I don't own Voltron: Legendary Defender. Haxor is mine though. This is an AU of the first and second season of the series.

Chapter One- Unwanted Treatment

Shiro could hardly believe it: Aliens were real. Sam Holt, Matt Holt, and he had been on the Garrison's Kerberos mission when an alien spaceship appeared and took all three captive. They had been split from one another and shunted away to separate fates. He had managed to hear that father and son were being sent to different prison labor camps while Shiro sat in a cell, waiting to learn his fate.

Whatever it is, I won't last long. My muscles are atrophying even though I look strong. Shiro tore himself away from those thoughts and instead focused on the other prisoners. All of them were aliens and strange-looking to him. Those closest to his cell were also looking at him with the same curiosity. I guess they've never seen a human before.

He spent his first week in his cell being fed by his captors whom he heard the others call the Galra. The Galra, for most part, were purple, furry, and tall. They were also ruthless to their prisoners and cruel as well. The guards of the cells would either deposit new prisoners in a cell or pull one out, sometimes to return and sometimes not. Those that did return had been altered in some way. Shiro had seen a four-armed alien returned with two of his arms amputated. Some aliens came back as half-machine creatures and Shiro worried what the Galra would do to him. He knew he would be experimented on like his fellow captives; the only question was when and how.

He got his answer as the second week of his imprisonment began. A pair of guards came to his cell, seized him by the arms, and carted him out of the cell block and through the ship's corridors. He was brought into a dim room full of beakers with fluids in them, some of which were bubbling away. It reminded him of a chemistry lab…or a laboratory. He was forced into a chair that was rather big for him and then strapped him in. Both were looking at him in a leering kind of way that gave him the creeps.

"Yes," came an elderly but strong voice before a figure in brown robes came into view. Shiro could tell the figure was female as she came closer and examined him, turning his head one way and then the other. "Oh, yes. You will be perfect once I cure you of that disease within you."

"It can't be cured. It's a lethal disease," Shiro told her.

"Lethal by your species' knowledge of science, but not to the Galra. I will eliminate it and then proceed with the procedure. Emperor Zarkon wants you as a fighter in his arena. I agree and look forward to see how you will perform with my modifications."

Shiro didn't like the sound of that. While being cured was a good thing, he could do without her 'modifications.' He was also not keen on being a fighter in the emperor's arena. He began to pull at his bonds, attempting to break them so he could try to escape. His struggles ceased as an electric shock went through him and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

Shiro's eyes fluttered open and he focused them to see the familiar bars of his cell and the dungeon corridor beyond. He slowly sat up and put a hand to his head to ease a throbbing he felt. His fingers brushed an ear and he frowned as he moved his fingers along the ear and found that it was pointed. He felt the other ear and found the same thing. He lowered his hands and stared at them in shock: They were purple!

They look like Galra hands, he thought, not liking what he was suspecting. He then looked down to see that he had a pair of large, firm breasts and gasped in a slightly higher voice. He or rather she then stood to find that she was a bit taller and her body was that of a Galra.

She began to breathe hard and fast. That woman had altered her into a female Galra. Her body was completely purple and had a soft fine layer of fur that wasn't noticeable, but she certainly felt it. There were solid muscles evenly distributed across her form. She raised her hands and ran her fingers along her face. She felt high cheekbones and smooth supple skin as well as the curves of her chin and jawline. She moved her hands further up to feel her hair and found that it was a little longer, ending just past her shoulders.

She turned her eyes to her fellow prisoners and the closest ones had looks that were half-astonished and half-sympathetic. I must have returned as I left and transformed while unconscious. It explains their looks. She sank to the floor, noting the simple jumpsuit and boots she wore. She stared at the floor, convinced that she would spend her life fighting in the arena. She would never be free, never be able to return home, and never be human and male again.

She heard firm footsteps that did not sound like guards. She looked up and saw the others shrink back into the far side of their cells before an incredibly tall Galra appeared at her door. His clothes seemed rather fancy under the armor he wore and a cape hung down his back. She deduced from his clothes and the prisoners' reactions that this had to be Zarkon.

Zarkon stared at her impassively for a good while before he spoke. "So, you were the human who was suffering from a pathetic, terminal illness. Well, you are healthy and are much better now in more ways than one."

She stood and fixed a stern gaze on him. "I demand to be changed back and set free," she said, not liking how she sounded.

Zarkon then smiled in an unpleasant manner. "Oh no, my dear. You will remain as you are and will fight in the arena…once you are schooled in our culture."

"I don't need to be taught about your culture."

"Uh, uh. Your culture too now. You are Galra now and will be taught about it, a little at a time. I think our language will be first. Yes; must start at the beginning. Your education will start in the morning." Zarkon swept away and Shiro watched, a low growl in her throat.

Zarkon was true to his word. The following morning, Shiro was shunted to an isolated cell with a bed, desk, and chair. A male Galra was waiting for her as she was restrained to the desk and chair. She expected her teacher to be harsh, cruel, and ruthless. She got a surprise once they were alone.

"I am Haxor and I will teach you about the Galra race. The emperor suspects that you will be uncooperative as I teach. I think otherwise. I have a reputation as a miracle worker but none know my techniques save for my students who swear to not tell anyone. Will you not speak of what I will reveal to you?"

Shiro turned thoughtful before giving a nod. "I swear not to speak of your methods."

Haxor smiled. "Excellent. Now, then." He put a pad in front of Shiro on the desk and tapped it. Alien symbols appeared on the screen. "This is the Galra alphabet. You will be expected to comprehend them as well as recognize them in order to read our language."

"And the speaking of it?"

"That is the secret of my success. You will learn to speak it while you sleep as well as aspects of our culture."

"Ah, yes. That's brilliant."

"Naturally. You will speak the Galra language and learn of our culture through sleep. A speaker will be activated and speak to you in your sleep. Most aliens learn quickly while they sleep, though your former race is new to me."

"The same thing applies to humans. A sleeping mind is quite pliable."

"Indeed. Perhaps you could tell me about humans while I teach?"

"I would be happy to."

"Good. Now, let us get to work." Haxor and Shiro pored over the data on the pad, the latter feeling lucky she had gotten a fair teacher and she looked forward to the sleeping teaching method.