In the Aftermath
Chapter 5 – Resolve
"So, I get the starfish off and start swimming. But when I turn around I find myself looking at Cthulhu, um, this guy with an octopus head. And he says, wait is something happening?"
"Why did he say that?" asked Mavalok, spellbound.
"No, not the story, it's the wormhole," explained Lance, "I think it's changing."
"Huh?" asked Mavalok, snapping back into his role as a serious Galra.
"There." Lance pointed to the cargo ship they'd been following in stealth mode. The gray wormhole was shimmering in front of it. And then, the ship winked out of existence.
"Exit!" shouted Mavalok.
"On it." Lance responded. He gunned the engine and the shuttle responded with a sudden boost of speed. It hit the spot where P'Talaquos's ship had last been seen and the dismal gray they'd been flying in for the past hour went glittery. Space seemed to stretch and then, like the snapping of a rubber band, they were out into normal space.
The Galra's yellow eyes went wide and his mouth opened halfway between a gasp and a whoop. Of course, as soon as he caught Lance looking at him, his mouth snapped shut and he tried to affect a nonchalant attitude. Heaven forbid a Galra would admit to having fun.
On their monitors loomed a station. "Hey," said Lance, "that looks like a Galra base."
It was deep purple with a three-fold symmetry — built on a similar plan to Zarkon's base, albeit a bit smaller and simpler. Marring its clean lines were random, off-white protrusions that reminded Lance of mold or the mushrooms that grew on the sides of dead trees.
"It was a Galra base," said Mavalok, awe creeping into his voice. "In its day, it was the glowing achievement of our kind, made to be a hub of interstellar commerce and political discourse."
"Was this before or after Zarkon?"
"He was just Lord Zarkon then. His uncle, the Emperor, commissioned the station. But Zarkon was one of the primary forces behind it."
"Why did they build it out here?" Lance didn't see a planet for it to orbit, or any other sign of civilization, besides the collection of spaceships surrounding it. Most were strange designs he had never seen, but a few were recognizable and there was even one that reminded him of their castle.
"They didn't. The Apocryteans stole it using Seltevian tech. The station was built to orbit Nakobut, one of the major Galra colonies and Zarkon's home planet. Somehow, the Apocryteans replaced the station with a meteorite, and the meteorite crashed into Nakobut. Hundreds of thousands were killed in the impact and the resulting climate instability eventually made the planet uninhabitable. The Galra were already at war with the Apocryteans, but the attack on Nakobut unified the universe against the Apocrytean threat and lead to the creation of Voltron."
"Wow. But Coran said they weren't ever able to get to this base, how did they defeat them?" Lance didn't see any obvious damage.
"I don't know," admitted Mavalok," Zarkon removed most mentions of Voltron from our historical records. Maybe they threw a bomb or chemical weapon at it through a wormhole."
That sounded a bit non-Geneva to Lance, but Zarkon had been the Black Paladin. Whatever they did, it didn't seem to have done any significant harm to the station or ships.
He looked at the fortress. If a space station could be haunted, it would look like this. There were barely any lights, and had it not been for the Apocrytean modifications, it would have faded into the nearly starless space behind it. Not for the first time, he wished he was piloting the Blue Lion.
"We should land," said Mavalok.
Lance pointed to the berth P'Talaquos's ship was heading to. "Over there?"
"Too close," Mavalok said quickly. "There," he pointed to a spot that would require a good deal more walking. But Keith had run in, guns blazing, and look where that had got him. Lance steered their shuttle that way.
They found a particularly dark section of the station to pull alongside, and Lance turned his Bayard into a laser beam gun to cut a hole in the outer hull so they could enter. They soon found themselves in a massive hallway, three stories high and nearly as wide. Knowing that the station was meant to be a center of trade, Lance could imagine it arranged like a street, cozy with shops and businesses set up in little booths. But bare and empty, it was pretty much the opposite of cozy.
Their footsteps echoed as they walked. A thin layer of white dust covered the floor and more floated in the air, absorbing their search lights. Lance's thin beam ran along walls, looking for an exit. Instead it illuminated a mass of white… something… stuck to the wall. Lance's first though was a spider's egg nest, only a thousand times bigger. And there was a ragged quality to the silky thread.
Something was wrapped up inside it. He saw small bumps sticking out.
Five of them.
Fingers.
Lance's stomach rose up into his throat, but he couldn't look away. The flashlight penetrated the cocoon, illuminating anatomy. Entangled in the white thread, he could now see a forearm, then a torso, then a head.
"Dead alien, dead alien!" his voice squeaked as he jumped back.
It could have been a Galra, maybe, 10,000 years ago. Its skin was mummy-dry, pulled tight over its eye sockets and nose. And its mouth, filled with pointed teeth and enormous canines, was wide open as if the alien had died mid-scream, or maybe Lance was just projecting.
Mavalok was trying his best to look cool while he leaned in, but failing. He pointed to the corpse's neck, where something like a shiny goiter was still visible. "Gall," he explained.
Lance's light continued up the wall. There was another cocoon with two legs sticking out and another with what looked like a tail. And there were more, dotting the walls all the way up to the ceiling.
"It must have been a nursery," said Mavalok, "But not from P'Talaquos. They were infected before the Apocrytean defeat. Let's keep going."
Lance tried, but couldn't stop himself from counting. He'd reached 73 by the time they turned off to a smaller passageway. What killed them? Had there been a rupture that sucked out the atmosphere? But then why were they still stuck to the walls? "I'm beginning to understand why Coran was freaking out."
Just beyond the entryway was an even more unnerving sight. Another ancient corpse, or most of it. A chuck of its head and upper chest were gone. The gall had hatched and the larva must have been engaged in feasting when the sudden death had come. Their corpses, not much bigger than Allura's space mice, were like tiny praying mantises, but with more legs.
They moved on and came to a door. Mavalok pulled a small black box out of his backpack and clamped it to the access pad. A set of lights briefly blinked, then turned green, and the door opened. Mavalok retrieved the box and repeated the procedure on the other side to close the door.
"Can't you use your hand?" asked Lance.
"P'Talaquos, or one of her slaves, might notice the pattern of doors opening. This device masks our actions."
They continued like that through several more doors until they arrived at a well-lit section of the station. By this point, Lance could almost pretend that the corpses were just super creepy Halloween decorations. That's when they found one of P'Talaquos's recent additions.
The white wrappings were glistening and smooth like pulled taffy, and the trapped Datubuni's skin was still pinkish. As Lance watched, he saw the alien's chest rise and fall.
"He's alive," said Lance before Mavalok slapped a hand over his mouth.
At the same time, the Datubuni's head snapped sideways. Its eyes were open and fixed on them. Faster than he could think, Lance had his Bayard in stun gun mode and fired. The alien froze and then its head fell forward. Mavalok yanked him down the hallway and around a corner. This space held only the ancient mummified victims, and as such it was almost comforting.
"It might not have alerted her," said Mavalok, "our source says that she can't be in everyone's mind at once, but she can instill a command which they're compelled to follow."
"Like watch the doors for intruders?" said Lance.
"Or kill anyone who enters." replied Mavalok, always a glass-half-empty guy.
"Can't we do anything to help the victims?" asked Lance.
"We can kill P'Talaquos," said Mavalok.
"And that will free them?" Lance asked hopefully.
Mavalok shrugged, "That's not our objective right now. You're here for your friend."
"I never said Keith was my friend," Lance corrected him, "I usually call him my rival. Back at the Garrison, he was this annoying, stuck-up, hot-shot pilot and I wanted to wipe that smug, disinterested look off his face. But since we've become Paladins, I've come to realize he's just awkward around people. And his I'm-too-cool standoffishness is because he really doesn't know how to react." Lance knew he was babbling, but it was keeping his mind off what he just saw, so that was good. "I kind of thought that was just the Galra side of him, but you're pretty high social-functioning, so that knocks that theory out."
Mavalok's glare finally shut him up. "Do all humans talk as much as you?" he hissed, "Don't answer that, just keep moving, have your gun ready, and be quiet." Anger was definitely a Galra trait.
Lance followed Mavalok silently. P'Talaquos's sentries were spaced randomly, making Lance's heart pound as they rounded each corner, opened each door. Twice more he had to stun the ones that woke up. The second sentry managed to get partway out of its webbing. After that, Lance was sure he could hear faint footsteps nearby.
Beyond the fear factor, each victim added to Lance's growing sense of guilt. Why had he been so sure that once they beat Zarkon he'd be able to go home? P'Talaquos had been gaining power all this time, and who knew what other evil things were out there. No matter what happened to the Galra empire, the universe needed its legendary defender.
And it needed the Paladins. Mavalok and the Blade of Marmora might fight the Apocryteans, but they were unconcerned with the specific victims. After I get Keith out of here, he promised himself, we're coming back for all of you.
His sensor said they were getting close to Keith but he didn't dare try to raise him over their com link. "Almost there," whispered Lance when they reached the next junction, "This way," he pointed left.
"Not for me," said Mavalok, who had pulled his own sensor out of his backpack, "what I came for is to the right."
"Wait, what about –"
"You didn't seriously think that I came all this way to help you rescue the Red Paladin, did you?"
"Well, it would have been the nice thing to do. I kind of thought I was starting to grow on you." He gave the Galra his most winning smile.
Mavalok gave a snort, "I'm Galra, remember? The bloodthirsty race that's enslaved the galaxy? We don't do 'nice'," and then, in a less arrogant voice, he added, "What we had was a brief alignment of goals, they're diverging now."
"Fine," said Lance, trying to sound offhanded, "not like we needed any more Galra allies. The princess probably wouldn't appreciate me taking home a stray anyway."
"I'm not a stray," said Mavalok, "Besides, you're one of the Paladins, you'll do fine."
"Yeah, that's true."
Mavalok was giving him a measured look and said nothing. Just before it started to get uncomfortable, he reached in the knapsack and pulled something out. "Here." He handed Lance a necklace with a square flat pendant.
"What's this?" What he initially assumed to be a decorative pattern looked on closer inspection to be complex circuitry.
"Think of it as a protection charm. It disrupts P'Talaquos's mental control by blocking her signals. That's probably why we haven't triggered any alerts. But it's not super powerful, otherwise those victims wouldn't have woken up. I'm thinking that if the Red Paladin is infected, it might come in handy."
"Thanks," said Lance turning it over and watching the wires shimmer, "you should have told me you had this thing sooner. The walk here would have been a lot less nerve racking."
Mavalok shrugged, "and give you an excuse to talk more?"
He was probably right. As Mavalok turned, Lance said, "Good luck with your mission."
Mavalok paused, but didn't turn around. "Same to you." Then he ran off.
Well, Galra weren't known for their manners, Lance supposed. Still it was nice of him to share. Lance slid the charm into his pocket and started in the direction of Keith's location.
Mavalok walked more carefully now, stepping quietly and slowly by the various bodies. Without the charm, a single misstep could alert P'Talaquos to his presence.
Still, it was probably safer this way. Lance was decent enough at stunning the sentries, but once P'Talaquos was alerted, the game would be up. Initially Mavalok had been counting on this distraction for his own mission. But after listening to Lance's tales, even accounting for embellishments, Mavalok had to admit that defenders of the universe had fairly won that title.
Strategically it made sense support the Paladins. If they took out P'Talaquos and her army, then it wouldn't matter that Mavalok had given away the Apocrytean blocker prototype. Emaksolam would understand, he often said that to defeat Zarkon's Galra empire they would require outside assistance.
Besides, Mavalok was almost to the goal. He entered the final airlock and looked out to the prize. There it was, huge and white with hardly any Apocrytean detritus. The Altean battleship Kyanite, untouched for 10,000 years. Now he just needed to get it running.
He pulled up the schematics and headed towards the engine room. As expected, the scaultrite
were badly damaged. Taking eight newly minted plates from his bag, he carefully mounted them. The Balmera crystal was in good shape, lucky considering how difficult it would have been to acquire one, much less drag here.
Next came the bridge and the trickiest part of the mission. As he'd told Lance, only Alteans could draw upon the universal Quintessence to open wormholes. What he hadn't brought up in conversation was just how good the Galra empire under Zarkon had gotten at acquiring Quintessence. He pulled out a canister of the glowing liquid along with several cables and set to work hooking it up to the main control panel.
Mavalok was so intent on his work that he didn't hear the shuffling, didn't notice the salty-ripe smell, didn't sense the shadow that fell across the room. It was only a movement in his peripheral vision that caused him to glance up and narrowly avoid the dagger that was already flying at this throat.
The Galra jumped back. His hand reached for his blaster, and came up with nothing. He saw it across the room, behind the advancing Unilu armed with two daggers and a sword. There was an alertness to her eyes that told Mavalok that this wasn't some autonomous sentry, this one was under P'Talaquos's direct control. And she was out for Mavalok.
The Unilu charged.
No way could Mavalok block that sword with his ordinary knives - a Blade of Marmora dagger would have been useful about now. He remembered his training: when fighting an Unilu take out as many arms as quickly as possible.
Mavalok grabbed a cable and, using it as a whip, caught up the sword and the Unilu's free hand and then yanked. The extra pull added to the Unilu's momentum and she toppled forward. Before she could stand up, Mavalok leaped forward and managed to land on the free hand. There was a satisfying crunching sound.
But apparently P'Talaquos's mental link didn't convey pain. Instead of screaming and thrashing, the Unilu swung at Mavalok with her remaining dagger. Mavalok countered with his own knife, but the force knocked him down.
The Unilu loomed over him. Her breath was rank, her skin sweaty and a sickly shade of green, but worst of all was the glistening, pulsing gall on her neck. Horror mixed with nausea in Mavalok as the Unilu came closer and closer, daggers bearing down.
He had one last defense, but he had to time it right and avoid the gall. With the Unilu's daggers a mere breath away from his face, Mavalok's legs shot up and wrapped around the Unilu's neck and arm. He latched his left knee over his right foot and squeezed. The Unilu went bright green and her eyes fluttered briefly before her body went limp. Mavalok kept his hold a moment longer to make sure the Unilu was truly unconscious.
Mavalok rolled out from underneath the sleeping alien and grabbed the nearest cable. He had the Unilu's feet and all four hands tied up before she started to stir. He used actual rope to secure her into a chair and some cloth to bind her mouth.
The ship's sensors were coming online, telling him there was a massing of aliens outside the Kyanite's hanger. The hatches were holding but it looked like Mavalok had been Lance's distraction.
His prisoner was awake and ineptly struggling. P'Talaquos glared at him through the Unilu's eyes. Mavalok gave her a very rude Galra hand gesture and went back to rigging up the Quintessence feed.
Lance ran as fast as he could down the corridor. The sooner he found Keith, the sooner he'd never have to see this place outside of his nightmares. His sensors led him down the passage to a huge hangar containing the cargo ship they'd been chasing. The regular opening of hangar airlocks was probably why this space was devoid of webbed wrapped bodies.
He glanced around and saw a body in black armor bound to a pillar.
"Keith," he called out before remembering he was supposed to be stealthy. He ran towards his teammate and was relieved to see Keith raise his head.
"You look bad," said Lance as he approached. And not in the beat-up way that was typical for Keith post-mission. His skin was grey, his eyes bloodshot, his mullet plastered down on his forehead. And on his neck, a small white bump no bigger than a marble poked out.
Keith's arms and legs were bound with simple rope and Lance easily freed him. The Red Paladin fell forward into Lance's arms, but as he did, his hands shot up and wrapped around Lance's neck.
"Gglgp," went Lance as his trachea closed. His knee shot up, catching Keith full in the chest and sending him backwards. But just as quickly, Keith rolled and sprang back to his feet.
"You're under P'Talaquos's mind control, aren't you?" cried Lance.
"What do you think?" said Keith.
Keith was almost on him. Instinctively Lance reached for his Bayard and, as it transformed, swung it at Keith's head. His teammate fell hard to the ground, and this time stayed put.
"I, I can't stop what my body is doing," gasped Keith.
"Her power weakens with distance," said Lance, "I just need to get you out of here and back to the castle.
"Then you're going to have to hit me a lot harder," said Keith as he struggled to stand.
Under normal circumstances Lance would be glad for the challenge. He looked around and spotted what looked like a toolbox, but before he could get it open, Keith lunged at him, knocking Lance's Bayard out of his hands. They went down grappling. In a sign that Keith was fighting P'Talaquos's control, Lance managed to evade Keith's grasps.
Lance flailed, searching for something to fight back with. His hands fell on something cool and metallic, tingling with a slight vibration. Keith's arm came forward in a punch and Lance blocked it, the object in his hand slapped against Keith's chest. It was Mavalok's protection charm. Keith's body went rigid. The thing must be working, Lance thought as he looped the charm over Keith's neck and slipped out from underneath, going to the tool box and picking out a wrench just in case.
"I can think again," said Keith, "what is this?"
"It's some sort of Apocrytean protection charm, I got it from a Galra."
"A Galra?"
"Yeah, we kind of ran into him back on the Datubuni station. He turned out not to be completely evil, still, not the greatest personality, but he was kind of helpful. Told me a bunch about the Apocryteans and gave me this charm that probably saved both our lives."
"Where is he?"
"Beats me, apparently he had his own mission so he took off."
"I might have met the guy," said Keith. The color was returning to his skin. "I think this is blocking the mind control signals from P'Talaquos's staff."
"Staff, what does she need a staff for?" asked Lance.
"I…" Keith put his hand up to touch the gall. It was kind of freaky. "Her mind link doesn't go in just one direction. Earlier, I caught some of her memories, more like nightmares. She's not a queen and these aren't fertilized eggs, galls, whatever. She needs her staff to link to them, to control us through them."
"I knew it!" said Lance, "I told Mavalok that things weren't adding up for an Apocrytean second coming."
Keith had that distant look in his eyes again. "Something's coming, you hear that?" There was a flurry of scampering, shuffling, thudding sounds.
"This way," Keith whispered and they ran across the hangar to a large inset panel on one wall. Keith put his hand to the plate and a door opened. After pulling Lance in, he shut it behind him, tapping out some sequence on the pad.
"I've locked the system," he said, "they shouldn't be able to open it for a bit."
"Um, Keith," Lance glanced around, "You know this is an airlock, right? And you've just cut off our only non-space exit?"
"Yes," said Keith, his moody terseness returned. Good to have him back.
"Oh, I get it," said Lance, "you're going to call the Red Lion to come rescue us."
"I can't, this thing is still latched into my brain. I can't focus enough to…" Keith closed his eyes and shuddered, "no, you're going to be the one to call."
"Wait. What? Call Blue?" asked Lance, "but I'm not part-Galra like you."
Keith gave a tired sigh, although Lance was willing to chalk that up to the mind control thing.
"It's not about my genetic makeup. It's about having a connection with your lion. You've bonded with Blue, right?"
"Of course," said Lance indignantly, "may I remind you that Blue and I have the longest relationship."
"Then focus and call her."
Lance took a deep breath, closed his eyes and thought about his lion. He tried to focus like a meditating monk might: clear his mind, block everything out. Mavalok's face popped up in his consciousness and he wondered what the runt was up to. No. Blue, he was focusing on Blue, on their connection, reaching out to … Images of Allura, then Coran, then Hunk, then Pidge hijacked his thoughts. After a moment, he opened his eyes. Keith was looking expectantly.
"Nope, nada." Lance doubted a hothead like Keith meditated his way to connect anyway, "How did you do it the first time?"
"The first time," Keith spoke slowly, "that was when the shuttle exploded and Allura and I were lost in space. We were drifting, and the com link was just giving me static, and I remember thinking that we were as good as dead. I felt myself starting to panic and this thing that Shiro says, "Patience yields focus," it popped into my head. And hearing his voice calmed me. I knew, somehow, that he'd come and get us. And while I was thinking about Shiro, suddenly I felt Red's presence, like when I'm piloting her, and I knew she was on her way."
"Well that's not much help," said Lance, "Shiro's missing, and even if he weren't, I'm not carrying around a hero worship complex like you."
"It's not hero worship," said Keith defensively, "I've known Shiro since I was 12. He's the closest I have to family."
"You're an orphan?" If he said anything about being raised by wolves, Lance was winning his bet with Hunk.
"No," Keith said in that curt way he used to end conversations. He grimaced and Lance tightened his grip on the wrench just in case. Then Keith spoke, "my mom left when I was really young and my father had a temper, and drinking problem. He beat me up when I was 13. That's when child protection services stepped in. They placed me in a group home and my extended family kind of forgot about me. Through it all, Shiro was there. Calling me on the phone, taking me places on weekends, making sure I kept up with my martial arts. I doubt I'd have made it into the Garrison without him. That's how I know I can count on him, no matter what."
"That invasion of the body snatcher alien is making you quite loquacious," said Lance. Hearing about Keith's troubled past made him feel a mix of guilt and jealousy.
"Anyway, it should be easy for you," said Keith, "you've got that big loving family. Just think of one of them and reach out."
It seemed reasonable, except…
"Okay, so, no one loves his parents and sisters and grandmother more than yours truly. But, the truth is, they're kind of goofs. I mean, they're smart and talented and impressive, but they could never get their act together to plan a birthday party or sign me up for after-school sports. They always put something together, but at the last possible minute. The school secretary had their numbers on speed dial, she had to call them so often whenever someone forgot to pick me up in elementary school. I guess there were so many of them that no one person had to be the responsible one."
"You got picked up from school?" asked Keith.
"Wait, I know," the choice was obvious, "Snufkin!"
"Who?"
"My dog, Snufkin. They got her when I was two. She was supposed to be a family dog, but really, she was mine. Never left my side when I was home, always waiting for me by the door when I was away. She slept on my bed, ate the food I didn't want, came the moment I whistled for her," thinking about her still made him tear up. "She was the greatest dog ever. You think if I whistled like I did for Snufkin, Blue would come?"
"Maybe," Keith shrugged, "It's worth a try."
A thought occurred to Lance, "I don't have to be launched into space or anything life threatening, do I?"
Keith glanced toward the hangar door. There was a distinct scratching sound from behind it. "You're trapped in a space fortress with an alien that can take over your mind. Her minions are trying to get in. And I don't know how much longer this charm's going to block her."
"Way to put things into perspective."
Lance took a few more steps away from Keith. He thought of the times he'd wake up from a nightmare and Snufkin would lick his face until he giggled and the bad dreams would melt away. He puckered up and blew.
Why did her Paladins keep doing this to her? Running off on their own into dangerous territory! And not even with their lions to protect them. What part of them thought they were invincible? There was a real war and the universe needed Voltron. Needed them to be responsible.
But no, give them an honor bound combat test or a chance to disarm an entire Galra fortress and off they'd go, happily risking their lives.
They thought themselves expendable. She had no idea where they got such an idea. Like she could just hop down to the Paladin store and replace them.
Didn't they understand how important they were to their teammates, to Coran? to her?
A part of her heart just dropped, went empty and cold, at the thought of losing him.
And Lance.
Of losing any of her Paladins. Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Shiro.
And Keith.
"Pidge-" she started to say when Hunk spoke up.
"Um, I've got a Lion that really wants to leave her hangar."
Allura gave thanks to every Altean deity she could remember.
"Let the Red Lion out. We'll follow her in the castle. Pidge and Hunk, I want you ready in your lions. We'll give Red the protection she needs when we reach P'Talaquos's base."
"Um, Princess," said Hunk tentatively, "it's the Blue Lion that's activated."
Allura kept her face composed so she'd give no sign of the dread in her heart.