Lance woke up abruptly, wincing at the throbbing of his head. "Ugh." He groaned softly.

He was still in armour, and he could tell that because of his enraged shoulder. Whenever he slept in his armour, on his side, his shoulders hated him because of the pads.

His head rested on cold, hard metal, the rumble of a ship under his ear.

"Red, what the hell... Ascua, where th' fuck's my pillow..?" He murmured, slowly shifting upright...

Only for his arms to pull on chains.

Lance collapsed to the floor with an abrupt grunt, jaw clicking on the metal. "Fuck!" He spat, sitting upright with much more skill.

Wriggling to his knees, then his feet, Lance walked to the door, staring through the slot as he rubbed his jaw on his shoulder. "Hey, fuckers!" He shouted. "Yeah, Galra bitch!" He barked, hearing someone move. "Trae tu puto culo aquí para que pueda vencerlo con un maldito zapato!" Lance shouted, kicking the door a few times for good measure.

It took him around another ten minutes of straight profanities that probably didn't fully make it through the translators, but got the message across anyway.

"Voy a sacarte el bazo del culo y te golpearé con eso, ¡borraré esa maldita sonrisa de tu cara!" Lance spat, taking a step back as finally, someone came to the door.

A Galra, rather skinny looking one with very little fuzz, glared at him with blank yellow eyes.

"...You're awake."

"Oh, the swears didn't tell you that, huh?" Lance snapped. "What, you both deaf and stupid?"

"Shut up, Paladin." The door rang with a few taps from a blaster butt as another, thicker Galra appeared in the slot. "You'll make a fine prize when we bring you back to high command."

"Eat shit and die!" Lance hissed viciously. He was sick of the Galra and their bullshit.

"You'll never escape, Paladin!" The thin one said. "You won't get out of this ship. Your friends aren't coming."

Several more Spanish swears were thrown as they walked away.


Lance had a good grip of time. Spending movements and phoebs in nowhere without any sun to tell him when it was did a good job of teaching him that.

The first quintant, he yelled until his voice broke. Then he lay down for a few vargas. The second one he did the same, but with only one change.

"Where the everloving carajo is Ascua you mother fucks? Give me back my Goddamn cat you assholes!" He shouted, kicking the door. "I swear to fucking Christ, if you hurt her, te voy a cortar y dejaré que Ascua se coma el culo de tu perra!" He screeched. They ignored him.

The third, he went silent, pretending to be broken hearted or even just waiting.

"See Paladin?" The thin one said on the third quintant. "Your friends aren't coming."

He made his move on quintant four.

Thanking every damn star he could see - the ones through the tiny slot in his prison door - he had trained with the Creeminians for flexibility, Lance bent over backward, hooking his feet between his wrists and slowly working the cuffs around his legs, to his front.

"Ok..." He muttered, pulling off his Paladin boot. The Galra hadn't been smart enough to search him, and the piece of metal was still on his foot. The molding key unstuck from his sock with an oddly Velcro-like noise, but he had to practically break his wrist to get it into the lock for the cuffs.

"One university, two university, three university," Lance muttered under his breath, waiting the required 20 ticks for the molding key to do it's dirty work.

When he hit 'twenty university,' Lance turned the key and watched as the cuffs slowly snapped free. "Ohhhkay." He hissed, catching them before they could clang to the floor, and sliding them into his belt just in case.

After that, he crept forward to the door, shifting his weight to search through all possible lines of sight. The guards were gone, just a dark hallway and other cages with... wide spaced, extremely thick bars. He hadn't bothered to notice those before. Stupid. Stupid mistake. Lance thought, growling to himself.

Breathing out, he knelt by the door, looking at the molding key. After molding it into a neat, tear-shaped wedge, he wormed it between the wall and the door, slowly bending it. The magic of whatever the fuck the molding key was made from, was that it didn't break.

You have to cut it using itself. He thought with a smirk.

Lance stood up slowly, wriggling the key deeper in, and working his way up to the lock.

"C'mon. C'mon." He whispered, slowly pushing on it, working it deeper, until he heard the faint grind of the lock.

Lance threw his weight against the door, yanking as the mechanism changed positions.

It made about two feet of space before the massive lock-hook caught on the door with a loud 'clack', making Lance cringe.

Jumping to position his body between the wall and door, Lance slid to the floor, planting his feet on the closing part of the door as he used his back to worm free. Removing the key and putting it in his belt, Lance shoved himself out of the room, barely managing to catch the door before it slammed shut, and using his hands to lower it closed.

After that, he started slowly down the corridor, eyes flicking side to side between the dark and seemingly empty cages, wary of them. The oddest part was, that the bars were big enough for him to slide between if he turned sideways. Some of them larger than that.

What are they for?

Curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped silently toward one of the cages, leaning forward, squinting to see into the deep, inky black of the back corners, when the shadows moved.

In an abrupt uncoiling if scales, red-gold eyes gleaming in the light while shimmering black, pearlescent claws scraped across the floor, a creature rose up, like a Wyvern of myth, wings flaring as much as they could in the confinement, head arching high over his as he stood, paralyzed in fear, while it roared at him.

Now, at the Garrison, they taught some biology lessons, and his teacher, Kent Fraser, liked to talk about instinctive fears, like darkness - where stuff would pounce out at you, things with wide jaws- to take off heads, and other scary stuff. Lance, at the time an idiot foreign boy, was enthralled with morbid curiosity for all sorts of instinctive human fears.

Lance had experienced them in small doses during his time in space, but most of them were being in a battlefield, not anything with teeth and jaws.

Looking back, he realized in a split second that Kent Fraser was an absolute bastard who had never felt instinctive fear a day in his damn life.

Lance screamed at the creature, tripping gracelessly backward over his feet to get away, even as it's massive, claw-tipped wings stretched though the bars to get him, still roaring far louder than he was screaming.

The talons scraped the ground, edging closer to him as he kicked away.

When he was out of its range he lay on the metal flooring, panting heavily as he tried to get to his feet, stared down by furious red eyes. It stood slightly to the side, head cresting high over his, teeth barred slightly.

"Dios..." Lance whispered, hand on his chest as the creature rumbled again. "Carajo, quiznack..." He repeated, brain slowly coming back to him as he struggled upright.

Rage and ferocity lay in the creature's gaze, but behind the forefront emotions lay a glimmer of intelligence.

And confusion.

"Uh..." Lance murmured as it leaned down, to his head level. The creature sniffed at him, and it's gaze softened slightly, questioning. "Ok, ok..." He breathed, reaching for his Bayard that wasn't there.

Which was when he heard the fuzzy asshole guard yelling down the hall. Both his head and the huge creature's swung to the door, Lance momentarily pausing in his scramble to standing.

When he heard footsteps, he panicked, brain briefly blanking. He was still a little rattled from the concussion a few quintants ago.

Something grabbed his foot.

Abruptly, the dragon-thing yanked him back, Lance letting out a startled screech as it did so, trying to stand and run, only for its muzzle to snap shut on the back of his Paladin suit...

And pull him through the bars.

Lance went to fight it, prepared to battle for his life in front of his captors, when the wyvern shoved him behind it, one massive back leg planting itself in front of him.

Three massive talons scraped the ground, wing spreading out to blind him, keep him trapped.

The shouts of the Galran soldiers came loud and abrupt, pale violet-red flashlights illuminating the massive, deeply coloured flesh-fan in front of him, blood vessels snaking through it like a spider's web.

The massive foot stepped forward, the one on the other side sliding back as the dragon-wyvern spread its wings a bit and roared. It sounded louder when he had been in front of him, but now he just stared at the sheer power radiating through this animal's body.

"Ah, it's just Saja, running her lungs again..." One of the soldiers that Lance didn't recognize grumbled after they recovered from the terror of this thing roaring.

"She's mean." The other - fuzzybutt dickwad - said, laughing nervously as they turned together and walked off, the screeches and howls of more of the... wyverns, greeting them.

When the door on the other end of the hall shut, Saja turned around, crowned head cocking as she looked over Lance. Her gold flecked red eyes glittered in the light of the hall, assessing him with a lightning quick flick up and down his body.

"You saved me from being captured again." Lance realized abruptly, still unable to get his brain to want to be closer to her. Her forwardmost fangs were as long as his palm.

Saja made a dull, low rumble, stepping closer to him. She seemed to know he wasn't Galra, but he still could've been prey, considering that her jaw could literally swallow his head whole, along with most of his torso.

"Uh, g-good, Saja..." Lance stammered, holding out a hand, instinctively trying to stop her advance.

Until she nuzzled her entire, huge head, against his hand.

The purr was unexpected. Strange. It felt warm and comforting against his palm, scales like armour that covered her hide. Closer up, he could see her colouration.

Saja's underbelly was a dark cream colour, pearlescent and shimmery. The rest of her though, was a deep, powerful burgundy that was only accented by the golden markings on her sides and back. Her claws and ridge were black, iridescent, and shimmering. The oddest part though, was how the ridge on her spine seemed to skip a section, right over her shoulders.

"...well, you're not too bad..." Lance murmured, until his hand glanced a little close to her jaw and he could feel the teeth.

He moved back to the top of her head as he examined her body.

Nothing but muscle. She was twenty five feet of muscle and predator, but the way she nuzzled into him said she was more like a cat than anything.

"Good girl, Saja..." He murmured nervously as he squeezed around her, moving carefully along the walls, until he could step outside of the cage.

Saja made a confused trill noise when he was out.

"Sorry girl, I gotta go get Red." Lance told her, turning around and going to leave.

Saja whimpered, huge jaws shivering with the sad noise.

Lance stopped in his tracks with a soft groan, turning around and walking over to the cage. "...give me a second." He muttered to the wyvern, examining the keypad.

Using the molding key as a wedge again, Lance pried the panel free and cut the wires, twisting them in that way that he knew they worked.

The cage bars shuddered, slowly grinding upwards, into the rest of the ship.

Saja's massive head came out first, followed by the rest of her body, filling the hallway easily. The others made low shuffling noises, some starting to bark.

The freed beast made a harsh, low hiss noise, which seemed to shut up everyone else. The hall now only had the sound of Saja's tail sweeping the floor, and the click of her claws when she walked.

Her nose pushed Lance toward another cage, where an orange and blue wyvern thing resided, head lifting at Saja's growl.

It was about the same size as Saja, and shone much brighter. Like a labradorite gem.

"...you want me to free them." Lance realized abruptly. Saja rumbled.

Lance weighed his options. On one hand, he helped them escape, and they all got out. On the other, they got captured again.

He sighed, but knelt by the panel. "...Ok."

It took him what felt like vargas, to pry off every panel and free every beast, each one purring at him as his fears of being caught increased with every second.

"Ok, ok ok..." He murmured, going to the last cage. That wyvern was slightly injured, but with a purr from Saja's second in command, they got up. "There, ok. Now what?" Lance asked Saja.

She dropped her wings and upper body, lowering down close to the floor, and looked at him expectantly.

Lance stared, confused, until he noticed that her actions had exposed the section of her back where the sharp ridge of spines were missing. "...got it." The Paladin murmured, and using her leg as a foothold, boosted onto her back.

It took him a minute to realize he was supposed to hold onto two small handles, attached to a leather band on her neck, and position himself so that when she moved, he wouldn't get... sliced in awkward places.

Saja's head reared up the instant he grabbed the handles, and Lance gasped slightly at her motion. She's trained. He realized abruptly. She knew what those handles meant and that it wasn't a Galra behind her, that apparently Lance had been deemed as 'safe'.

Lance gave an experimental pull on the handles, and Saja's head swivelled to the door, the other wyverns clearing her path.

One huge, clawed foot, scraped at the floor like a horse stamping at a race track, waiting for the gun. She was pointed at the door, head lowered and a dull thrum running through her body. He could feel her tension, her patience, her coiled strength.

Lance took a deep breath. They had to get out of here. Saja was going to be his ticket.

He pushed the handles forward, and Saja charged, putting her weight behind that huge, battering ram head and strong shoulders, body tensing as she sprinted.

It was midway through the charge that Lance realized she was aiming for the small door.

However, it was also midway through the wall when Lance realized that it really didn't matter.

Saja's wing-paws hit the now ripped wall to avoid Lance going through the sharp metal, her neck twisting side to side as she roared at something out there. Probably some misfortunate Galra soldiers with no idea what they were dealing with. The whole wall had rattled with her impact.

Her neck twisted to the side, head withdrawing through the huge hole she had punched through the wall and door, and her mouth split in a roar. Her fury at the foolish Galra soldiers who were somewhere on the other side was deafening.

The other wyverns howled behind her as Saja's claws hooked into the metal and tore it open, her huge wings clattering against the shredded edges as she twisted down the hall, Lance still pressed to her back.

Her tail swept out behind him, the ceilings in the place more than enough for Saja to move. It could've been wider, but it was big enough.

The three soldiers in front of them raised weapons, eyes wide through their masks with fear. Two drones stood beside them, metallic bodies at the ready. Behind them, Lance could also hear guns charging, at least two. His hands tightened on the handles, intending to get Saja to attack.

The blue and orange wyvern abruptly crashed through the hole, slamming into the wall and crushing one of the Galra soldiers between it's teeth. The screech and gurgle of broken ribs and metal piercing flesh rang through the hall, even as Saja shot forward to crunch one of the soldiers to pieces, a drone firing at her, only for her forepaw to slam on it's chest, crushing it's mechanisms.

Lance could only hold on as Saja raged through her opponents. When there were none left, she glanced back to the blue and orange one, making a chuff noise.

Just like that, their deadly dance was broken.

Alarms rang off at the same time that wyverns poured free of the crack, Lance guiding Saja down the hall. He needed his Bayard.

Glancing back, he couldn't believe the sheer number of beasts following him. He hadn't counted the cages he opened, but looking now, there were more than twenty of the animals, howling and barking behind him.

It took them hallways, rooms searched, to find the armoury, Lance sliding off of Saja's arm. "Stay here!" He ordered her, ducking into the room quickly.

A guard on the inside swung a punch at him, but Lance only grabbed his wrist and shoved his shoulder into the Galra's flexed elbow.

The snap told him it had worked, and the scream told him he was safe to move more. He yanked on the Galra's damaged arm, pulling him in front of the door, then kicked him outside as he moved to find his Bayard.

Just as he found it, he heard a screech in the back. "Ascua?!" He cried.

She responded with a howl.

He found her jammed in a tiny cage, wings crowded, hissing as he cut her free. "C'mon, it's ok girl..." He said, storing his Bayard and helping her out. He re-emerged to discover that the Galra had met a less fortunate end than a broken elbow. Not that he cared.

He had told himself before that there were good Galra. This guy, in armour and with a gun, wasn't one of them.

Clambering back up onto Saja's shoulders, Lance gripped the handles and pushed her forward. She reacted exactly how she had been trained for it, charging down the hall. She even ignored Ascua, flying over Lance's shoulder.

The patrols they met were made short work of, Lance following their trails toward the main hub of the ship.

Midway through, he summoned his sword and started using it to slice through Galra who had the misfortune of being close enough, like some kind of knight atop a horse.

Except his steed was a twenty five foot dragon thing from space, and his sword was supposed to be the key to some powerful force in a robot lion.

Tolkien, eat your heart out! Lance thought as Saja spun around a corner, tail lashing.

The double doors at the end of this hallway told him all he wanted to know.

This time though, the big orange and blue one jumped in front of Saja, snapping unhappily, eyes gleaming. Saja pulled back, and the other wyverns went silent.

The orange and blue one pulled it's head back, neck making a sharp 'S' as a glow started to form within it's mouth, claws sinking into the floor as it prepared itself...

And released a blast like an ion cannon.

It lasted less than a second, but it punched through the door effortlessly.

Saja shot forward the instant she had the opening, darting through the hole like a snake and emerging into the command hub with a roar, rearing to her hind legs as she spread her powerful wings, others rushing inside, smoke floating over the floor.

Various Galra soldiers raised weapons, but not all in this particular room had them.

Which meant that, when Lance noticed Saja's eyes fell on the General at the helm, he was going to get eaten without a chance to defend himself.

He was fluffy, with a bit of a beard. Like an older, two-armed Sendak.

Their gazes meeting didn't last long enough to even blink, as Saja's head came down on his shoulders.

The Galra commander howled in agony as Lance slid off Saja's back, vaulting the command station and slashing his sword at a stunned Galran by the screen.

Lance parried her next block, and his sword found his target of the Galra's throat.

The wyverns were busy making short work of everything else for the next six hallways, as Lance shoved a body off the command system and began tapping out commands. He just wanted to know where Red was, and if the atmosphere were safe to drop in.

The atmosphere was safe, very safe, and they were just within it. He could drop any time. As for Red, she was in the holding bay, in a tractor beam, underneath the huge ship.

A tractor beam that could be deactivated once he got over there.

Lance smirked. He had an idea of how to do that.

"Ok girl..." He said to Saja. "These things work?" He questioned rhetorically, patting her wings.

Another one, slightly smaller with pale green and grey scales, roared at Saja, turning toward the window and clawing at it.

Then it pulled back, and charged up a cannon shot in it's mouth. It's teeth gleamed, sparks connecting to it's fangs as the soft white glow grew at the back of it's jaw.

The punch melted the glass of the front with a loud crack, a huge hole melting through the cockpit.

The green and grey scaled one roared, leaping forward and falling, before it's wings opened and it flew down, toward the ground.

Lance urged her forward, uncertain about the whole flying thing. Can she carry me?

Saja didn't hesitate, stepping onto the melted section. Her wings folded tight to her sides as she lept through the hole before they flared out, huge sails of scales and skin filling with air as she dropped down a few feet, head tipping forward to dive toward the surface. Behind him, the other wyverns started to dive out, like gigantic scaled birds, heading down toward the surface.

Lance pulled Saja up, forcing her to steer back toward the ship. He caught sight of Red, limp in the grasp of the tractor beam and her protective shield.

"Alright girl, we'll get you loose." He whispered, sitting up as he got Saja close to the underbelly of the ship. She didn't like it, growling repeatedly, as Lance tried to reach the panel. "...ohhhkay..." He whispered, slowly, carefully standing up on Saja's back. She made a soft cry of alarm, worried for him, as he screwed around with a panel enough to watch the tractor beam release. Red would keep herself from impacting the ground too hard.

Then he heard something power up beside him.

Spinning, Lance abruptly realized that a cannon was pointed right at his chest. A ship cannon like the ones sometimes fired at Red.

And like he did every, single time he was presented with a large, glowing shot that seemed inevitable, Lance did exactly what he did with Shiro, all that time ago.

He shoved down on Saja, her unhappy squawks filling the air as she turned away, hands scrambling to clutch to the handle of the control panel. "ASCUA GO FLY!" He ordered, the cat falling off his shoulder with a worried bark.

It pulled under his weight as Lance struggled to cling to the underside. Red was slowing her descent, but without Lance, she was just sliding to the ground.

He had no time to dodge.

Searing pain shot up his torso, from his hip to his collarbone, every muscle in his body strung tight as he screamed in agony, shock and fear. Vision flashed as he struggled to remember to hold on, trying to resist the crushing blackness that wrapped around him...

And then he was falling.


Waking up was honestly just getting more unpleasant every single time.

But this time, it was to a low rumble and repeated, rhythmic burning-spike pain through his chest.

Lance made a weak moan, one hand coming up to uselessly push at whatever was holding him, delicately, in it's iron grip. He couldn't move his left arm.

The thing made a soft, wary rumble.

"Sss... sssahh..." Lance wheezed, slowly remembering burgundy scales and huge jaws.

The wind and repeated shocks of pressure through his damaged torso suddenly made more sense. That was Saja flying.

She made a rumble-whimper noise when he tried to say her name. She was worried.

"...s'kay..." He murmured weakly, one functioning arm gently rubbing over her jaw. She made another deep noise.

The wind changed, and Lance slowly realized they were descending. Saja's wings backstroked, slowly bringing her down to the surface. He heard her back feet hit the ground first, dust kicked up as people, or, what sounded like people, called out to them.

Her wings were still flapping, slowly bringing them to a very soft rest on the dirt. She seemed to growl, assessing something, head turning side to side slightly.

Then he felt himself be lowered down, laid on the ground by the huge wyvern creature he had saved.

Her head was low, close to him, swivelling overtop of his chest, staring at the other things that were gathering around them.

When a hand grabbed his hurt arm, forcing out a whimper of pain, Saja stepped overtop of him, growling ferociously.

"Saja!" A new voice called, above the others. "Down!"

Saja shifted foot to foot, growling faintly. She wasn't happy, but she seemed to know that voice.

"Saja..." It growled, coming slightly closer to them. "Down."

She snarled, but slowly moved her wing. Lance winced away from the light with a low moan.

Hands were on him, checking over his chest, over his body. "Someone call the medic!" The voice that had commanded Saja snapped. "He's hurt badly!"

The world went away again.


When Lance woke up, his body felt warm, but also wet. Everything did, in fact.

He felt like he was in a hammock, in water.

Sound was muddled, as was sensation. Everything felt peaceful. Lance dropped his head back, perfectly content to ignore the hidden pain across his chest.

Until water swamped over his face.

Lance shot upright with a shocked cough, pain blazing across his chest as hands landed on him. "Whoa now, whoa..." Someone said, supporting him mostly upright. He slumped into the touch, brain not quite online, body even less so.

"Hey, alright pretty boy." The voice continued, helping him lay back into the warm water, but putting a pillow under his head to keep it steady. "Can you open your eyes for us? You've been out for a while."

Lance slowly groaned, taking a few moments to carefully blink awake.

The hazy image of a snout came together. Like Saja's muzzle, but smaller and more round. Like his own head, but with a full, draconic face.

"There we go. Hello Paladin. Breathe for me, ok?" She said.

Lance nodded softly, eyes drifting back shut as he took a few deep breaths, some small metal pad scanning his chest like a stethoscope. "Sounds good. Alright, take a nap, maybe. It's gonna be ok."

Lance was already halfway there.


"...that was a ship's cannon shot across the chest, you cannot possibly expect him to be moving now. Give it time!" The voice barked at someone, then slammed a door. "Kronos' sake, I hope that was she gets shot. Then she can know how you feel, huh Paladin?"

Lance blinked fully awake, shifting in what he realized was a net, to keep him on the surface of the water.

"Oh, huh." The woman-being from earlier carefully knelt beside him, double-jointed legs not lending themselves to it, as her dual-tipped tail flicked behind her. "Hello, Paladin."

She looked like a dragon. Fangs, horns, ridged scales down her back. Slitted eyes. He noticed, when she reached out for him, that her hand had... small, short wing-like things that only came to her elbow. They looked a lot like small versions of Saja's wings.

"Where..." He murmured softly. He really wanted to stop waking up without memories of anything that had happened. He remembered the Galra ship, and that was about it.

"You're on T'branin, Paladin. Your wound was severe, but we did heal it. Unfortunately, it... scarred." The dragon-woman said. She had shimmering scales that went into a t-shirt-like outfit, with a pair of pants shaped for her strange legs. The cloth was black, but it fit almost flush to her skin, a little like denim.

Her skin and scales were a fiery orange, sharp eyes a deep green.

"Ugh, that's..." Lance struggled to get a leaden arm under him, fingers hooking into the net to push himself up. "Fine. It's fine. How long have I been out?" He asked.

"Two Winteks." The woman said.

Lance paused. He had no idea what that was.

"Uh, sorry, about that." She chuckled. "Quintants. Approximately two quintants."

Lance winced. "Oh wow."

"My name's Kir'in." Her tail swayed, two points sweeping the stone floor. "I can't keep calling you Paladin." She chuckled

"Uh, Lance." He answered. "Lance McClain of Earth."

"Whoa." Kir'in said, eyes wide in disbelief. "Outside of Sector Space? Jin'da! How the R'ik did you get here?"

"Long story short, a Galra Druid shot me with something that sent me here." Lance said, wondering if she knew about the Galra.

"C'orsa." Kir'in hissed in a bitten tone, making Lance wonder how bad a swear it was. "There have been a few Druids at planets we've freed, but never enough that we got blasted outside of Sector Space."

Then it occurred through Lance's tired mind.

"...you know, outside of Sector Space?" He whispered.

Kir'in laughed. "Well, yeah. Galra war, Voltron, we get updates from the expedition scouts that go out."

"You guys leave?" Lance gasped.

"I know, for most things in Sector Space, it's really weird, but- ohh wait, you want to get out..." Kir'in realized.

"My team, yeah. They're... without me. And-"

"You can't form Voltron without all the Lions." Kir'in nodded. "Yeah. Problem is, leaving the atmosphere." She said, pushing Lance back down, then walking over to a lever and pressing a button.

It pulled Lance out of the water, moving the net over rock ground.

Kir'in walked over, and helped him off the net, handing him a diamond-shaped towel, then a same pair of the black pants and t-shirt she was wearing. "The Galra arrived here about three movements ago. They've been sending reinforcements constantly. The five great ships that caught you, well... they've been the big problem. Good news is, you took down one."

"I... did?" Lance asked.

"It fell from the atmosphere about a... varga before Saja came down carrying you." Kir'in said, shaking her head.

Lance realized that they had put tight shorts on his lower body, as he pulled on the pants.

"Sorry if those don't fit you, by the way. We attempted to measure for your size."

Lance just smiled as he pulled on the shirt. The pants felt a lot like very soft denim, whereas the shirt was much smoother, like nylon, but thick. "Thanks." He said, rolling the bottom of the ankles up a bit.

"Hey, you took down a ship, are a Paladin of Voltron..." Kir'in gestured outside, claws clicking on the stone floor. Lance followed her. "We can get you some help."

The city he was in was huge.

Skyscrapers that looked smooth, ships and other things docking at their tops before flying off again. Everywhere he turned were the huge wyvern creatures, like Saja, in technicolor.

"Dios mío..." Lance said softly, turning to stare at the skies, at the buildings towering over them.

"We're the only planet in Sector Space that's capable of leaving and returning, and communicating outside." Kir'in stated, almost sadly. "...the Galra won't take us down."

Suddenly a loud snarl-roar came from the side, and Lance spun, reaching for his Bayard, realizing it wasn't there just as Saja's head barrelled into him.

"Saja!" Lance cried, grinning. "Hey pretty!"

"Well, glad to know she takes a liking to some alien." A deep, rough voice, like a smoker's, came up beside Saja. The voice who had called her off.

This one was big, wearing full grey neck to foot combat suit. Taller than Kir'in, with a few more missing scales and longer teeth.

"Uh, hi." Lance said, standing upright as Saja purred against his hip.

She smirked. "Heya. Thanks for rescuing her." The tall one said. "Ru'al." She held out a hand.

"Lance." Lance took it and shook it. She seemed pleased.

"Good to see you moving." Ru'al said. "Thank you again. I can't imagine that the Galra were nice."

"No, but, just what I'm supposed to do." Stepping a bit close so that Saja would step back, Lance had to tip his head up slightly to meet Ru'al's eyes, but not much.

"You rescued over three gularin D'haku." Ru'al chuckled with a swish of her tail. "Any B'hra would be thanking you."

"...why did the Galra want them?" Lance inquired, petting Saja's head.

"They're loyal, and strong. Plus, their Tova attack is... deadly." Ru'al smirked.

"Tova... that laser blast?"

The blue-navy B'hra nodded. "Also." She began, reaching onto Saja's back saddle packs, and pulling out a larger cage.

Then she freed Ascua.

"Hello!" He laughed, petting her as she nuzzled into his neck with sharp mews.

Ru'al chuckled. "She came down following Saja and Jasp'r. We kept her safe."

"Thank you, for that." He let her settle on his shoulders.

"Now, Paladin, if you're well enough, hop on." Ru'al vaulted onto Saja's back. "We have your armour repaired, but your Lion..."

"Got it." Lance said, shifting onto Saja's back. "Thanks, Kir'in."

"Of course. Ru'al, don't beat him up." The nurse instructed.

"Never." Ru'al said sarcastically, before she pulled on Saja's collar handles and pushed her forward.

Lance had been worried about Saja carrying him.

When she shot into the air with both him, Ru'al and the packs of whatever on her sides, he realized he didn't need to be.

Saja made a snort noise as they rose steadily, gliding over the city as Ru'al guided them toward a huge building on the outskirts of town. "Your Lion was kept with our Ge'ain ships." Ru'al called over the wind. "They seemed to like her!"

"Ge'ain..." Lance muttered, confused, but he didn't get that much time to ask questions, when Saja turned and headed for the runway, landing easily and powerfully. Another B'hra ran over, waiting for them to get off before Saja to a nice little spot with a few other D'haku.

"Follow me." Ru'al purred, leading him to the doors of the massive building, pausing as both their eyes adjusted to the bright inner lights.

Lance spotted Red in about the middle of the rows, standing tall and proud, but she seemed happy enough. Her dark paint was still shining, though scratched, and one foot was lifted up so repairs could be done on the thruster.

Ru'al lead Lance down the building, as other B'hra ran past in very military-like format. Two by two, lead by a single.

It felt like the Garrison.

"So, we noticed your Lion was made of the same material our Ge'ain ships are." Ru'al said.

"Really? There's more interdimensional ore?" He gasped, amazed.

"We get it, rarely, here in Sector Space." Ru'al nodded. "If she wants, and if you'd be alright, we would be able to preform numerous repairs, upgrades and otherwise on her."

"I'll need to ask her. The last time she was upgraded, we were on Creemin." Lance explained.

"Creemin. I've been there with Grey." Ru'al smiled.

"Grey?" Then the lights came on over a huge stall beside Red.

The metal beast sitting there was shaped like a velociraptor. Teeth, claws. The majority of him was a pale grey, while the rest was smoky ash.

"Whoa." Lance breathed. He got the same sense of power off Grey that he felt from Red or the other Lions.

"There are seven, of our Ge'ain ships." Ru'al chuckled. "I pilot Grey. Lead."

Lance ran a hand through his hair, staring at the huge claws and the massive jaw, the tail curling back around his feet. "He's gorgeous." Lance said.

Red growled, echoing in the hangar.

"You're pretty too, babe!" Lance called to her.

She seemed satisfied.

"We've needed to hide them, to keep the Galra from capturing them." Ru'al sighed. "Orange is starting to get feisty. Which is why I would like to ask you something..." She turned to face Lance. "...will you help us to take back our skies?"

Lance smirked, looking to Red, who's eyes gleamed. "Of course." He told her.


The next quintant, at a meeting for this, Lance learned everyone's names.

Ru'al was the pilot of Grey. He represented storms, clouds, and power.

Cov'rn was a lean, green-blue B'hra who seemed too pleased for the whole situation. He piloted Orange. He represented fire and heat.

Ques was thickset and heavy, with white ridges and mostly violet-indigo scales. She piloted Tan. She represented land and ground.

Wor'av was a fairly average guy, with a kind smile and soft words, oddly fitting of his pale red scales. He piloted Indigo. He represented shadows.

Ti'ap'an, or just Tiap, was mint green and grey, missing an eye. He reminded Lance of a more exhausted, younger Shiro. He piloted Teal. He represented the ocean.

A'dajo was copper orange with black markings. He had a half-foot scar in his left leg. He piloted Crimson. She represented blood, and war.

Ju'rak was a neat, iridescent black. He was missing the entire wing-fan on his right arm, and kept looking at A'dajo like something was fascinating him. He piloted Neon. He represented space.

"So, we got a Voltron Pilot here." Cov'rn said with a smirk, leaning forward on one elbow. "Fancy."

"They're called Paladins, you ignorant sorv." Ques told him.

Cov'rn shrugged, "and he's fancy. My statement still stands."

"Oh I'll show you stands!" Ques shot toward Cov'rn with claws outstretched, vaulting the table as the blue one darted to the side, chuckling softly. "Get back here! I'll make your skin into a coat!"

"Can we not wrestle... for once?" Tiap asked in an exasperated tone.

Sheepishly, Ques and Cov'rn returned to the table.

"Alright, now we just need to wait for Tor'lak." Ru'al said with a soft smile.

"Good, then I've got time!" Ques once again jumped the table to wrestle, playfighting with Cov'rn, as Ju'rak got lashed in the leg by a stray tail tip and fell into the fight as well. A'dajo made an attempt to rescue him, but it ended up with those two fighting all on their own, laughing. Ju'rak laughed louder than A'dajo, who seemed shy, but it was fine.

Then a door slammed open, and everyone froze.

Tor'lak was huge. Bear-sized, and he walked like it. The group on the ground quickly untangled, settling back into their positions at the table.

"...Alright." Tor'lak's voice was... soft. Light, almost. "Now that I have your attention..."

"Cov'rn started it." Ques said.

"Can you not embarrass us in front of the out of Sector Paladin of Voltron?" Tiap asked with a long-suffered sigh, wiping a hand down his face.

Lance blushed slightly, shuffling down.

"Aw, I'm sure he gets into wrestling matches with his own teammates." Ju'rak said with a grin.

"If you wanna call your UST showing off 'wrestling'." Wor'av muttered and the table burst into laughter as A'dajo looked confused and Ju'rak turned away, embarrassed.

"Yeah, I'm sure Lance wrestles with his own team." Ru'al rolled her eyes.

"I uh... did, yeah." Lance said softly.

His tone seemed to make them all freeze.

"...Paladin Lance." Tor'lak began, soft and worried. "...how long have you been in Sector Space?" He asked.

There was quiet as Lance calculated.

"...a Deca-phoeb."

Silence.

Just the sound of a family, a team, shocked out of air.

"...Chi'var." Ru'al turned from the table with the word hissed low. "You've been in Sector Space alone for that long... Chi'var."

"...by Kronos, I'd go mad." Cov'rn said, sounding grim and serious for the first time.

"It's... not that hard. I've been working to get out." Lance muttered softly.

"You're still a fair distance from 'out', Paladin." Tor'lak said with a sad air. "Another... several phoebs."

Lance winced, turning away with a bitter expression. "...step one is getting the Galra away from you guys."

"The Ge'ain ships need some startup time. It's because of their long bodies, and many laser use claws. They need a little time to get into the air." Ru'al stated, putting down a screen that showed the Galra ships in the upper stretches of their atmosphere. "The Ge'ain ships can't take off while the shield is in place. So we need someone to go up first, play distraction. There are four ships." She pointed out the Galra ships.

"I call the c'orsa who shot me down." Cov'rn smirked.

"No." All the others said.

"At the moment, none have shown threat of warping in or out. They're waiting for backup." Tor'lak said steadily.

Lance shrugged. "I can go up there. Spend a few doboshes playing keep-away, for you guys to get up there."

"...Paladin, that could risk your capture again." Tor'lak murmured.

"And the other option?"

There was a pause.

"...I'll do it." Lance nodded. "Just get in the air. Then I fight with you."


The event was scheduled for less than twelve vargas later, giving Ru'al time to bring him to the suit-up station for his armour.

"We couldn't fully repair it. Same with your Bayard..." She said, handing him the weapon. It's red was now deeper, like Red's new paint. "Though it seems to have taken no damage."

"It shouldn't." Lance said steadfastly, walking to where Ru'al had his armour set up on a stand.

The chestpiece had a matching scar, deep and winding, that now rested on Lance's chest. It was filled in and sealed with black material, brutally real against the white of the armour. It cut the corner of the 'V' off, making him...

It looked so...vicious.

He kind of loved it.

"It's... Wow." Lance murmured as Ru'al handed him the undersuit. "...What's it sealed with?"

"The same material we use in our our armour, which seems to be slightly more solid than yours. They're basically the same though." Ru'al said, pulling it out and putting it on the table beside. "Go put on the undersuit. I'll get your armour set out."

Lance nodded, ducking behind a wall to slide into the slick, smooth undersuit. On the outside it felt like leather, but the inside felt more... soft.

When he walked back out, Ru'al was waiting with his armour all set out, and beside his, lay another set.

Black, with clear silver markings. In the centre of the chestpiece, lay a long, open-ended diamond, twin points sticking down toward the ground.

"...That yours?" Lance asked as she picked up the belt of his armour.

"Yeah." Ru'al nodded. "I think you and I can do this little pre-battle ritual of our planet." She held out the belt.

He went to take it, but the realized.

Assembling your battle partner's armour. That's the ritual.

He put up his arms and let her clip on the belt, then the legs. The chestpiece went on with a strong, hard click as she locked it down and sealed it to the undersuit. The black stood out brutally, like a testimony of what he had survived.

Once the arm pieces were on, she picked up his helmet, and he dipped his head to allow her to slide it over his ears, locking it on.

Despite the strange pieces, Lance figured it out without too much assistance. He put on the belt, that stretched slightly up and under the chestpiece, guarding her stomach. Over the legs, the back of the tail. The arms, then he held up the helmet and watched as her horns folded down somewhat, so that it slid on easily.

He kind of liked the feeling of trust that went with it.

"...You ready?" Ru'al asked Lance.

"As anyone can be."


Once the hologram shield was up, a B'hra with glowing sticks, like a plane marshaler, led them toward the exit, and into the shielded sunlight. Other doors opened, letting more of the marshalers draw the raptors out.

Sitting down, the raptors just appeared quiet, with long claws and powerful, mechanical bodies.

Grey stepped out though, and Lance realized that the claws were just openings for lasers, like the Lion's jaw blades. His claws glowed a steady silver-white as he slid into the sunlight.

He was huge. Longer than Red, and slightly taller than her to the shoulder.

His motions seemed so... lifelike. Even the shake his body gave as his head turned around, assessing Red with sharp, blue eyes.

Beside Red, a roar came up, and a slightly smaller, slimmer raptor with an ash-grey base tone marked with bright orange sections came out with the howls of the damned. He sounded terrifying, feisty and wild, claws tapping against the tarmac. His front limbs were longer than Grey's, by a good amount.

At Grey's other side, another stepped out. Ash base tone, with markings in soft, birch wood tan. She huffed, making a sharp cry toward Orange. Orange put his front paws on the ground and barked.

"This is awesome, Red! They're like, alive!" Lance grinned. The Lions never were this vocal.

Next came Indigo. His body wasn't lean in the slightest, his shoulders wider than Grey's or Tan's. His form was also a lot darker, from the indigo detailing to the ash main.

Crimson stepped out next, and Red felt a vague flash of jealousy, but also interest. She was like Red's old colour, distinctive and sharp against the dark grey. She was thinner than Grey or Tan, but larger than Orange.

Teal stepped out next, and he moved fluidly. Silent and effortless, like slipping through water. He was about the same as Grey or Tan.

Finally, Neon stepped out.

He was small. Smaller than Orange, even, and he moved with a soft sort of bounce. He was, like the others, predominantly dark grey, but sections of him gleamed with bright iridescent colours.

"Lance, come in." Ru'al said through his comms, her face appearing on a screen.

"I'm receiving you, Ru'al." Lance grinned.

"Woo-wee!" Cov'rn cried, at the same time as Orange rearing up.

"We'll need another three to five doboshes to take off." Tiap stated, focussed on something away from the camera. "Orange and Neon can be up in two, but it's still two doboshes. Can you handle that?" He asked Lance.

"I think I can do that." He nodded, eyes narrowing. "See you in two doboshes."

"Hat'chi var!" Ru'al proclaimed.

"Hat'chi var!" The others called, and suddenly they started glowing, brighter.

Lance turned Red's head up, staring at the barrier, waiting for it to vanish...

The instant it did, Lance shot into the air, streaking toward the Galra ships.

"Hey bitches! I'm BACK!" He shouted as they struggled to keep up with his rapidly darting form, blasts lighting up their sides as they tried to fight back.

They were quickly becoming organized, but Lance was starting to put some distance between him and the ships. He had bought time. Now he just had to keep their attention for a bit longer-

Red spun to the side when a hit caught her hip. "Fucking-" Lance hissed viciously, adjusting immediately and spinning up, going to bear down on one of the other ships.

And those hateful tiny drone ships appeared.

"...Goddamn great." Lance muttered. He spun to the side, swirling into space in an attempt to lead them off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the large ion cannons levelling on him.

Only to get slammed by something that tore through it like it was paper.

Something lightning fast and iridescent danced through the ships following Lance.

Red slowed, turned around, as Orange and Neon appeared, hovering by a simple pair of feet jets and hip jets, like the Lions.

Lance smirked. "Time's up. Rules change." He said softly, toward the Galra ships.

"Hey Lance!" Cov'rn called through the comms. "Say we firebrands give this thing a pounding, huh?"

"Let's do it!" Lance agreed, slamming his Bayard into Red's slot and activating the cannon as Orange dove for the ship, claws and teeth outstretched.

Together, they ripped into the ship while Neon provided cover, effortlessly redirecting damage cast at them with the use of seemingly glass shields.

They spent barely ten more minutes before the others appeared, five more making short work of the ship they were focussed on.

"'Dajo, take the flank!" Ru'al ordered. "Ques, the other flank! Lance, charge the cannon with Tiap and Ju. Ju, guard them, draw the fire."

"I do that best!" Ju'rak purred, shooting down toward the next ship with Tiap and Lance flanking him. The ion cannon swung around to face them, and Lance had to force himself and Red not to pull up, to stay level.

The ion cannon struck Neon's shield, and did nothing.

"Damn. If only Pidge had that." He muttered to himself as Tiap glanced to him.

"Lance, get ready. The instant that thing's done firing, we strike." The Teal pilot ordered.

"I was born ready."

The instant the last dregs of energy had blazed off the sides of the glass shield, Teal lunged forward, as Lance did with Red, and called up her jaw-blade.

Between Teal's claws and Lance's blade, they made short work of the cannon, spiraling out of the way as other shots came up.

The ships were starting to either flee or go down. Between the eight smaller, faster, stronger ships flitting around them, and the arrival of several more spaceship-like ships with small guns, they were losing ground.

The raptors took down the other two in lightning quick motions as Lance and the small ships were fighting the final one, limping away.

By the time that Crimson had set bombs on them, then gotten out of range, none of them were moving anyway.

The explosives that cracked the ships apart and blew them up were a good thing.

The fight had lasted longer than Lance though. He had gotten too much into the combat, into the blood of battle.

When they landed, the cheers that greeted them felt a lot like those he heard on other planets, when Voltron had defeated something, and the people were cheering.

As the pilots removed their helmets, Cov'rn dragged Lance into a half-hug and cheer, holding up his mask. "You should stick around for a few days! Do some training, some upgrades..." He said over the shouts. "Plus, we just saved the planet."

Lance, for the first time in a long time, felt a smile break on his face as he leaned into the craziness that Cov'rn was calling him to.

He held up his own helmet, and cheered.