Earth was a blue marble jutting over the horizon, swirling clouds obscuring the lines of familiar continents and oceans into a single jewel of mottled white, blue, green, and brown. From here, it looked utterly serene, the scattered debris still in orbit from the fight several days earlier too small to be seen at this distance.
Peering out of the habitat dome across the Lunar wasteland, Keith felt oddly disoriented for a moment, as if he'd slipped sideways into another reality, one without the Kerberos disaster or Galra conquerors, one where he'd graduated the Garrison and gone on to fly ordinary missions around Earth's solar system. The thought was appealing, and at the same time frightening in a way he didn't quite have the words for.
Before it could unsettle him too deeply, though, a dull thud and muffled cursing from under a nearby console brought him jerking back down to earth. Or rather, the moon.
This wasn't a Garrison mission. He was a paladin, and he was here to help install the last of the six small particle shield generators they'd managed to fit in Red's cargo hold, destined for the various research substations scattered across the surface of the moon. Not that he had much to do now that the heavy lifting part and the hook-ups requiring two sets of hands were done. Picking his way carefully over the power cables twisting across the floor of the dome, he used his toe to nudge one of the legs sticking out from under the console in question. "Hey, you okay?"
"Just peachy." Matt's grumbling could be heard faintly. "Just banged my head. Again. These headlamps aren't meant for wiring control panels by."
"I'll take your word for it. Let me know if you need help." Keith muttered, leaning back against the edge of the console and crossing his arms. He could feel the stares of the substation's crew, watching curiously from a safe distance. They didn't seem to know what to make to the two of them, two kids compared to most of the people here, dressed in armored flight suits and flying a giant robot cat. But at least they were staying away. Pidge had been cursing up a storm on the comms earlier because one of another substation's officers had objected to 'a child screwing with sensitive equipment.'
Trying to ignore the eyes on him, he turned his head to look out at Red, stretched out comfortably on the launch pad. Somewhere else, he knew that Pidge and Allura were working on their fifth set of installations at another base, and Coran had sent the others out in teams as soon as they got back and loaded up. They had a tight schedule if they wanted to get all the premade defense system in place by the time the Icebringer ships were fully repaired and ready to launch.
A scraping noise beside him signalled the completion of the hardware hookups, Matt pushing himself carefully out from under the main computer for the dome's electric generators and batteries and hauling himself upright. A moment later his fingers were flying over the keyboard and he had a USB pushed into a slot, installing the programs that would let the computer talk to the shield and the protocols for rapid activation. After all, a shield that took too long to turn on wouldn't do anyone any good.
Not that these shields would hold up very long. Limited by the power available in the dome's systems, they'd only stand up for a few minutes against a fighter barrage. Just long enough for the personnel stationed here to run to the emergency bunker currently under construction. But even that could mean the difference between life and death if the Galra came back, so in the shields went.
On Earth itself, things were going a little different. Voltron and its allies didn't have the time or resources to construct local particle barrier generators for every city, and the planet didn't have the resources to power a global shield. So instead Coran, Iverson, and the Icebringer engineers had collaborated on a design for shield generators that Earth could manufacture fairly easily, and a system for hooking them into a city's entire power grid. The unfortunate trade-off was that once activated, the shields would divert all that power, leaving the city underneath blacked out, but the eventual consensus had been that if things were bad enough the shield needed to go up, then people were probably already panicking and a black-out wasn't going to make it that much worse. Those would only last so long too, especially under a sustained bombardment, but it would buy time for a distress signal to reach the Castle and for Voltron to return to help, no matter where they happened to be.
Keith couldn't help wondering how soon that would be.
"Alright, that should do it." Matt's voice drew his attention back to the task at hand. "Lieutenant Ng, is everything ready for a test run? Nothing running that a sudden power loss would cause problems for?"
"A-Ah, no. At least, I don't think so. It should be fine." The lieutenant, a nervous young man, hastily stepped forward, gaze flicking from Matt to Keith to the bulk of the shield generator sitting on the floor of the dome beside the main batteries and back to Matt. He swallowed and bobbed his head in a jerky nod like he wasn't sure what level of deference he was supposed to show, and Keith tried not to let his irritation at the man's twitchiness show.
Matt nodded, hitting a few more keys. Then, taking a breath, he tapped in the activation command.
The interior of the dome was plunged into blackness as every light went out except for emergency strips marking the exits. A fraction of a second later a faint blue glow overhead cast eerie shadows. Tipping his head back, Keith saw the familiar hexagonal pattern of a particle barrier arching overhead, the stars faint pinpricks between the lines. He had to suppress a chuckle at the awed exclamations from the soldiers and scientists, glad for the darkness that hid his smile. Although he had to agree with one of the hushed comments about it being beautiful. He didn't usually have time to stop and appreciate the graceful design of the Castle's shields, a typical Altean blend of function and elegance, and he allowed himself a long moment to admire the regular patterning and soft blue shade.
Blue.
He didn't want to think about blue. Or the things he associated with it. He tore his eyes away from the display and pulled up his wrist computer. Second stage of the test was to make sure that friendly rescuers could shut down the shield from outside if it happened to still be standing when they arrived so they could get at the bunker. He tapped out the authorization code and the shield vanished, drawing disappointed murmurs from the hypnotized personnel as the power from the generators resumed its normal course and the lights came back up.
After a moment they shook themselves back to their senses, and Lieutenant Ng approached them again.
"Thank you." He said without preamble, holding out a hand to shake first with Matt, then with Keith. He seemed less anxious now, his shoulders sagging with weariness, and Keith belatedly realized that maybe the nervousness was more about how defenseless the place had been, with no protection and no escape if the Galra came back and some of his earlier irritation vanished in sympathy. "I gotta admit, I had my doubts about how much protection you'd actually be able to offer us up here, but after that display...well, hard to argue with that. So again, thank you. All of you."
Matt's smile was understanding as he started collecting his tools. "Believe me, we're glad to be able to help. It's not much, I'm afraid, I'm sure you've read the briefing kit by now-" the lieutenant nodded fervently "-so you know it's only a stall measure." He sighed, unplugging the USB drive and pocketing it. "I'd like to say I hope you won't need it, but...I'm not that optimistic."
"Even so, it gives us more of a chance than we had before."
"That it does." Matt's agreement was sincere. "Come on, Keith, we need to head back down for the next load. Schedule to keep."
As they headed for the main airlock, Keith frowned. They'd been working for hours, unloading the generators (an awkward process even in lunar gravity), hooking them up, and wiring them into the computers. Matt in particular had been crawling around under consoles and batteries, and the strain showed in the way he was favouring his bad leg. Silently, the red paladin nudged his Lion, and felt her warm rumble of assent in his mind. When the airlock finished cycling a few minutes later and the outer door opened, they found themselves staring straight into Red's waiting mouth.
Keith pretended not to notice the exasperated look the other shot him, striding ahead of him up the ramp. "Come on, Matt, schedule to keep." He called over his shoulder.
He grinned at the sputtering noise behind him before uneven footsteps followed him up. He gave Matt time to settle himself comfortably in the jumpseat that folded down from the back wall of the cockpit and strap in before launching, starting a slow journey low over the moon's surface, Earth rising slowly higher into the sky as they flew. Might as well enjoy the view while they could.
Matt must have had the same thought, because he spoke up a moment later. "Hey Keith? Can we just...stop here for a few? We're technically ahead of schedule."
"Sure thing." Red purred her contentment with the idea and he eased back on the throttles, setting her down on the ridge of a crater's edge. A million stars sparkled overhead, although they paled beside the gleam of a three-quarters-full Earth. Keith may have had fewer ties to Earth than anyone else except Allura and Coran, but he couldn't help but agree with the others that there was something special about this particular sky.
Except that it had been Lance who first pointed that out, during the heady rush after their initial landing as they stared out at a so-familiar blue sky. He'd said he couldn't wait to see the stars that night and someone-Keith couldn't remember who now-had pointed out that hadn't he had his fill of stars by now?
"Yeah, but these are Earth's stars." Lance had shot back with a grin. "That makes them special."
His hands tightened on the controls until his knuckles went white. He was not going to think about Lance. He wasn't. He'd made his mistake, he'd learned from it, time to move on.
Matt's voice, suddenly coming from right beside him, nearly made him jump out of his skin. "Hey. What's bugging you?"
"Nothing!" He snapped, whipping around in his seat to glare at the other where he was leaning heavily on the back of the pilot chair, brows knitted in a frown. "I'm fine!"
"Bullshit." Was Matt's immediate response. He limped around the side of the chair and perched on one of the control panels, rubbing his knee once he was sitting and looking at Keith steadily with a penetrating gaze that instantly put him on edge. "You've been acting weird for days."
Keith tensed and looked away. "I have not." He insisted, even though he knew they both knew it was a lie. He didn't want to talk about this. Nothing good would come of letting himself be vulnerable. It never had.
The older sighed, shaking his head. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "Keith, listen. I won't force you to talk if you really don't want to. But have I ever done anything to make you feel like you can't trust me with what's going on in your head? Has Takashi? I know you've been avoiding talking to him, too, and that's not like you. We're worried about you."
Rubbing a thumb back and forth over his knuckles to ground himself, Keith debated with himself. Matt's question was a valid one. While Shiro was the one who had officially mentored him, who had devoted endless hours to trying to earn his trust, Matt had also been there for him during his years at the Garrison, a steady presence that he could count on. He had also made it clear, even back then, that he was on Keith's side, and had backed him up in front of teachers and students alike. He'd never pushed his presence on Keith, but he'd silently shown that he cared all the same. Neither of them had ever let him down, even once, or looked down on him in any way. Even now, Matt still treated him with respect and affection, had seemed genuinely happy to see him again after all this time.
He bit his lip. Maybe he could still afford to talk to Shiro and Matt, at least a little. If he was careful.
"I did something stupid." His voice was quiet, and he avoided Matt's gaze. "Let people in and got burned. That's all."
"Ah." Matt's voice was heavy with understanding. "That explains a lot. No wonder you shut us out." He sighed, shifting a bit. "Do you mind telling me whose asses I need to kick?"
The offer got a weak chuckle out of Keith, grateful for the subtle reassurance of support. It helped a little, even though it hurt just thinking about what had happened. But he couldn't find it in himself to wish retribution on Lance for a perfectly reasonable rejection. Letting out a slow breath, he shook his head. "It's fine, Matt. Lance didn't do anything wrong."
"Lance?" Ginger eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion. "Lance did something to hurt you?" Matt sounded as baffled as it was possible to be, biting a finger thoughtfully as he mulled that over. "Now why would he...even unintentionally, that doesn't seem like him to not fix it…Keith, what exactly happened, if you don't mind me asking?"
He did mind. He didn't want to talk about that, about being abruptly reminded full-force of things he tried not to think about.
But the sting of it was like a weight in his chest, and Shiro had told him once-more than once-Even if we can't fix it, at least tell us what's hurting you. Let us share the burden and be there for you. And no matter how messed up Keith was, no matter what demons he allowed Shiro or Matt to glimpse, they'd always done exactly that. Even the worst revelation-being half-Galra, the discovery that he'd been dead certain would drive Shiro away once and for all after everything the older had been through-hadn't created any rifts between them except the one that Keith himself had put there out of fear of impending rejection.
He swallowed hard, gathering his courage. He'd fought one-on-one against Zarkon, for crying out loud. Talking about his feelings shouldn't be this terrifying by comparison.
"I...I told him how I felt about him. And he rejected me."
A long, heavy pause followed that declaration, and when Keith glanced up out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge Matt's reaction, he found the other outright gaping at him. He wasn't sure what that meant.
Finally Matt let out a slow breath, steepling his fingers over his nose and closing his eyes. "Yeah. Okay. That would do it. I'm sorry that happened to you, Keith." He said softly. "I dunno why the hell he would do that to you, anyone with half an eye could see how he feels...whatever it was, though, I really don't think it was anything wrong with you, okay? You may have been through some shit, but you're a great kid."
Keith swallowed again and looked away, wishing it was easier to believe Matt's assurances. There was plenty wrong with him, and everyone knew it. Especially Lance. He was just too nice to say so outright. "It's fine. I'm used to rejection, remember?"
"You shouldn't have to be." Matt scowled, shaking his head. "That kid...did he at least say why?"
Biting his lip, he leaned on Red's warm presence in the back of his mind for comfort. "Said he was no good for me." He explained quietly, and fidgeted with his gloves. "Which makes no sense, I mean, it's Lance, if either of us is no good it's obviously-" he faltered, because Matt had bolted upright and was dragging his hands down his face with an exasperated groan.
"Oh, for the love of vrekt, this is about the whole Haggar thing, isn't it. That idiot."
Now it was Keith's turn to be confused. "What does Haggar have to do with any of this?" He asked uncertainly.
Matt groaned and threw up his hands. "Of course you didn't notice. I should've realized. Look, you remember what Lance and Alejandro found out? That Haggar was the first blue paladin?"
Keith nodded slowly, still not seeing the connection. So another of their enemies was also a former paladin. As long as that didn't grant her any secret powers they had to be wary of, it's not like the fact mattered.
His non-comprehension must have shown in his face, judging by Matt's exasperated sigh. "Let me spell it out for you. Basically, Lance is an idiot, who I'm pretty sure thinks that just because he has a few things in common with Haggar, that somehow makes him a bad person too. Maybe he's afraid of his aspect still, maybe it's guilt by association, I dunno. I can't read his mind." He shrugged helplessly. "Point is, he's been beating himself up because of it, even though as far as I know, literally no one else thinks badly of him for it."
Keith gaped, pain momentarily forgotten as he tried to follow the leap of logic Matt had described. "That's...that's so stupid, though!" He spluttered. "That's like saying Shiro's a bad person because he and Zarkon were both Black Paladins!"
Matt offered him another shrug. "Anxiety isn't always rational. But, unfortunately, I think that's why he rejected you. Because he genuinely thinks badly of himself over this. Not because of anything you did."
"I…" he faltered, completely overwhelmed by this revelation. Lance had thought that he was a bad person because of Haggar. He'd found that out the first evening back, while talking to Coran with Alejandro.
Before Keith had gone to admit his feelings to him.
I'm no good for you, Lance had said. And when Keith had asked why, Lance had insisted he would explain tomorrow, in front of everyone. Except he hadn't, and Keith had known that the original promise was just a brush-off like so many before. Lance may have tried to spare his feelings, because that was just how Lance was, but when it came right down to it it was Keith that was the problem. Just like always.
Except apparently Lance had explained, and Keith had failed to put the pieces together, because he never could understand how other people thought. And maybe, just maybe (he was so afraid to even let himself consider the possibility of hope) Lance had been telling the truth about it being himself that was the problem-at least in his own eyes.
Matt was still staring at him expectantly, and Keith grimaced before trying again. "It was just after he talked to Coran with Alejandro." Keith told him, feeling an embarrassed blush rising to the surface. "When I talked to him, I mean." Now that he understood where Lance was coming from with what he'd said, even if it still didn't make much sense, he felt like an idiot for not putting it all together. Hell, he should have realized something was off right from the moment Lance said he hadn't been asleep!
"Naturally." The ginger gave a despairing shake of his head. "Meaning it the Haggar thing was fresh on his mind. That idiot." He delivered the insult in an oddly gentle tone that he normally reserved for disparaging remarks about his sister, the one that Keith had learned meant he wasn't actually upset, more likely fondly annoyed or outright missing her. "I'll have a talk with him, assuming someone else hasn't beat me to it. And you can think about what you want to do after that, okay? Because trust me, he does like you back. A lot."
"He does?" Keith blurted the words before he could stop himself, then quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, feeling his cheeks burn in mortification. Don't get your hopes up, idiot!
Matt just laughed and nodded, unaware of his internal beratement. "Definitely. I know I've only been back with you guys a few weeks, but shit, that kid is not subtle. Neither are you, really, although maybe that's just because I know you better."
Leaning forward, Matt put a hand on Keith's shoulder. "Listen. You want my advice? Take a little time, figure out how you feel about this now that you know both sides of the story. Give Lance a little time to sort out his own feelings and let everyone reassure him that he doesn't have to carry the weight of Haggar's sins. He knows how you feel about him now. When you guys are both ready, then you can talk things out, okay?"
"...Okay." Keith managed a small nod of agreement to that. His head was spinning from everything he'd just learned, his heart tying itself in knots of conflicting hopes and fears. He wanted to believe that Matt was right about everything he'd said, that the rejection was only due to Lance's ridiculous self-doubt and that the blue paladin really did return his feelings. But the deeper part of him still gnawed at him with doubt and wariness, whispers of it's always you and no one ever wants you making him hold those hopes at arm's length. But he didn't give voice to them. He had enough to think about, had bared his soul enough for one afternoon.
Sensing an end to the conversation, Matt pulled himself back to his feet, clapping Keith once more on the shoulder, and limped to the jump seat again. "Alright. We should get going before the others start wondering where we are."
00000000
"This is your masterpiece of terror?" Lotor's voice was frankly dubious as he peered at the rack of vials on the table, the liquid inside glowing with a dim blue light.
Haggar scowled, suppressing her irritation. "Don't judge so hastily based on appearances, Prince Lotor. The Baku serum may not look like much, but I expect you'll be more than satisfied. Allow me a demonstration."
Straightening, Lotor raised an eyebrow but gestured silently for her to proceed. At a snap of her fingers, two guards strode into the room, dragging a terrified prisoner between them. The prisoner, a gaunt, battered Unilu, went ashen at the sight of her, thrashing with desperate strength to break free from her captors.
"Hold her still." Haggar ordered, filling a syringe with a small amount of serum. It was more than was strictly necessary to be effective, but it wasn't as if the excess would do any harm. Grinning, one of the guards grabbed the Unilu by the hair, yanking her head roughly to the side and eliciting a cry of pain. The prisoner could only shudder in their hold, wide eyes staring at Haggar in terror as she slipped the needle into the main vein of the Unilu's neck and injected the serum.
For several ticks nothing seemed to happen, the prisoner still quivering and wide-eyed with terror. Then, abruptly, the light seemed to go out of her eyes, the tension seeping away until she hung limp and pliant in the guards' hands. At another gesture from Haggar they released her, leaving her kneeling on the floor. She made no move to get away, all traces of her terror, or any other emotion, vanished.
Haggar could still feel Lotor's doubting gaze on her back, and ignored it. "Get to work." She ordered the prisoner.
Without a word, the Unilu rose to her feet. Turning slightly, she zeroed in on a bucket and rag in the corner and crossed to it, dropping to her knees and beginning to scrub the floor methodically, almost robotically.
Lotor crossed the room and circled her, studying her thoughtfully as she continued to clean, seemingly oblivious to his attention. Finally he turned back to Haggar, lips quirking in a slight smile. "And what exactly does this accomplish?"
Haggar smirked back. As if he hadn't already guessed. He may be an arrogant brat, but he was far from stupid. "A universe filled with slaves who will serve the glory of the Empire without need for prisons or guards. Slaves who will never revolt or rebel. A way to conquer entire worlds without ever needing to set foot on them." Her smile widened, cold and satisfied. "Our enemies may flee in terror before it, but they will never be able to outrun it forever."
"I take it you have a delivery system in mind, then." All traces of his earlier doubt were gone, replaced by eager cruelty. She could practically see him itching to put it to work.
"Of course." She turned to another table, occupied by a gray metal hemisphere almost three feet across. "A modified mass vaccinator. This is the first prototype, which you may take to use for a field test. The second is already under construction. They take considerable time to modify, but I will notify you when more are ready."
Giving a soft hum of satisfaction, Lotor ran long fingers over the smooth surface of the device. "Excellent. See that you do. I will notify you of how your creation performs once I've seen it in action." He laughed softly. "If it does half of what you claim it will...then I expect even my father's accomplishments will pale before my own within the cycle." He snapped his fingers and one of the guards hefted the machine and followed him to the door. "Keep up the good work, Haggar."
As soon as he was out of earshot, she ground her teeth until her jaw ached. "Arrogant whelp! As if I intend to allow you to usurp his rightful place!" She snarled. Just a few more decarotations, then the brat would be put back in his place and Zarkon would reap the rewards of the terror she had used Lotor to sow. Just a few more decarotations of putting up with his high-handed insolence and disrespect. She vented her frustration on the lab, sweeping a tray of empty vials to the floor to shatter, before storming off to check on the progress of the healing program.
Behind her, the Unilu slave moved silently across the room to begin cleaning up the broken glassware, her gaze vacant and face empty, even when a shard sliced open her finger and let blood drip down onto the floor.