Convincing the guard of this outpost to help him is bloody work. Its pride outweighs its survival instincts to a suicidal extent. He barely curtails the desire to cut out the filthy beast's tongue, when it threatens to have him sent to the slave ships. The Galra's blood thirst and bluster may put them above the cowering likes of his weaker self, but they are paltry rats compared to him. He would never allow them to throw him in a cell. He'd carpet planets with their fur first.
Still they are stubborn rats. Most would have done what he asked after losing their claws, or some of their fangs, or one of their damn ears, but not this one. Noooo, this one had to have the pain tolerance of a war god. He was nearly ready to slit the thing's throat and go find a fresh one to start over with, when he spotted it. A tiny device he recognized from Shiro's time with the Galra.
A few quick button pushes and he is delighted to find a picture of what looks like the animal's cubs. Newphews? Something young and related to him, that's all that matters. The thing is so much more helpful after that. Stupidly helpful, if it had two brain cells to rub together the guard would have realized that the universe was far too big for him to hunt down the subjects of the photo. He could barely tell the brats in the picture apart, much less distinguish them from every other young Galra rat in existence. Killing him after he completed dialing out to the Empire's command network is doing the gene pool a favor.
The Galra who picks up the call is just as much of a brain donor as the one he just disposed of. It takes far too long to convince the idiot that if he's calling on this line then he probably deserves to be put in touch with someone with resources who's interested in capturing Voltron. He's not terribly surprised when after what feel like forever on hold, Haggar appears on the screen. There are only so many forces in the universe that have both the motivation and the capability to create him. She probably had an alert out for his discovery.
"I assume you have a functioning propaganda network." He cuts to the chase. He has no desire to drag out a conversation with the hag any longer than necessary.
"Yes," The witch answers. Her eyes are far too piercing, and it absolutely does not disturb him. He doesn't feel fear at her presence, not like his pathetic counterpart.
"I can force the Castle of the Lions to appear at the time and place of my choosing. You are going to help me get on board, and I will cripple your greatest foe in return." He keeps the sneer off his face. The paladins are glass soldiers. A little pressure and they crack. The fact the 'mighty' Galran Empire considers them such an existential crisis reflects on how weak it is.
"If they don't show?" She asks. The question sounds more perfunctory than anything. He has her interest.
"Then I have some truly lovely fodder for your next information packet on the Red Paladin."
End Note:
Kuro isn't terribly fond of the Galra. Too many unpleasant memories.