Disclaimer: If you recognize the characters, they aren't mine. Just playing in the sandbox provided by Dreamworks and the "Voltron" production team.
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Keith messaged Iverson through the Garrison's system and the commander replied that he would be in his office after 2230 hours. That was…late. Dr. Hooper's words came back to him: someone important decided that the Kerberos crew needed to be dead.
He went into town after classes and withdrew most of the money from his bank account, getting some hard currency and putting the rest of it on yet another anonymous debit card. He used the cash to lay in a supply of water and packaged food that would last several days. He added those purchases to the hold in the hoverbike before heading back to the Garrison. He returned to the apartment and tried to get some studying in before dinner. It was difficult to focus—Shiro was jumpy and nervous about something.
They separated Shiro and Ch'varr at the destination, a much bigger arena that the one they had been in. Shiro was checked over by someone he presumed was a medic—the same white-faced one who had done the initial exam on him—and taken to a bathing room. For once he did not question the aliens' purpose and took the opportunity to scrub himself clean and dress in the fresh uniform.
When he was done, they took him to a staging room. There were multiple low-tech weapons mounted on the walls: flails, swords and knives of various sizes, and even a crossbow. The Galra guard waved a hand, indicating that he should choose. Shiro shrugged; he had no idea what he was dealing with. He took the crossbow and a bandolier with extra bolts, a sword and a knife. He had little experience with the crossbow, but at least he knew how to aim and shoot it. He had never tried to use a flail before.
The guard grabbed his arm and pulled him down a hallway where he could hear the noise of a crowd, much larger than any other so far. The guard positioned him in front of a door. "Make sure you smile. You fight in front of the Emperor today."
Shiro rolled his eyes at that but now things made sense. He and Ch'varr had the most combat experience of their group and were apparently being promoted in a twisted way. It didn't change Shiro's objective: survive and avoid killing if possible.
The noise outside shifted to some kind of music, heavy on drums, and the door in front of him opened. Shiro stepped out into an arena at least six times as big as the one where he had been fighting. He was now in the equivalent of Camp Nou II or Rungrado.
Across from him, he saw Ch'varr emerge from another door, carrying a flail in each hand. At each side, another door opened and two more large aliens stepped through. One looked to be a particularly powerful example of the Galra, the dominant race here. The other had the appearance of a large, hairless Cocker Spaniel, with a muzzle-like nose and long, floppy ears. Both of them were empty-handed, apparently relying on their larger size and natural claws in a fight.
"Four shall enter, two shall leave. No quarter given," boomed an announcer's voice and the crowd cheered in anticipation.
That will be you and me, Ch'varr.
Keith drove the hoverbike to his meeting with Iverson. It was already dark and while the Garrison was generally a safe place he didn't want to walk it alone at night.
He held his ID card to the scanner and pushed the door open after the lock released. The interior lights were set to night levels and he moved carefully, following the hallway through the dimness. He turned a corner and saw Iverson's door open down the corridor, bright light splashing the floor and wall. Keith picked up his pace. Shiro's presence loomed in his chest—his soulmate was being forced to fight yet again.
As he went past a turn for another hall he heard movement behind him. Keith spun around and saw three men rushing him. Their faces were hidden by balaclavas. Already keyed up from Shiro's nervousness, he dodged and pushed at just the right moment, sending the first one past him and into the wall. But the other two came at him at the same time. He tried to duck between them and tumble out of their way, but one of them snagged his arm and twisted it behind him. They threw some kind of cloth over his head as he shouted for help, muffling his voice. They hauled him several yards down the hall and turned. Keith fought with everything he had, thrashing and kicking, but he was one against three much bigger opponents. It was hard to breathe and he grew dizzy. They eventually lifted him, stripped his jacket off him, and pinned him down until someone fastened straps across his body, holding him down.
Someone pulled the cloth from his head and he saw yet another masked person…and Iverson.
"Commander? What the hell?"
"I'm sorry, Keith, but it's for your own good."
"What's for…" Keith trailed off as he saw the other person prepare a syringe. Keith looked around wildly and saw the curved white frame and rubber nodes of an electroconvulsive therapy machine.
A combination of certain drugs and a series of shocks to the brain was the common method to break a soul bond.
"No…NO!" Keith screamed and struggled against his bonds. The second person pushed the sleeve of his T-shirt higher and wrapped a tourniquet around his bicep. "NO! Don't do this!"
"It's for the best! He's lost forever, why should you suffer knowing what's happening to him?"
"NO! I have to know that he's alive! And he needs me—you can't take away his only link back!"
Iverson looked unhappy, but reached and pulled a washcloth from a stack near a sink. He unfolded it and jammed it into Keith's mouth, cutting off his protests.
Keith kept fighting as the other man approached him with the syringe.
There had been no surprises so far in the fight. He and Ch'varr communicated with glances and did not tip their hands immediately that they would work together. The Galra gladiator tried to start with Shiro, but the fourth alien blindsided him with claws and teeth, provoking his temper and drawing him away. Shiro and Ch'varr sparred briefly for show, then Shiro hooked one of Ch'varr's ankles and tripped him. He moved back toward the other two, wondering if he could get an opening for a swift slash to the throat to put one of the other opponents out of their misery quickly. But the Galra fighter head-butted the other, dropping him to the ground, and whirled on Shiro. He fired the crossbow, hitting the Galra in the shoulder as the purple alien closed the distance.
"Duck!"
Shiro heard the shout from behind him and obeyed. One of Ch'varr's flails sailed over his head, like a bola, and the chain wrapped around the Galra's throat. Momentum sent the handle and the spiked ball whipping around to hit him in the face. This was Shiro's best chance and he dropped his sword in favor of the knife for better control in aiming for the throat around the chain.
Suddenly Shiro felt panic rip through him. It thrummed in his veins. This was the clearest communication he had felt from Keith since being abducted: someone was going to sever their bond!
KEITH!
He froze, trying to think of some way, any way, to stop what was happening galaxies away. The Galra pulled the flail from his neck and swung, smacking Shiro across the face with the handle end and jarring him back to awareness. He fell to one knee, still struggling to function as Keith's mental voice screamed for help.
"Shiro! Shiro! What are you doing?" Ch'varr leaped over him, waving the sword Shiro had abandoned.
Shiro channeled his own terror and Keith's into action, regaining his feet as Ch'varr drove the Galra back. He grabbed the flail that Ch'varr had dropped and started swinging, building up momentum until the flail was spinning as fast as he could make it.
"Ch'varr, clear!"
Ch'varr dove to one side and Shiro charged forward, slamming the spiked ball into the Galra's head. The Galra dropped like a stone, unconscious and bleeding.
Shiro dropped the weapon and leaned forward, hands on his knees, panting. He searched through his core, looking desperately for Keith. Had the assailants succeeded? Was Keith lost to him?
There was activity in the building. Katie let a long string of curses flow through her head as she moved carefully in the dim hallways to avoid any possibility of running into someone. This building had been completely empty every night before now. What had changed? Why had she not gone for Iverson's office last night instead of waiting?
Shouts for help broke the silence and she could hear sounds of a struggle. She darted to the next hallway and caught a glimpse around a corner of three full-grown men dragging a smaller figure with them into a room. Her instinct was on the side of the one being held, and she made a snap decision. Cause a distraction to let him get loose, and he would in turn be the distraction for her to get to Iverson's office.
Katie backtracked, looking for the nearest exit with a security alarm as the victim began screaming in protest. She turned down a new hall and found her goal. She realized that the screams had been cut off and broke into a run for the door, pushing it open to trip the alarm. She doubled back into an empty lounge and hid between a pair of vending machines.
Keith continued to struggle violently, and the medtech drew back. "We have to hold him still or sedate him. I have to get this in the vein."
Iverson moved forward to try and hold Keith's arm in place, but halted as an alarm began blaring through the building. "What the hell? Did those idiots leave through a security door?"
The medtech dropped the syringe on its tray. "I don't know. You check north and I'll check south. Check every door."
As both men left, Keith drew in ragged breaths through his nose. He had straps pinning him down at the chest, hips, and ankles. He bent his knees and worked one foot free, then the other. Planting his feet, he pulled down with his legs and wormed his way out from under the other straps far enough that his hands were free. He tried to reach one of the clasps that locked the straps into place but couldn't. He resumed squirming his way down, pushing himself out from under the remaining straps and yanking the gag out of his mouth. He got to his feet, snatched up his jacket, and checked the currently empty hallway. He raced for the nearest exit.
With the alarms still going, one more door being opened didn't make a difference. He escaped the building and ran around, his heart leaping when he saw his hoverbike was still where he had left it. He jumped on and activated it, tearing away just as Iverson and two other men emerged. He headed for the nearest perimeter, revving the engine and popping the antigrav to vault the bike into the air and over the fence.
Katie's fingers flew over the keyboard, digging for more. She already had a flash drive in her sock, loaded with video files. She had proof that Shiro successfully landed the ship on Kerberos and that her father and brother were alive and well at the time. They had taken more video of the equipment check and of the first round of samples gathered. There was a bit more to go through that might hold the key to their disappearance. If it was true they'd been taken by aliens, the ship's camera might have some images of the attackers—
The overhead light clicked on.
She straightened and saw Iverson in the doorway.
Keith drove at max speed, heading south. The moment he was clear, he began focusing on the soul bond, trying to let Shiro know that they were still connected.
I'm here. I'm still here. They didn't get me.
Shiro and Ch'varr stood together, waiting as the noise of the spectators began to shift into jeering. The other two opponents were down, but not dead. The crowd wanted blood and death. Shiro and Ch'varr refused to kill. Ch'varr stared straight ahead resolutely while Shiro's focus was inward, zeroing in on his soulmate. Shiro searched the bond, trying to find out what had happened.
I'm here, I'm alive. Where are you?
Then he felt Keith's response: I'm still here. They didn't get me. Keith wasn't as panicked as before, but still badly frightened.
Shiro closed his eyes, sending every bit of gratitude he could muster back at Keith. Their connection sang for a moment, strong as ever.
Up in the stands, high above the crowds, she stood on the balcony at the left side of her lord. Most of the time these gladiator matches were tedious, but it was necessary to find potential candidates for her experiments. A few times in a lunar cycle there would be a possibility, one that she would mark for watching further. Once they had something of a track record here, she would pull them out individually and examine them further.
The current match was almost over. The victors were refusing to finish off the losers, which happened sometimes. The emperor would let the crowds go for several minutes to see if the fighters could be convinced to make the death stroke or not. He paid more attention to the ones who held their convictions and refused.
He rose and signaled to the guards to collect the fighters.
She gasped as her senses picked up an intense surge of the purest energy. This was unlike any quintessence she had felt before, a wave that emanated from below and spun off into the distance. Where was it coming from? How did it hold such power and brightness? She stepped forward, peering down and focusing her magic to find the source.
Her eyes widened as she traced the quintessence to one of the two victorious fighters, the one without horns. He was the source, but where was the energy going, in such a focused beam? And returning? It was a two-way connection? What was on the other end?
"Haggar!"
Her head jerked up. Zarkon had finished his pronouncement and was heading back to speak with the master of ceremonies. She followed and listened as the emperor confirmed the identities of the two fighters, making note of the hornless one: Prisoner 117-9875 from Sector X-9-Y.
Thank you for reading!