(From Ashes) Chapter 1

Pride: From Ashes

Chapter 1

Landfall

The course to Arus from… wherever exactly they'd started from… had taken a little under two weeks. What was left of Explorer Team 686, along with their runaway princess, had not exactly been enjoying the trip. Even if they'd been psychologically prepared to resume 'normal' life, living off whatever possessions the previous crew had left behind made that a bit more difficult. Really, if Hunk couldn't blast heavy metal over the comms at dramatic moments, normality was still out of reach.

Not that anyone was prepared for normality, but with datapads and a few comic books they might have been able to fake it. Too much had happened… and too much more was about to.

What they had managed to do in transit was give the Xaela a proper name. Pidge had dug up its registry to discover that its previous crew had called it Boat of the Leaping Purple, which they could only assume was some slang that didn't translate. At all. After an impassioned debate, the team had dubbed it the Falcon—ostensibly for the swooping falcon in the Explorer Team insignia, though fulfilling Lance's childhood dream of piloting a ship named Falcon was a bonus.

He was at the helm already as the first navigation alert went off; Bataxi ships gave quite a few alerts when reaching the end of a course. Given the consequences of exiting too late tended to be fiery death, that was understandable. A second was sounding as Keith strode in.

"Alright. Everyone on their toes. Bring up the shields and bring us out of mirrorlock." He fell silent and crossed over to his station, but didn't actually sit yet. If he didn't have to start pacing before they landed, it would be a miracle. Already he might have been holding his breath.

Daniel flopped into his own seat and rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure it'd be much harder to man my lasers on my toes. I'd be much more effective on my ass."

"I'm with little gunner dude," Hunk agreed from the engine bay. "Ballet stance ain't any way to run a ship." Next to him, Vince couldn't help but snort at the idea of the big guy doing ballet—it just sounded like asking for trouble. Keith glanced back at him, then attempted to facepalm without looking like he was doing so. It didn't quite work out.

Mercifully, the last alert tone rang out then, as did Pidge's more businesslike report. "Shields are active, sir." The fog of light that passed for the Xaela's shields sprang to life around them, waves of pale blue and gold contrasting with the white streaking light of the photon corridor.

"It's about to get a bit bumpy," Lance warned as they decelerated. The course wouldn't bring them into atmosphere, but close enough to start getting some gravitational pull. Already the Falcon was rattling slightly as the corridor around them brightened, becoming blinding enough to drown out the shields for an instant… and then winked out altogether with a lurch and a howl from the engines. "In real space, lady and men."

"Radar contacts?" Keith asked immediately, pacing in front of his chair.

Primary radar was part of the navigation console, unlike Alliance ships which bundled it with the comms. Sven was just as happy to have something to do with himself; he missed hyperspace. Though they hadn't exactly exited into a crowd, either. "None, sir."

"Scanners back here are all clear," Hunk agreed from the secondary radar station.

Lance checked his own sensors and the main viewscreen, whistling softly. No sign of any other ships, or orbital stations, though he saw a few glints in high orbit that could have been some sort of satellites. But his eyes were drawn to Arus itself, a brilliant sphere of blues and greens covered in swirling clouds. "Looks like just a planet," he said quietly. "I hope."

"No Drule ships?" Daniel was slightly disappointed by that, but also slightly relieved. He'd have liked something to shoot at—but having nothing to shoot with kind of complicated the deal.

Their commander was well and truly pacing now, then looked over at Romelle. She had said the Ninth would only leave a ship behind if they thought it might be needed. But the fact that they didn't see one right now didn't mean it wasn't there. For one thing, Drule capital ships didn't require spacedocking. "Would it be down on the planet?"

"Not usually, I think." She knew Korrinoth's own defense fleet had only ever landed for maintenance, at least. "And nothing on the comms. If they'd detected us it wouldn't be so… quiet."

"Alright." Waiting around until someone noticed them wouldn't help anything. "Lance, take us in closer and let's hope for the best."

"On it." He pitched the Falcon towards the planet and started them forward. Punching up the magnification on his own scanners, he checked out the closest glinting object; it did look like a satellite. But it was also mangled and had a panel visibly sheared off. So probably an Arusian satellite, once. No threat to them right now. "Maybe we got lucky?"

Daniel snorted. "Us, lucky?"

"Romelle gave us Voltron, didn't she?"

"I'm still undecided on if that was actually lucky or not."

Maybe that was fair, they were just starting this Voltron recovery. A lot could still go wrong. For the moment, the hull rattled slightly from dust impacts as they moved through high orbit, but everything seemed to be calm. "We know what we're shooting for? Coordinates?"

"The Castle of Lions, right?" Keith looked back at Romelle, who shook her head slightly. She certainly didn't have coordinates.

"I'll know the area when I see it. It's near a mountain range. But I don't have anything more specific."

"Alright. Bring us down into ground scanning range and we'll do what we can."

"On it." Lance pushed the Falcon closer to the surface, into what could be considered the middle orbital zone. He kept one eye on his obstacle sensors; there might be more satellites down here. The rest of his focus went to the secondary viewscreen as the ground scanners came up, painting the world below in blurry false-color shades through the clouds. Where the clouds weren't in the way, they could see the glittering blue of the ocean, the varied greens of land where vegetation thrived. The regions they were passing didn't seem to have been heavily developed. "It's pretty."

Sven looked over at him and arched an eyebrow. It seemed early for that assessment, but then, Lance would probably try to charm an actual planet if he could…

Hunk was less subtle, as ever. "It's real, uh, planet-y, for sure."

"None of you appreciate anything," their pilot grumbled.

Daniel wasn't sure about the planet's prettiness either, but he hadn't said it out loud, so he glared. "Hey! I appreciate tons of stuff!"

"Okay you're the exception, kid."

"Unfair, dude!" Hunk protested just as quickly. "I'll decide if it's pretty when we actually see the ground, yeah?"

"If it's pretty from up here, it'll be pretty on the ground!"

"Not logically accurate," Pidge muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Sighing, Keith stopped pacing and held up a hand. "Alright, enough."

Of course it didn't actually work. When did it ever? Daniel just shifted his glare to him. "What do you have against semi-humorous commentary, Kogane?"

Flinching—he would really prefer if nobody else could call him Kogane for at least another couple of months—Keith took a moment to shake it off, then smirked. "Nothing, when the commentary is actually humorous."

Now Lance glared too. "It was actually humorous."

"It wasn't your best work," Daniel countered with a shrug.

"It's always my best work!"

Pidge shot him a skeptical look. "Then it's also always your worst work."

Lance opened his mouth to fire back, then paused. He wasn't actually sure he had an answer for that. "…Well fuck." All he could do was laugh as Vince and Daniel snorted, and Hunk gave a small chuckle of sympathy.

As they bantered, Romelle was focused on the ground scanners; the Falcon had been following a mountain range that ran parallel to one continent's northern coast. She'd spoken with a bit more confidence than she really felt about recognizing the castle. It wasn't as though she'd ever studied Arusian geography. What she knew was the artwork her people had kept with them, memories of the home they'd been forced to flee. If those materials were a bit more… allegorical than representative, they might be in for some trouble. But as the ship approached a break in the mountains, a small ridge cut from the main range by a river, she couldn't fight down a gasp as the doubts fled.

"That river valley, that ridge. Here. It's here."

It felt like an old legend had come alive before her eyes. No, it was a legend. Few Polluxians had ever dared even hope to see Arus again—about once a century there was a new attempt at diplomacy, and they were always disastrous. But here she was.

Everyone else had fallen silent, looking from her to the viewscreen and back. Keith studied the image, frowning. It was odd terrain—he could see both a lake and a stretch of desert in close proximity, and a patch of green and black he assumed was a forest partially burned away by Drule weaponry. The mountains ran to the north, and the mix of natural barriers framed a bit of meadowland that would have been remarkably defensible from the ground. The scans weren't precise enough to see any structures that might be there, but it was probably where he'd have put a castle.

That said, this was an alien planet, so he couldn't just assume. "You're sure?"

"Yes…" Romelle trailed off a moment, then nodded slowly. "Mostly yes." She was certain of it, deep in her chest, but that wasn't objective proof. "If the tapestry my ancestors brought with them to Pollux is to be believed."

"A tapestry?" Lance repeated, then shrugged. "Well why not, I've made decisions on less."

Haven't we all. If a tapestry was what they had, so be it. "Sven, find us a place to land."

Sven tore his eyes from the screen and stared at his commander in disbelief. "I… how?" He gestured to the screen. "We're in mid-high orbit operating off scanners of questionable precision. I don't have a map. You're overestimating my abilities."

"Bro, when do we not overestimate our abilities?" Hunk pointed out. "Usually works okay."

…He wasn't wrong, exactly. Sven huffed in frustration and looked at the screen more closely. The Falcon was circling now, coming down a bit so the ground scans could at least get a little sharper. Still, he preferred maps. Why couldn't he just have a nice fucking map anymore?

"We want near that ridge, right?" Lance asked before their navigator could think too hard about what he'd just thought. Romelle had definitely said something about the ridge. "Use that as a starting point?"

Of course use that as a starting point. Sighing, Sven punched up the magnification, though all that did was blur things more. Beneath a thick bank of clouds, the false-color scans were painting an area of gentle elevation changes between the mountains and the lake. "That area looks semi-safe. Sort of." Probably some sort of foothills, where they might be able to land and find cover on a Drule-occupied planet they didn't have maps of. "Looks like it won't try to kill us."

Maybe the team's standards were low these days; not even Vince questioned that as sufficient landing guidance. "Knew you could do it," Lance declared with a grin, pitching the Falcon's nose downward. "Alright, starting descent into the atmosphere."

Leaning back at her console, Romelle watched the descent and fought down a shiver. The initial rush was giving way to trepidation. This was Arus. What nostalgic affection her people had for the planet did not extend to its inhabitants, and the fact that the Drules had conquered this world didn't exactly make it more welcoming. But she was in this deep. And if they could sneak Voltron out from under the noses of the locals—all of them—perhaps that would be worth it.

The hull shuddered more violently as it hit the atmosphere, and the soft orange glow of re-entry washed over the viewscreen. It faded a moment later as the ship's systems engaged some filters. Starting a gentle turn, Lance grinned as he felt the friction, and patted the console. "Yes, some real flying. Let's see what you've got, Falcon." A sensor chimed that they were through the entry heat, and he reached for a switch he'd been pretty excited about—a function no Alliance ship possessed. "Time to wing it!" As he flipped the switch, there was a sharp lurch, and the ship's retractable wings unfurled from their sheaths.

"Wing extension successful," Hunk reported. Mostly because he was pretty sure he was supposed to report it; if it had been unsuccessful, it wouldn't have taken long for everyone to notice. He was more concerned about the engines, which were making noises he'd never heard before. The status lights were still showing optimal function. Must just be the air… "I really wish I knew how these things worked."

"I wish you did too," Pidge agreed.

Vince nodded. "Me three."

"…Dude." Hunk did not pout especially convincingly, but he pouted nonetheless. "Thanks, wrenchies."

"You're welcome."

"Any time, big guy."

Lance was having his own problems as gravity well and truly took hold. The viewscreen was relaying images from the front of the ship, in theory making it the same piloting experience as anything else. But the Xaela's bridge was not actually in the front of the ship. Now that they were out of zero-G, the ship's movements felt a little sluggish and exaggerated. They weren't—he could see that—but it was taking some getting used to.

Noting their pilot's expression, Keith couldn't help a small smirk. He had a good idea what the problem was. "Need me to fly it, rookie?"

Flipping people off while performing sensitive flying was generally not recommended, so Lance had to settle for a quick glare. "Fuck off, boss."

"Dude." Daniel glared at Keith too, again. "Insulting the pilot's flight skills in intense situations is my job, bossman. Do you see me trying to command? No!" Before Lance could express any appreciation for the backup, he added, "Need me to fly it, old man?"

Rolling his eyes, Lance plunged them into the cloud bank above their landing site. He had several smartass remarks ready for when they escaped the clouds… the problem was, they weren't escaping the clouds. Blinking, he checked the altitude readings and the ground scans. They were definitely coming down over the mountains—he saw a glow from the ground and a patch of brilliant heat on the sensors, was that an active volcano?—but the cloud cover wasn't even thinning. "This isn't a cloud, it's fog," he said flatly.

"Just keep it steady, Lance." That earned Keith another glare. Fog really wasn't that big a deal. Just a minor annoyance that meant he couldn't actually see the ground.

When you were Lance McClain, you didn't need to see the ground.

Sweeping down over the foothills, he located a narrow, flat valley and guided the Falcon towards it. Another lurch and a series of dull thumps rang through the ship as the landing gear extended. "Alright, we're going to be on the ground in three, two, one…" A brief impact, a roar from the thrust reversers, and he was taxiing them along the hills into an area shrouded by rocky outcroppings. Or at least he assumed the solid masses the scanners were painting alongside them were rocks. "Stuck that landing," he announced, shooting Keith and Daniel a dirty look.

Sven looked around the bridge and exhaled slowly as they came to a stop. It had been a good landing, and he was glad… but it also meant Keith would just get that much more comfortable overestimating his abilities without maps.

"Not bad." Keith looked at the viewscreen; they could see a few leaves through the fog now. That was it. "Okay, shut her down and let's see what we've got. We need to secure this landing zone, first off."

"I can't find any proximity scanning systems," Pidge reported, then frowned. "I suppose scouting sensors wouldn't be a priority for a ship like this, kir sa tye?"

"Probably not." Vince was eyeing the bay consoles skeptically. A cargo shuttle like this shouldn't need scouting sensors, no. The Alliance just liked to include them in standard sensor packages just in case… he was really preferring Alliance design principles to Bataxi right now. "So how are we supposed to see what we're working with?"

Shrug. "We'll have orders, I'm sure."

Hunk shrugged too. "Gotta do it the old fashioned way, yeah?"

"Old fashioned way sounds like fun," Lance agreed.

"Could be fun."

"Orders sound less fun," Daniel snorted.

"I think orders sound wonderful." That was Sven, of course.

"Viking, you're strange…"

"Alright." Shaking his head, Keith shut them up with his best command tone. "Let's get to the ramp and take a look around, shall we? Grab your weapons, we don't know what's out there."

"Yes sir," Sven agreed, checking his knife and giving Lance a small shrug. He couldn't really argue with being called strange.

"Aye aye, cap'n." Daniel grabbed one of the stolen Drule guns and flexed his injured hand a little; it was still very sore and pretty weak, but the worst of it had healed in transit. Nothing he couldn't deal with.

"Can't wait to inhale some fresh air."

"Can't wait to be somewhere that ain't either a ship or a prison."

"Will we even be able to see anything?"

"Fog clears."

"I was referring to the immediate circumstances…"

"Can't hurt to look?"

Romelle remained silent, watching the others pick up their guns and wondering if she ought to do likewise. It didn't seem like it would help much; she didn't know what to do with one. So she drew her gaive'llar and followed, though she had as many mixed feelings about the blade as she had about the planet they were on.

At the Falcon's airlock, they checked their weapons once more, and Keith nodded. "Let's move, people."

The dampness hit them like a soggy blanket the moment the outer hatch opened, and Daniel made a face. "Ahh, the muggy taste of fresh air. I prefer air conditioning."

"True that, little dude." Hunk wrinkled his nose. The air wasn't especially hot, but it was heavy and opaque and smelled like mud. He liked mud better when he was driving a crush car through it.

Lance shot them both a reproachful look. "Don't be so pessimistic, it's better than canned air. Though this is kind of pea soup."

Pidge turned to him, obviously about to ask what that meant, but thought better of it. Daniel made a face. "Yeah, and pea soup is nasty."

"True that too, little dude."

"Yeah, it has peas…" Lance grimaced too as he trailed off, realizing he was waiting for Jace to argue. It wasn't the harsh, painful shock that accompanied the realization anymore. It was a dull ache of acceptance, and he sighed as they fanned out around the boarding ramp.

The fog was certainly thick, though that had its advantages as well. Keith looked around at his team. Even from just a few feet away they were fairly indistinct. "It will hide us if there are Drules, at least."

"It may also hide the Drules from us," Sven pointed out. "Maybe we should be a bit more silent."

"Agreed. Let's split up. Sven, you lead one group, I'll lead the other."

"Yes sir."

"Groups?" Pidge asked, stepping a little closer to Vince. His fellow engineer side-eyed him but said nothing, understanding now just why he was doing that.

Keith looked at them and nodded. "I'll take Lance, Hunk, and Romelle further up into the foothills. We might find a gap in the fog somewhere." Hunk was no good at stealth, and he doubted Romelle was much better; she'd have little reason to have ever roughed it outdoors before. Keeping them to the heavier cover would be the best bet. "Sven, you and the others head east and see if you can get a look past the clouds, but be careful."

"Aww, boss, I never get picked first for stealth stuff." He couldn't see Hunk smirking, but he could hear it.

"Yes sir." Sven looked over his own team. Pidge, Vince, and Daniel—the 'kids', which he'd have had a comment about once, but it hardly mattered anymore. "We'll try to find that river and look upstream."

"Sounds like a plan. Let's get moving."

*****

The three who remained in the Castle of Lions slept in shifts. Not long shifts, but enough to keep themselves going. It was all they could do. Allura was sleeping now; Coran was down at the ground level coordinating some things for the shelter, leaving Larmina on lookout duty.

She'd found her way to the parade balcony. It was a good vantage point, with a clear view of the skies and the castle village in the distance. Larmina had never been, nor wanted to be, up here before—certainly not before the attacks. Fancy royal nonsense. Ironically, it was the fancy royal nonsense that had brought her here now, more so than the nice lookout post…

Auntie had been muttering about lions again.

Larmina was tired of being left out of whatever was going on with these lions. They were dead, weren't they? The Golden Gods had wiped them out, a pact made to spare the Arusian people from their wrath. That was what the High Priest had said. If we are faithless again, there are no lions left to save us.

Yet Aunt Allura kept invoking them under her breath. So, either she knew something Larmina didn't or she was going a little bit crazy. Or both, to be fair. In any case, learning something more about the lions seemed like a good way to spend another boring few hours of watch. The library had been scavenged down to the last book, and High Priest Teynn was underground—and also an asshole she didn't want to talk to, though that wasn't the point. The point was, neither of those would help her multitask.

Hence, the parade balcony, and the delicate reliefs carved into the back wall. She'd only seen them once before, watching Governor Tarlok's speech, and they hadn't exactly been her focus at the time. She could swear the balcony still reeked of Drule… oh well, he was banewolf chow now. As he ought to be.

The carvings told a very different story than the one she'd thought she'd known, that was for sure. The lions were magnificent beasts, maned felines striding through fire from above as they shepherded panicked Arusians to safety. Another panel showed them bowing before the Radiant Warrior. Someone who'd heard a more benevolent version of the tale might have thought they were being rewarded for their efforts, not annihilated.

One panel kept catching her eye. Five lions, standing together as if ready to lunge into battle. But what kept distracting her was what wasn't there… or more to the point, what had obviously once been there. Larmina was no art scholar, but she'd seen some restoration work done back at her mother's manor. Parts of this carving had been cut away long after the surrounding area had been weathered. She could see the shadows of wings on two of the lions, a bolt of lightning in the sky, watery patterns and a scattering of leaves. There was more that she couldn't make out.

Did it matter? Probably not. But something was tugging at her memory… Tanner's black lion toy, the felt wings pinned to it. The wings erased from the lions here—the one in the center of the group might have been a little darker than the others. She shook her head slightly, trying to make sense of her own thoughts. Why would someone bother to change a stone relief like this?

Black Lion… Auntie, what in the five hells aren't you telling me?

A sound from the sky interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up in time to see a glint of white and silver. Dovayat… the curse cut short in her mind as she squinted to get a better look. Wait, what?

It was a ship. That much was certain. But it wasn't a Drule ship… or if it was, it was the oddest one she'd ever seen. And she'd seen a few more over the last few months than she'd cared to. It was streaking through the sky south of the castle, moving west, and as she watched it vanished into the thick fog that covered Lake Almeria and the foothills.

Tracking the ship's apparent route with her eyes, she waited for it to emerge… but it didn't.

Dovayat polesta.

Whatever it was, it had to be more urgent than poking at centuries-old carvings of uncertain historical accuracy. Just to be sure, she watched the fog for another minute, then turned and went looking for Coran.

*****

Sven still wanted a map. He would've happily made his own map, but they didn't have datapads. They didn't even have paper. Good thing they wouldn't need to enlist any magical bats here, they'd be flat out of luck.

His scout team had picked their way through undergrowth, small hills, and a few bits of wreckage from what had probably been fighter craft—some Drule, some not. Most if not all of it they'd stumbled straight into, and the fog was only slightly thinning out by the time they reached the river. Good for landing site security, maybe, but he was pretty well over it.

He wasn't the only one. "I was really hoping to see something," Vince muttered as he looked over the water. They had in fact managed to find the mouth of the river, mostly by following the sound; it poured into the lake they'd seen from the ship. "Not Drules, but something."

"I'd settle for seeing something farther than five feet away," Daniel snorted.

That would be preferable. Sven didn't say it out loud; it would only encourage further grumbling. "We should probably head upriver." That was usually the best bet.

Pidge was squinting through the fog; he'd been acting a bit subdued even for Pidge. "Should we look around the lake while we're here?" He understood the logic of going upriver, but when they'd wandered right into where it ended, checking the larger body of water seemed equally logical.

It was all the same to Vince. "Lakes are nice."

"Lakes are very nice." Sven was certain circling the entire lake was not within their current mandate, but it wouldn't hurt to scout a bit. "Good idea, Pidge." He led them south, keeping the lake shore in sight without actually walking on the narrow strip of sand. There was no good reason to walk on sand if not walking on it was an option. Daniel walked next to him, already bored; Pidge trailed behind.

Vince had noticed the ninja seemed a little off, and decided to try to make small talk. He would probably regret it, but at least he'd have tried. "So uh, mechkas swim, right?" The picture he'd seen had definitely had a swimmy-looking tail.

"…Yes? I've never seen one in person."

"Maybe this place has something like them?"

"What are mechkas?" Daniel asked. This seemed like at least a marginally more interesting topic than—

"—Do you all hear that?" Sven stopped dead in his tracks, looking around and tensing a little. He couldn't see anything, but he'd definitely heard a low growl emanating from… somewhere. Memories of boar-tahs flashed through his mind and he gripped his knife, watching for any movement in the fog.

Daniel, admittedly, had not been paying the best attention to the surroundings. "Hear what?"

"Just water." Vince fell silent and strained to hear; the lapping of the lake on its banks was audible from here, muffled only a little by the fog. "Was it that?"

"Growling." Frowning, Sven took a few steps forward, trying to get a sense of where it was, but it was impossible. The sound seemed almost to be surrounding him. Unfortunate foggy acoustics.

"I didn't hear anything."

"I don't hear anything either, sir… no signs of life at all."

"It is quiet. Like, eerie quiet."

Wonderful. Turning back to them, Sven heard another growl, though it seemed to be fading. "You really don't…" Their expressions made it all too clear he didn't need to finish the question.

"Sorry, sir." Vince shrugged apologetically, though he was perfectly fine with not hearing growling.

Daniel was more Daniel about it. "You going nuts?"

Sven shot him a death glare, though the same thought had occurred to him. It's finally happened. This damn mission has eradicated what was left of my sanity. It had only been a matter of time, really… "Let's just keep moving."

"It could be something echoing on the water," Pidge suggested. He was getting progressively more uncomfortable, centered mostly on the hole in his chameleon suit where his shoulder blade had been slashed in the arena. Trying to puzzle out mysterious noises seemed preferable to focusing on the fact that his skin felt mildly scorched. "Maybe we should go upstream after all? This lake seems a bit large to go all the way around right now."

"It is pretty big," Vince agreed, and gave Sven a guilty look. "And quiet. Seems weird."

Though he doubted it had been an echo, the growling did seem to have stopped, and Sven had already figured they'd need to turn around sooner rather than later. "Seems for the best. Let's go."

"We don't even know what we're looking for," Pidge said quietly as they turned and started north.

"Voltron would be nice," Daniel suggested.

"That's my point." Of course they were looking for Voltron. But aside from a castle, they really didn't even know what looking for Voltron entailed—for that matter, even if they found the castle, it may or may not actually help them.

"Doubt we'd miss robot cats… er, lions." Vince shrugged at Daniel, who shrugged back. "Right now we're just looking for Drules, aren't we? And hoping they stay absent."

"Signs of civilization would also be nice," Sven pointed out. The castle, or anyone who could direct them to the castle. Slim though it was, it was their only lead.

Maybe it would be nice, but it didn't seem likely. "Civilization the nonexistent Drules missed, hopefully." Daniel didn't really sound hopeful.

"I had expected to run into some of them by now." Fog didn't explain the lack of detection. Nor the lack of even a single foot patrol—a water source was the sort of thing Sven would expect invaders to secure quickly. "I'm not sure if we should be relieved or worried."

"Yeah, me either." Vince was worried, of course, but whether he should be or not was another question.

Pidge's shoulder was becoming too much to ignore, and they hadn't actually checked over the beach, so he crossed the sand and had a look around there. Swirls and patterns that definitely weren't from the water were visible. The water itself was cool and clear, and didn't smell salty, so he scooped up a handful and poured it down his back before returning to the others; the burning sensation faded a bit. "There's places in the sand where someone's obviously covered their footprints," he reported. "No telling how long ago, though."

Once again, Sven wasn't sure if that was something that should worry or relieve him. Nor was Vince. "Did they look Drule?" Immediately he winced at he realized what he'd just said. That was a dumb question.

"Can footprints look Drule?" Daniel didn't even sound snarky; he genuinely wanted to know. Tracking wasn't his thing.

"No idea." Yep. Dumb.

"Unlikely." It sounded like Pidge wanted to elaborate on that, but he didn't, which was odd enough for Vince to give him a closer look. He still seemed off.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, mechka."

He'd said that much too quickly, but Vince was not about to push. With a shrug, he followed the others back towards the river. Sven remained in the lead, and found himself thinking more and more about the growling. He hadn't heard it since… he wasn't sure if he thought that was good or bad either.

Honestly, he was getting tired of not knowing how he felt about things.

They were some ten minutes from the lake when something rose out of the fog—something that was at least thirty feet away rather than the usual five, and also something that was definitely not natural. Wooden beams and ropes cut through the low clouds above the river; it looked like it was probably a bridge.

"Yo!" Daniel pointed. "Civilization!" He picked up the pace and just as quickly dialed it back down again. It was a bridge, alright. But the timbers were rough and a few of the ropes were frayed, and it generally didn't inspire much confidence. If any. "…Sort of."

Even that seemed a little hopeful, though. "Cool, something manmade… Arusmade?"

"The point is that it was made at all. Proof that there was some sort of civilization here at some point."

"Hope they're still here."

Pidge looked between Vince and Sven, and grimaced for reasons unrelated to his shoulder. "It's not… encouraging. But the fact that it exists is meaningful, and that it hasn't been destroyed also seems meaningful, kir sa tye?"

"Yes." Sven was eyeing the bridge carefully. It was shabby, but it looked solid enough, and he thought he might actually see hints of blue sky on the other side. It gave him a strangely optimistic feeling. "Let's cross it."

Cross the mysterious bridge in the fog on the hostile alien planet. Sure, why not? Yet again Vince found himself thinking about how he'd just wanted to do wiring. But it did seem like a positive sign, so… "Should we make a wish? Is that a thing? I feel like that should be a thing."

"Why would we…?"

"I don't think it's a thing." Though as they reached the first steps Daniel decided to make one anyway. "I wish that this bridge doesn't break when we cross it."

Well, if it wasn't a thing it really should be. "I wish for Arusians."

Looking between them, Sven couldn't help a slight chuckle. "I wish that both of those wishes come true."

Pidge found himself wishing he understood what the hell was the deal with humans. It wasn't a new wish.

Their navigator was the first onto the bridge, finding it somewhat more sturdy than he would've expected. There was some give in the floor planks, but the handrails were solid. Vince followed closely, ready to hide behind the Viking if necessary the moment they emerged from the fog, and stepping pretty much exactly where Sven stepped.

Behind them, Daniel was slightly less cautious, and about a third of the way across he stepped down on a particularly rickety plank. The brittle wood snapped beneath his heel. He yelped; Vince yelped louder at the sharp crack from behind him, whipping around in a panic.

Sven turned too, not quite so panicked but ready to spring into action if needed. What he found was a wide-eyed gunner staring down at the broken beam and clutching the handrails way too tightly. That was clear from his flinch as he pulled his bad hand back; with his good hand he offered their leader a thumbs-up. It was just one plank, he hadn't really been in danger. It was just loud.

"…Please don't get hurt," Sven muttered before turning and starting forward again. "Any of you. I have no desire to explain any injuries you get." Especially having to explain anything Daniel did to Lance, but it did apply to all of them. He was supposed to be the responsible one around here.

"Careful is my middle name," Vince assured him, sighing. He could do without his teammates freaking him out like that.

On the other side of the bridge, the fog gave way quickly, and Sven stepped from the cloud into… well, not a cloud. They were standing in what appeared to be a meadow, nestled in the shadow of the northern mountains. The meadow the castle was in, presumably—though they needed a better sense of the Drule presence before actually approaching the castle became an option. "All I see is plant life."

The others didn't care how unimpressive the meadow was. "But we can see it!"

"I can see more than five feet in front of me!"

Trailing a ways behind them again, Pidge stepped into the sun as the others looked around and immediately gave a strangled cry. Suddenly it wasn't just discomfort—every bit of exposed skin was on fire.

"Pidge!"

"What's wrong?"

"Ninja?"

Mijtairra. He yanked his hood up and shook his head, cursing more under his breath. It all made perfect sense now. "It's nothing, it's just bright, I was startled…" Adjusting his chameleon suit he managed to cover a couple of smaller cuts, though the large one over his shoulder blade still burned. "I'm fine."

"Uh, you don't seem fine," Vince protested. So much for not getting freaked out again.

Sven looked equally skeptical. "I know I said no injuries, but if you do have one it's better to disclose it."

Damn it. Pidge sighed. He felt stupid, he'd been holed up on a ship for weeks, plus the time on Korrinoth. He should've known. "Really, it's not worth—" Stop it. Don't harm the team for your ego. Flynn would not approve. "…it's the sunlight."

"…The sunlight?" That didn't answer anything.

"Baltans aren't adapted to sunlight," he explained, gesturing to the cut on his back. He had no doubt it was bright red already. "The treatment I used to protect against it was on the Bolt. It's worn off."

Vince's eyes widened. "Then what are you doing out in it?!"

"I didn't know it had worn all the way off until I came out here!"

Now that he mentioned it, Sven remembered hearing something about this. One of many rants he'd heard about the team's medical eccentricities. It was more than an eccentricity now… they were about to be down their ninja when they most needed capable scouts. But the alternative simply wasn't acceptable. "You need to return to the ship."

Pidge waved that off. "It's fine. I can keep my hood up, it'll go through the holes in my suit, but…"

Sven opened his mouth to insist, only to have Vince—Vince?—beat him to it. "Just get… just get…" He stabbed a finger in the direction of the Falcon. "WE ARE GOING BACK."

Everyone stared at him for a moment; Pidge finally managed the immediate question. "We?"

"Yes. I'm going with you." Vince looked at Sven; he supposed he hadn't asked permission for that, but he also didn't trust the ninja to actually go back without supervision.

Nor did Sven, who nodded. "There's no reason to make it worse. Go back to the ship, stay together. Daniel and I will look around a bit more before heading back." There wasn't a lot they could do in an open meadow, but at least they could follow the river a little further.

"…Okay." Pidge was not wholly sure what to make of all this concern, but he could tell he'd lost the argument. "Yessir."

"Come on," Vince muttered, grabbing the ninja's hand and practically dragging him back into the fog with a glare. He had never felt so much like he was taking after his moms, but he was pretty sure he'd also never had so much reason to act like them. "And you call me mechka…"

"You are a mechka," Pidge retorted. He was being very mechka-like right now, in fact.

"Not in this moment."

"Especially in this—wait." The whole context abruptly hit him. "Are you calling me one?" Vince didn't even deign to answer that with words, just shot a pointed look to a cut in his suit where the skin was blistering. "…I think you missed the concept. Mechka are cute."

Vince snorted. He was talking to a sixteen-year-old ninja who had the social skills of a feral pineapple. "You're cute."

Stopping dead in the fog, Pidge stared blankly at him—again—and tried to figure out how the hells he was meant to respond to that. Finally he settled for waving his knife a bit halfheartedly; it looked more like Hunk brandishing the galley knives than any kind of actual threat.

It worked about as well, too. "I know what that really looks like, remember." Vince had reflexively flinched for about half a second, but the actual fear had never settled in. He just slowly shook his head until the ninja lowered the knife in defeat.

"…Let's just go…" Or was that a victory?

"Yes. Let's." And then the other engineer was dragging him off again.

As the other two vanished entirely into the fog, Daniel looked at Sven and gave his very smirkiest smirk. He'd managed to keep his mouth shut about the ninja's sunburn problems, because he didn't want to die, but he could only maintain that for so long. "So, just you and me, huh?" The impending snark was practically dripping from his tone.

Sven slowly raised an eyebrow, then turned away and motioned wordlessly for the gunner to follow. This was probably a mistake.

*****

The team in the foothills was not getting any better visibility as the elevation increased. Probably should've anticipated that; they'd hit the fog in the Falcon well above the mountains. But still, they might find something useful. Or Drules, which were not useful, but would at least be educational.

All they'd found so far was fog. "I hope this place isn't just Planet Pea Soup."

"Yeah same, should at least get some chicken noodle sometime." Romelle gave Hunk a bewildered look at that, but didn't bother to ask for elaboration. She was getting somewhat used to this.

Keith's stomach growled softly. They'd been trying to stretch the food they had aboard the Falcon as far as possible, now that they'd committed to this venture. No telling when they would be able to restock. They weren't starving themselves, but they weren't exactly eating well, either. "I wouldn't mind some ham and potato chowder about now…"

"Well, we've still got some potato-adjacents on the ship. Not so much on the ham." Hunk looked around. "Think there's anything to hunt here?" They might need to know that sooner rather than later, for chowder or otherwise.

Now that he mentioned it, though… "I'm not seeing any signs of life." Lance couldn't help thinking of home. It had been beautiful and alive there once too, before the Galra. Now… "I wish we'd find something."

Stepping over a fallen log, cresting another hill, Hunk peered through the fog and shook his head. "Kinda don't think this is where the Drules would be settin' up camp, yeah?"

"Yeah, doesn't seem like it. Let's get to some higher ground, boss?"

"Good idea. Maybe we can get above this fog yet." Keith really felt like they should at least have found a break in the cover by now. Then again, perhaps they had—maybe it was just that there wasn't much to see.

Romelle carefully picked her way through the brush behind them, more glad than ever to have proper clothes again. "The Drules would probably have set up in the capital… though the governor may have taken up residence in the castle itself."

"Sounds about right for those assholes," Lance snorted. "Bet the survivors are pretty well pissed."

"Where is the capital?" Hunk asked. Iffy as the ground scans had been, they'd have been able to pick up an actual city. "Didn't look like there was any kind of major settlement around here."

"If I remember the tales correctly, there was a village near the castle… who knows if it was still there, even before the Drules attacked." Pausing, Romelle tried to remember anything about the capital city of Arus. It had not featured much in what tales she knew; the old castles and lost beauty of the planet were more likely to capture the imagination. "I think the capital is called Falastol, but I can't tell you where it is."

"Guess we'll get to that at some point, yeah? Unless we can find this Voltron without it…" She'd said the castle was probably the place to start. If it wasn't near wherever the Drules were keeping most of their stuff, so much the better. But still… how the fuzzmuffins are we supposed to find a bunch of robot lions around here? This plan had seemed better when they were still in space.

Suddenly, as they moved up a particularly steep hill, the fog broke. Lance looked around, grinning. Above them he saw a sky that was a brighter, richer blue than any he'd ever seen on Earth… but he'd seen that color before. "Beau Terre blue," he murmured, reflexively looking around for Flynn. Damn it. Stopping cold, he closed his eyes and pushed it away.

Hunk came up next to him. "Alright, bro?"

Not really. "…Always, right?" This sky is like home. "Let's keep moving."

Keep moving. Right. Keith made his way forward, trying to figure out where the boundaries of this clear spot actually were. "Fog can be so strange," he murmured.

"It's so quiet," Romelle whispered, moving a little past him. Even the wind seemed muted, ruffling the edges of the fog and the scrubby grass around them.

Hunk made a face. "It's creepy."

"No point staying here. Let's see if we can find a better vantage point, if we've found the edges of this stuff." Their commander beckoned for them to follow, back into and out of fluctuations in the fog as they moved deeper into the hills.

A low rumble broke the silence. Lance stopped, ears perking up as he looked around; he could see the shadows of mountain peaks in the distance, but nothing else looked notably different. But it was the first sound he'd heard that seemed worth worrying about. Is that growling?

"Lance?"

Turning back to the others, he realized nobody else was searching for the source of the sound. They were all just looking at him, puzzled. "Uh…" He shrugged. "Anyone hear that, a minute ago? Think there might be an animal?"

Keith and Hunk both stepped a little away from each other, listening carefully; both shook their heads. It seemed quiet as ever. Romelle shook her head also, her voice very soft. "I didn't hear anything."

"Huh. Could've sworn…" The growl was gone, but the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He had not been imagining it. …Had he? "Weird. Maybe it's just this place, like Hunk said, it's creepy…" But it reminds me of home. In truth, that was kind of creepy too. They'd barely gotten here, why should it feel so familiar?

"Kinda wouldn't mind seein' an animal right now," Hunk said absently. "Even if it wants to eat our faces, be less freaky than all this nothin' is, yeah?"

"Any sign of life would be good," Lance agreed. Romelle definitely did not agree, and clutched her gaive'llar a little tighter as she shot Hunk a worried look.

Shaking his head, Keith started moving forward again. "Well, let's keep it down. See if we hear it again." And to his own surprise, his team actually managed to proceed in silence.

…For about two more hills. Then, pushing aside a few thick branches, it was Keith's turn to freeze.

There was a house.

Hunk ran into Keith; Lance ran into Hunk. "Uh, what's with the traffic jam?" He hadn't heard any more growling, and was strangely disappointed by that fact.

Having been run into by Hunk, never mind Lance, Keith stumbled forward into the clearing. Not how he'd have preferred to proceed, but he was here now and nobody was yelling or shooting… he moved forward, the others following, and Romelle gasped softly as she saw what was in front of them.

"A house?" Lance eyed it curiously. One of the walls and half the roof looked to be caved in, and the rest was overgrown with thick vines. But it definitely was, or had once been, a house. In the middle of absolutely nowhere in the foothills. "Feels out of place."

"Some neighborhood," Hunk agreed, moving forward to poke at the vines. "This wasn't bombed. Plants would've gotten scorched, yeah? Looks like they just… bailed on it. Ages ago, probably."

Moving forward, Keith looked in the window, but saw nothing and gave a sigh of relief. "No one's here." A place like this would make a good spy post, in theory—but he supposed there wasn't anything nearby to spy on.

"Just got lucky," Lance snorted. He could've told the boss nobody was here, because he'd looked at the structure for two seconds.

Romelle had started to circle the clearing when something on the wall caught her attention. She moved closer, looking at it… and it moved, beady black eyes blinking up at her. With a half-suppressed shriek she scrambled back to Hunk, who caught her and looked at what she'd run from.

"Whoa, calm down, it's just…" He fell silent for a moment as the scaly thing blinked at him. "…It's so cute!"

"You would think that," Lance snickered, lowering the gun he'd drawn as he got a good look at the creature. It was some sort of glossy reddish… lizard thingy. "Though yeah, it is. Hiya, Lizzie." The lizard thingy blinked slowly back at him.

Romelle's cheeks burned bright red beneath her markings. "Sorry, it… it just scared me."

"We're on a ghost planet." Lance shrugged. "Getting spooked is healthy."

"At least there's still something alive around here," Keith agreed with a grin.

"Better lizards than Drules, yeah?"

"Hell yeah. Fucking Drules."

"That's the truth."

Shaking her head, Romelle got herself back under control and looked around at them. They'd been ready to rescue her from the… lizard thingy… without hesitation. This was hardly her area of expertise, but she still felt she needed to pull her weight better. You can do this, Romelle. "Sorry for frightening you all."

"Eh, we've been frightened worse."

"Didn't do much explorin' the wilderness before now, huh?"

"No." That could've felt like mockery, but Hunk's tone was as friendly as ever. "I always thought I would like animals and nature, but I never was allowed to explore much, being a royal and all…"

"Being royal sounds like no fun," Lance observed.

"No kiddin'," Hunk agreed, patting her shoulder. "What's the point bein' a royal if you can't tell people you'll explore if you wanna explore?"

She couldn't help a grim chuckle at that. If only. Her bloodline had not helped her much at all, had it?

As the adrenaline of the lizard sighting faded, they all looked back at the house. It still looked very broken down, very abandoned… and very much the only sign of civilization they'd seen yet. "Don't suppose a robot lion is in there?"

"It seems unlikely." Keith grimaced. "But we probably should check it out… though I'm kind of afraid of what we might find."

"What, think there are ghosts?" Lance laughed, getting an odd look from Romelle, but he was as used to getting odd looks from her as she was used to giving them. "Probably just some of Lizzie's pals, if anything…"

"No, I'm just afraid there might be bodies," the commander answered flatly. Lance stopped in his tracks.

"Oh sure, just had to spoil the fun."

"Ghosts were fun?" Hunk asked, circling around to the broken wall.

"Lizards were fun."

Romelle swallowed. Ghosts she wouldn't have minded. Bodies… encouraging. But she followed as Keith tried the door, finding the knob stuck or locked. Lance stepped up next to him and just gave it a good shove; the latch sprang free of some rotted wood and clattered to the floor, and the door swung open to reveal…

It's just a house. Lance looked around at the emptiness. Just a house, dusty and abandoned, and again he was thinking of the ghost town his own home had become, wondering if all of the houses looked like this…

"It seems… very clean in here, doesn't it?" Romelle asked quietly. There was vegetation and dirt scattered in from the broken wall, but very little in the way of furnishing. She approached the far wall, where a glyph in the Mother Tongue was carved into the wall. Peace. It sent a strange pang through her, yet this ruined place did feel strangely peaceful. More deserted than dead.

Lance regained his voice, starting to notice the same things. "This place feels super abandoned. Untouched, almost."

"It does seem a bit strange." Keith nodded. "But being closed up for so long…" What had they expected? He wasn't honestly sure.

"It's creepier," Hunk announced. He'd walked in the hole in the back, through a bedroom that had nothing at all except for the bed. "Looks more like they moved out than died, yeah?"

"Yeah, it's possible. It does seem like this place is pretty far away from anything. Maybe they just got tired of being alone…" Keith couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something, but hell if he knew what. And even if they were, if it wouldn't lead them to Voltron it wasn't a priority right now.

"True that. Be a cool place to rock out without trouble from the neighbors, but that's about it. Didn't even see a path out there."

"Maybe it's a vacation house or something?" Lance suggested with a shrug. Just more questions, as usual. Was hoping for a clue, at least.

"Could be a retreat home?" Romelle suggested at the same time, and smiled sheepishly as he laughed.

"Two of us said it, it must be true."

Keith shook his head, chuckling a little himself. "Well, I think we've found all we can here. Let's keep going, see if we can find any more clear spots before we have to head back to the ship."

"Sounds good. Faster we get back, the faster Hunk can make us faux potato soup."

"Fauxtato," Hunk corrected, grinning wide. "That's their name now."

"Fucking right it is!"

Rolling his eyes, Keith turned and headed out the door, with the others trailing behind him. Romelle was the last out, glancing back at the peace glyph on the wall. It felt like a good omen, she thought… or maybe she just wanted it to be. But hope was important right now. As she turned away, she caught sight of the lizard and giggled softly. "Bye, little one," she murmured, then rushed to catch up to the others.

The salamander puffed a tiny cloud of sparks behind her, and an unheard growl echoed through the clearing.

*****

Even before Larmina found him, Coran had been on alert; her report had confirmed what he'd feared. Comparing notes of what they'd seen and heard, there was no mistake. A spacecraft had passed by the castle. Coran himself hadn't gotten a good look at it; by the sound, he could tell it hadn't been Drule engines, that ominous roar that had become so familiar. But then who would it be? An ally bravely coming to offer help? Or more likely, potential spies, seeking to flush any remaining Arusians out to gain favor…

It really didn’t matter to him, in the end. The first step was the same. Heading down to the tunnels, Coran called out for some scouts. Two members of the volunteer militia stepped forward, introducing themselves as Private Dev and Private Karp. He was still getting to know the new volunteers, but they were as crucial now to Arus as any career soldier.

"We have confirmed reports of a ship flying by, disappearing in the fog over the lake. I need you to go down there and search the area," Coran ordered. "I have every reason to believe that it landed in the fog; if it did, we must find it. It probably isn't a Drule ship, but we don't know its intentions. Use caution." The scouts nodded, eager to perform such an important task, and headed out of the tunnels.

It took awhile to reach the eastern shore of the lake, still engulfed by the thick spring fog. Such groundbound clouds weren't uncommon to the region. It seemed quiet, but that was no reason for them to lower their guard. Fortunately, they knew the terrain well; the pair had scouted here recently, and even before the Drules came, this had been one of their favorite fishing spots. Anything new would jump out.

Something did, a dark shape looming at the water's edge. Karp paused and tapped his friend's arm before moving closer. "Hey Dev, what do you make of this?"

"Hmm…" Scratching his chin, Dev circled a bit, trying to get a better look. The formless mass remained just that. "Kind of hard to make out." Checking their weapons, they exchanged nods and moved forward.

Slowly walking up to it, they could see it was certainly no ship. A bundle of unidentifiable things, scraps of various materials, all seemingly fused together… Dev snorted as it dawned on him what they were seeing. Part of a compressed cube of trash, most likely bound for the lake itself.

It looked like military waste; Karp snorted derisively at a bit of sheet metal with visible Drule markings. "Damn Drules… you would think the damned sinycka who think sooo highly of themselves would know how to properly dispose of trash."

"You'd think," Dev agreed, shaking his head. "Whatever. Let’s check the area some more, but yeah… what Coran heard might just have been this crap." It wouldn't be the first time careless Drules used the Arusian wilds as a dumping grounds.

As they continued along the beach, the water behind them rippled. Two dark eyes peered out from a brightly-colored spiral shell, watching the scouts move along the shore. But they were not the ones it was meant to be watching… as the gorca plunged back beneath the surface of the lake, a soundless growl rippled through the depths.