They'd sent him here looking for something. Something out of legend, something that if found, could turn the tide of the war.
Something that desperately needed to be kept out of Zarkon's hands.
Beyond that? He basically had no idea what it was that he was looking for. Or even where it was, other than which of the planet's massive land masses it was likely located on. That still left him with a lot of territory to cover, and little time to actually cover it. As it stood, they were lucky enough as it was to catch wind of the blue lion's location before Zarkon did, but even then, it was only a matter of time before the Galra Empire figured it out.
There was no doubt they were looking.
Still, if he was being honest, this all sounded like some kind of bad joke. It was hard to believe that the key to defeating the reign of a ten thousand year old tyrant was located on some planet that was so backwater, they hadn't even managed to leave their own solar system yet. If he didn't know any better, he'd say this wasn't a mission at all, but rather some kind of exile.
(Was it? He wasn't sure. He didn't exactly have the best track record of following orders, but that was no reason to exile him.)
No. Whatever this was, it probably wasn't exile. Sure, he might not be one hundred percent sure that the legends surrounding Voltron were actually true or not, but Kolivan seemed to believe them at least. In that respect, getting this mission should have been an honor, but realistically he knew that the only reason he'd been chosen over other Blades was because of his height. Among the Galra, he was short enough to still be mistaken for a youngling, but amongst the people of this planet- the humans- he looked just like any other adolescent his age...
... with the help from a device he'd had implanted in the base of his spine, that was. The human form was massively inconvenient, lacking claws and fangs, with short, rounded ears that didn't hear half as well as those of his real form. He still hadn't gotten used to his dulled senses, and even then, his were still far superior to those of a real human. The worst part of it all was that he was stuck with this form until he completed his mission- which meant that until he found the blue lion, there would be no returning to normal.
Said mission had already stretched on longer than he'd anticipated. He was starting to regret not arguing with Kolivan more- not that he was supposed to argue with his leader, but there was that whole not really good at following rules thing again.
In his defense, he'd gotten it from his mother.
Still, the more he learned about these humans, the more grateful he was for this form, inconvenient though it was. It certainly made him stand out a lot less, and enabled him to act far more openly than he could otherwise. Not only had the people of this planet not managed to leave their system yet, they didn't even know that life beyond it existed. For most, it was a rumor, and for others, the concept of extraterrestrial life was laughable- which from his point of view, was beyond egotistical. Did they really think that they were alone in the universe? Did they not understand how vast it was?
Probably not, given how pitiful their technology was.
He'd thought that given their reputation as Earth's premier space exploration program, the Galaxy Garrison would have been the best place to start when it came to searching for the blue lion, but he'd quickly learned otherwise. At this rate, he was starting to wonder if it was even worth the trouble he had gone though to enroll as a cadet there- even if it did give him a roof over his head, not to mention free food. The ration bars the Garrison produced were optimized to meet the needs of his human form, more than satisfying any of his hunger cravings.
(Not that it had actually been that hard to get in. Shouldn't a place like this have like, actual background checks? Obviously not, if they'd accepted a student who basically hadn't even existed the day before.)
Plus, it got him access to the simulators, which was the closest thing to piloting he could get on this rock heap- though unsurprisingly, it wasn't nearly enough. To make matters worse, none of the pilots here had any real talent- should Zarkon ever actually show up, he had no doubt that Earth would be conquered in the blink of an eye.
Actually... he'd take that back. There was one good pilot among the bunch.
Takashi Shirogane.
Takashi Shirogane, his assigned mentor.
Takashi Shirogane, his assigned mentor, who wouldn't leave him alone. Be it dragging him to the commissary to eat something other than ration bars (what was wrong with ration bars?), or asking him more questions that he cared to answer, it was quite clear that the older man had no intention of leaving him in peace. And while he had a begrudging respect for his skills as a pilot, the last thing he wanted to do was try and make friends with any of the local populace.
He was here on a mission. He didn't have the time to get personally involved.
The worst part about this one, however, was that it was really hard not to like him. Other humans made it easy- like the loud guy who wouldn't shut up about being his rival, or that annoying guy with the flippy hair whose arm he'd accidentally broken during a mandatory combat lesson, but not this one. He had a way about him that he couldn't quite describe- something that drew people in, almost like a black hole- if not considerably less deadly. He had no intention of warming up to him, but it was almost like he didn't have a choice in he matter.
When he started calling him Shiro, he was forced to admit defeat. Fine- fine! So he was interested in this one human in particular, big deal. It was fine. It wasn't so bad that he'd let it distract him from his mission. Maybe it could actually serve to make his time on this dump a little more bearable.
Not that he had much to show for it, even though he'd been here long enough to get used to seeing pale skin, purple eyes, and black hair reflected back at him in the mirror. Even though he'd gotten used to be being addressed as Keith, no longer failing to respond to the name he'd picked as a more human alias. It wasn't through any lack of effort on his part either- he was starting to think that whatever this Voltron was, it just simply wasn't here.
But probably wasn't good enough for Kolivan. If he was going to get off this rock, then he needed to be one hundred percent sure it wasn't here.
By the time a deca-phoeb- give or take, depending on the differences between cycles- had passed, Keith thought he was going to go mad.
To make matters worse, Shiro was leaving. The one human he had learned to get along with, and he was leaving, flying off into the far reaches of space- or at least, what humans considered to be the far reaches of space. Beyond this system, even the clunkiest of ships could make the journey in at least a few quintants, if not much, much faster. For the humans, however, the journey would take several of their months- and that was only just getting there.
He half wanted to tell Shiro not to go.
Not just because he would miss him. No. He was a Blade. He was more than used to people leaving for deca-phoebs on missions, often without contact. Ulaz, Thace... even his mom had left. Compared to their deep cover missions, a few phoebs would pass by in the blink of an eye. He didn't even miss his mom that much, and he hadn't been able to contact her in deca-phoebs. There was no way that he was going to miss someone who would only be gone for half that time, especially not when he'd only met him a little over a deca-phoeb ago.
No, what he was more worried about was the Galra Empire.
As of yet, he hadn't received any word from Kolivan that they were in the area- he surely would have been notified if that was the case. But though they had showed no apparent interest in Earth as of yet, that was something that could change at any time.
It would be fine, he'd reasoned at the time. Space was vast, and the Kerberos mission was a small one, made up of no more than three members. It wasn't like any of the other planets in this system hosted sentient life, so they might actually be safer there than here, should the Empire decide to show it's face. They'd probably look right past an uninhabitable moon.
He'd been wrong.
It wasn't fine.
The days after the announcement of the 'Kerberos disaster' were still kind of a blur. He vaguely remembered yelling at Kolivan, damaging Garrison property, swearing to kill Zarkon himself given half the chance and punching one of the Garrison's commanding officers, not necessarily in that order. It was the latter that got him tossed out of the Garrison, sending him back to the tiny shack that he had staked out when he'd first arrived here.
None of it changed the fact that Shiro was gone.
The news said it was due to a crash- but he knew that was bullshit, right from the start. They'd tried to pass it off as pilot error, like Shiro wasn't the best pilot this entire dump heap had to offer. Then he'd heard from Kolivan that one of the Empire's cruisers had been spotted on the edge of the system, and he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that there had been no crash.
Shiro, along with the rest of the Kerberos mission crew, had been taken.
By the Empire.
And Kolivan was not helping.
He'd kind of expected it. It was clear that he disapproved of the apparent attachment he'd developed towards the human- an attachment that Keith didn't even realize ran as deep as it did until he was already gone. He thought it was distracting him from his mission- which fine, maybe it was- and that it wasn't worth the risk to save a single human prisoner.
(Three prisoners, he reminded himself, and would feel guilty for leaving out the other two crew members much later.)
He understood. He understood- but that didn't mean he didn't hate it. But there was also nothing he could do. The fact that there was an imperial cruiser at the edge of the system could only mean that his window of opportunity was swiftly closing. He couldn't afford to be distracted right now.
Even if it hurt.
As a member of the Blade of Marmora, he should be used to people disappearing. It happened all the time- there was a reason their creed was knowledge or death. But this was different- this wasn't a fellow Blade member, someone who knew exactly what they were getting into, but someone who had nothing to do with the conflict at all- someone whose only crime was being in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
It wasn't right.
It was enough to make him want to punch someone- which, yeah, he kind of did. Broke their jaw too. His senses might have been downgraded upon taking this form, but if there was one thing that hadn't changed too much, it was his physical strength. He didn't regret it one bit... even if it had resulted in being expelled from the Garrison.
Whoops.
Then again, maybe his expulsion was the best thing to happen yet- at least in terms of the mission. With nowhere else to go, he found himself back at the rundown shack that had served as his home base during his first few days on Earth. It was very much like he had left it, sitting abandoned in the middle of the desert. He wasn't sure who it belonged to, but he didn't think they'd been back for a long time.
It was there, in the desert, that he first picked up on the energy.
He didn't know what it was at first. It might have been his imagination, the heat of the desert getting to him- until he sensed it again, and then another time. Whatever it was, it was very real- and it might even be exactly what he was looking for. Kolivan had given him a slightly odd look when he'd reported as much back to him, but at the time, he hadn't thought much of it. He was always giving him those kind of looks. So he searched the desert, trying to find the source of the strange energy. It wasn't like there was much else he could do, and it kept him from dwelling too much on Shiro's disappearance. It kept Kolivan happy too- or at least, as happy as he got.
When he found the first cave, he knew he was on the right track.
He wondered why it had taken so long for him to pick up on it- especially as the energy that got harder to ignore by the quintant. It was the strongest in the caves, but they were so labyrinthe that it might take him months to pin down the lion's exact location.
All the while, the Galra Empire drew closer.
The humans didn't even notice.
They were drawing closer- and the writing on the wall was all spelling out the when. There was something there, on the cave walls, something about some kind of event, some kind of arrival, though of what kind, they didn't specify- and at first, he thought all the clues were pointing towards the Galra.
At least, until he received contact from a another Blade.
Kolivan would have never approved the transmission. But if there was something that he had in common with Ulaz, it was the fact that they both had always followed their own instincts- even if that sometimes meant doing things that their leader wouldn't approve of.
Ulaz's instinct had been to send Shiro home.
But if he wanted to get him, he was going to have to act fast. He didn't know where his pod was going to land, or crash, to be more exact- other than that it was going to fall somewhere on Garrison property. He couldn't- he wouldn't- let Shiro fall back into their hands, not when they didn't understand anything about what it was they were dealing with. He knew how much the druids liked to experiment with prisoners- and who knew what they had done to Shiro? Ulaz's message had been sent off in such a hurry, that he didn't have time to tell him anything further. He was making himself scarce, having blown his cover to do this. Likely he wouldn't be able to get anything further from him for some time.
If he got the chance, he'd thank him. But right now, he had a mission.
Distracting the humans had been easy- and dispatching the ones in makeshift decontamination area had been even easier. He'd thought about wearing his Marmora armor at first- but he didn't want to risk being seen in it, giving the humans even more questions that he frankly had no time to answer.
Besides, if Shiro had been held captive by the Galra Empire for the past deca-phoeb, the last thing he needed to know was that he was one too.
And it was him.
It was Shiro.
Scarred, with a shock of white hair and a cyborg prosthetic that he knew at once was Galra tech- but it was unmistakably Shiro.
Now he just had to get him out of here, and then everything would be-
"Oh no, no, no, no, no."
What.
"I'll be the one saving Shiro."
What.
A shack.
He'd never admit it out loud, but ever since Keith Kogane's disastrous exit from the Galaxy Garrison, Lance had wondered what, exactly, had happened to his old rival. The fact that no one had seen or heard anything about him since his expulsion only added fuel to the fire, leading him to imaging countless scenarios- except apparently for this one.
All this time, he'd been living in a shack- and not just any shack, oh no. He'd been living in one located in the middle of the desert like some kind of crazy desert hermit. It was even complete with a corkboard that had been hastily covered by an old sheet upon entry. Somehow in spite of the fact that they'd just rescued a dead man from the site an alien spaceship crash, this was still the craziest thing today had thrown at him.
He'd never taken Keith for the crazy desert dwelling conspiracy theorist type, but in hindsight, it almost made sense. And to be fair, he'd always thought that Keith was kind of on the crazy side. I mean, what else did you call a kid who just carried around a knife on the regular? Someone who actually seemed to like the Garrison provided ration bars?
Not to mention someone who didn't understand any of his totally awesome jokes. If he didn't know any better, it was like the guy had crawled out from underneath a rock or something.
"Just so I'm getting this straight," Keith's voice cut through his thoughts, and he dimly realized that either Hunk or Pidge must have been filling him in on just how they'd gotten to the crash site, "-you saw something crash, decided to investigate it, and then decided you were going to butt in on my rescue mission?"
"Well butt in isn't the word I would choose but," Hunk paused, reconsidering his words, "-okay, yeah, I guess we did kind of butt in?"
"Yes." Keith's tone was as dry as the desert air- making it all too clear that he very expressly did not want them to be here. Figured. He'd always been the solitary type, so in hindsight, maybe the whole desert shack thing shouldn't come as that much of a surprise to him.
"Well it's not like we can just leave," Pidge said, "-not when the Garrison probably has our faces on video. Or Lance's, at least, since he's the only one who actually went into the tent."
Oh. Oh crap, they were right. That uh... that definitely wasn't good.
"Yeah, I mean, they kinda seemed like they were going to try and make him disappear, so..."
The him that Hunk was referring to was none other than Takashi Shirogane- the hero, the legend, the pilot that Lance had looked up to for like... ever. The one who was currently unconscious on a dusty couch that Lance was pretty sure Keith had never bothered cleaning, only the steady rising and falling of his chest indicating that he was even alive.
Takashi Shirogane, who had fallen to earth in what he was pretty sure was a crashed alien spaceship.
Takashi Shirogane, who had ranted about aliens who destroyed worlds until the Garrison had put him under.
Takashi Shirogane, who was currently sporting a frankly pretty sick cybernetic arm that he was damn sure he didn't have before he went missing.
(Said sick cybernetic arm also intimidated Lance more than a little, but he wasn't about to admit that out loud.)
"Besides," Lance began, "-we can't just let you take all the credit for rescuing Shiro, now can we?"
"The only thing you did was weigh me down." Keith replied dryly. "The three of you should leave. If you're that worried about the Garrison finding you, you can head into town and take a bus out of here. They probably won't be checking them until they've finished clearing the crash site of all debris."
Figures the crazy desert hermit kid would have an escape plan, Lance thought dimly.
"I'm not going anywhere." Pidge said, steely determination in their voice. "Not until I get a chance to ask Shiro about the other two members of his crew."
That... actually seemed to make Keith withdraw a bit, Lance couldn't help but notice. Enough for him to let out an exasperated sigh, and drop his hands from where they were folded in front of his chest.
"Fine. You can stay here one night, and then question Shiro about them when he's awake." Keith said, his voice tight. "But don't push it."
"Deal." Pidge said, seemingly satisfied with that.
"He is going to wake up, right?" Hunk asked, hesitation clear in his voice. "I mean, he kind of slept through that whole chase... you know, the one where we kind of went off a cliff and all, so what if he doesn't-"
Keith cut him off. "He'll wake up."
"Oh. Well, I mean, if you're sure..." Hunk trailed off, as if suddenly realizing that he didn't know what else to say.
It dawned on Lance that this was probably the longest conversation they'd ever had with Keith, and by and large, it was about aliens.
Oh god, he'd just remembered the aliens.
"So did you- did you hear what he was going on about, back there in the tent?" Hunk asked, practically reading his mind. "About the aliens and stuff?"
"No." Keith narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing. "How do you know what he was talking about?"
"Pidge here hacked into their camera feed." Lance supplied, gesturing to the shrimp in question.
"I can show you, if you want." Pidge offered, already in the process of removing their laptop from their bag. "I've still got the data recorded on my computer. It sounded like he was talking about a possible invasion."
And somehow crazy desert hermit kid didn't seem at all surprised by that. Now why didn't that surprise him?
"Show me." Keith said, already bending down to get a better look as Pidge set their laptop up on a table that Lance was just now noticing was actually just a plank of wood set atop some cement blocks.
Ugh. Clearly, he was going to have to have a talk to Keith about his decorating skills. How could he even live like this?
"I gotta warn you though, it's some serious stuff." Hunk said, his gaze straying back towards Shiro. "Like serious bad stuff."
Without even looking up, Keith gave him a simple reply, one that none of them found the need to question- "I can handle it."
"Aliens are coming here for a weapon."
"We have to find Voltron."
It was all he could do to school his reaction so that he didn't give too much away. He'd since come to learn that the average human was sensitive to even the most minute change of expression, and the last thing he wanted to do was let on that he knew more than he should. Picking up three Garrison cadets on his way to rescue Shiro hadn't been in the cards, and as much as he'd agreed to let them spend the night, he'd still much rather be rid of them. The only reason he hadn't just tossed them out right then and there was the strange determination in the smallest one's voice- whatever it was that they wanted to know about the other members of the Kerberos mission, it seemed to be deeply personal. They probably had their own reasons, and throwing them out without answers when he'd ignored his own orders to rescue Shiro would have just been plain hypocritical.
It didn't mean they'd be sticking around for long, though. As far as he was concerned, they'd be leaving first thing in the morning, hopefully sooner.
But until then...
"It's that word again," the one called Pidge said, "-Voltron."
Tearing his eyes away from the computer screen, he peered at Pidge suspiciously. "You've heard of it before?"
"He sure has!" Lance piped in- because of course he did. From what little Keith recalled of him, he wasn't the type to keep his mouth shut for long. "Go on and tell them about the alien radio chatter, Pidge."
"You mean the alien radio chatter you made fun of me for?" Pidge dryly asked.
Oh, he might actually kind of like this one.
"Yeah, exactly. That." Lance said, all but brushing off their retort.
Heaving a frustrated sigh, Pidge closed out of the video and brought up a different program, one used for playing audio recordings. Keith recognized the frequency- it was the standard one that imperial cruisers used. So when the message that played was in Galran, it didn't come as much of a surprise.
What did surprise him was the fact that a cadet at the Garrison had managed to intercept one of their transmissions in the first place. He hadn't been able to gather any evidence of the Garrison doing the same, so either their tech had improved in the short time he'd been away, or this Pidge was just really smart.
He was banking on it being the latter.
Scooting over so that he could get closer, Pidge glanced up at him. "I can't understand any of it, but there is one word that they keep repeating."
"Voltron." Keith supplied, the furrow of his brow deepening. A closer look at their tech revealed that it definitely looked homemade, as far from standard Garrison issue as you could get, even if he recognized some of the basic parts as being from there. "Where did you get all this?"
"Built it." Pidge said, puffing out their chest with pride.
He couldn't say it wasn't deserved. He didn't recognized him from his time at the Garrison, so either he was new, or their paths had just never crossed. He did, however, recognize the other two- even if he hadn't actually remembered their names until they'd introduced themselves. One was that annoying cargo pilot who'd decided they were rivals, and the other was his friend, the engineer with motion sickness.
"Mind if I listen in on this?" Keith asked. He didn't doubt that Kolivan had gotten wind of these transmissions already, but it would be his first time hearing them- and if they involved Shiro- and Voltron- in any way, then he wanted to know.
Plus it wouldn't hurt to make sure that none of the intercepted transmissions had been his. Given the situation, he would rather avoid being outed as an alien spy. He was pretty sure that wouldn't go over well, and he'd rather avoid having to beat up more humans than entirely necessary. Plus he wasn't sure Shiro would approve.
Of beating people up, not being an alien spy- though he probably wouldn't approve of that either, he guessed.
"Sure, though I doubt you'll understand anything." Pidge said, scooting completely out of the way so that he could sit down in front of his laptop. "It's all a bunch of alien gibberish. I've been trying to translate it, but languages aren't exactly my forte."
Biting back a remark that what they were speaking right now sounded a lot more like alien gibberish to him, Keith began to play back the recorded messages, starting from the most recently intercepted ones. To his relief, none of them appeared to be his contacts with Kolivan, but rather all came from one ship- likely the one that was paroling the edge of the system. He didn't recognize the voice of the commanding officer, but the Galra Empire was massive enough that it didn't really surprise him.
"It's been going crazy tonight." Pidge helpfully supplied, before glancing over towards Shiro and adding, "-I can kinda guess why now."
They must have said something else after that, but frankly, Keith didn't hear them. His focus was on the transmissions. Voltron came up more than a few times- but so did Ulaz's name, and one word that he recognized to mean 'champion'. The Champion escaped, one transmission had said. The Champion stole an escape pod. It was with a tightening knot of dread in his stomach that Keith realized that Champion was being used to refer to Shiro- and dimly, he recalled just how much the Empire loved their gladiator matches.
Putting two and two together wasn't hard.
It was bad enough that they had taken his arm, but knowing that he'd probably lost it in a gladiator match... it was enough to make his stomach churn in disgust. When it became too much to handle, he pulled back from the computer, taking in and letting out a long, deep breath.
This was bad.
Jolting to his feet, he ignored the startled reaction that earned from the humans, too busy racking his brain to figure out what to do next. How long would it take them to track Shiro here? Did they already know where Voltron was? No, from the sound of it they had no idea where to start looking. That gave him time, but not much.
And to top it off, there was no way he'd be able to contact Kolivan with these three around.
He had to find Voltron. And fast.
And after that... what would he do after that? Obviously he couldn't leave it here. There was no way that he'd be able to get it off planet himself- at least, not if the legends were actually true, and they really did choose their own pilots. Considering what had happened the last time they'd chosen a Galra as a paladin, he seriously doubted they'd be in a hurry to do it again. Which meant he had to try and arrange a rendezvous with Kolivan and the Blade, but that raised yet another question.
What about Shiro?
He couldn't just leave him. If the Empire was coming, then Earth wasn't safe anymore. He couldn't take him back to the Marmora base- there was no way that Kolivan would allow it, and there were some lines even Keith wasn't about to cross.
"Hey, yo, earth to crazy desert hermit dude."
Right. Of course. He also had the three freeloaders to deal with.
Letting out a disgruntled sigh, Keith pivoted on his heel, glaring at Lance. "Not a crazy desert hermit."
"Sure you're not." Lance said- and he was pretty sure that was sarcasm. "But listen, hate to interrupt your pacing here, but do you got anything to eat around here?"
"There's ration-"
"Nope," Lance cut him off, "-no ration bars. No way."
Keith frowned. "Is there something wrong with ration bars?"
"Uh, how about everything?" Lance asked, having the audacity to sound incredulous. "But seriously, you got any thing to eat?"
Groaning, Keith briefly reconsidered the whole no witnesses thing.
Sometime in the early morning hours, Keith found an excuse to peel away from the group. Most of the humans were still asleep save for Hunk, who blearily lifted a hand at him, before he returned to his watch. Though he'd said it wasn't necessary, they'd been watching Shiro in rotation, none of them having any illusions about how rude his awakening would be. They'd set aside some food for him once he did wake- real food, by the insistence of Hunk, and not simply ration bars. For once, Keith didn't argue- after everything he'd been through, the least Shiro deserved was a good meal.
There was clothing set aside as well, figuring that he wouldn't want to keep wearing prison rags. He was just glad that whoever lived in the shack before him had a similar build to Shiro.
Putting some distance between himself and the shack, Keith perched on a boulder, taking in a moment to simply stare off into the horizon. The blue lion was out there somewhere- and from the sound of it, he didn't have much time left to find it.
But he was close. He had to be. Just like the carvings had said, something had arrived last night, even if it wasn't what he'd expected it to be- and that had to mean something. Maybe it was some kind of sign- maybe Shiro had something to do with Voltron.
(If they really did choose their own pilots, then there was no one on this rock more deserving than Shiro.)
Either way, he'd better contact Kolivan while he had the chance. Producing a small transmitter from one of his belt pouches, he switched it on. He was careful to pick a frequency that Pidge's interceptor program wouldn't pick up on, and put through a transmission to the Blade. The Blade leader himself responded promptly, and he just took that as another sign that the situation was truly that urgent.
"There's trouble." His words were spoken in Galran, making sure to check over his shoulder before a single word of it left his lips. He was far away from the shack, and halved though his hearing might be, he was confident he'd hear anyone coming, but prudence was best. Couldn't afford to be overheard.
Kolivan did not look surprised. But to be honest, Keith couldn't ever recall a time in which he had.
"We have heard." Kolivan's tone was stern- so no change from the usual, then. "Ulaz has defied orders and has been forced to disappear as a result. Though it is to my understanding that you are already aware of this."
Fighting the urge to wince, Keith instead gave him a sharp nod. No point in hiding it. "He contacted me, briefly."
Kolivan did not need to guess as to what, and so he simply did not. "There is a Galran cruiser with the objective of claiming the blue lion en route to your current location. You have a few Earth hours, at best."
"I know." Keith said, his eyes narrowing. "I'll find it, don't worry."
"I trust that you will." Kolivan observed. "We cannot afford to allow Zarkon to get his hands on it. It is to our understanding that he has one in his possession already."
That took Keith by surprise, though he schooled himself not to show it. It was the first he'd heard of such a thing. "Can we get it back?"
"As of now, no." Kolivan said simply. "The intel only just came in, so we do not have enough information, and the mission is too much of a risk to take on the back of a mere rumor. Your task, youngling," oh how he wished he wouldn't call him that, he was too old to be a youngling still, "...is to concentrate on locating the beast that dwells on that planet."
"And I intend to finish it." Keith said, his tone short.
"See that you do."
With that, the transmission cut out. Shoulders slumping, Keith cast his eyes up towards the sky, watching as the sun began to crawl over the horizon. No big deal, he just had to find something in the short span of a few vargas that he'd spent the past two deca-phoebs or so looking for.
That, and lose the Earthlings. Aside from Shiro, that was. Shiro could stay, but the other three? That was something he really didn't need underfoot right now.
Letting out a low groan, the best imitation of frustrated vocalization that he could manage with his current vocal chords, Keith thrust himself up onto his feet. Tucking away the transmitter, he turned on his heel, facing back towards where he could just make out the shack in the distance.
When he entered, he found that Hunk was no longer the only one awake. So were Pidge, Lance- no, not Lance, Lance was still asleep- and-
"Shiro?"
"Uh, yeah, he kind of woke up just after you left." Hunk hurriedly supplied, apparently picking up on the anxiety in his voice. Was he being that obvious? "He's fine though, he's fine. Just went to get changed and you know... get a bit of that fresh Earth air."
Letting out a faint breath of relief, Keith still kicked himself for not actually being here when Shiro woke up. Giving Hunk a nod, Keith made his way out towards the front, and for a moment, it was all he could do to hover there, his breath catching in his throat.
Shiro, looking at his arm- the fake, mechanical, Galra arm. Keith could only be grateful that his back was turned, so that he didn't have to see what kind of expression he wore.
When he touched his shoulder, he didn't flinch. He wondered if that would change, if he knew.
"It's good to have you back."
Whatever expression he might have worn looking at his arm, the one he gave him was enough to wash some of Keith's worst fears away.
But not all.
"It's good to be back."
He'd wanted to chase the other Earthlings away, not parade around in the desert with him. Which was, incidentally, exactly where he found himself, barely even a varga later. He was starting to think these three were stuck to him like... like gluten.
...no wait, wrong word. Glue, it was glue. Stuck to him like glue.
But as much as he hated to admit it, they were making progress. He never thought of making a scanner to pick up on the energy source itself- he'd always just followed it, purely on his gut.
Maybe these Earthlings weren't so bad after all- or well, Hunk and Pidge, at least. Lance? Yeah, he could still probably do without Lance.
"These are the lion carvings I was telling you about." Keith noted, as they entered into one of the caves that he had explored many times previously. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Lance breaking off from the group, moving to brush some dirt from the wall of the cave.
At which point, the carvings suddenly began to light up, a bright blue glow filling the cavern.
That... that had never happened before.
Neither had the cave floor giving way beneath him, sending him and everyone else into a free fall, down some kind of underground waterfall. Great- so either he was going to fall to his death because of Lance, or, given the way the carvings had lit up just previously, was going to have to owe the success of his entire mission here to him.
And frankly? Keith couldn't decide which option was worse.