(From Ashes) Chapter 28

Pride: From Ashes
            Chapter 28
            Chase the Truth

Much as Allura might have liked to, she knew there was no putting off facing Coran… and Nanny. And really, she'd bonded to the Black Lion and participated in battle against a robeast, she was pretty sure she could handle a panicking royal governess. It just felt like adding insult to injury. What she really wanted to be doing right now was losing herself in the memory of what she'd just seen and done, trying to make sense of it all.

But this was her duty, and one more sacrifice she had to make. And to be fair, placing herself into a combat she'd been wholly untrained for was rather worse than staining her dress, or holding a fork in an improper manner, or any of the things Nanny would once have erupted about. But the reasons were far more important, too. Hopefully Nanny could see that—she was sure Coran would—and they would get through this with… minimal… distress.

Keith was following her to the shelter tunnels; it felt like he should be there to support his teammate. His Sentinel. Besides, he'd promised they would bring her back safely, and they'd done just that. It had to be worth something, didn't it?

At least a little something?

The duo was waiting for them in the main corridor, and his optimism wavered. Oh, this is going to be… fun.

Allura winced as she caught sight of Nanny's expression. Yes, there was going to be some distress. Taking a deep breath, she took a last couple of moments to decide on her course of action.

Noting her gathering herself, Keith stepped forward, hoping to at least intercept the first shot. "Anenyo?" He gave a short, formal bow. "Lady Hys. Coran."

"Commander." The relief in Coran's tone was palpable. He'd known Voltron had been victorious, of course—the guards had long since reported the robeast's destruction. But finally seeing Allura unharmed was a weight off his shoulders nonetheless.

The same was true for Lady Hys, who momentarily forgot how furious she was about all of this when she saw her charge approaching. "Ach! Princess! It's so good to see you safe, tell me you did not truly—" Rushing forward to ensure there wasn't a scratch on her dear princess, she abruptly stopped dead.

Even Coran found that worrying. By the gods, what now?

"—Go into battle with the Lion of Storms? Yes. And it was fascinating." There was no point doing anything but meeting the interrogation head-on; she was prepared for whatever the governess might throw at her, she thought. But she hadn't been prepared for silence. "…Nanny?"

Finally the governess recovered, but her voice had gone unusually squeaky. "Princess, your…?" She reached up and tried to brush off whatever blue substance was obscuring Allura's Golden Mark, but it stubbornly refused to be removed. So she tried harder—

"Nanny, stop, that kind of hurts."

The older woman withdrew her hand immediately, but her expression became twice as stunned. "What happened?!"

Lady Hys had opened the conversation in Arusian, and Allura had reflexively answered with the same. That left Keith both clueless and nervous as he watched them. Finally he leaned over to Coran and whispered, "Is something wrong?"

Maybe it wasn't the correct question. Something was clearly wrong.

Thankfully, Coran didn't call that out. He was busy wondering why he hadn't seen this coming; of course the governess had frozen. Though really, Allura had worried him enough that letting her deal with Lady Hys' wrath on her own felt appropriate.

"The Golden Mark, or lack thereof," he explained quietly. "I had larger concerns than to ask about it earlier, but Lady Hys' priorities are generally… different."

That Keith had noticed. "It's that serious a problem?" Arusians seemed accustomed to a lot of strange phenomena, he hadn't expected this to be so different.

"Depends on whether you consider religious sacrilege a serious problem."

…Oh. Oh dear.

Allura also felt like she should've expected this more than she had; putting her royal neck on the line had seemed like the greater transgression. Taking a moment to think over the new angle, one thing was entirely clear to her. She was not telling Nanny any of the nebulous theories starting to form in her mind. "My marks? The gold burst into dust. I don't know why."

That was entirely too calm a response for Nanny's tastes. "How… why… what? Did that beast take them from you?"

"The beast we fought?" The governess nodded, which was good; Allura might have had to give her a stern talking-to of her own if she'd meant Black. "No, no it did not."

She'd also have had to come up with a quick half-truth on the matter, because Black clearly had been responsible. Somehow.

By some stroke of luck, Nanny didn't pursue that. Instead she wrung her hands in her skirt, muttering to herself. "My poor Princess… what will this mean for our people? What will this mean for your—" She cut herself off, too horrified to even voice the more spiritual concerns.

Sighing, Allura searched for some reassurance. She'd come prepared for a rather different argument. "It's alright, Nanny. I am still myself, and I will continue to serve on my people's behalf."

Lady Hys did not look appreciably less worried, despite her reassurance. The Honored Mother might have a different opinion on this matter. But she couldn't contradict the princess so openly, so she whirled on Keith instead.

"You! Did you not promise she would be safe? How did you allow this blasphemy to befall her, hooligan?!"

"Whoa, what?" Keith jumped back; he hadn't been prepared for Common or for yelling. "Me?"

"Nanny, please don't." If anything positive was coming from this discussion, Allura decided, it was that she'd gone from dreading having to answer for her combat adventure to actually looking forward to it. At least that was a line of questioning she felt like she could fully address. "You can't expect him to have foreseen this."

"Indeed." Coran wasn't sure why he'd spoken up—what happened to letting them handle this?—but since he'd started he might as well finish. "I fail to see how the Commander could have prevented something like this, when the Princess herself doesn't know how it occurred."

"I didn't even know what those markings were, how could I?" Keith agreed.

Sighing heavily, Lady Hys accepted that. She hadn't even mentioned the Golden Mark in the booklets she'd written. An oversight, perhaps, but the markings were something so intrinsic she hadn't seen the need. They were simply a part of being Arusian, until they weren't.

"I will pray to the Honored Mother," she muttered finally, in a tone that made it clear she wasn't acquiescing so much as running out of steam. Then, switching back to Arusian, she let the next topic wind her up all over again. "As I have been praying to her already! What were you thinking, going into combat in such a… a…" She wasn't even wholly certain what the lions were. "Thing?!"

Coran perked up a little. He was less concerned with religious matters than Lady Hys, but this part he was wholly onboard with.

Allura crossed her arms and made a point of answering in Common. The switch had been an implicit dismissal of Keith, and she didn't have to play along. "The Black Lion called to me. He wished for me to join with him and the team in the fight to free Arus for good."

Invoking the idea of protecting other planets wouldn't win her any points with Nanny—or indeed with Coran, probably. It did rather alter the risk calculation… she could worry about that part when it happened.

"Isn't he," Nanny stabbed a finger at Keith, "supposed to fly the lion?"

Keith just grimaced. Now what's she blaming me for?

"He does." Again Allura stuck to Common, giving the commander a quick nod. "But there is more to the lions than just flying." Even without having fully processed the battle, that much had been abundantly clear.

Nanny's only response was her best keep talking, young lady look—which was a highly effective one. But Coran decided this was the time for him to step in. "Princess, you can understand our concerns. You are heir to the throne, one of the last royals still alive, not to mention the sole survivor of the House of Raimon. To have you risking your life in any capacity is highly disconcerting." Frown. "Especially in an air or spacecraft battle for which you are in no way trained."

Sure enough, Allura was relieved to get to this part. But before she could offer any of her counterpoints, Keith engaged his mouth slightly faster than his brain.

"We can train her."

…That had already been the plan, of course, but getting Lady Hys' bulging-eyed attention was something he could've done without.

Allura cracked a faint smile, equal parts affectionate and exasperated, at Nanny's stunned expression. The idea that her inexperience was not a permanent condition seemed not to have occurred to the older woman until that moment. "Yes. I won't remain untrained for long."

"And as a ruler, wouldn't it be best for her to know more about how battle works? Tactics?" Keith had gathered King Alfor had directed much of the military response to the invasion, in some form or another. It couldn't be that out of the question.

"Yes. I have a duty to our people that goes beyond remaining hidden and protected. And I will make arrangements, should the worst occur; I understand the issues my being the lone heir presents."

The one-two punch succeeded in backing the governess off for a moment, though she grumbled under her breath—in Common, she'd given in to that much. "Bad enough she insisted on fighting the invaders personally, and you," she shot the old knight beside her a look, "let her…"

Coran didn't think those were entirely comparable. The Crown Princess leading an Arusian force to retake her family's castle had, indeed, been a necessary risk. The people had responded to her presence and fought with even greater ferocity. She wouldn't serve that same symbolic purpose for the offworlders. He decided that wasn't worth addressing, and went to Keith's point instead. "I am sure you're well aware, Commander, that being well versed in tactics and actually participating in battle are two very different things. One tends to be much more life-threatening than the other."

"It is very different," Keith agreed. "But sometimes one must do what's necessary, regardless."

"Arus needs the lions at their full power." Allura put as much finality into her tone as she could. "For that, they require a second, and I have already accepted. This is how it must be."

Despite his worry, if Coran were being fully honest, he was proud of Allura in a way. Her father had taught his children to keep independent minds, to focus on what was truly good for Arus rather than hidebound old traditions. In some sense she was upholding his old friend's greatest hopes.

It was still maddening, but it was becoming perfectly clear there was no talking her out of it.

Lady Hys had focused on something else in that last statement, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Second?" Now that she thought about it, if Allura was in a lion and not piloting, she must be doing something other than controlling it. And even Coran kept calling Keith Commander. "You surely do not mean to tell me the last heir to the crown is now subordinate to an offworlder."

Rank structure hadn't exactly come up yet, admittedly. But both Keith and Allura heard Black Lion's indignant snarl, and they didn't need to stop and discuss the issue.

"I am not a subordinate."

"No. We're partners, Lady Hys. Equals."

"Yes." Black growled low in their minds. "Even the Alpha is the first among equals. The Knights guide our claws, and the Sentinels guide our power… it will become more clear in time."

…None of that was likely to help their case with an angry governess, but it would definitely be worth keeping in mind for later.

Nanny didn't really care much for the word equals, either. But it was better than subordinate, and she could tell just fine when the debate was turning against her. She tried one last plea. "Lord Coran, you can't believe this is acceptable!"

"Lady Hys, I think it's quite clear that we do not have a choice." He turned back to Allura and nodded. "Princess, I understand that this is done—that you will see this through with or without our approval." He didn't entirely keep the note of reluctant pride from his voice. "But may I make a request?"

Allura exhaled. The worst was over. "What is it?"

"I can put rank and religious issues aside." They were not the highest priority on a planet still struggling for its very survival. "But I would feel much more comfortable, if you are to go into battle—especially on a regular basis—if you were fully trained in more areas of combat than just aircraft. Between myself and the Commander and his team, I'm sure we could easily provide a more well-rounded approach. It would do wonders to put me more at ease with the situation, and I'm certain there will be those on the Council who agree."

"Of course, Coran." Allura smiled. "I will do that." She'd hoped to do so anyway; she was going to be on a team with trained soldiers, and she had no intention of being a weak link.

Keith felt the weight of command getting heavier still, though he had also intended to train her in more than flight. "We will do our part, Coran."

All eyes turned to Lady Hys, who was staring at Allura's blue markings again. She was reeling. First the Drules, then Prince Tanner. The lions, the offworlders, the risk to the heir… had the Golden Gods forsaken them? And now the princess was going to be training in who knew what, where so many things could go wrong—so many more things could go wrong in combat! This was ridiculous!

And yet, as ever… if she was to have lost the argument, so be it. If her appeals to wisdom and propriety couldn't change the reality, she would offer all of her skills to at least lessen the damage. "Very well, if this is how it must be. But I will be teaching the offworlders our medical procedures and resources. If the Princess is to be in their hands for such comprehensive training, I want to be satisfied that they can deal with any problems that might arise!"

Now it was Coran's turn to crack a small smile. The woman could be an absolute pain at times, really… but when all other options were exhausted, her better nature did tend to come through. "I agree. It can't hurt for your team to have more well rounded training as well, right, Commander?"

Keith blinked. He could see the benefit. "We are trained in basic first aid, but yes. Knowing what Arus has would be very useful." Other than the burn salve Pidge had learned early on, they didn't know much at all about local techniques.

"Then I shall prepare the necessary resources," Lady Hys said, "and pray to the Golden Ones for all of your souls." She wasn't about to admit, even to herself, that she was including Allura in that, but…

How could her marks be lost?!

With a deep bow to Allura and a short curtsy to Keith, she departed before she could start yelling again.

Allura let out another deep breath, clasping her hands behind her back. Nanny wouldn't be the only one to take that change badly, and she'd already known she would need a strategy. "Coran, I have a favor to ask of you, as well. I would prefer to have a full explanation before the Council, or the people, hear of any of this. Can you buy me a bit of time?"

…Oh, wonderful. He knew she had a good point, but agreeing meant he would have to deal with those people. Things on the Council had settled down quite a lot since the initial revelation of the Great Lions, but they were still more volatile than they'd been before.

Still, he could hardly refuse. "I'll take care of it, Princess." He gave a short bow and a small, grim smile. "I just hope you know what you're doing." With that, he departed as well.

Staring after them, Keith blinked a few times and tried to get his bearings. "Wow. That…"

"That could have been worse," Allura said with a shrug.

"…It could've?" He was suddenly very glad he hadn't seen worse. "Alright then. I think we should get some rest from the battle and, well… that, and tomorrow we'll start planning out a training regimen."

Nod. "I will prepare myself for that, and for dealing with the Council." She was looking forward to one of those things.

As Keith departed, the princess unclasped her hands, and felt a sharp jolt of static leaping between them. In fact she could've sworn she even heard it, a sharp pop and some briefly echoing crackles.

Odd…?

There was no time to worry about it right now, so she shrugged and set it aside. She had a lot of work to do.

*****

Daniel had eventually fallen asleep, somehow, with questions still burning through his mind. So many questions, and so much annoyance at the lion who kept refusing to answer any of them.

He was going to have much more to be annoyed about soon.

—Why were hospitals always so grim? People went to hospitals to get better, the atmosphere shouldn't be bleak and cold. The flickering fluorescent lights did nothing to help that. Nor did the bustling doctors and nursing staff. They all looked so miserable.

Daniel wiggled in his daddy's arms and clutched his stuffed frog. This place was scary. He wanted to go home. Now. And he had no qualms about letting his very stressed-looking father know.

"Danny, please stop. We're visiting mommy, and then we'll be headed home. I promise." The statement was sealed with a gentle kiss on his forehead, which did satiate the toddler for about five seconds.

Okay, maybe only two.

"Daaaaddddy!"

"Yes, Daniel?" He was exhausted, but not answering his son tended to have dire consequences. It was never a good idea to ignore the little man.

"Momma come home too?"

This wasn't a new question. The toddler had asked it nearly every day over the past few months. No answer he gave seemed to be good enough. Which was fair; what toddler is going to understand why he couldn't see his mom all of the time? "Mommy is sick, bud. She needs to stay here so that the doctors can help her get better."

Daniel put his head down on his dad's shoulder in response and squeezed froggy as hard as he could. He did not like that answer for lots of reasons. Mainly because it wasn't that his momma was coming home.

"I know, buddy." He rubbed Daniel's back for the remainder of the trip to his wife's room. The moment they entered the room, Daniel's head popped up with a big smile, which was only topped by his mother's own excited expression upon seeing them. Which melted his own stress, for the moment, at least…

Was she skinnier? He had just been here yesterday, but she looked skinnier somehow. Was that even possible?

"It's my boys!" She held out her arms, eager to hold her child. Daniel practically lept into her arms.

"Careful, Daniel—"

"—Micheal, it's fine. He can't have any fear if he's going to be a badass pilot like his mommy." She wiggled her eyebrows, mischief dancing across her face. Daniel giggled.

"Please stop putting that in his head. Fear is good. Fear keeps people safe."

"Fear limits possibilities."

A small smile broke through the man's irritated expression. "I'm married to a crazy person."

"Hear that, Danny? Your daddy loves me."

"I love you too." The toddler giggled out.

Gasp. "Really? I love you most." The sick woman shifted her eyes to look at her husband. "We love daddy too, right?"

"YES! Love you, daddy!" Daniel yelled.

"I love you too, Danny." He smiled. "Your mommy, too, even though she fills your head with nonsense."

"Speaking of that nonsense," She lowered her voice, pretending to whisper. "how about after I get home, I take you flying?" Daniel's face lit up like a Christmas tree because flying with his mom was the number one most favorite thing in the whole world, but daddy always said…

"Absolutely not! You are not taking my child on your death machine."

"It's a plane, not a death machine!" she'd laughed. Full of confidence.

And that had been the last time that Daniel had seen his mom.—

*****

They'd learned several lessons from the robeast. Among them: the team's response time was notably poor when they weren't already in their lions. Counting on the next monster to just sit there and wait for them was not a solution—they had to get those shuttles fixed.

Hunk, Pidge, and Vince had taken to the chamber early. Very early. They had managed to find what appeared to be a main power cable amidst the tangle of wires in one docking station, and traced it into the floor. After that, things became simple: they just had to keep prying up flooring tiles until they found wherever the cable went.

Of course, it was one thing to have a simple plan. It was another thing to implement it in a very large underground chamber that didn't quite seem to have been built with this sort of maintenance in mind. Presumably, at some point, there had been schematics for this place. Now they had wires and guesswork… and dismantling the floor.

"I've been workin' on the railroad, all the—"

"—This is not a railroad."

"Sheesh, tough crowd."

Vince snorted; there had been a lot of that so far. "I mean, there are rails." He moved up behind Hunk, standing on his toes and peering over the big man's shoulder at the latest panel he'd pried up. The channel carrying the wires took a sharp jog to the left, for some reason.

"That's only half the equation!" Pidge joined him and frowned. "If this isn't leading us to the center point, I'm going to be even more confused than usual."

Shrug. "We're always confused."

"True that." Hunk snickered.

"But I mean, how can it not lead there?" So far the wires had aimed straight for the center of the chamber; the only reason they hadn't just pulled up the center tiles to start was that they had no idea what they might find. Accidentally cracking open some unknown alien fuel source wouldn't be great.

"Maybe there's just a big ol' rock in the way?" Hunk looked back at Vince. "Or maybe we're gettin' somewhere? Still just looks like wires, but you're the expert, whatcha think?"

"I think I still want to know who uses purple." The main power cable—if it was actually that—was gray, but all the surrounding wires were still purple. Cocking his head, he reached around and gave them a tug, which got a lot more resistance than previous attempts. "This has to be getting close."

Pidge, who was leaning around Hunk's other shoulder, squinted into the darkness as Vince yanked on the wires. "I think I see something. Pull up that next panel."

With a shrug, Hunk started work on the next panel. "I've been workin' on the shuttle road…"

The ninja sighed.

A series of complicated interlocking latches made up most of the floor structure, and once Hunk had pried enough of them loose, Vince leaned forward to remove the main tile. What it revealed was, indeed, the reason for the change in direction.

"…Yep, definitely somethin' more than just wires."

"It sure is a… thing?"

"Yes. Definitely a thing."

The wires were plugged into what looked like a control panel of some sort, with about half a dozen dimmed lights and several switches. The whole thing extended from a hulking mass of metal; heavy shield plating studded with radiator fins and laced with ductwork, but something about the design was clean and elegant. It resembled nothing they'd seen so far on Arus, even what bits of native technology the Radiant Fortress complex had still held.

After staring for a few moments, Vince realized the other two were staring at him. He supposed this was technically his area, but that helped nothing. "How are we supposed to figure this out, you think?"

"Should we poke it?" Hunk suggested.

Looking at him, then the Thing, and then back again, Vince shrugged. "I mean, maybe?"

"Doesn't seem optimal." Pidge leaned forward and shook his head. "But it's either poke it or try to open it, and trying to open it seems even less optimal."

"Poking it does have a better chance of turning it on."

"I mean that's what an on button is, yeah? You poke it, thing turns on!" With a dramatic wave of his hands, Hunk reached in and hit one of the larger buttons… and absolutely nothing happened. "Huh. That was anticlimactic."

"Maybe it's one of the switches?" Vince flipped a red one back and forth and was greeted with equal levels of nothing.

Pidge was still pretty sure this was a bad idea, not that good ones were in great supply. "I'll leave this part to you two."

"Great, cuz I still wanna poke things."

Vince just shrugged and flipped another switch; it was kind of reddish too. Whoever had built this stuff didn't use colors to differentiate, clearly. "Nope, not that one."

"Ya do the Hunky pokey and you turn the power on…" Hunk hit another button, which did not in fact turn the power on. "…Oh."

Pidge stared. "I don't know what that was but never do it again, de vye?"

"Oh, he'll do it again," Vince snorted as he continued going through the switches.

"I know, but I can try."

"Harsh." Hunk huffed with feigned indignation, but tried a different song. "Whoa, we're halfway there, WHOA-A, pokin' it right there…!" He poked the next button even more dramatically, which didn't do any good either. "…Dude."

The last few buttons and switches were the same as the first, which left the inescapable conclusion they'd been hoping against… but had probably known all along. The problem wasn't just the generator being turned off.

"Maybe we will have to open it up?" Pidge eyed Vince. Clearly he'd never seen anything like this either, but he did probably know the most about how to safely crack open an entirely unknown generator.

"All right…" Great. Vince was well aware he was the closest they had to an expert on the subject, but he was really just as stumped. He started to check the sides of the control panel for any sort of access hatch, fighting down intense irritation at himself. He should be able to do this. It was the one thing they needed from him…

"Perhaps you are searching within the wrong place."

And there was something else he didn't need. What? Wait, NOPE.

"You know…"

No, I do not. Not at all. Nope.

"You know. You have done it before."

Gritting his teeth, Vince tested what looked like it might have been a latch, focusing on his fingers and the panel and absolutely not what the lion was saying. Whoa-a, there is no voice in my head, poking it right there…

"Do not hide, cub. You know—"

"—Shut up!" A surge of denial, annoyance, and sheer panic erupted in a shower of sparks, silver lightning sinking deep into the metal in front of him. And instead of frying the equipment, the lights on the control panel blinked to life.

"Komora sa kye?!" Pidge had vaulted away and drawn his knife, though it wasn't even because of the sparks… well, okay, it wasn't entirely because of the sparks. Part of it was the sudden roar of the generator, bouncing off the walls around them before settling into a more subdued hum.

"Holy fuzzmuffins!" Hunk looked around, and could see what looked like status lights flashing on the nearest docking station. A couple of hydraulic hisses echoed from other corners of the chamber. "Little dude—how did you—that was awesome!"

Awesome? No, no, no. Vince was staring in horror at the generator, and he could hear the lion purring in his mind. Nope. He'd almost have been happier if he had set the thing on fire… because he knew. Yes, this had happened before, or so he'd been told.

"Nope, nope, nope!"

Glaring at the cheerfully humming machine, he turned and bolted back towards the castle proper.

"Vince…?"

Both Pidge and Hunk moved to follow him; both raised an arm to try to stop the other from going. And while they exchanged puzzled looks, he was long gone.

For a few blissful moments, Vince was too busy panicking and nope-ing to really watch where he was going. By the time he slowed down he was in some half-broken corridor he didn't recognize, and didn't really care.

You have done it before.

He didn't remember it, of course. The Altean ship that he'd supposedly turned on had knocked him right out. It would've been nice if this thing had done the same, at least then he wouldn't have to be thinking about it—he'd turned it on! That wasn't supposed to happen! His sparking was supposed to be a problem to be fixed, not…

Not…

"I turned it on?!"

"Does that really surprise you?"

Vince managed not to yelp in shock, which he supposed was an improvement. Spinning around, he saw the faintly violet aura and knew… and while he wasn't addressing that question, he couldn't even lie to himself enough to say he was surprised by the new arrival. "Don't take this wrong." Why are you always rude to them? "But I was hoping not to see you too."

Flynn just gave him a wry smile. "I was hoping you wouldn't need me."

Of course he understood. Vince frowned at the floor, and his heart was aching all over again. "I do need you. And Jace, and Cam. All of us do."

The ghost was quiet for a moment. "They need you, Vince."

"No they don't." Flynn could've figured out that generator without sparking at it, he was sure of it. He wouldn't have been wasting all this time and energy having to nope at a lion in his head, none of them would. "What do I offer?"

Why wasn't it me?

"Everything we ever asked of you," Flynn said simply, and he flinched as the guilt gnawed a little deeper. "And more, but you won't like if I say it."

"I don't think I like anything right now." Lately he was just being thrown around on a tide of confusion and nope, after all. It wasn't great. "Why not add to it?"

"Because that's not why I'm here. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Snort. "Doing what? I'm just trying to stay out of it."

"Doing that!" Flynn blinked, seemingly startled by his own vehemence, and took a step back; Vince found himself stepping forward. "Listen, Vince."

He didn't want to listen, yet he desperately wanted to hear at the same time. The ghosts had a way of doing that. "What?"

"What will staying out of it get you? You can't change what happened. We died." The ghost shook his head. "The team doesn't have to lose you too."

"But…" Vince wanted to protest that entire premise, but the usual excuses wouldn't come. Was he subconsciously clinging to the idea that he could outlast all of this weird? That they would finish the job here, save Arus, and he would go home to Earth like Keith had said he could? Maybe.

Was he much less subconsciously clinging to the hope that if he just didn't acknowledge the creepy lion voice for long enough, it would think better of this and go away? Obviously.

"…You should be here," he said finally, lowering his eyes.

"I'm here when I shouldn't be," Flynn countered, reaching out to touch his shoulder. But his fingers passed right through. "You know why—you know how—you survived when we didn't. You have to face that, Vince."

The touch not landing somehow hurt more—made it all more real, when it was already all too real. It muted even his reflexive rejection of those words, and he swallowed hard, shaking his head as a few tears tried to well up. The only answer he could muster felt inadequate. "It's not fair."

"None of it was fair," Flynn agreed softly, and his image flickered. "There's nowhere you can run that will make it fair."

"I…" Vince knew too well what the flickering meant. Why can't they stay longer? "…I wish you could stay."

Now it was Flynn's turn to look away for a moment, wincing. "We shouldn't… inflict this on you. I'm supposed to be helping." The ghost met his gaze evenly, and managed a hint of a smile as he flickered again. "You came here for answers, Vince. Let yourself understand…"

He was gone.

*****

Daniel was jerked from his sleep by the feeling of water flowing down his cheeks. It took him a minute to figure out he was crying, and another one to figure out why.

Then it sucked.

Slowly pushing the blankets off his body, the gunner shook his head. He hadn't dreamt of his mom in years. Not since his first few weeks at the academy. Why would he be having… wait. Narrowing his eyes, he shot up out of bed and took off towards the tunnels.

"You did that, I know you fucking did that!" Daniel yelled—once he was far enough from the team's rooms that he wouldn't wake any of them. He didn't need that.

A soft purr rang through his head in response. "Perhaps it was us both."

Fuck no it wasn't. "Um, no. It was not. I did not do that." He wouldn't do that to himself.

Daniel's brisk pace got him to the tunnel entrances rather quickly, but still not quick enough for his tastes. Pidge and Hunk were already there, having an intensely muttered debate on the opposite side of the room; they didn't notice him, and that was perfect. He ducked around one of the shuttles and took off in a sprint down Red's tunnel.

This particular 'fuck you' needed to be screamed face to face.

"It is your memory, cub. An important one, I believe."

Was it actually a memory if you weren't sure whether it really happened or you just really wished it happened? He shook that off. "Of course it's fucking important. All memories of someone are fucking important when you barely remember them!"

"She is important." Warmth curled around him, but for the first time it didn't bring him comfort. He was seething.

"You had no right to do that. You won't give me any straight answers, but you apparently have no problem digging around my head—" Entering Red's den Daniel cut himself off. "Wow." The river of bright orange and red magma was like nothing he'd ever seen before. Some streaked down the sides of the black rock walls, lighting the entire space. And it was so warm. He could practically see the heat, why wasn't he burning?

If he were someone who was held back by things like reason and logic, he'd probably be questioning why he wasn't dead right now, but he had bigger fish to fry. Well, a bigger cat.

"Still so sure it was I who chose the memory…" Red chuckled. "Nonetheless, welcome to my den."

Did I… no. It had definitely been the asshole of a robot cat in front of him. There was absolutely no chance he'd done that to himself. Nope. No way. Scowling, he took another look around the den, and awe barged back in against the anger.

"I like what you've done with the place." He was only being slightly sarcastic. This place was awesome. He was noticing quite a few more salalizards he'd never met—no, not the time. He'd properly introduce himself later.

"Hmm. I'm unsure if I was I who decorated? Memories are fuzzy things."

Red was really not subtle.

"Yeah…" Daniel was sure he'd never rolled his eyes as dramatically as he had right then. "Why make me see that? What was the fucking point?" Other than to depress the fuck out of him. Daniel shook his head, catching himself side-eyeing the magma and salalizards again. It was hard trying to focus on how angry he was when he was surrounded by so much awesome.

"You tell me, young cub."

"No. Fuck that. You're the one who woke me up before the ass crack of dawn with memories of my dead mother. So you tell me." He was doing his best to keep his tone even and calm, but it was hard. It wasn't exactly his specialty in the best of times.

"All I can tell you is what you already know."

Of all the infuriating—"I think you think I know way more than I actually know." Did that sentence make sense? Whatever. Even if it didn't, the lion could quite literally read his mind.

"What you seek is in that memory, cub," Red advised calmly. "What you seek is important to the path we may or may not forge. You wished for answers, did you not? They are here, but you must reach your own understanding."

Daniel groaned. And then groaned again with about twice the emphasis. "I could be sleeping right now…" He took a deep breath. "Okay." Another deep breath; the first one hadn't been enough. "You are saying that I chose to show myself that memory, for an answer I already know?"

"What is the answer?"

Was he fucking serious? "I don't fucking know! You are asking me to have a level of self awareness that I just do not have." All these fucking expectations.

"You should hold yourself in higher esteem." Pause. "What do you want of me, Cub?"

"To know what the fuck you want from me!" Daniel screamed. Then he winced and rubbed his neck. He'd been staring at Red's face for the majority of this, face to face and all that, but his neck was really starting to hurt.

"For you to admit what you truly want," the lion said simply.

"What I truly want?" There was only one thing popping into his mind, and it wasn't much of a surprise. He looked back up to yell it at the lion. "To be a pilot! This is not new information."

"Your persistence is fire… that is not your true desire, though it may indeed be true."

"My persistence is… oh my god." Daniel put his head in his hands and refused to look back up. "Okay, I can't have this conversation like this." He looked at one of Red's paws, which were also huge, but thankfully not large enough that he had to crane his neck. "I'm gonna talk to your foot. Which is appropriate, because it's as ridiculous as what you just said."

Red chuckled once again; this cub was adorable. "Is it? That memory spoke of the truth."

Sigh. "I don't understand. What truth did it speak?"

The lion purred. "Pride. Or in your terms, family."

Daniel frowned. "It was a memory of my family, yeah. But it certainly isn't the truth. That family doesn't even exist anymore." He started to say more, but then his eyes glazed over as the warmth swirled around him.

Another memory hit him full force.

—Six-year-old Daniel walked up to his dad with the biggest smile his little face could make. He had just created the best thing ever! He'd drawn a picture of him, froggy, his daddy, and his mommy flying in her plane. And the plane even looked like a plane! He'd managed to not scribble anywhere! His dad was going to love it.

Hopefully.

"Daddy, look!" Daniel pulled on his dad's pant leg. He technically wasn't supposed to be in the office while his dad was working, but he was ALWAYS working. How was he supposed to show him how awesome this picture was if he didn't go into the office?

"Dan, not now. I'm busy."

"But look!" Daniel whined. He always did this. It wasn't fair!

"Not now. Go play with froggy. I'll look at it later."

"But—" He would not. He'd be working later, too.

"Now, Daniel."

Sulking, Daniel trudged away. At least froggy would appreciate it.—

Daniel blinked away the vivid memory as the glow of the den returned. He could feel the hurt of being dismissed as if it had just happened yesterday. Doing his best to shake it away and not get pissed off, he turned to Red. "Okay I'm assuming that was you too? Oh wait, I'm sorry, it was 'us'."

He wasn't doing the best job at not getting pissed.

"Us, me, you… Perhaps those lines will blur someday." Red purred and curled his warmth around him, which was far more intense in the den. "You miss him."

On gut reaction Daniel snorted, "No I…" But then he stopped. He'd already admitted to himself that he missed him, during his earlier conversation with Lance. What was the point of denying it now? "Yeah, I guess I do."

"Isn't that natural?"

"No. I shouldn't miss him at all, he's… whatever." He didn't want to think about this. He needed a break. Climbing up on Red's paw he did his best to get comfortable. "You irritate me."

"Ah. That seems to be a common reaction."

The surrounding heat was relaxing him, even if the metal was uncomfortable. "Maybe you should try to be less irritating."

"I fear that may be impossible… I am meant to irritate." Red brought them back to the topic at hand. "You seek more than you are saying."

Groan. "No I don't. Didn't you get it? In the first one it was my mom promising to take me flying. In the second I drew a picture of us all flying." How was he not getting this?

"Your persistence is fire… yes, but why, cub? Why flying?"

"Because my mom flew, and it's fucking awesome and it's what I've wanted since before I can remember." Why was Red trying to take this from him?

"Your mother, yes. The head of your first pride."

Frown. "I really really don't understand what you're saying. I'm trying here, okay?" It felt like Red wanting to give him answers should be encouraged, but it would be better if the lion would actually give him the damn answers. "But everything you're saying or reminding me of here is about my desire to be a pilot. Which according to you isn't my true desire." It was the most stupid thing he'd ever heard. He was so frustrated, and exhausted… and it was really warm. Which made sense, he was in a volcano, but it was making it very hard to stay awake.

"It is tied to your love of her."

"No shit!" That was a big reason he loved piloting! It was too early and too warm for this bullshit. "Know what, I can't do this right now. I'm tired. I'm taking a nap."

Chuckling softly, Red curled his warmth around Daniel, knowing more dreams would come.

*****

"I'm gonna go after him."

"Absolutely not. We need to access all these control panels and you're the best at yanking up the floor. I'll go after him."

"Uh, you still kinda get stabby when you're freaked. I'll go after him."

"You'll probably scare him. I'll go after him."

"I'll scare—like you won't! I'll go after him!"

Hunk and Pidge had been going back and forth for a few minutes, and maybe both subconsciously realized neither of them should actually be chasing Vince down. Still, Hunk was a little startled to hear Yellow abruptly weigh in.

"Remain and keep Windseeker with you, Earthwarder. The stubborn cub is not amenable to logic at this time."

Oh, you're tryin' to convince him with logic instead of just hammering it into his skull?

There was a pause that felt too long—though it probably wasn't—and too sketchy—which it definitely was. "Yes. Yes, that is what I'm doing."

Hunk's eyes narrowed slightly. Yella Fella, I think you better start givin' me some details, or I'm gonna find an arc welder and figure out how to make you uncomfortable with it.

The lion gave a rather disconcerted growl. "That seems unnecessary?"

Dunno if it's necessary until you tell me what's goin' on. Vince did seem to be taking the lion stuff about a hundred times harder than anyone else. Part of that could probably be chalked up to him being, well… Vince. But Hunk had a sneaking suspicion part of it was also Yellow being, well… Yellow. Don't make me come over there… actually know what, too late.

"Hey look, ninja. How's bout we stop arguing about Vince and you can just watch the generator for a minute? Make sure it doesn't go kaboom without me? I need a few."

Pidge gave him an irritated look. "Fine." Hunk not elaborating, or over-elaborating, on that meant it was important, no doubt, but the timing was suboptimal… the big engineer gave him an apologetic nod before heading down Yellow's tunnel, and he shook his head. Green, do you know what's going on?

"I believe my brother is in trouble with his Knight," she answered after a moment. "Something about being threatened with an arc welder."

…Maybe he didn't want to know after all.

Hunk didn't go all the way to Yellow's den. Just far enough that he could yell down the tunnel without Pidge hearing. Yelling in his brain was just so… unsatisfying. "Okay Yellow, what's it gonna be? Answers or arc welder?"

The lion gave a low, resigned growl. "The cub rejects my voice even more strenuously than you did, so I have been working through intermediaries. They have made some progress, and it is best you not interrupt."

Intermediaries? "Lemme guess. Ghosts?"

"Yes. Three of them."

Hunk blinked, started to ask why the number was important, then stopped. Wait a minute. Three ghosts. Three ghosts that were making some progress with Vince, who wanted nothing to do with ghosts… and that Yellow seemed to be dancing around actually talking about…

"You did not."

"There, you comprehend."

"You did not!"

"I suppose this means I will get this 'arc welder' anyway." The lion didn't exactly sound apologetic, but he did sound even more resigned. "Yes. I enlisted the assistance of your fallen, and one of them is with him now."

"And who the hell told you it was okay to do THAT?!"

"You did not object when I offered to investigate their status."

Hunk blinked. "You—" He had offered that, hadn't he? "Dude, that's a whole 'nother thing. I didn't say bring 'em here to go all Arusian Christmas Carol on the nervous wrenchie! Not cool!"

"I had to reach him somehow, Earthwarder. It would not have been my first choice, but it was my only choice."

"Uh, you've got me?"

"Yes, and I know you would have been willing to assist. But it was not workable."

Oh, right. Back to that doing it themselves thing. Hunk was kind of over that, especially after finding out what Voltron actually was. "Dude. We're a Pride, yeah? We work together to make a giant robot out of smaller giant robots that we're bonded to? Why are we s'posed to not help our teammates join the team?"

"It is our nature… I do not think it was always like this. A Pride that existed already, being called to us." Yellow gave an odd, agitated purr. "Each of our Bonded must find their own way, because the choice cannot be as simple as peer pressure. Yet it can be as simple, and as complicated, as wishing for a place in a Pride. The balance is difficult."

Calling Yellow clear as mud felt like it would only encourage him, so Hunk fought down the urge. "Bad answer. I'm gonna talk to him."

"You must not, Earthwarder. This is a path he must walk—"

"—On his own, right, except that ship kinda sailed when you dropped the ghosts of our dead friends on him, so that can screw right off."

That actually made Yellow hesitate. Or, maybe more surprising, it made him reconsider. He was quiet for long enough that Hunk wondered if he'd gone to talk to Vince instead—was that even how it worked? Could the lions have more than one conversation at once?

In any case, he finally growled in frustration. "You do not understand… I will explain."

"Yeah? That's a first."

"We do not withhold answers for our amusement, Earthwarder." Hunk raised an eyebrow in the direction of the den, and the lion answered with a purr of acknowledgment. "…Usually."

"Keep talkin'."

"The cub must face what lies within him. No number of discussions with the living will bring him to terms with his visions of the dead. I would gladly have worked through other spirits… but much as we could not call to the living of this world, he sees ghosts I cannot speak to. Your fallen were tethered here by your memories, and not unwilling to be of aid."

What surprised Hunk most was that that explanation made perfect sense. So far as it went, at least; it still didn't explain why he couldn't be in on the process. "Okay. So he's gotta do the ghosty things too, but I'm still gonna talk to him, so if there's anything else I need to know you probably oughta spill it, like, now."

He could feel the lion seriously considering that. "There is much even I do not know, Earthwarder. But… I wish the cub to be my Sentinel, yes. And even if he were less resistant to my voice, he could not bond without coming to terms with his abilities. But the two are not intrinsically related, I think. Guide him, if you will, to finding peace with himself—but the bonding must remain his own path."

"Fair enough." Frown. "You say they're not intrinsically related, but you seem to know what's up with him, yeah?"

"Less than you think."

Oh. Of course. "And we're back to more questions." Sigh. "He wants answers."

"No, he does not. But he needs them nonetheless."

…That actually also rang true. "Okay." He probably couldn't accomplish any more by yelling at the ancient metal cat. "I will be havin' a chat sooner and not later, but I'm gonna give 'im some space right now. See what we can do with these shuttles. Maybe find an arc welder, just in case."

Yellow gave another mildly concerned growl. "Harsh, but perhaps fair."

"You know it." Shaking his head, Hunk started back to the main chamber.

His lion had some really questionable ideas sometimes.

*****

—The cop was completely overreacting. And the tight shoulder grip was definitely a little much. They were in front of his house, where was he gonna go?

He'd been picked up by this officer before, he was sure of it. He didn't remember his name, but he'd given him a nickname… what was it? It had something to do with a jelly donut. Some stereotypes were true. Daniel thought it over and gave the bulky man a big smile as he rang the doorbell.

This was going to be interesting, one way or another.

His father opened the door, and his face immediately morphed into a look of pure exhaustion. Or irritation. Both of those looked eerily similar on his dad. He stared down at Daniel with an unreadable expression before lifting his head to meet the cop's gaze.

"Is this your son?" the cop wheezed out, as if he were out of breath from the walk from his car to the door. Daniel wrinkled his nose. This guy had caught him? Seriously? That was definitely a blow to his ego.

His dad blinked his blue eyes a couple of times before answering. "Yes… what did he do?"

The man looked smug, as if he were getting the thirteen-year-old in some sort of significant trouble. If this got Daniel anything other than a half-assed grounding, he'd eat his hoverbike. Though that could be pretty hard, seeing as his bike was now at the bottom of a canyon in teeny tiny pieces.

So many mistakes had been made that day.

"He and a few others were caught canyon jumping with hoverbikes." That was not one of the mistakes. "Which I'm sure you are aware is highly illegal all on its own, even without the underage operation." That wasn't either.

His dad just rolled his eyes. "I'm assuming he's not being charged."

"No, but this is his second offense, and if this happens again he will be. May I suggest you get your child under control?"

Oh, he should not have done that. Dr. Brennan did not like being criticized. Or challenged by others at all, really.

Mr. Jelly Donut shoved Daniel into his father, who caught and manhandled him into the house with ease. Then he scoffed. "May I suggest you try eating some vegetables? All that labored breathing, you might have a heart attack on the way back to your car." The front door closed with a slam before the officer could respond.

Daniel snorted in appreciation of the snark, but it didn't last. His dad locked the door before turning towards him. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Daniel thought he'd have to figure out a way to reach his bike so he could eat it; the tiny pieces probably were bite sized, at least?

"…Go to your room. You're grounded." He turned and walked away without waiting for Daniel to respond, leaving his son staring after him. That had felt a little anticlimactic after all.

At least he didn't have to eat his bike.—

Waking up, Daniel was grateful he didn't jerk to his senses this time. At least he'd gotten a couple hours of sleep before being so rudely awakened, and he wasn't in nearly as much emotional turmoil as he'd been after the last two.

"Nap well?" Red asked pleasantly.

"No." Eyeroll. "That one didn't even have anything to do with piloting!"

"No, it did not."

Daniel took a deep breath. "Okay." He hopped off of the lion's paw, stretching and trying to resist pacing. "Lemme think this through." This being confused bullshit was for the birds. And everyone knew how he felt about birds.

"Indeed," Red purred as waited for the cub to gather his thoughts.

…He totally started pacing. "You said it had something to do with family, and not piloting. Which seems counterproductive in this situation, because me wanting to be a pilot is what's making me not want to say yes to you." And a healthy dose of distrust of authority, but anyway. "So you'd think piloting would be the focus of this discussion, but whatever."

Red just purred again. He was irritating like that.

"So. First lion-induced memory, dying mother but happy-ish family." He was not going to think about how much that sentence hurt. "Second, dead mother, unhappy family." More ouch. "Third, dead mother, distant dad, non-existent family." Muted ouch, but still ouch.

"Is it non-existent?"

"Basically." Sigh. "What am I missing? Other than answers to what the hell I'd be doing in your backseat." And he was still super bitter about that, but apparently Red had bigger concerns. And clearly lions addressed things on their own schedules.

"The role is vast, cub… and your father is alive."

He wasn't going to leave that one alone was he? "He wants nothing to do with me. We… we agreed, he'd never have to see me again. That's what he wanted." Oh, no. He did not want that memory. He remembered it vividly enough without a lion enhancement.

Red purred, once again reaching out with warmth. "Pain sometimes must be faced."

"Why?" Daniel was desperate to not have to think about that night. There had to be another way to get answers.

"To open our minds, or eyes, to see what we seek."

That made no sense, and he had no desire to see and actually analyze that memory. But… he wanted answers.

Fine.

"…If my mind doesn't magically tell me what you mean after this, I'm leaving and you can find yourself another backseater." If he had to go through this and it didn't solve anything, this lion shit wasn't worth it.

Red growled serenely. "I must live with the risk."

Well this would just be fucking fantastic.

*****

The day was in full swing as Romelle and Sven made their way to the shelters; the underground corridors were busier than usual. A couple of militia hunting parties were making a triumphant, or at least successful, return, and the guard patrols seemed to have been stepped up a notch. Probably a reasonable response to having a giant monster turn up in the meadow.

Glancing back to make sure Sven was still behind her, Romelle nearly ran into a guard rounding a bend; after a hasty apology on both sides, she resolved to take the corners more carefully.

Sven was, indeed, still behind her. "Who is it we're meeting again?"

"Her name is Miralna, she's… one of the Golden Knights. She said she needs to show something to one of the lion pilots." Romelle had been more than a little stunned to have the knight seek her out, and was trying to just see it as a good sign rather than dwelling on all the reasons it felt wrong. "You were the first one I found."

The navigator raised an eyebrow at that, but it wasn't false. He was the first one she'd found. Of course, his room had also been the first place she'd looked. He was the team's second, after all… and still one of the saner ones.

He didn't press the issue. "Did she tell you what it is she wanted to show us?"

"No." She was genuinely curious about that. Fortunately, logistics would demand her presence. "And she doesn't speak Common, that's why she asked me."

"Hmm." Nodding, Sven decided speculation was pointless. Though he was interested.

Waiting near the entrance to the shelter network, Miralna was a bit nervous… or perhaps the better word was agitated. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that she should be running this by someone, some higher authority. And she kept coming back to the fact that where the sacred charge of the Knights of Light was involved, there were no higher authorities left. She had to do what seemed best…

She was relieved when Romelle arrived, with one of the other offworlders in tow.

"Miralna, this is Sven, the pilot of the Blue Lion."

"Nice to meet you."

Though she didn't speak any Common, that phrase sounded familiar—the last Earthling she'd been introduced to may have said something similar. She answered before Romelle even needed to translate. "Anenyo. It's an honor."

"Anenyo." Sven had been practicing more, and thought he had that one down now.

Nodding, the knight motioned for them to follow, and moved down one of the tunnel's side branches. "Allow me to explain as we walk." She spoke slowly, giving Romelle time to translate. "Before the invaders came, I was one of the Knights of Light. We were a small, dedicated sect with a single charge, one we gave our lives and even our lineages for."

"That… is some dedication," Romelle murmured, both in Arusian and Common. Sven nodded his agreement, listening intently.

"We protected a weapon. A blessed sword which was wielded by a great hero in the War of Golden Revival—or perhaps a contemporary replica of that blade. Even we didn't know which, but it was held as sacred either way."

As she translated that, Romelle wondered if she'd brought the wrong pilot after all. Something similar had occurred to Sven, but he was still curious to hear where this was going.

"When the Drules struck we remained in our enclave with our charge, until the High King called all the remaining knights for a final stand." She lowered her eyes for a moment. "I do not know if you've been told of the Battle of Zohar."

That didn't sound familiar. In fact, neither could remember the Arusians mentioning any specific battles of the invasion at all. "I don't believe we have."

Miralna took a deep breath before continuing; she'd expected as much, but that didn't make it easier. "We lost our King, and nearly every knight who answered his call. The crown of the House of Raimon was taken. We would have lost even his body, were it not for…" She paused a moment. What she'd seen in that battle was still so impossible. But if anyone should understand impossible, the pilots of the Great Lions should be it. "…The intervention of the mountain gryphons."

Romelle had to take a few moments to keep her composure before translating that. The Arusian knights had been through so much, and she kept seeing the ones on Korrinoth… stop it. She had a duty right now, she couldn't stop to scold herself. Again.

Even before the translation, Sven could tell from the way the knight's tone shifted that her last statement must be something important. And he hadn't been wrong. "Black Lion's pets?"

Miralna's eyes widened. "They are… they are creatures of the Great Black Lion?"

"So we've been told, yes." Romelle still wasn't entirely certain what a gryphon actually was, though Daniel's description the first time they'd come up had sounded formidable.

"They seemed so intelligent. As though they knew precisely the stakes of our losing battle." The memory sent a small shiver through her even now, but the new information felt… correct. It all falls together, in ways we could not see. "What you say makes sense."

Sven and Romelle exchanged a sardonic glance behind the knight's back. Not because of her story, not at all. But things making sense around here was a novelty.

They were coming up on their destination now, and Miralna concluded her tale. "Once I knew the High King's body was being carried to safety, I fulfilled the task of my order and fled with the sacred blade. Other than when we reclaimed the castle, it's been kept locked away as a precaution."

Yet she needs a lion pilot to see it, Sven mused. "Why is it so important for us to see this weapon?"

"You will understand." She led them into a partially hidden side chamber—it looked like it had been more of a storage cache than a functional room. All that occupied it now was a battered chest. It was clearly made of different kinds of wood on either end, as though two containers had been spliced together to hold something a bit too large. "The origins of the blade, as I said, are a mystery. But…" Unlocking the chest, she withdrew a roll of tattered fabric that might have once been a banner; there was reverence in her motions as she unwrapped it, then turned and held the blade out to them.

Sven stared. "That looks…" The blade was smooth and straight for most of its length, but branched out into several sharp points at the tip. Up until yesterday, he'd have said he had never seen anything like it. But now? "That looks exactly like Voltron's sword."

Romelle had not seen that part of the battle. "It does?"

"Yes." Exactly may have been a slight stretch; the Blazing Sword had an ethereal, crystalline quality to it, befitting a probably-magical energy weapon. But the sword Miralna was holding seemed as close as normal materials were likely to get. The silvery blade shifted slightly in color at different angles, and the blue crystals encrusting the hilt were cut and laid out in a practical grip pattern rather than as gaudy decor.

Swords were not his thing, but yes, this seemed significant.

Romelle was transfixed by the weapon; it was beautiful. The urge to reach out and touch it came and went—well, truthfully it didn't go anywhere, but she resisted it because it didn't seem like the correct course of action. …Also, she'd entirely forgotten to translate that last exchange, and quickly scrambled to catch up.

"It is the task of the warriors to safeguard the shelter entrances when we are attacked," Miralna explained. "It is not precisely a part of our task to hide at the doorways and watch the battle…" A wry smile flickered across her lips. "It does not stop us from doing so. When I saw the blade of the Great Lion Knight, well…" She shook her head. "I must wonder if this blade is meant to belong to you."

"I certainly don't know." Sven was also feeling a visceral desire to grab the sword, which was exactly the opposite of how he usually felt about swords. It would definitely be improper to do so, though. "I'd think if anyone, we should show this to Keith." He'd barely finished speaking before he heard a low growl in his mind. Blue?

"There… there is something to this, Icehunter."

You wouldn't happen to know what?

"I'm afraid not."

Par for the course, he supposed.

Keith, that was their commander's name, Miralna remembered. He did know his blades. "I will seek him out, if you think that would be best."

"It might… Blue at least says there is some connection. Though she doesn't know precisely what."

Dutifully, Romelle translated his words without thinking too much about them—or more to the point, without thinking about who she was translating to. It sounded perfectly normal to her. But Miralna's head snapped up, and she looked at Sven in some bewilderment. Maybe even awe.

"They… they speak to you?"

…Ah yes, that had kind of buried the lede, hadn't it?

"They're very chatty."

"And sometimes at inopportune moments."

"Not the most straightforward, either."

"They've apparently forgotten a great deal."

Taking that in, Miralna nodded slowly. It made her path clear… almost easy, even. She had not been wholly prepared to place herself in the service of offworld strangers on the basis of so many unknowns. This was, after all, the charge she'd pledged her life to. But the Great Lions were the charge the High King had given his life for. If it was their voices calling the shots, it was different.

"In that case…" She straightened, saluting with the sword. "I am the last of the Knights of Light. I place myself at the service of the Great Lions and their warriors; whatever you feel must be done with the blade, I will strive to fulfill."

Sven blinked. Once again, he had no idea what she'd just said, but the gravity of it was clear… also, Romelle was staring and forgetting to translate again, so it must have been quite something.

She caught up a second later, and he blinked again. Yes, that was definitely something. And apparently it was going to be his job to answer it.

Why did he keep getting put in positions of authority?

"…Tell her to keep it safe for now." The team was decidedly not better-equipped to handle such a weapon than the knight who said she'd given up her lineage to do so. "I'll inform the team, but I think we need to wait and see if the lions remember anything more about its significance before we take any action."

Alternately, Keith would feel the same way about a mysterious sacred sword that Sven himself felt about the lions' faster-than-light travel, and Miralna would get another visit in short order. But it felt like the commander had enough to worry about right now as it was.

Nodding, Romelle decided to try to dress that up a little bit. A vow from a Golden Knight was certainly not something she'd seen herself accepting, even in translation… "We ask you to continue protecting the sword for now. Hopefully the lions will remember something more now that you've brought it to their attention, but until then, it's best left in your hands."

Miralna returned the nod. The Princess had said many answers had been lost, and she understood a bit herself about the mists of myth. Perhaps more now than she had before. "I will carry out my duty so long as it is required."

"And we sincerely thank you for it."

Wrapping and locking the sword away with the same reverence as when she'd retrieved it, the knight was too preoccupied to notice how her companions were reacting. Romelle felt a shiver run down her spine; a chill of finality as the chest clicked shut, as though part of herself had been locked away with it. Purring rang through her mind, and she wondered if it was herself or Blue truly having those feelings. Sven was also having a hard time looking away, even after the lock was in place. Whenever they did get the chance, he was very curious how the others would react to the blade; was this how Keith and Lance had felt about those metal fragments? Was it something else?

"Shall I guide you back?" Miralna asked, setting the chest back into its alcove; the other two startled slightly, but it broke them free of the moment. "The paths in this area are a bit of a maze, by design."

Having noticed that on their way in, Romelle nodded even before getting Sven's agreement. "Thank you, yes, we'd appreciate it."

Neither of them could resist one last glance over their shoulders as they left the sacred blade behind.

*****

—"I am not signing this."

His dad slid the Galaxy Alliance Academy consent forms back across the table, frowning. Daniel looked from his dad to the papers and then back again, completely confused.

"Why not?"

The fifteen-year-old hadn't expected that at all. Honestly, he thought his dad would be ecstatic… well, not ecstatic. Dr. Brennan didn't get ecstatic about anything that wasn't at least a few hundred years old, and Daniel was more than a couple years too young to meet that criteria. But resistance to him leaving hadn't even occurred to him as a possibility.

"Why do you even want to go?" His dad's face was contorted as if he were just as confused as Daniel.

"I wanna fly." How was that not obvious? "Like mom." That should also be obvious. Though why he kept expecting his dad to notice obvious things, he didn't know.

"Then go get your civilian pilot license, like your mother." The like your mother was spat at him, as if he were stupid for choosing to do otherwise.

Daniel had considered that, he really had. Piloting cargo planes, flying civilians around, or even joining the racing circuit… he'd be just like his mom. He'd totally rock it, too. But after talking to the Alliance recruiter, the decision to go military had felt right. There were downsides—it was the military—but still, definitely right. He would get to be like his mom and shoot guns.

"You are going to completely screw up your future."

Excuse him, what? "Screw up my… what are you talking about?" That was not the reasoning he'd been expecting. Actually, he hadn't been expecting a refusal of any kind, so he hadn't had any expectations for the reasons behind said refusal. But this didn't make any sense! His dad usually at least made an irritating amount of sense.

"The military isn't like here, Daniel. If you make mistakes or step out of line, there are real consequences! And not just for you. It wouldn't just be your future on the line, it'd be mine. You screw up and my reputation, my entire career could get screwed along with you."

Okay, now that definitely sounded more like his dad.

"I'm not going to screw up!" He wouldn't. He could do this.

"You always screw up. Accidentally, and on purpose."

Ouch. "That's not fucking true!" …Or maybe it kind of was.

"Are you kidding me? You can't go two weeks without getting into some sort of trouble. Do you really think that'll change at the Academy? No. I work with these people, Daniel."

"I… I…" Stuttering, Daniel shook his head. This was so fucking wrong, but he couldn't think of an argument against it. Everything he was saying was true, but…

Fuck.

"Reputation is everything in my field, and you will ruin it. All because you want to fly." His dad ran his hands through his hair and looked angrier than Daniel had seen him… ever, really.

"Mom would—" Daniel had regretted it as soon as he'd said it, but that was his thing. Why deviate from the pattern now?

"Don't! You have no idea what your mother would have done—"

"—I know she would have been way better fucking parent," he snapped. His dad wasn't the only person who could angrily cut people off.

"Don't you dare criticize my parenting. You have no idea how hard it is to parent a kid as frustrating as you! Every time I turn around, you're doing something you're not supposed to!"

"You're frustrated? You? Are you fucking kidding me?" Daniel was started now. "You're never around to be frustrated. I don't know if you know this, but to get frustrated with someone, you'd have to tear yourself away from your old rocks and bones and actually be around them. And we both know you can't do that. The dead shit you're studying might get deader."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is the career that pays for the roof over your head and the food you eat unimportant to you? I'd say I'm shocked by that attitude, but I'm not." His father sneered; even from across the table, the man seemed to be towering over him. Daniel found a moment to resent that amid all the other resentment. Why didn't he inherit any of that height?

"Mom—" Again, he was not sure why he kept bringing her up. The word mom just kept pouring out of him.

"—STOP bringing your fucking mother into this! She died and left me with you. She's gone. Dead. What she would have done is no longer relevant, because she's not here to do it. I wish she was, because then this wouldn't be my fucking problem!"

"Fuck you! Don't talk about her like that." Daniel lunged across the table without thinking, but the fight was over before it even started. Next thing he knew, he was flung across the room into the wall.

Silence.

They both stared at each other in shock. Had that really just happened? Daniel's eyes started filling with tears, and it was taking every ounce of willpower to keep them from falling. He clawed for some anger instead, some… anything.

"If I am such a big fucking problem, then just sign the papers, and you will never have to see me again."

His father was silent for a long moment before gathering the papers scattered across the table and signing them. "Fine."

That softly spoken word knocked the air out of him much harder than the wall had. But he'd gotten what he wanted. Daniel grabbed the papers, eyes narrowed, and walked out the door.

And he never went back.—

Daniel had dropped to the ground in front of Red the moment the memory filled his vision, and returning to his senses he found himself slumped over on the dark volcanic stone. Tears running down his face, the gunner thought about the memory, really thought about it. Doing his best to take the rage and hurt he was feeling out of it and think.

Red's comforting purr helped.

Answers. What had he wanted in that memory? What had he wanted in all of the memories? Taking piloting out of it, what was his desire? In the first he'd wanted his mom to come home. Second, he wanted his dad to pay attention to him. The third… of course, he'd wanted his dad to react to his behavior. Should've realized that, no way donut cop would have been able to catch him otherwise. Fourth…

Daniel shook his head. The fourth was genuinely about piloting. He'd given up on getting all the things he'd wanted in the previous memories and latched onto the last thing that made him feel connected to…

To…

"Oh."

"Oh?" The lion may or may not have been mentally smirking.

"I… I just wanted a family." A few more tears leaked out. "I want a real family…" Then he couldn't help but roll his eyes through the tears. "I can feel you smirking, shut up."

"I see." Red did let up on the smirking. Slightly. "And are you without one?"

No question what he was getting at there, anyway. "The team isn't the same thing, the team is the team. …But not entirely, I guess." Lance was the closest thing he had that met his definition of a real family.

"Firestriker would argue you are not alone."

Snort. "Yeah, he would." Daniel bit his lip, almost afraid to ask his next question. "That's what this 'pride' thing is? A family?"

"Yes. It is… connection."

Excitement filled him at his answer, more than he'd have expected moments ago, and a smirk of his own graced his face. Connection, family… the things he'd realized he had to stop running away from, distancing himself before they could abandon him. It all came together…

Answers. Finally. Which left him with an answer, too.

"Then I guess I'm telling you yes." His smirk widened. "But first I need to get a look at this back seat I'm going to be sitting in."

"But of course, you are welcome inside." Red chuckled. "If you are answering my call, we will need Firestriker."

Daniel watched as Red's head lowered and then opened. "Awesome." He quickly ran inside and looked around the cockpit. Glancing at Lance's seat and consoles before looking at his own. Not that he'd expected anything else, but it was all… well, the word awesome was serving just fine so far, why switch? He grinned. "Guess you better call him, then."

The lion chuckled again. "It is done."

*****

Larmina had been looking for Pidge. Not because she wanted to talk to him; very much the opposite. She was heading out to her forest, and wanted to be sure she wasn't risking stumbling across a ninja she didn't want to talk to. He was down in the shuttle chamber, so she was probably safe to go… but she hadn't gotten far when she crossed paths with Lance.

He was restless. Something told him he should be near the tunnels, an instinct that prickled down his spine. It felt like he might be needed, whatever the hell that meant. He was actually very glad to see Lady Larmina approaching, because a distraction from the vague feelings would be great.

"Anenyo!" he offered with a bright grin.

She blinked, then grinned back. "Anenyo. You said it right."

"Fucking awesome, thanks—wait, no, uh. Narrow-eh-nah?"

Her grin widened. "You did not say that one right. Naroehna." He'd stressed the middle syllable way too much. "Your way wasn't rude though. Not sure if you think that's good or bad."

"Naroehna," he repeated, and this time she nodded in approval. "Which way is rude? Kind of depends on the situation whether it's good or bad, you know."

She laughed; he had a point. "Can't really mess up thank you, not any way that's fun at least. 'Aneinyo' gets you punched in bars though." Frown. "I've heard."

Of course she'd never snuck into any bars on the Seven Isles to 'keep in touch with the people'. Absolutely not.

If she hadn't been caught it clearly hadn't happened.

Lance studied her for a few moments and nodded; yeah, he could absolutely picture her in a bar. He wondered what Arusian bars were actually like. "Aneinyo, huh? Rough translation?"

"Uh." She was none too sure what it meant, now that he mentioned it. Anenyo as a greeting carried with it the implication of a blessing; aneinyo was essentially the opposite. "I think it's basically 'fuck you'."

Lance snorted. It felt like that could really get people in trouble, but to a native speaker it probably wasn't weird at all. "Well, then I'll be sure to use it that way." He arched an eyebrow and gave her a slightly conspiratorial grin. "Anything else I should know? You know, in case of a vulgar language emergency."

The Arusian scoffed. "Do I look like the person to ask that?"

He met her turquoise eyes evenly. "Yes."

"Smart offworlder." She grinned again. "How vulgar do you want?"

Lance couldn't help but actually laugh. "I am known for my brilliance. Let's go with as vulgar as fucking possible."

That was easy enough. "Einycka." …Mostly easy enough. "Not sure it translates either, maybe 'devils'? Nasty hell things, anyway. Super vulgar. That's where 'sinycka' comes from—sinar einycka, blue devils. That's the Drules."

Had she just given an impromptu etymology lesson, willingly? Yes, yes she had. She could be helpful with the right inspiration!

"Einycka," Lance repeated, trying it a couple of times until she nodded approval of his pronunciation. "Hmm. Asshole, maybe. Or bastard."

"…No, worse." Larmina made a face. She'd gathered 'asshole' wasn't really all that bad, definitely not to einycka levels. As for bastard, well… that was one Common curse she'd actually known before the offworlders arrived. A particularly passive-aggressive instructor had taught it to her.

That instructor had, not coincidentally, been booted out of the entire province by an irate Queen Orla the next day. But in any case, her personal expertise with the word told her it wasn't quite the right match here.

Nodding, Lance decided there probably wasn't a single equivalent. "So evil fucking ass, basically."

She considered that for a moment. "That sounds better."

Excellent, they were making some progress. "What's purple? Because I know some purple asses I would really love a great name for."

"Misar. So…" She tilted her head, running through the nonstandard contraction rules that hadn't mattered much since third-level grammar. "Misyckya."

"Misyckya," Lance echoed, being as careful as he could with the pronunciation. "Misyckya… I like it."

Larmina grinned again, but quickly became more serious as she studied him. She had a suspicion…

"So the Galra are purple, huh?"

He winced. But the Arusian's tone was unusually sympathetic, and he was pretty sure he could understand why. "The most hideous shade of it. Pretty fucking unfair to a perfectly good color."

Larmina could get behind that. "Blue's an okay color too. But…" She hissed angrily. "Sinycka."

Oh, he heard that. "We'll make them pay, Larmina," he said seriously. "I promise. Arus deserves real justice."

She nodded slowly; she could hear Green Lion growling agreement in her mind, and for once wasn't even upset. "Holding you to that. Not that I won't be helping." How much she could do if they were getting attacked by giant freaky spider beasts and stuff was a question, but she'd figure something out.

"Oh, I fucking know you'll be helping."

They were both quiet for a few moments, then she eyed him and cracked a sly smirk. "And while I'm helping you with this, you'll need more than just einycka. The usual ones are dovoyat and dovayat—same thing, dovayat's just a little more. Dovayat pol is a lot more, and dovayat polesta is even more." She nodded solemnly. "We like options."

"Options are great." He smirked back. "Any idea about that translation?"

"It's something against the gods, I think." …Which was a weird concept right now, now that she was thinking about it. But who really thought about the literal meanings of curses? At least until some offworlder asked about it.

"Always up to defying gods," Lance decided. It sounded way more badass than most English curses…

"Firestriker, come. Join me in my den."

"…Oh, and speaking of, I've just been summoned by a robot lion." Kind of formal there, Red.

"It is of import."

His eyes widened slightly, and Larmina cocked her head. "Sounds dangerous."

"Actually, I think it's gonna be something fucking awesome." It had better be… he spun towards the tunnels, but took a moment to flail for goodbye in Arusian first. "Sanstalye!"

"Sanstalye!" Larmina called after him. That one, he'd gotten right the first time… which was just as well, because he was already well out of sight.

*****

Daniel was sitting in his seat, analyzing his console. He didn't seem to have many real controls, just a few buttons on the arms of the chair. But he could see some hatches on the console that looked like they might unlock; maybe more controls would pop out when the lion was actually turned on. Or activated… whatever. The seat was comfier than the paw, which was a good thing at least.

Red was amused by Daniel's amusing himself as they waited. His rear console had been locked down for… oh, a few centuries.

Lance charged into the cockpit at full speed; maybe Red hadn't specified what he was coming for, but his suspicions had only intensified. "Alright, why am I… KID!" Seeing what seemed like confirmation brought a huge grin to his face.

Smirk. "Old man." He hadn't used that one in awhile; it seemed appropriate.

"Is this it?" Lance was doing his best to not get his hopes up, but fuck that, they were already up. It had to be it.

"Perhaps it is. That depends on the cub."

Daniel's smirk turned into an outright smile. It was hard to not get excited when he could practically feel how excited Lance was. "Yeah, me and Red figured it out."

"Yeah?" Lance attempted to play it cool for maybe half a second. "That's… FUCKING AWESOME!"

Awesome really was the word. "Okay Red, what do I do?"

"You may stay where you are if you wish. And I must ask, for certainty. Do you wish to become one of my bonded, and to join with the Pride?"

Was that it? He took a breath, gripping the arms of the seat.

"Yes."

—Fire engulfed him, it was like Red's warmth but more intense than he'd ever felt it, and he should have been scared, it felt as if he were being submerged in the magma river, there were embers shooting up through his veins and then just as suddenly it was gone—

The feeling of flame washed over Lance too, and he'd never been so happy to feel like he was on fire. YESSS. He was practically jumping up and down… well, in his head anyway, the ceiling of the cockpit was a little low for that. "About fucking time!"

Red's purring was loud. "Then you are mine. The Sentinel of Flame, Paladin of Pursuit, Flamechaser."

"Flamechaser, huh?" Daniel looked at his reflection in the main console, and saw his eyes flare red for a moment.

Lance's grin was practically splitting his whole face open. "Pretty awesome, right?"

Fuck yes. Daniel smirked, and the lion's warmth felt better than ever.

"I can work with that."

*****

It had happened again.

Deep in the heart of her laboratory, Haggar was listening to a report from an acolyte, but her mind was plagued with a hint of distraction. As soon as the acolyte was dismissed, she moved into the mortuary wing, pausing in the entryway. Yes, there it was. The unfamiliar energy had returned again, but only for another few moments.

"Curious…"

It was no false trace, that much was certain. She moved along the aisle, feeling for the origin, and found herself at the three Earthling caskets once more. She didn't think it was the same body as last time, either… even more curious.

Perhaps this merited more vigilance.

She snapped her fingers, and another of her acolytes appeared in a flash of violet. "I want these three moved to one of the monitoring stations. If anything out of the ordinary comes up, I am to be informed immediately."

The acolyte bowed. "As you command, my lady." They moved off to find a cart to move the three caskets; sometimes mundane solutions were more efficient than magic.

Haggar's glowing gold eyes narrowed. "There is something different about you three, then. Perhaps about all of you. And that's how your friends were able to slip our grasp, isn't it?" Turning away from the three caskets, she considered the implications.

The common-minded Drule of the Ninth Kingdom was instilled from birth with certain values. A respect for authority, a craving for order, and a strict code of personal honor. And they had found with the correct mix of danger, reward, and respect, many prisoners could see the superiority of their ways. Gladiators buying into the system was simply the natural way of the universe.

It had served the Ninth Kingdom well for countless centuries. But the common-minded Drule was poor at dealing with the unexpected—and none more so than the slave guards, those chosen specifically for their unquestioning obedience to the routine. It wouldn't do to have them sympathize with their captives, after all.

Which meant sometimes they missed things. Like the fact that a band of Earthlings was fighting for something other than fame in the arena… and that those same Earthlings had cared more for their lost than for any glory.

It was something she could use.

"Go to the vivarium," she ordered one of the other acolytes. "I require a Kanvian thresher, a quillrunner, and two of the grimbite scorpions. Bring them to me in the foundry." The acolyte bowed and swept away to fulfill the command, but Haggar remained for a few moments more.

She didn't tend to duplicate occult beasts. Each that survived was a work of art, a unique masterpiece. Each that fell had clearly been flawed, and chasing down those fatal flaws tended to introduce others. But every rule was made to be broken, when factors aligned just so…

And so, there would be a second Demonspine.