When they came for him, Shiro had his hands raised. The robots circled around, guns leveled, lights glowing. Shiro held his right arm up at shoulder height, hand empty, fingers splayed. His other arm was still supporting Lance's head, but he pushed his open hand above water to show that he posed no threat. His entire body was wracked with tension as he half-hunched over Lance, his face pulled into a grimace. He was heaving for breath, his back pulsing up and down. The terror was like a living thing, eating out his insides and rattling his brain, but he had to endure. Just for a little while, he told himself. Just for a little while.
The ranks of the robots parted, and a Galra commander stepped into view. His fur was brushed neatly, and his eyes were hard and bright, his expression both stern and satisfied. Shiro switched his gaze to him as soon as he appeared and locked eyes with him, watching his approach. He would not show fear. He would not show fear.
"So." The Galra's deep voice rumbled in his chest. He stopped on the bank of the stream, his hands folded behind his back, and looked down at Shiro and Lance the way that a person looked down on an annoying bug that they had finally cornered and were about to crush underfoot. "We've found you after all. Why did you bother to run, if you weren't going to make it more difficult?"
Shiro grit his teeth. "Who are you?" If he was going to be forced to surrender to this utter scum, he wanted to at least remember his name.
"I am Ragnak, the second-in-command of this sector. I thought it might be fun to join the drones when they finally ran you to ground, Voltron trash. I'm pleased to find that the exercise did provide me at least a modicum of amusement. Now that your every effort has proven utterly useless, will you at least have the grace to come quietly?"
Shiro looked around at the robots, his breath hissing through his teeth, then back to Ragnak. "I won't fight you," he said, "though I could. I could destroy at least a dozen of your drones before you put me down, and I could make a play for your throat. I might even make it. But I won't try, as long as you grant me one concession."
Ragnak tilted his head, a condescending smile flitting over his lips. "What might that be?"
"Let me carry my friend." Shiro curled his left arm closer to his body, pulling Lance's head in to rest against him. "He's injured and very, very sick. He doesn't understand what's happening right now. Let me take care of him. Just...don't restrain my hands, and allow me to carry him. That's all I ask."
Ragnak's lip twisted in disgust. "You'd trade your freedom for such a token?"
Shiro's mouth twitched. "I trade my right to fight for the permission to care for my friend."
"You trash." Ragnak snorted. "And in any case, what worth is your vow that you won't fight? What worth is the word of a slave?"
Shiro clenched his teeth, blinking rapidly. A flood of images and feelings rose within him at the sound of that word, said in that tone, by a creature who looked like that. Slave.
No, he had to fight it. He had to fight it. Shiro clutched Lance closer to him and sucked in a breath. "It's worth more than yours."
Fortunately, Ragnak found this amusing. He laughed, an almost furry, muffled sound. His head bent back on his neck, eyes closing for a moment. Then he looked back to Shiro, still smiling wide and smug, eyes narrowed in contentment like the cat that got the cream. "Very well. You will be permitted to carry your precious 'friend,' if it means so much to you. I will not order you to be restrained. But I know well that the current pilot of the black lion is never truly unarmed. Four drones will escort you at all times with their fingers on the triggers of their weapons. If you make a single false move, you will regret it."
Shiro swallowed. "I thought you wanted us alive."
"Alive does not mean free of pain. We can do many things without killing you."
Shiro knew that was true. He nodded once, briskly, to accept the bargain. Then he bent over to look at Lance's face. His voice lowered to a murmur. "Hey, Lance. Hey, kiddo. Can you open your eyes?"
For a second, it seemed like Lance wouldn't be able to respond. But then, with an effort, his eyes slid open. They were still glassy and distant, but Shiro could tell that he was trying to focus on his face. Shiro blew out a sigh in relief. The water had done some good. "We're gonna move, now, okay? I'm gonna carry you. Can you put your arms around my neck?"
Lance blinked and managed a bare nod, little more than a shiver. Shiro shifted him in his arms, pulled him up to rest against his chest. Slowly, sluggishly, but with intent, Lance raised his arms and wrapped them loosely around Shiro's neck. His head rolled into the dip of Shiro's shoulder, eyes hidden once more against the column of his neck, and he breathed in short, hot pants that Shiro felt ghosting over his damp skin, warmer than the jungle breeze.
"Okay, okay. Good job, buddy. I've got you." Shiro set his feet underneath himself and straightened up. Water flowed down his armor and saturated Lance's clothes. Made it would cool him a little during the ordeal ahead. Lance's breath hitched at the change in position, then smoothed out again. As smooth as it could get right now, anyway.
Shiro gave him a concerned glance, then looked back to Ragnak. He nodded.
Ragnak still had that look on his face like a person staring at a bug, but there was also some amusement in his expression. Shiro grit his teeth, angry despite himself. Yeah, yeah, it was just so freaking funny, wasn't it, watching the captured Earthling trying to help his wounded companion. Ragnak jerked his head. Four drones splashed down into the creek and surrounded Shiro on all sides, guns leveled at his torso. The one behind him nudged his back with the muzzle, and Shiro jolted forward a step, then went still, seething with fury.
"Still some fight in your eyes, I see," Ragnak said, half-laughing. "The crowds at the arena will be pleased, once we've taken everything else we want from you. Very well then, let's move out."
They marched. Through the forest, back to the field. It felt like an undoing, a rewinding of all the hard-fought progress Shiro and Lance had made over the past three days.
Walking surrounded by Galra like this, their guns pressed to his back, pressed against the teammate he had fought with all his might to protect and comfort and support... That felt like an undoing, too. Shiro felt his mind slipping to things he had forgotten, and he tried to fight it. The smell of this place, though, the stinking, rotting smell of it, so thick and pungent and deep... It was the cells of the arena after the fight, the dead prisoners, the dead slaves left to rot. Left to rot, or...or dragged away...dragged away for worse ends... The smell...
But here again, Lance was his savior, even though unwitting. His weight in Shiro's arms was heavy, and his face pressed against Shiro's neck was warm. This was the present, this was here and now, this was what Shiro needed to focus on. If he turned his head and twisted downward, he could bury his nose in Lance's hair. The fever-scent did not block out the stink of this rotten planet, but it helped. It helped. The ache in his arms and upper back told him where he was, what he was supposed to be doing.
The field of giant leaves had been all but trampled. Only a few plants were still standing here and there, lilypad-like leaves catching the moonlight. The robots must have spread out and walked shoulder to shoulder to cause such devastation to such a wide swath of land. The drones escorting Shiro halted on the edge of the field at a gesture from Ragnak, and Shiro stood there and stared over the destruction, a strange lump in his throat.
These leaves had sheltered him and Lance the other day, and the sight of them spread out under the moonlight and sunlight, calm and still and rich, dark green, had been soothing. It hurt to see them destroyed in such a cavalier way. A small hurt, against everything else he was feeling right now, but still a hurt.
Ragnak looked over the trampled field, too, but he only gave a disdainful sniff. "I suppose I must give you some credit for getting this far away, after all. It might even take us a thousand ticks to get back to the lions."
Shiro stared at him, blinking. Only fifteen minutes? That was all the distance he and Lance had put behind them?
A mechanical whirring interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see a transport vehicle pulling up alongside Ragnak, driven by another flesh-and-blood Galra. It was large and open, not unlike a jeep, but with large, wide tank treads. Ragnak waved his arm, and the drones pushed Shiro toward it. "You should be grateful for the ride," Ragnak told him with a sneer. "I doubt you'll be able to go much farther with that useless burden weighing you down."
Shiro frowned and clutched Lance a little closer to him. Still, he got into the vehicle willingly enough. They made him sit on the floor, drones in the seats all around, guns still trained on him. He let it fade away and chose to focus on the kid in his arms. Lance remained limp and silent and unmoving, barely reacting to anything.
"Lance?" he whispered. "You in there?"
Lance's head shifted against his neck, just a little. It almost counted as a nod. Shiro would take it.
"Everything's going to be okay, kiddo. We're going home." He didn't know how much Lance was aware of, but he probably knew that they were currently captured and surrounded by Galra. But he couldn't possibly know that the others had been planning an attack, that they had been fighting above them even as Shiro had tramped to the stream and dunked them in.
Fifteen minutes wasn't a lot of time. Shiro had hoped that all of his and Lance's efforts to delay, delay, delay would give the others a little more leeway. By the time they got back to the lake where the lions were, maybe it would already be over. His assurance to Lance was as much hope as it was certainty, but he made his voice as firm as he could. "We're going home."
"Lying to him now?" Ragnak was standing at the side of the open vehicle, grinning down at him. "What foolish creatures you are."
Shiro frowned and ducked his head, choosing not to look into the Galra's eyes. He might see the truth there if he looked hard enough. "My friend is sick and hurting," he said quietly. "I'm doing everything I can for him."
"And you will fail," Ragnak said simply. "Enjoy your last thousand ticks in the fresh air."
The vehicle rocked slightly as Ragnak got into the front, and then they were moving. Three other tanks vehicles filled with drones came with them, while the rest would have to march behind. The treads crunched over the trampled plants, crushing them into the ground. A breeze flowed over them. Shiro closed his eyes.
The Galra did not follow the path Shiro and Lance had taken. They made their own. They detoured around the gigantic trees in their way, but always with a distinct sense of disgust, as if they'd much rather chop them down and chose not to only because they were pressed for time. Shiro did his best to soften the shock for Lance whenever they jolted over a root or a rough spot on the ground, but he could tell by the increasing raggedness of his breath and the way his hands tightened on Shiro's shoulders that he wasn't always successful.
"Hang on, kiddo," Shiro murmured. "We're almost there."
Lance's head moved again in something that was almost certainly a nod. He seemed more cognizant now, holding onto Shiro instead of just lying there in his lap. Shiro blew out a breath. He raised his head and looked around, but he didn't recognize their surroundings. The path must have taken them on a circuitous route, and now the Galra were cutting straight through, back to the lake.
Shiro had no way of telling how long the journey actually took. It could have been forever. It could have been a couple of minutes. Inevitably, they reached their destination.
The vehicle stopped, and Ragnak gave an order. The drones shoved Shiro with their guns. He positioned his arms to bear Lance's weight again and carefully pushed to his feet, trying to jostle him as little as possible, then descended from the vehicle. The lake was still obscurred by a line of trees and foliage, but he could smell the water, could hear the mechanical sounds of a Galra encampment, the hum of a particle barrier. They must have built up a large base here while they were searching.
Shiro's gaze was drawn up, as if by a magnet, to where the black lion was visible above the trees. The lion's particle barrier was activated, and the Galra had surrounded it with a particle barrier of their own, trying to contain it. Even as he watched, the lion seemed to twitch, irritated, chafing for freedom. Shiro knew the feeling.
Lance was starting to breathe harder, one hand fumbling at Shiro's shoulder. Shiro looked back to him in sudden concern. "Lance? What's the matter?" It was the bag of gear tied over Shiro's shoulder that Lance was trying to get at. Was he thirsty? He had to be totally delirious at this point.
Lance's panting intensified, and he tensed against Shiro's arm. "Shh." A breath of sound pushed out of his lips, audible only to Shiro as anything besides random noise. Shiro went still. Lance's fingers clenched in the fabric of the groundsheet and stayed there.
Ragnak and other Galra officer strode ahead, but the drones still surrounded them, four close enough to touch and at least twenty more behind. Shiro angled his body to try to hide what Lance was doing, but there wasn't anywhere to go. And he didn't even know what Lance was trying to accomplish, so he wasn't sure that he was helping at all.
Then they passed beyond the trees, and Ragnak halted in his tracks. He had been talking to the other Galra, but his voice stopped too, cut off as if chopped with a sword. Then Shiro came up behind and saw why.
Yes, there had been a Galra base here. The Galra had cleared a tract of land and brought down equipment, ships, modular buildings... And it was all destroyed now. Robot parts littered the ground, drone ships lay wrecked everywhere and scattered in the trees, and more of those tank-like vehicles were crushed into the swampy dirt or pushed into the lake.
"What... What!" Ragnak turned back to Shiro, his eyes wide, face enraged. "What is this? What happened here?"
Shiro allowed a smile, grim and tight. "I don't know why you're looking at me. I had nothing to do with this. I promised I wouldn't fight you, remember?"
Ragnak looked back to the field of destruction, breathing harsh and ragged with rage. "No...no, it's not too late... We can fix this." He spun on his heel and stomped back to Shiro, teeth clenched in fury. He shoved the drones out of the way and grabbed Shiro's arm, then started pulling him down to the lake. "Make him bring out the blue lion. Bring it out of the lake! We have to at least take one lion..."
"Why not the black lion?" Shiro asked, his voice utterly calm. "The black lion isn't hiding."
Ragnak snarled. "You know very well that the black lion has been shooting everything that comes near. And you agreed not to fight, but you didn't agree to help. Not that it would have mattered in the end. We would have tortured you until you gave us entry. But now we have no time to waste, and the blue pilot is already weakened. We'll force him to let us in."
They had reached the edge of the lake. Shiro dug in his heels and refused to be dragged any further. Lance had stopped fumbling with the gear and was now still in his arms, panting breathlessly, his entire body stiff with tension.
"No," Shiro said coldly. "You won't."
Ragnak turned back to him, mouth open in a sharp-toothed growl. His hands were reaching out, claws extended to swipe at Shiro or Lance or both. It was desperation and rage that drove him, nothing more. Shiro took a step back, out of his reach.
His right hand was starting to glow. He hadn't meant it to happen. It was pure reaction to the situation and to Shiro's mentality. He wanted to fight. He wanted to destroy. The urge to protect protect protect was a roaring mantra inside him that overtook everything else, but he had enough presence of mind to keep his promise to the bitter end. He would show Ragnak what the word of a slave was worth.
The drones didn't know that. The glowing hand was sign enough for them. They started firing.
Shiro dropped. He activated his shield as he fell, and he curled up around Lance, covering him with the shield and his own armored body. He grunted as he took several blasts, but nothing penetrated. Lance lost his breath when he hit the ground, then went still, shaking all over. He couldn't take much more of this. Neither of them could.
Then the roar. The lions. Shiro looked up, squinting through the laser fire. He saw them coming, brilliant in the moonlight. Green and red and yellow. They had destroyed the Galra camp, then flown over the forest, searching for them. And now they were back, just as Shiro had known they would be. He smiled, then gasped as he took another hit to the back.
"No, no!" Ragnak, screaming. "Stop firing! Stop! I'll kill them myself! If we can't have the lions, I'll kill the pilots! Let me have that satisfaction!"
The drones stopped firing. The lions were descending. Shiro looked up, still curled around Lance, as Ragnak rushed toward them. He was holding a gun. Shiro clenched up tighter, moving his shield between Lance and the approaching death.
"No! Enough!" Ragnak reached them. He landed a vicious kick on Shiro's wrist, breaking the shield. It shattered and disappeared. "You die now!" He raised the gun and pointed it at Shiro's forehead.
At the end, Shiro could only lie there, unable to move. This was it. He couldn't do anything else. The lions in the sky were descending, but they were still too far away.
Ragnak's face twisted in an ugly grin of triumph. "No, your friend dies first."
His aim shifted to Lance, armorless, defenseless, delirious and all but dead. Then Lance rolled over and revealed what he had been hiding between his body and Shiro's. The thing he had been fumbling for in the bag of gear and only managed to get out when all of the commotion had drawn attention away from him. His bayard.
Lance shot Ragnak between the eyes. The Galra fell, too quickly dead even to look surprised. Shiro gasped.
Then the lake exploded.
