Chapter 6 - Moving Forward

"And then suddenly, Blue's in my mind. Weren't you girl?" said Lance patting the side of the Blue Lion's control console, "oh yes you were! But," his attention turned back to Keith who stood behind him, "it wasn't like, boom, and she appeared. It was like she'd always been there. I can't explain it." Not for lack of trying, Lance admitted to himself, he was babbling. But, whistling for Blue, having his Lion blast out through a wormhole, and tearing out a section of space station wall to rescue them, how cool was that?

Besides, Keith was back to his usual silence, determined not to share in Lance's ecstatic state. There was just so much to be happy about. No longer being in that Apocrytean house of horrors, for starters. And here was the castle and the other Lions emerging from a wormhole. How great was that?

"Lance!" Allura was hailing him, "Lance, are you alright?" He could hear the concern in her voice, loud and clear.

"I'm good, Princess, your heart can rest easy."

He didn't expect his words would have her singing for joy, but a relived sigh would have been nice. Instead, her next transmission was tighter, downright anxious. "Keith… is he?"

Lance could chalk up Allura's hesitation to her still unresolved feelings regarding Keith's Galra ancestry. Or, she could be- Nope, those unresolved feelings were based on professional concern and friendship, nothing to see here folks.

"Keith's here." Lance said, "he's good too. He's got a small gall on his neck but –"

"WHAT?" cried Allura.

"I'm alright, Princess," Keith assured her, "the Blue Lion's blocking P'Talaquos's mind control."

"He's infected!" wailed Coran in the background.

"No," said Lance, "Listen, P'Talaquos's galls don't contain baby Apocryteans," a hideous image of a partially consumed corpse with newly hatched bug aliens flashed through Lance's mind. He pushed it, along with any Keith-Allura speculation, back down the memory hole, "She just uses the galls for mind control. And it doesn't work over long distances, so we don't have to worry about Keith murdering us in our sleep."

"You must bring him back at once," commanded Allura, "We'll prepare a healing pod."

"That's going to have to wait, Princess," said Keith, "We've got to stop P'Talaquos before she can do more damage. It's going to take all four lions."

"No more of these rash decisions!" cried Allura. Her tone made both Lance and Keith jump, "I need my Paladins healthy and I need them safe. You will return to the castle. Now."

"Sorry for interrupting," said Coran, "but, a large number of armed spacecraft are approaching the Blue Lion. They may be preparing to fire."

"Lance, dodge!" shouted Keith. Quick as lighting, ace-pilot Lance obliged as blasts of light filled the sky. It was so good to be back in Blue.

"Correction, they are firing," said Coran, "but you appear to have figured that out."

"Green and Yellow Paladins," said Allura, "take those ships down and clear a path for the Blue Lion." The requested Lions swooped past Blue, bearing down on their attackers.

"No, wait," said Lance, "the crews of those ships innocent. They're only attacking because P'Talaquos's mind is controlling them."

"Lance is right," said Keith. That was a statement he was going to commit to memory, "We can't harm the pilots."

"I can't let them harm you either," insisted Allura. Lance assumed she was using the plural form of you.

"P'Talaquos has enslaved a huge number of aliens," said Keith, "if we don't stop her now, she'll only capture more. Our best chance of freeing everyone, including myself, is to take her down now."

"But-" said Allura

"Princess," said Keith quietly, "Do you trust me?"

There was a pause. "Yes," said Allura. As a commander would trust a skilled and dedicated pilot, Lance interpreted her response.

"Then you need to let us do this," said Keith, "Hunk, Pidge, disable the ships, but try not to hurt the occupants. Lance will get me to my Lion. P'Talaquos will join the battle and I think I'll be able to sense which ship is hers. We'll need to destroy that ship completely. Killing P'Talaquos and wrecking her staff should free everyone."

"Sounds good to me," responded Hunk.

"Got it," said Pidge, "glad you're alright, Keith."

"We'll see you soon," said Keith.

Lance gunned his Lion. He was totally ready to take down P'Talaquos. In the heat of battle, Keith had good instincts. And he'd handle the Allura confrontation almost as well as Shiro would have.

Shiro.

P'Talaquos had claimed she had Zarkon's champion. Mavalok had said it was all a trick to lure some Galra soldiers. When they'd been sneaking through the fortress, it had been a comfort to believe that that Shiro wasn't infected and strung up as a sentry. But if he was? Or what if he was on the ship that they were planning on destroying?

Lance glanced at Keith, whose gall, now the size of a marble, was prominent on his neck.

"Hey Keith," Lance began, "you said when P'Talaquos was rummaging through your mind, you got a peek into hers. Was there any truth to her claim that she had Shiro?"

"No," Keith snorted. "She had a plan to take over some Garla soldiers and to use them to infiltrate Zarkon's troops. It was just our bad luck that she chose 'Zarkon's Champion', she didn't even know he was the Black Paladin."

"I guess it would have been a Slav level probability to have found him in the first place we looked," agreed Lance.

"Yeah," said Keith, "we'll just have to check them all out."

Keith had a tired, determined look. Lance could see he was pinching his lips to maintain that normal meh Keith look. Lance's father had a similar expression when he studied the medical records of a patient who was relapsing.

"We can totally do it, too," said Lance trying not to sound like a naïve cheerleader, "we're Paladins. We've got Pidge's tech, Hunk's engineering, yours and mine awesome piloting skills, plus four nearly-unstoppable Lions. We'll find Shiro and, along the way, stop the bad guys. It won't be like Kerobos. This time Shiro knows we're coming for him."

Keith didn't respond at first, but he seemed to be thinking hard. And then, there was a twitch to his mouth that could almost, if you squint hard, be taken as a smile.

"You're right, Lance," said Keith said at last. Two compliments from Keith and calling his Lion across the cosmos, it would have been one of Lance's best days ever, if not for having to live out a horror space movie earlier. "We won't let him down." Keith took a deep breath and with more certainty said, "Lance, could you drop me off at the main hangar?"

"But the Red Lion was moved back to-"

"I know. There's something I need to get."

Standing in front of any Lion, it was hard not to feel small and insignificant. That was even more true for the Black Lion. She was a head taller than Red and twice as wide. If Red was a puma, as Keith often thought of her, then Black was full on tiger.

He'd seen a living tiger once at a traveling circus. Keith had been eight, maybe nine at the time, and, with no money for a ticket, he'd snuck onto the back lot. The tiger, mangy and probably not well fed, had been caged and obviously not a threat to him.

All the same, his body turned to stone the moment she looked into his eyes. She didn't roar, didn't show her teeth. She was utterly calm. The wild animals he'd encountered in the desert, even the predators, always showed apprehension as they tried to figure out where they stood against a human. The tiger had no doubt. If it weren't for the bars, Keith would be dead already.

It had been the same when he faced off against Zarkon on the hull of his fortress. That time, Keith and the Red Lion had the clear tactical advantage. They were armed to the teeth while Zarkon had only a Bayard. But, with that same calm certitude, he had bested both Keith and Red.

Black had been Zarkon's Lion first.

Now she was Shiro's.

Keith had faced off with Shiro, too; they must have spared over a hundred times. Keith had insisted that Shiro not go easy on him, and consequently had spent a good deal of time eating floor. Like Zarkon, Shiro was confident and calculating. Those abilities could be used to play mind games with your opponent, but Shiro never pulled that card. He'd fought honestly, without cruelty or viciousness.

Keith looked to the Black Lion's eyes, trying to detect something akin to Shiro's wisdom, patience, or gentle humor. The Lion was still, waiting.

"Slav says you sent Shiro away to protect him," Keith tried to not make it sound like an accusation. "We're trying our best to find him. But without you, we can't form Voltron or defend the universe. You know that, right?"

He hadn't expected an answer. Even through his close connection to the Red Lion, the most he'd get was a feeling or emotion. Keith kept going. He'd told Lance he trusted Shiro. Now it was time to prove it.

"You let me pilot you once, to save Shiro. It's kind of like that now." It sounded lame. You didn't get to pilot the Black Lion by begging.

"You could make everything simple if you just flew off and got him," he offered hopefully.

The Lion didn't so much as twitch, but in his mind, Keith felt a wave of emotion so strong, he was forced to take a step back. It was irritation and frustration all mixed up but it wasn't directed at him. Keith knew that inward-focused helpless feeling all too well.

"I'm not a natural leader, like Shiro. And I'm not powerful the way Zarkon was." That was probably a good thing, "but I'm a great pilot and a skilled fighter and I don't give up. I won't give up. If you accept me as your Paladin, I promise I'll find Shiro for you.

The Lion's intensity subsided and something warmer touched his mind. His feet felt vibrations from the floor. It was coming from Black, a sub-vocal rumble that seemed like laughter, as if she was amused that he'd taken this long to approach her.

Mavalok kept a look of stoic boredom on his face as the Kyanite completed the final diagnosis. He had a strong belief, reinforced by reality several times over, that getting your hopes up guaranteed someone or something would dash them to smithereens. So he'd spent the last hour, while the ship rebooted and checked its systems, preparing for the Quintessence system to fail and resigning himself to spending the next two months in warp drive in order to get the ship home.

"System checks completed. All functions online and accessible," reported the ship.

"What is the status of the wormhole drive?" Mavalok asked in a flat voice.

"Wormhole drive is functional and accessible."

At this, Mavalok took a deep breath and whooped for joy. P'Talaquos's mind-controlled Unilu glared at him with hate filled eyes. She said nothing, because, in addition to restraining her three times over, Mavalok had gagged her.

"Thanks for keeping this ship in such great shape, Apocrytean," Mavalok figured a bit of gloating was in order. "We've got big plans for it. Big plans, I say."

The intensity in her eyes lessened, as if the Unilu was zoning out, or P'Talaquos's attention was elsewhere. After pulling up the outside monitors, Mavalok and had a pretty good idea of why. There were three Voltron Lions attacking the armada.

"Huh, I kind of thought they'd be better fighters," said Mavalok after watching them for a moment. Their aim was off – Pidge's Green Lion and Lance's Blue Lion kept missing the critical target points. And the guy, Lunk was it? was maneuvering the Yellow Lion so badly, he was crashing into ships.

"Unless …" Mavalok smiled. They were purposely damaging the ships as to not hurt the pilots. The Yellow Lion's collisions were taking out wings and engines and avoiding the cockpits. The Green Lion's plant bombs were tangling, not crushing ships. And the Blue Lion was darting and ducking in such a way as to herd the enemy into his teammates' range.

"I guess he might be an ace pilot after all," not that Mavalok would ever tell that to Lance's face.

The Paladins were also providing the perfect diversion. Careful not to draw attention to himself or his ship, Mavalok disengaged from the Apocrytean base and gently fired the engines. The last thing he wanted was to be mistaken for one of P'Talaquos's minions.

Something started beeping from a console near the front of the bridge. Before Mavalok could scamper over to it, a large monitor popped up with visuals. A ship was approaching the Kyanite, fast.

"Computer, zoom in and enhance image."

The display showed an Unilu pirate ship, a Ravenger, first class. It was an ugly beast, bloated with armor and massively over-weaponized. The Kyanite could easily outmaneuver it in a dogfight or leave it eating stardust in a race. But in this case, with the Ravenger bearing down at close range, the Kyanite was at a serious disadvantage.

Mavalok jumped over to the navigation console and reversed the engines. The Ravenger opened fire. Stupid interface. Where were those Altean barrier shields? Stupid, stupid interface.

At that point, all the popup screens stared displaying blinking warning lights, because, of course, everything was getting hit. Lovely. His mission had just been to retrieve the Kyanite, not take it into battle.

Maybe he could escape by executing a jump now? He turned to the jury-rigged Quintessence engine only to see a warning light saying it was losing juice. "What? You're not even turned on?" he asked, "How is that even possible?"

His console was detecting another ship. On the monitor, the Black Lion rose up, facing P'Talaquos's warship and giving Mavalok a clear view as the metal wings on its back unfurled. More than metal, they were glowing, becoming pure light. And that's when the Quintessence started visibly draining. A least the Lion's shields were blocking the Kyanite.

"Well, are you going to stand there looking cool and sucking up my fuel?" shouted Mavalok. If he'd known the Paladin's frequency, he would have told him off directly.

Maybe Shiro had heard him. The Lion gave a magnificent roar. Was that possible in the vacuum of space? Either way, it accelerated towards the Ravenger.

Was it going to ram it? Slice it in two? Blast a hole in it? Despite a cacophony of blaring warning sirens, Mavalok couldn't look away.

Zarkon might have banned all mention of Voltron and the Lions, but the Great Aunties would still tell stories late at night. Even as a child, Mavalok knew these legends were embellished. Just like he knew Lance had been exaggerating his role in his stories. In both situations, Mavalok hung on every word.

The Black Lion was fast approaching the Ravenger, but other than those wings, no other weapons were materializing. He really was going to ram it. Mavalok gripped the sides of the console and didn't dare to breathe. And then-

"Wait. What?"

The Lion was on the other side of the Ravenger, and they were both in one piece.

As Mavalok's mind tried to process what his eyes had seen, there was a "thonk" and something nudged his foot. He glanced down to see an opaque white ball. Had it fallen off a piece of equipment? Mavalok traced its trajectory to the bound Unilu. She hadn't moved, but there was a pretty nasty wound on her neck where the gall had formerly –

"Eww!" squeaked Mavalok and instinctively kicked the object by his foot as hard as he could across the room.

Too much was going on that made no sense. It was enough to make one's head explode. Fortunately for Mavalok, the Galra brain had evolved to function within the heat of battle. When things got overly complicated, it seized on the most manageable and straightforward solution and followed it. This predilection was why there was a dearth of Galra philosophy, but a lot more surviving Galra.

Mavalok activated the wormhole generator, and turned the engines to 11. The Kyanite charged forward. The Quintessence was seriously drained and he had idea if it was enough, or what would happen if it ran out mid-jump. Guess he was going to find out.

Coran joined the Princess and the Paladins in the Black Lion's hanger. The battle had come to an abrupt halt with two battleships escaping through wormholes and the remaining ships surrendering. There were numerous but non-life threatening distress calls.

Coran had assigned Slav to field the calls and left before Slav had time to protest. Coran's presence in the hangar was more important, for him at least.

The Lion's mouth hatch opened and out stepped its pilot. He removed his red helmet and, as always, Coran's immediate thought was that the lad needed a proper haircut. Keith held out what looked like a collection of black rods and metal bits.

"P'Talaquos's staff," he said by way of explanation, "When I got close to her ship, I could sense it. The Black Lion did this thing – I don't know what exactly – but I could see it, reach out for it, and take it from her. Then I sort of smashed it."

"And the Gall?" asked Allura. There was a steeliness to her eyes that reminded Coran of the expression her mother, Falla, had when the old Paladins were on the battlefield.

Keith reached into his pocket and dug out a small white orb. The hairs on Coran's mustache stood up. His eyes went to the small cut on Keith's neck and a sudden wave of nausea forced him to look away. Fortunately for his reputation as an erudite and world-weary spacefarer, no one else noticed.

Also unnoticed by the Paladins as they gathered around Keith, were the quick movements of Allura's fingers. It was an ancient Altean gesture giving thanks for prayers answered. The relief that flooded Allura's face was deep, but brief.

"Is P'Tallaquos dead?" Allura asked in an unnaturally formal voice. Did she think that deliberate lack of emotions was fooling anyone?

"I'm not sure, Princess. But without the staff she's on her own and a much smaller threat," replied Keith as if this was a straightforward technical report. Obviously one fool was oblivious. "Our top priority is rescuing her prisoners. Lance says there's a bunch of aliens trapped in the space station, but we'll want to get the ones in the stranded ships first." He turned his attention to the other Paladins, "You guys did a great job disabling the ships. Nice flying."

"You too," said Hunk, "piloting the Black Lion and all. So… is this going to be a thing?"

Keith's confidence faltered, "With Shiro gone…" he began.

"Yes," Allura cut in, "it was Shiro's request that should something happen to him, that Keith pilot the Black Lion and lead the team." She met the Red, err Black Paladin's eyes and he gave her a small nod. Allura then turned to each Paladin and Coran, as if giving them a chance to voice an objection.

"Works for me," said Pidge.

"Yeah, well, it makes sense," said Hunk.

"I'm sure I can wrangle up a spare uniform," said Coran.

They all turned to Lance. "So," he said, "If Keith's going to be the responsible team leader, that means the spot of hot-shot ace-pilot's available, amiright?" He did that thing with his smile and eyebrows that, from previous context, meant that the other Earthlings were going to be annoyed with him.

"Does that mean you're volunteering to pilot the Red Lion?" asked Pidge.

"No!" shouted Keith and Lance simultaneously while Coran could swear he heard two disgruntled Lions roar their disapproval.

"Blue and me just reached a whole new level of bonding!" said Lance, "You saw how I called out to her from across the Galaxy. It was like suddenly, Blue was in my mind. But it wasn't like boom, there she-"

"For the nth time, yes, Lance, very impressive," said a weary Pidge.

"But, umm, someone's got to pilot the Red Lion. Otherwise we can't form Voltron, which is pretty critical to defending the universe, right?"

Hunk's question hung in the air, waiting. Someone needed to step up to the challenge, to bravely volunteer for this critical and dangerous position. Coran had been preparing for this moment since Alfor had recruited him and he braced himself to respond. Probably should have braced a little faster because Allura spoke first.

"I thought I might try filling in for Keith," she said.

"But, Princess," Coran sputtered, "It's your connection with the castle and the Quintessence that enables our wormhole jumps."

"We've already seen that the castle can function for short periods without me at the helm." She countered. "This is, after all, temporary until we can locate Shiro."

"Didn't you say that the Red Lion had the most temperamental personality?" asked Pidge, "are you sure she'll let you pilot her?"

"She has in the past," said Allura.

Earthlings had the cutest mouth expressions. Yawns were Coran's favorite, especially when they would pass from one to another. But seeing all four Paladins' mouths drop open simultaneously just now was a close second.

"Of course, it was under close supervision," explained Allura, "But I was the one at the controls. The one sitting in the pilot's seat."

"More like sitting in the Red Paladin's lap," scoffed Coran.

"He wouldn't let me drive any other way," Allura gave a gentle laugh, and Coran joined in at the image.

They were the only ones laughing. The Paladins' expressions had passed from surprise to genuine discomfort.

"So, the Red Paladin…" Hunk began.

"…was my father, King Alfor," Allura completed the sentence, "I think I was five at the time."

"Oh, well then."

"I get it."

"That makes sense."

Hunk, Pidge, and Lance relaxed. Keith just had a relieved look on his face. Allura turned to Coran to see if he understood these Earthlings any better than he did. He simply shrugged.

From his vantage point, Coran looked at this new team configuration. Superficially, these new Paladins aligned with the originals, but over the past months, Coran had learned to appreciate the differences.

Pidge was every bit as brilliant and resourceful as R'cthkiki, but the delight she showed with each new discovery had been absent in the old Green Paladin. Lance exhibited Deogan's charm and flexibility without his cynicism or distrust. And where Lithelia had considered her empathy and nurturing tendency a limitation, Hunk embraced them. These traits made them stronger, individually and together.

He wondered what Allura's deep resolve and conviction would bring to the team.

And Keith, that was the true unknown. The Black Lion had accepted him, as she had Shiro. But Shiro had the confidence of a born leader. And Keith? He was arguably courageous, some might, and did, say reckless. And yet, his actions had saved them and their mission several times over.

When Zarkon's betrayal had been revealed, Coran and the Paladins had begged Alfor to assume command. Something inside him had broken and he refused.

Keith had stepped up to the challenge. And defeated an Apocrytean, at that. It didn't remove all of Coran's concerns, but it wouldn't keep him up at night. Now the Apocrytean, that was good for at least a month of nightmares.

Epilogue

Ogeneish Ropelmerger Borsch Logyegrater glanced at his chro-commute app. If his shift replacement showed up now, it would take two vargas and eight dobashes to get home. Five dobashes ago, when his coworker was supposed to show up, Ogeneish would have been home in less than two vargas. He hit the predict button for three dobashes from now: two vargas and 14 dobashes. The Datubuni gave his most put upon sigh, which no one was around to appreciate.

It had been a very, very long shift. Some mistreatment calling themselves GLP-Roxs had hacked the Ring Positioning System and Ogeneish had to give directions to the same 18 lost tourists all day long. Plus an unauthorized departure by an Unilu cargo ship resulted in his lunch break being spent filling out paperwork. And there was that bar fight that broke out on Crimson 12 and spilled out to a quarter of the space station. But no one was saying there were any Galra soldiers involved, so Ogeneish wasn't making it his problem.

Chro-comute was reporting two vargas 21 dobashes. Where was his replacement? Probably stuck in traffic.

A monitor started beeping and Ogeneish pulled up an image of a huge white ship emerging from a blue circle. Ogeneish had a well-developed sense of aesthetics and if he'd seen that ship in the annual Spacecourse D'Exquisite, he would have appreciated its timeless build, its streamlined symmetry and oh-so deliciously retro illumination scheme. But he was looking at two dobashes and 83 vargas flight home and –

WTQ? How'd it get to be so long? Was there an accident? Great, there was a weblum blocking the main space route. This was just –

"Hey! Hey you!" The white ship was hailing him. Ogeneish clicked on the visual and saw a purple-furred, white-eyed Galra baring his teeth at him, "Can I get some service here?"

"Sorry," of course this day would be bookended by Galra, "what can I help you with?"

"I need some repair work done. I need you to contact a hull servicing system, weapon specialists, an engineer-"

"Um, excuse me," said Ogeneish, "but I'm a space flight controller-"

"And I'm an officer in the Screaming Loraxes battalion, ever heard of us?"

Every alien has a breaking point. And Ogeneish's commute had just passed three vargas which probably accounted for what he said next.

"I've had a very bad day." And he glared at the Galra, "A very, very, very bad day." He hadn't known he could sound so tough.

That gave the Galra a pause.

"Well," he said at last, "I've had a very good day. Two bouts of combat, one of them hand to hand to hand to hand with an Unilu who I pummeled quite soundly. And I stole this ship, drove her through a space battle," his grin was more unpleasant than his snarl, "know what would really make it really gold star?"

"Um, no," said Ogeneish in a not-so-tough voice.

"Trying out the plasma cannon, I've been reading about it in the operating manual. Lots of targets around here. Or," he gave a little shrug, "you could help me fix my ship."

Today, Ogeneish decided, was not his breaking point day. "Let me see what I can do to help." He pulled up a directory service and started looking up contractors. Three vargas, 6 dobashes - not like he was going anywhere fast.

Well, that's the end of my first multi-chapter Voltron fanfic - at least one that I've written down, as a kid I used to come with all sorts of stories for the original TV series. It's a bit darker than the current TV show but (hopefully) still a fun read. Let me know what you think.

There are a few loose ends, like what happened to P'Talaquos, and who Mavalok is working for, and then there's the big stuff, like will Allura be able to pilot the Red Lion, and will they be able to form Voltron. I'll be addressing those in my next story "Learning Curve" plus introducing some new (old) cannon characters.

I'm also planning on adding a notes section to this story eventually.