; gone was the fur that had covered his jaw. He didn't look Galran at all – instead, he looked almost reptilian.

And his eyes…

They weren't yellow, like the others' – Zarkon's were a deep, glowing purple.

What had they become, the two of them? Both of them had changed deeply – there was no going back to the way things had once been, as much as Lance wanted them to.

His chest ached. This was barely Zarkon at all.

"My mission is complete," Sendak reported. "I've captured the Altean Castle and the Voltron Lions – and even two paladins, to be brought back as prisoners."

Zarkon didn't smile – he rarely did.

"This is most pleasing," he said. "Which paladins?"

Sendak glanced back at them; Lance screwed his eyes shut, turning away.

"Black, Your Majesty," he said. "And Blue."

Zarkon nodded, the look in his eyes calculating. He laughed then, but there was no humor in it.

"The Champion… and the Blue Paladin," he mused. "It's been millennia since I have encountered a Blue Paladin. The last one… such a shame. I would have welcomed him as a brother."

Lance bowed his head, curling up as best he could with the restraints, even though it hurt like hell. He cried then, biting down on his lip to muffle the sound.

On the screen, Zarkon's hand drifted towards the right side of his face, though he didn't realize he was doing it. A scar cut down from his eye towards his jaw, ending just below his mouth.

Lance had given him that.

"I'm preparing for launch," said Sendak. "Voltron will be yours."

"Very good," Zarkon said softly. "You have done your emperor a great duty. Vrepit sa."

Sendak saluted.

"Vrepit sa."

The transmission ended. Lance closed his eyes bitterly, hoping desperately that this was all some sort of fever dream, but he knew it wasn't.

"Haxus. Prepare the Castle for takeoff."

Haxus smiled. "Yes, Commander."

As Haxus left, Sendak placed a hand on the lock screen; it scanned his hand, blue light filtering between his fingers. All around Lance, the Castle began to change. The inviting blue lights darkened, turning a reddish-purple color and giving the halls a menacing glow. The Galra symbol appeared; across the screen scrolled two familiar words.

VREPIT SA.

The hope in his chest flickered and then went out completely, a candle that had been caught in the wind.

The Castle of the Lions had fallen.