CHAPTER TWELVE:



The Aerie, Altea, a day later



     “BUT AREN'T YOU concerned Haggar and Lotor will return?”

     Green-tinted morning sunlight shimmered against the polished black mountains, filtered through the great, sweeping windows of the Aerie, warming the room and turning the faces of the assembled companions an interesting shade midway between gold and green. Keith was leaning forward in his chair, watching Raibal’s face intently, awaiting his answer and clearly somewhat unnerved by the other man’s imperturbability. Hunk and Allura sat on either side of him, with Pidge perched on the arm of his chair. Sven was seated somewhat to the side. He was listening to the interchange between Keith and Raibal, but his eyes kept straying to Romelle, who sat beside him, pale but smiling, except at mention of Lotor’s name when she unconsciously clenched her fist. Lance leaned against the wall, his head back, looking a little too pleased with the effect of his arm swathed in its black silk sling. Ekatia sat by her uncle, her hands in her lap. She cleaned up rather pretty, her long dark hair trailing down her back, her slim form encased in a skirt and blouse of vibrant scarlet and teal, colors decidedly at odds with the efficient austerity of Altean architecture and inhabitants. Her usually expressive face seemed closed off this morning, however.

     “Not really,” Raibal said at length. “There is, after all,” he went on with a weary sigh, “little here that would interest them anymore.”

     Lance raised his eyebrows, drawled in a familiar tone that automatically set Keith’s warning gears whirring: “You take it awfully well.”

     “Sir,” Allura said in her most reasoning tone, “You don’t know what Lotor and Haggar are like. It doesn’t matter to them that there’s nothing to be gained from bothering your people. They suffered defeat here and for that they’ll never forgive. We know all too well.”

     “Lotor might not,” Sven spoke up for the first time and all eyes focused on him, “but Haggar is different. She seeks to intimidate with her talk of vengeance and witchcraft, but she is a coward in her heart and would not risk herself for nothing.”

     “But she’d have no trouble risking other people,” Romelle reminded them. “She could easily send Lotor. He’d be all too happy.”

     “I’m sure HE would,” said Sven, “but I doubt she’d do it. Her powers HAVE weakened. We’ve seen how she relies on Lotor and his thugs to do her dirty work. Still, she’s holding his strings, whatever he thinks, and from what I saw, she wasn’t too pleased with him for destroying the Lab.”

     “Even so,” Keith began, thick black brows knitting together in consternation. “I hate the thought of leaving you here unprotected. If you ever needed assistance, Voltron is ready to…”

     But Raibal was already shaking his head. “No, Commander Hawkins, that cannot be. Our best protection is our anonymity. The fewer people ferrying back and forth between here and elsewhere, the better. And again, we are not without defenses.”

     Ekatia scowled, looked sharply at her uncle, but said nothing, and her sudden furious glance was lost on all but Lance.

     Hunk’s clenched fist ground the arm of his chair. “I still don’t like it. Arus is well defended, but that’s never stopped Haggar from sending her ro-beasts. Even after you repair your Storm Generator, I’m sure, wherever she is, she could cook up some nasty that could get through that.”

     “The storms are not our only protection,” Raibal said mysteriously. “And they are not our strongest, not by far.”

     Hunk slammed his fist against his armrest. “This is too weird!”

     “I’ll say,” said Pidge. “What I’m not getting is, if this place is so secret, how did SVEN know about it? And while you’re at it, explain how ERIK knew. And the old shaman…Runan.”

     “Yeah,” Lance remarked, “that’s the one thing I don’t get about this whole thing.”

     Raibal raised his eyebrows, smiled, his gaze sliding to Sven’s thoughtful countenance. “I know the story, but I think it is not for me to explain it. Do you think now you are ready to enlighten us…Sven Leif Shirogane Wesson Bjørnsen?”

     Sven looked to Raibal, who nodded approvingly, then turned to favor his friends with a slow, almost shy smile. “Well…” He looked to Romelle then back at the others, who crowded closer. “When I was in Haggar’s prison cell, I had a vision of King Alfor. I also saw a configuration of stars, which he said, would guide me to Planet Altea. At first I thought he had put that image in my mind. Later I realized that wasn’t true at all. I knew them because I had seen them before, a long time ago. It wasn’t until I saw Erik again and he mentioned Hoshi-san that I truly remembered. That was how I knew he really was my brother; up until then I still had doubts. You see, I was born here, as were Erik and our eldest sister, Mariana. Hoshi-san is my grandmother. I always thought she lived most of her life in Japan, until she met my grandfather, but apparently, I was wrong!”

     “Not entirely, Sven,” Raibal broke in. “Yukiko Shirogane-Hoshi, as many called her-did indeed grow up on Terra. But she came here…a long time ago. There are things about your grandmother you do not yet know. You do know she is a practitioner of magic?”

     “I know she has…powers,” Sven said, frowning. “She seems more AWARE of things than other people and there are times when she just knows things she couldn’t possibly know.”

     “Yukiko is a very powerful practitioner of magic. You might call her a witch, or a sorceress,” Raibal said, smiling slightly at Sven’s discomfort and the others’ wonder, “And she is much older than she seems. When Crown Prince Alfor of Arus came to Altea seeking the secret of Voltron to defend his people, Yukiko was one of the engineers of that project. And…of the project for the second Voltron, Gotora, as she called it.”

     “A dream that will never be realized,” Allura said sadly.

      “You did what was right,” Raibal told her gently. “It is better that it not exist at all than fall into the wrong hands.” He looked around the room at the others. “Some twenty years ago Hoshi-san had a dream, a vision in which the forces of Doom discovered the location of Planet Altea and sought to steal its secret for themselves. She also knew that two of her grandsons would play important roles in redeeming Altea. But, strangely, she only saw one. Only you.”

     “Because Erik looked like me.”

     “Exactly. She also knew that you would journey to Altea-both of you-from very far away and that you would be redeemed when the planet was.”

     “So she left Altea,” Sven mused, “taking us and our parents with her, after making sure I-and I guess Erik, too-could find our way back.” He sighed. “And that was how she knew I hadn’t died at Ebb, and why she sent Erik to find me.” He laughed suddenly. “Wily, manipulating woman! I think it’s time we talked…”

     “I think she’d like that,” Raibal said with a friendly smile. “But there is more.”

     “Of course!” Pidge chortled.

     “Many of the magic protections on Altea were designed and set in place by Hoshi-san. What more you learn from her, of her, is of course up to her.”

     “Sven, your grandma kicks ass,” Pidge sang out happily.

     Sven turned again to Raibal. “This is a part I don’t know,” he said slowly, a little uncertainly. “Who was my father, then? I can hardly remember him. Was he Altean? I remember now, he was Norwegian and that was why we all lived in Oslo.”

     Raibal shook his head slowly, his grey eyes going slightly distant. “His name was Leif Wesson. He was a Terran who found his way here, and became a good friend. He was killed in Alfor’s war with Zarkon’s forces.”

     Lance frowned. “But, I thought… What about Commander Bjørnsen…”

     “I always knew Edvard Bjørnsen was not my real father,” Sven said as if he hadn’t heard. “Still, I saw him as such, since my mother married him when I was ten. My only full-blooded sister, Mariana, and I…we remember Leif Wesson a little, Erik not at all. I think I was six or seven when he died. Our mother never spoke of him. I wonder now...Master Raibal, who was my grandfather? I never knew."

     Raibal sighed. “I do not know. Yukiko never said who the father of her daughter was. Perhaps Yukiko could explain it best, if you ask her. There is, of course, more to the story and I think you would not want to wait. I can also tell you what happened, because I knew them all…well. We can speak of this later, though.”

     Sven appeared lost in thought, the meeting apparently over. Raibal rose to his feet, as did the others. He crossed to Princess Allura, took her hand and kissed it gently while she smiled.

     “Your Highness,” he said graciously, “this planet and its people owe much to your father, and to you and your friends. The Red Lion is being seen to by our top technicians. I would we could aid you better, and perhaps, in time, we will.” He bowed slightly again, then pivoted on his heel and left, leaving the others to ponder the scene that had just passed.





     Lance cornered Sven shortly after the meeting, as the latter was strolling down a corridor, his mind clearly elsewhere. Lance loomed out of the shadows, waving his good arm menacingly, but Sven only flashed him a quick and somewhat distant smile of recognition and would have continued on his way, had Lance not stepped in front of him.

      “What is it, Lance?” Sven asked, looking over his friend’s shoulder and raising his eyebrows.

     “How’s Erik?” he asked first, with real concern, for Sven had made no mention of his brother’s condition upon entering the Aerie earlier, though his face appeared drawn.

     Sven frowned with consternation. “Still unconscious,” he said bleakly. “The medics-or healers, as they call them here-were able to repair the damage to his liver, where Lotor struck him, but his fever was aggravated by the loss of blood. Still, he’s fighting. And Morella seems sure he’ll pull through all right.”

     Lance hoped so, said as much, though he said it for Sven’s sake, for he still felt his friend’s concern for his brother was misplaced. Sven was about to continue on his way, but Lance refused to move.

     “You’re a poor actor, buddy,” Lance chided somewhat contemptuously. “You’re on your way to see Raibal, aren’t you?” He hurried on without waiting for an answer. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” he burst out, glowering.

     Sven frowned, obviously confused. “Lance, what are you talking about, now?” he asked, a little impatiently.

     “I’ll get right to the point.”

     “Please do,” Sven said, without malice.

     Lance took a deep breath, then glared. “You’re thinking of staying, aren’t you?”

     “What!” Sven was taken aback. “How did you guess?”

     “I told you you’re not much of an actor. Have you spoken to Romelle, yet?”

      “Of course.”

     “And?”

     “She agrees with me, that we owe it to the Alteans to help repair some of the damage Haggar and Lotor and Erik have done.”

     “You don’t have to clean up after your brother.”

     “Lance, that’s not the issue, and this has nothing to do with Erik.”

     “Oh, really? Then why don’t you come back with us, to Arus? Allura can’t fly and be Queen at the same time. You could have your old job back.”

     A hint of a smile touched Sven’s mouth at Lance’s words, but never reached his eyes. Lance already knew his answer even before Sven shook his head. “Lance, I don’t think it was ever intended to be my place to fly the Blue Lion. It’s YOUR destiny to be the Voltron Force, not mine. I think my days on Arus were just…a jumping off point for finding my real destiny.”

     Lance rolled his eyes. “Now he’s talking about destinies! You idiot. Why not go back to Pollux, marry your princess, and live happily ever after?”

     Sven colored slightly and ducked his eyes. “Romelle does not want to. Return to Pollux right away, I mean. We discussed it. She has a University degree, you know. She was never interested in court life, and her heart was never on Pollux.”

     “Not as long as you’re here, my sweet,” Lance mimicked in a squeaky and truly terrible falsetto. Sven shot him a murderous glare that quickly softened.

     “That’s not what she said,” he admonished, indignant on Romelle’s behalf, but knowing Lance was not serious. “And there’s nothing for me back at Galaxy Garrison,” he went on. “Not with an honorable discharge from combat duty waiting for me back at HQ. This is where I came from, where my family came from. And there is Hoshi-san’s prophesy…”

     Lance smirked. “You realize of course, that you’re being manipulated.”

     “By Raibal?”

     “Of course by Raibal, and his flunkies.”

     “We’re being manipulated into staying?”

     “Yes, that too…”

     “That too? What else am I being manipulated into doing?” Sven demanded, color rising in his cheeks.

     “Oh, go talk to Raibal!”

     “What!”

     “You heard me. I-can’t quite explain it. I just have this feeling.” His expression broke into a huge, but somewhat mysterious grin. “Don’t ask me what I mean. I don’t know. Just…go!” He started to hurry away down the corridor.

     “And where are you going?” Sven demanded.

     Lance turned and shrugged helplessly. “You’re not coming back with us. I have to go talk to Keith!”

     Sven’s eyes narrowed. “You’d go to any length to pick up a girl, wouldn’t you?”

     “Damn right!” Lance’s laughter echoed back down the corridor.



     Lance stood in the darkened landing bay. The wind sweeping down through the mountains lashed against the great metal portals and was muffled to a low whisper. Within, the air was still frostbitten, but the chill did little to cool his temper. Needing something to grasp hold of that he couldn’t break, Lance moved in the dark to the somnolent bulk of the Red Lion, leaned against it’s paw, his forehead resting against the cool metal. He was furious, so furious he could not contain himself among company, had to be alone, where he could inflict no bodily harm on either Keith or Raibal.

     The interview had NOT gone well. Keith had listened politely, and then demanded with his usual sincerity: “Are you out of your mind?”

     Bristling at the unexpectedly negative response, Lance had again chalked up Ekatia’s qualifications-her skill at handling the sled, her knowledge of the key-interlock system, her heritage, her courage, even her NAME was perfect.

     “And she doesn’t belong here, Keith. I can see it. Anyway,” he added a little slyly, before he could stop himself, “we need a token woman on the team.”

     THAT had not been a clever move. Keith had stared at his lieutenant and Lance had known then that this was a lost cause. Still, he thought Keith’s sharp: “We can’t go recruiting every young woman you find attractive!” was a little harsh, said as much, which probably wasn’t a clever move, either.

      “That’s cheap, Keith,” he had snapped, his hazel eyes flashing dangerously, and color rising in his cheeks, “and you know it’s not true. I mean, she is pretty,” he added hastily as Keith regarded him dubiously. “But…dammit, have some more respect for ME! I think she’d be good. She’d be great! You put up with Graham’s candidates. Well, she’s mine. I’ll sponsor her, nominate her, whatever. Or would you feel safer flying with one of Graham’s recruits?” He’d smiled vindictively as Keith blenched, but knew he hadn’t won anything.

     The leader of the Voltron Force had recovered his cool quickly. “Lance,” he said gently, “that’s not the issue. I’d love to bring Kat back with us. I like her and I think the others do. And besides, as you said, it would be good to have another woman on the team. But it can’t be her. And you know why.”

     And he did. Because the Alteans would go to any length to keep their planet safe from outsiders. They couldn’t just let their people flitter about the Galaxy-not one young girl on a wild whim. Someone might ask questions-Graham and the rest at GG certainly would-and though they could invent a believable cover story for her, there was always a chance… Lotor and Haggar would recognize her again and she would be a target. (Not that any one of them weren’t targets, Lance reminded himself. But the very idea of Lotor’s implacable hatred concentrated on that girl made him shudder.) No, there were so many reasons to leave her behind. ONE of Graham’s recruits had to be good for something. If not, there were others. Perhaps in time Sven could be persuaded, though he doubted it, or Romelle, and-

     And that didn’t change ANYTHING.

     It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t RIGHT.

     He glowered up at the blank, dull eyes of the Red Lion. It WASN’T that she was pretty: he honestly did not find her so attractive physically, not with those huge dark eyes all wrong in that delicate, pale face, that slight figure all but lost in those masses of thick, dark hair. No, it was something more, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She didn’t belong here. Just watching her go about the bleak grey corridors, a brightly-colored, high-spirited bird with her wings clipped through no fault of her own, made his skin hurt. But that was it-a feeling, as vague as that, but the strongest feeling… She felt RIGHT, somehow, the way the others-Twyla, Bokar, and Garret had felt completely WRONG. He trusted her. He liked her. The others liked her and, dammit, it made SENSE to bring her back with them. They had all journeyed to Altea for a purpose. Sven and Romelle had found each other and confronted Lotor and Haggar. Erik had found his brother and his heritage. Allura had discovered another piece in the puzzle of her father’s strange legacy.

     Lance was a realist, even a bit of a cynic. But he also had a strong sense of irony, enough to believe HE too had come here for a reason. It had to be her. It just had to.

     “Dammit!” he muttered, his fist clenched against his thigh. “I’ve been doubted, kept up late, frozen, mauled by monsters, shot, smacked, imprisoned, all in the name of true love. It’s about time I got something out of it!”

     And then, as on another sleepless night almost a week ago, he knew where he had to go then, what to do. No one else would fight for her. Well, he would! Raibal wouldn’t like it, and he knew Keith wouldn’t like it, but he was damned if he stood there and did nothing!



     Lance had always held a reputation as a consummate charmer. At the Academy, few were his peers (chiefly the female kind) and even superiors who were immune to his witty, sometimes easy, sometimes intense humor, his rakish charisma. WHY then, was he constantly rubbing people the wrong way, lately?

     It hadn’t gone right from the start. The stony composure that had clamped down over Raibal’s features at his first ultimatum caused his heart to sink and he wondered if he were actually doing Kat more harm than good in plunging on, but he couldn’t stop himself. He restated all the reasons he’d given Keith for Kat’s returning with them, including, on a whim, his quip about a token woman, just in case Raibal had a secret sense of humor. He even blurted out all he’d thought before, about her feeling right in some vague way. Raibal listened in silence throughout, and though he did offer a slightly indulgent smile as Lance chalked up his own grievances, he wasn’t sure if he should take that as a good omen or not.

     He finished helplessly, throwing out his last, ragged arguments as they came to him: “Besides, you’re getting two of our friends in exchange. And now that we know Lotor and Haggar aren’t dead, we NEED some to fly the Blue Lion and we don’t have time to train a replacement. And-you can’t keep her here against her will. Not when she wants to go-”

     Raibal frowned. “Did she say this to you?”

     Lance bit his lip. “Well, no…”

     “Then how do you know?”

     Lance sighed, drained. “I just know.” He tried to explain to Raibal about the way he just seemed to sense when things were right, when people weren’t what they seemed, but he was losing heart, sensing defeat in the hard set of the man’s lips. “I know she’s your niece,” he said gently. “I know you’re the only family she has. Believe me, she’d be cared for on Arus. She’d live in a castle and while the Princess’s governess is a psychopath who hates my guts, the woman CAN cook…”

     Raibal buried his face in his hands and Lance broke off his litany, startled. Raibal shook his head slowly and without raising his eyes, said: “Lieutenant Turniev, do you have any idea what you sound like?”

     “Like a man at the end of his rope?” he offered.

     Raibal lifted his head, regarded him stolidly. “Like a flustered cadet asking his superior officer if it’s all right to take his daughter out on a date.”

     Lance flushed deeply, wondered wildly if perhaps it was his reputation as a consummate charmer that was giving him all this trouble? “Sir, that’s not it at all,” he responded hotly. “The bottom line is, we NEED a new pilot for the Blue Lion, SHE’D be perfect, her talents and spirit are WASTED here and…DAMMIT! I won’t fly with someone I don’t know, don’t trust. It’s got to be her, and if you tell me ‘no’, then…I swear I won’t leave. Ever.” He was truly agitated, now. “That’s no idle threat.”

     Raibal waited until he ran out of breath. When Lance paused, he interjected abruptly, “May I go on now, Lieutenant?” Lance drew up sharply, prepared to listen, but also prepared to fight to the death. Raibal waited a moment to be sure Lance was truly listening, then went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “I am duly terrified. However, you still sound like a flustered cadet, so I shall treat you as such. I think you’re completely crazy, but then, so is she. But, man, if you want to take my daughter out on a date, you’re asking the wrong person.”

     “I’m not crazy!” Lance burst out. “Why does everyone think I’m crazy?” Then he paused. “What did you say?”

     Raibal sighed and for once in mannerism so resembled his young niece that Lance was startled. “You never asked HER, did you?” It was more a statement of a fact than a question.

     Lance gathered his strength to continue his tirade, but the words died on his lips as he caught the faintest glimpse of what Raibal was saying. Heedless of caution or protocol, almost choking on his hope and astonishment, he laid his hands palm-down on the desk, narrowed his eyes at Raibal’s face. “Did you just say…?”

     “ASK her, Lieutenant,” Raibal said heavily, returning his wary look with one of weary superiority. “If she is willing, then she has my consent.”

     Lance, who had been expecting nothing short of a war, was stunned. He almost let it show, too. “Sir…but…WHY? I thought-”

     “Thought what, Lieutenant?” Raibal questioned with studied patience. “That I could be so immune to what’s in my only niece’s heart? Believe me, that girl has never been one to hide her feelings, no more than Jai and Klia ever were, although, lately, she’s been behaving far too docilely for my peace of mind…” Lance realized the man must be referring to Kat’s dead parents, and adopted a contrite air. Which wasn’t all that easy; he was baffled at Raibal’s unexpected acquiescence, and therefore more than a little wary. He couldn’t believe it, but he strove to contain himself as Raibal went on somberly, “I told you she’s crazy. And I think you’re crazy, although you must have some redeeming qualities or else you wouldn’t be flying a Lion of Voltron. But I trust Princess Allura, Lord Corran, and Commander Hawkins. What is more, I suppose we do owe you something for saving our planet and our lives. You don’t have to look so suspicious!” he laughed at Lance’s sudden look. “Furthermore, Lieutenant Bjørnsen and Princess Romelle have elected to remain on Altea for an undetermined length of time. Since I very much doubt you’d trust Erik Bjørnsen to take his brother’s place, and as you said, you do need someone to fly the Blue Lion at present…and I would not stand in Ekatia’s way, neither of her will, nor…her birthright.”

     Lance’s confusion was manifest on his face. “Birthright?”

     “Well, if you believe in such things, in a manner of speaking,” Raibal explained lightly. His grey eyes went distant, momentarily held a trace of an old sadness. “My younger brother, you see, was the first pilot of the Blue Lion, under King Alfor’s command.”

     Lance’s eyes widened. “Her FATHER?”

     “Her other uncle, Jaifal. He was killed when the witch Haggar separated Voltron, before Ekatia was even born. Klia was our younger sister.”

     Lance whistled. “My, what a tangled web… Does she know?”

     “No. We thought it was for the better. If she learns now, there is no harm done, except I think the witch will have another implacable enemy…if she doesn’t, already.”

     “I think she does, if I know our Kat.” OUR Kat, he mused, feeling a slightly idiotic grin sliding across his face. He was so amazed he was getting light-headed. He mind raced. The situation had changed far too quickly. He had been all set to fight Raibal until the end. HOW was he going to tell Keith? Would Allura mind? Would Kat fit into Allura’s pink uniform? What the HELL kind of stupid question was THAT?

     Raibal had his arms crossed over his broad chest, was regarding him bemusedly. “You have the oddest look on your face…”

     “I was just wondering,” Lance said, frowning, “all these years…have I been wearing the uniform of Kat’s uncle?” At Raibal’s nod, he blenched a little, then his eyes narrowed. “Leif Wesson was killed…‘in Alfor’s war with Zarkon’s soldiers.'"

     “Leif Wesson was the pilot of the Black Lion.”

     “Jesus! Does Sven know?”

     “He does, now.”

     Lance closed his eyes. “Talk about tangled webs… They all died, though. All the original pilots were killed when Haggar used her magic.” Then suddenly he remembered the reason for this interview. “Kat!” he spluttered. “Sir,” he said hurriedly, “this has been extremely edifying, but…”

     “Oh, go.” Raibal dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Go win my niece!”



     He stopped abruptly just inside the landing bay, however. Behind him the portal whooshed shut, sending a small gust of air rushing against his back and leaving him no exit, though he realized after a moment of nervous silence that she hadn’t noticed his entrance.

     The bay was dark save for the corner in which she worked, the white light from the ceiling fixture illuminating the scratched hull of her battered sled. He couldn’t judge the damage from where he stood, but every now and then a strangled curse rang out from somewhere near the hatch so he gathered even without the Alteans’ machinations, the weather was no pleasant thing.

     He heard a metallic rattle from the sled, slipped into the shadows as Ekatia emerged from the hatch. Her clothes--again the drab, unremarkable greys and browns customary to her people, he noted--were oil-stained and disheveled. She sighed gustily, and leaned against the open hatch, brushing back from her dirt-smudged face, a wisp of hair that had escaped its clasp. In one hand she held a wrench. She stared at it, then glanced at her sled and up at the closed portal, her expression one of helpless fury and frustration. Then, with only a ragged cry of anger, she spun around and hurled the wrench at the portal with all her might.

     The wrench hurtled past Lance and he dodged aside, a cry of surprise escaping his lips, unfortunately discernable over the clang of the instrument against the portal. He saw the girl tense.

     “Who’s there?” she demanded, her voice sharp.

     He gave himself a mental kick in the head, shrugged his shoulders helplessly, and stepped into the light. “It’s only me, Lance,” he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Truce?” he inquired, flashing her a bright, if unconvincing grin.

     She favored him with an equally unconvincing smile and he saw her tense slightly, though she made a small effort to hide it. “Lance,” she said. “What do you want?”

     And what was he supposed to say to that? Kat, guess what…? Kat, get the hell down here so I can sweep you up in my arms and carry you off to Arus? Kat, you silly girl, you’re too smart for your own good? She was eyeing him suspiciously, all pretense of friendliness gone. No, she wasn’t one to hide her feelings, didn’t deserve to be played games with, as Raibal had done.

      “Kat,” he said, “I need to talk with you.”

     “Not right now, Lance. I’m too busy.” She looked about her as if seeking something and Lance bent and retrieved the wrench.

     “Missing something?” he said with a grin, turning it over in his hands. She flushed deeply. “Get down here so I can talk with you. If you promise not to hurl any more blunt instruments at me, you can have this one back.”

     She crossed her arms over her chest. “Lance, I really don’t have the time…”

     “I know, I know. You have to repair your sled so you can get the hell out of the City. But that’s not much of an escape.” Suddenly he asked, “Why have you been avoiding me?”

     “I have NOT been avoiding you.”

      “Yes you have. You’ve been keeping your distance from all of us. I’d have thought, with your dislike of Altea, you’d have been all over us, picking our brains for stories…” He hadn’t seen her move in the shadows, but suddenly she let out another furious cry and a second heavy metal tool followed the first, whistling through the air just over his head. He ducked, though he knew she hadn’t aimed to strike. “Truce, I said! Dammit, girl!” he thundered, starting forward. She seemed to sink further into the shadows, the light from above illuminating only the slight curve of her jaw line, the deep glitter of her eyes.

     “Stay away from me, Lance!” she warned, her voice ragged with outrage. “I swear I have a whole toolbox and better aim than that!”

     “I’m duly terrified,” he said pleasantly, echoing Raibal. He smiled up at her. “Kat, come down. I need to tell you something.”

     “I don’t want to hear it. Truly, Lance. I will be honest with you,” and her thin little face peaked out into the light again. “You can’t imagine how hard it is to be around you-all of you-knowing that in just a few days you’ll all leave, and you can fly to any planet in the Galaxy, anywhere you want, any time, and I’ll be stuck here for the rest of my life. I don’t want to hear about Arus and Pollux. I don’t want you to tell me what it’s like to swim in free-flowing water, to see flowers and trees that aren’t grown under artificial lights.”

     “I wasn’t going to get poetic with you, Kat,” he said and immediately regretted his sarcastic tone, for she flinched. Seeing the anger and hurt that radiated from her slight form made his skin hurt. He hated her acceptance, her defeat. Dammit, where was his Kat, the one who had so audaciously stood up to Lotor and his guards just two days ago? Why wasn’t this working? He sighed again, then decided to go for broke. “Kat, you little idiot, don’t you think I understand? Why the hell would I bother telling you about all that when I’d much rather show it to you?”

     She looked at him for a long moment as if she didn’t comprehend what he had said, then her eyes narrowed and she shook her head, laughing bitterly. “Don’t even joke about that, Lance. Please, leave me alone.”

     “What the hell?” There was indignation in his voice and he bridged the rest of the space between them, leaning against the sled, his head only a few yards from her feet, so that she was forced to kneel to see him at all. “I can understand the others never trusting me, but you I haven’t known long enough for you to know my reputation. But you might know I don’t lie…unless it benefits me considerably,” he added with a wink, at which she snorted rather indelicately. “I’m not lying to you, Kat,” he told her. “I never would. I’ve spoken to Raibal and he’s given his consent.”

     “Consent? For what?”

     “To marry you. To come to Arus with us, of course.”

     “Arus!”

     “Yes, Arus, silly. You think I’m going to let those damn recruits destroy Voltron? Sven has made it clear he’s staying here, so we need someone to fly the Blue Lion. And for any number of reasons, among them the fact that you’re a damn good pilot, if a crazy one, I’ve chosen…you!”

     Silence.

     “Kat?”

      “My uncle…he would NEVER give his consent. I don’t believe you!”

     “Believe me, Kat,” he said wearily. “Some day maybe I’ll tell you the story of how I did battle with your uncle for your favor, but right now I just need to know…are you coming or not?”

     “Lance, you don’t understand,” she said hesitantly. “This is all unreal. Altea is the only home I have ever known, Raibal and Morella the only family I have. My friends are here. And…no one leaves Altea. For me just to leave…with you…not knowing where I’m going…going to fight…”

     “Are you afraid?” he demanded, incredulous.

     His tone seemed to rekindle her spirit. Her eyes flashed. “I’m afraid of nothing! I want to fight!”

      “So come with me, Kat,” he said gently, sincerely. “You’ll get to fight like hell and ride the Blue Lion. We’ll teach you to swim in your free-flowing water and lie out in green fields under a gold sun.”

     For some reason the door behind him slid open, letting in a flood of light and voices from the corridor. “I see you brought the cavalry,” Ekatia said softly, and he turned in surprise. Behind him stood Raibal, flanked by Allura, Keith, Sven and Romelle, Hunk, and Pidge.

     “Raibal,” Lance said wildly, turning to the others, “tell your niece you’re letting her out on good behavior. She’s having trouble.”

     “I don’t know about good behavior,” Raibal mused, “but what he says is true.”

     He heard Ekatia gasp quietly behind him, but he didn’t turn. His eyes sought Keith’s, challenging him, daring him to contradict him. But he didn’t. Instead, Keith grinned, and, looking up at Ekatia, said with just the faintest of pleas, “Come to Arus, Ekatia. Come for my sanity.”

     “You would be most welcome on Arus,” Allura added. “My planet is beautiful and you would live in a castle.”

     “With all the food you ever wanted,” Hunk put in, grinning vastly.

     “Yeah!” Pidge chimed in. “And then I wouldn’t be the youngest, anymore.”

     Lance frowned, turning back to Ekatia. “How old are you, anyway?” he asked.

     She smiled at him, and then at Pidge. “I’m eighteen.”

     “Dammit!” Pidge grumbled and shoved his hands into his pockets.

     “Hey, I’d no longer be the shortest,” Lance observed wryly.

      “And you need someone to fly the Blue Lion…at present,” said Sven and something in his tone caused Lance’s ears to prick up.

     Present, huh? He cast Sven a sideways glance. Sven and Romelle were both looking at him, caught his slightly accusatory glance, and shrugged innocently. “You went to talk to Keith,” said Sven with a grin. “We knew better.”

     Lance started to say something, changed his mind, and looked back up at Kat and grinned. “Come on, say yes, Kat. You can’t fight all of us.”

     She slid down the side of the sled, landing neatly on her feet in front of him, almost in his arms. Her face was lit with joy. He wasn’t touching her, but he could feel her exultation across the narrow space between them. She smiled up at him, dazzlingly. “Yes! Yes, I will go to Arus with you. I will fly the Blue Lion, I will fight your enemies!”

     The others moved forward, thronged around Lance and Ekatia. In the hubbub, Lance caught Keith’s eyes over Ekatia’s head, raised one brow in superiority. Keith didn’t bat an eye.

     “Shut up, Lance.” Taking Ekatia’s hand in his own and smiling broadly, “Welcome to the Voltron Force, Ekatia of Altea. Welcome to the fight.”





     Erik Bjørnsen tossed in an impossibly vast ocean of black, brackish water. Slimy, reptilian hands grasped at his ankles, seeking to drag him back down into madness and death. Someone was calling to him, across the crash of the waves and he clawed upward for it desperately. He knew if he could just reach it… It was a woman’s voice, one achingly familiar, and it spoke to him in soft, soothing tones that broke through the surging currents to him, lowered the waters that sought to drown him, driving off the hands that were pulling him under. The waters parted, allowing the pale sun to filter down to him. He swam toward it, spurred onward by the voice.

     He woke slowly, the dredges of his dream still clinging to his fever-ravaged mind. The sun still shone down on him, the sun- He blinked to clear his vision. What he had taken for the sun was no more than a pale, cool light fixed to the austere white ceiling. Another hospital, he thought grimly. Or the same one? Had everything that passed been a dream? There were things he remembered so vividly, but it all held a nightmarish, dream-like quality, and his mind reeled painfully. Without moving, he cast about for the one who had called to him, but he was alone. He closed his eyes and fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep.





     When Erik woke again the room no longer swam and though he felt mild disorientation, he knew he wasn’t in the same bed in which he had awoken all those weeks ago. As the tangled vines of sleep drifted from his eyes, he knew he hadn’t dreamt any of it. He sensed also that he was not alone in the room. He struggled to rise.

     “Don’t do that,” a familiar voice at his bedside warned, too late. Erik fell back weakly, gasping as pain and dizziness clouded his eyes for a moment.

     When the room stopped spinning he sighed, sank into the soft pillows and composed his features into their usual guarded expression. “So, brother,” he drawled, “what brings you here? I mean, however did you get away from your princess’s clutches? I thought surely…”

     He couldn’t see Sven, but he heard the grating of his chair sliding back against the tiled floor, heard him snap to his feet, moving toward the door, saying: “You asked why I came to see you. That is a good question. I don’t really know, but I think I’m sorry I did.”

     Erik heard the door slide open, and felt a twinge of contrition. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

     Sven paused in the doorway, still out of sight. “Are you really?” he asked in a voice that held little patience. “Truly, Erik? And if you are sorry, do you know what you’re sorry about? Was it just going after Lotor in the end, or do you also regret the killing of quite a few Alteans, and the deceiving of the people I care for, who might have cared for you?”

     Erik’s eyes flashed indignantly. “Why should I be sorry for something I had no power over?”

     Sven sighed audibly and Erik was certain he’d finally offended him beyond repair. He was much surprised, and secretly relieved, when he felt the foot of the bed dip slightly as Sven sat down by his feet. “Well, at least you’re honest,” he remarked coolly.

     Erik’s eyes narrowed. “If I’d said I was sorry about everything you wouldn’t have believed me!”

     “That’s probably true,” Sven replied nonchalantly and silence fell between them.

     It was broken at last by Erik who asked, uncertainly, “Sven…do I still look like you?”

     He felt the bed shake slightly, strained to catch a glimpse of his brother. All he could see was one hand resting on his knee, and it was trembling. “What?” Erik demanded, perturbed. “Are you laughing? Stop laughing!”

     “…Sorry,” Sven muttered finally, his voice quivering. “It’s just…what a question!”

     “Well, do I?” Erik demanded heatedly.

     Sven sobered abruptly. “Yes, you do. There are some practitioners of magic here, but Haggar’s spell is very powerful. That’s why you’re being sent home.”

     “GG will skin me!”

      “Probably, but I meant home as in Oslo.”

     “Oslo! Home…” His eyes greyed for a moment, then he recovered his composure. “Why?”

     “Why? That should be obvious. You disobeyed orders, stole and lost a Garrison ship. And besides you need…help,” he finished helplessly. “Not only that way,” he added gently as Erik bristled. “Sobo is the only one who can give you your own face back.”

     Erik’s eyes fluttered wide in surprise. “Sobo!” he exclaimed, forgetting himself and lapsing into Sven’s name for their grandmother. “What does SHE have to do with anything?”

     So Sven told him, all he had learned from Raibal. Of Yukiko Shirogane, who was more powerful than either of them had guessed. Of their father, Captain Leif Wesson, who had somehow found his way to Altea, crashed there nearly thirty years ago, recovered from his grievous wounds in the care of Midori, Yukiko’s daughter, their mother. Of the love that had bloomed between Midori and Leif and the three children that were the result. Of Leif’s command of the Voltron Force under King Alfor and his tragic defeat and death through Haggar’s treachery. Of Midori’s vow to spare her children growing up on a battle-torn, frozen planet. Her relocation to Norway to be near her late husband’s family…which was where she had met and married Edvard Bjørnsen, the father of her two younger daughters and the only father Erik remembered. Sven also related to him Hoshi’s Vision and its implications. Erik’s expression remained guarded, his lashes barely twitching at their grandmother’s manipulation, her role in the struggle between Arus and the Forces of Doom, and their father’s fate. When he was finished, Erik sighed wearily, and shook his head.

     “So what happens now, brother?”

     “Now? You stay here until you’re strong enough, and then you’re going back to Arus with the Voltron Force. From there Princess Allura will find passage for you to Terra.”

     Erik looked strangely unsettled. “So, this is goodbye?”

     “Soon, yes.”

     “Aren’t you going back to Arus to fly the Blue Lion?”

     “No. Kat is.”

     “Kat!” Erik spluttered. “That little girl? When you could…? Sven, are you insane?”

     He tried to explain how he felt, as he had earlier with Lance. Erik didn’t take it nearly as well, flushing and scowling deeply, his eyes sparkling accusingly. “You ARE crazy. You would give up flying and stay HERE because you feel…in some vague way…that this is your destiny? Because of a dream some old lady had a long time ago?”

     Color rose under Sven’s collar and he felt himself getting defensive. He struggled to keep his voice steady. “YES, Erik. Because I lived the first seven years of my life here, yet I can barely remember any of it, save the way back. Because it’s part of who I am and I want to know as much about it as I can. Because Lotor and Haggar might return-”

      “But Lotor might be dead,” Erik put in quickly. “That was one helluva kick-”

     But Sven shook his head, dismissing the possibility. Erik still looked slightly rebellious, so he continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted: “Because Romelle and I suspect there is more to Hoshi’s Vision than Raibal has let on.”

     Erik, successfully distracted, blinked in mild astonishment. “Oh.” And then significantly, “Oh. I thought you hadn’t… Never mind.”

     “Hadn’t what?” Sven demanded.

     “Nothing. I just… It’s nothing at all.”

     Erik refused to elaborate and indeed he was starting to sound too much like Lance for Sven’s comfort, so he changed the subject, saying, “By the way, that was clever of you, shooting the stalactites instead of aiming for Haggar herself. In your state, you might have hit Romelle or me…”

     Erik regarded him in vast silence, his eyes sea-dark and completely unreadable. An uneasy feeling stole over Sven and he decided suddenly he’d rather not know what that expression meant. After a few moments of silence, he rose to his feet abruptly. “I should be going.” He started moving toward the door.

     Erik called out, “Wait,” and he turned in the doorway. “Something else I remembered, after they fished me out of the moat, before I was sent to Pollux was someone urging me to live. I didn’t recognize the voice at the time, but it was Keith. He was telling me, ‘Live for her.’” Sven looked at him silently, he expression equally unreadable. “How are things with you and the Princess?” Erik asked, finally.

     Sven leaned against the doorframe. “Things are well.”

     “Well? That’s ALL? After all that you just say ‘well’? No, wait-don’t get angry. Jeez.” He really sounded contrite. “I’m glad things are well. Glad I didn’t muck them up too much. Does she have any idea what you did for her? NO? Well, if you ever fall out of her favor…” Sensing he was pushing his luck, “Tell her I’m sorry for what I said in the garden. And…for the rest.”

     “I will.”

     “She really loves you a lot, you know.”

     “By God, that’s almost an apology.”

     “Almost,” he agreed. Then: “Sayonara…ani."

     Sven had been halfway through the doorway, but stopped abruptly and turned at Erik’s unexpected lapse into Japanese. He favored his brother thoughtfully, understanding it for what it was: a concession, and more an apology than any previous admission of guilt. A corner of his mouth tugged upward. "You're supposed to grant me a little respect. It's oniisan."

     Erik scowled up at him.

     He strode back to the bed, reached down, and squeezed Erik’s wrist. “Ja matta, otouto.” Then he turned and the door closed softly behind him.





     Keith finally found Allura in one of Altea’s well-stocked libraries.

     Since Lance had won over Ekatia, he had been resolved to work out his differences with the Princess. Now he found himself hesitating before the great stone portal. Though the Voltron Force had remained on Altea for nearly a week, waiting until Erik was strong enough to travel, in all that time he’d had little opportunity to speak with her. Granted, he had not afforded himself many moments alone with her, and she too had kept her distance, seeking out the company of Raibal and Morella and her cousin or as now, secreting herself away in the library, no doubt poring over the vast tomes of Arusian and Altean history, her birthright. A gulf was widening between them, had been for many weeks, and it hurt, especially when he thought of how close they had been not long ago. He would do much to close that gulf, even if it meant humbling his pride. With a sigh of resignation he squared his shoulders and slid open the massive portal.

     She was exactly as he’d imagined her: perched on a low couch, her long legs tucked up beneath her, her pretty golden head bent over the massive tome on the table before her. Her head bobbed up at the noise of his entrance and she flashed him a quick, bright smile, but one devoid of warmth, tinged with reserve.

     Making an effort to conceal the pang her coolness gave him, he glanced pointedly at the seat beside her, raised his brows questioningly, as if asking her permission. She nodded silently, her expression unchanging as he sat beside her.

     Suddenly, and with a gusty sigh Allura fell back against the soft divan, shaking her head wearily. At his questioning look, she shrugged her shoulders and pouted. “I thought I knew everything about my father’s hand in constructing Voltron. Now I find HERE there’s so much I never knew, that isn’t in the Arusian chronicles. There’s so much to learn and so little time, now. And frankly…it’s fascinating.”

     He didn’t doubt it, but something about her demeanor rang false to him, like a thin sheet of ice over a pool. He couldn’t stand it any longer.

     She peered up at him quizzically and her brittle, bright cheer died abruptly. “What’s wrong, Keith? Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

     He sighed, shook his head and regarded her in silence for a moment while she watched him with mild apprehension. Finally, furious with himself for having drawn it out this long, he burst out, “Allura, I hate this.”

     “So do I!” she said miserably.

     “I feel horrible for treating you so arbitrarily, the other day,” he went on hurriedly, sincerely. “I was doing my duty, but the guys were right when they told me I had been rotten to you. I know how much flying meant to you, and you were right: you had well earned your place with us.”

      “Then why, Keith?” she asked a little plaintively.

     He sighed, shaking his head again. “I thought it would be easier. You are as much a part of the team as any of the others. But the Alliance can’t have you risking yourself when there’s no need. It was different, before. There was no time to train another pilot and we needed someone desperately. But now we have this small space and…I would not have you risk yourself for anything, no matter how capable a pilot you are. And you are good,” he offered sincerely. “I knew you wouldn’t have agreed with me, would have argued to the last if I’d given you any room…”

     “Yes, I can be quite stubborn when I choose to be,” she agreed wryly. She drew her legs up to her chest, encircling them with her arms, her chin resting lightly on her knees. “But I suppose you were right, in a way, however much I hate to admit it. I’ve been so busy!” she cried. “And not just because of this,” with a flutter of her small hand taking in the disappearance of Sven, Romelle, and Lance, the reappearance and defeat of Lotor and Haggar, and the discovery of Altea. “I had no idea how much work goes into just becoming a ruler of Arus! So much ceremony and things to be learned… I have to receive the Trullian ambassador in less than a week and I know next to nothing about the Trull!” The expression she gave him was so helpless, and so deliberately so, that he felt the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

      “I’m sure you’ll manage to charm even the Trull. And you’ll make a fine Queen. A great Queen. I know you will, Allura.”

     “You know, it does me great good to hear you say that. I know I can always trust you to tell me the truth.” She smiled warmly and he smiled back, touched beyond words that she still held him so high in her esteem. But then, he realized, it was not surprising she had come to understand him in her own time. She was, as she herself had pointed out, not a little stubborn, but her headstrong nature was tempered with wisdom and with reason. He too had meant what he said and he would be immensely proud on the day she accepted the Crown of her people. Which would not be too far away, he thought heavily. As if she had read his thoughts she laughed nervously, and closed her eyes for a moment. “I can’t believe how soon it is,” she said. “Just under a year and then…”

      “Queen Allura.”

     With a groan she collapsed against the couch. “Keith, it’s too soon! And I don’t want to think about it right now. Tell me about something else.”

     “Well,” he said, dryly, “I’m trying to compile a mission report for Marshall Graham...”

     “Oh, not that,” she said with a weak laugh. “What are you going to tell him?”

      “I don’t know!” he cried helplessly. “I can’t tell him about Altea and I’m not sure HOW to tell him Sven isn’t returning with us. I suppose I’ll have to mention Lance’s candidate, but I’m not relishing that prospect, either. Graham put so much stock in his recruits. I think if we hadn’t found Kat, he’d have sent more as punishment,” he finished with a groan.

     Allura climbed back into a seated position, her expression gone suddenly distant and he wondered if he had erred in bringing Kat into the conversation. She had welcomed the girl so warmly, but Keith could understand the twinge. Lance was getting far too smug over having won out; he would have to warn his lieutenant to contain himself around Allura.

     She caught his look and smiled. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “You think I’m jealous of Kat? No.” He raised his eyebrows and her smile deepened. “Not truly. Flying the Blue Lion was the most wonderful thing I’ve ever done…so far. I do think being queen will be similar…but different.” She wrinkled her nose. “Does that make any sense, Keith?”

     “Yes,” he said solemnly.

      “And besides,” she went on, pursing her lips briefly into a cute little smile, “Lance seems so crazy about her. He’s been so wonderful these past weeks, despite being as much himself as ever. And also, do you know, there’s never been another girl in the Castle my own age, not since my parents died. Thanks to all of you I’ve known what it is like to have brothers and friends. But I’ve never had a sister.”

     How like her, he thought, to see it in that light. He grinned. “You’re right as usual. How did you know…that’s exactly what I was thinking?”

     She smiled up at him, her blue eyes soft and warm as a summer sky. “Because I’m Allura and you’re Keith. That’s why. But Keith,” she went on, frowning slightly, “what about you? Are you upset about Sven’s decision?”

     “To stay on Altea? I have my reservations. I know what you mean about missing brothers and sisters. I didn’t have any, either, until I started attending the Academy. Lance and Sven became my brothers. I’ll miss him,” he said with a sigh, “but he’s doing what he wants to be doing. He’s resolved. I think it would take all five Lions of Voltron to tear him from Altea.”

      “And from Romelle,” Allura put in, blushing at her own romantic notions.

     Keith avoided her eyes. He could never burden her with what had been gnawing at his heart regarding his friend’s idyll. He still felt chagrin for having broached the notion to Sven and Romelle, for he did not wish to cast shadows on their newfound happiness. Still, he could not shake the fear that this peace was an ephemeral one. Pollux would need allies in its struggle against the Drul, and it would be in her planet’s best interest for the Princess Romelle to make a politically advantageous match, under which category former pilots for Galaxy Garrison did not exactly qualify. He had been only slightly reassured by Sven and Romelle’s responses. Sven had given him one of the hardest looks he’d ever seen, said quietly but firmly, “They can try.” Romelle had answered his challenge a bit more vocally, crying only half-jokingly, “If that’s what they want, Sven can just conquer a planet. It can’t be that hard.” As they both looked at her in astonishment she had added fiercely, “I’ll help him!”

     But instead of sharing this with Allura, he said reluctantly, “Neither Corran, Prince Bandor, nor any of GG’s scouts have heard anything of Haggar or Lotor, which is a relief, but in a way I’d much rather know where they are, what they’re up to.”

     Allura nodded her agreement, her face closed off, her eyes going distant. “Yes,” she said. “I know.”

     Silence fell between them for a long moment. Finally, he inclined his head politely, waited for her to return the gesture before sliding off the couch and moving toward the door. Just as he was reaching out for the control panel by the great portal, he heard her utter a soft cry behind him, in his mind’s eye saw her lean over to retrieve the small, glittering object on the floor near the spot he had vacated.

     “Keith…” she called out, hesitantly, and he turned, guilt riddled across his face.

     “You dropped your key,” she said, holding it up in one hand.

     “I do from time to time,” he admitted, shrugging at his apparent absent-mindedness.

     “You shouldn’t,” she began, then her eyes widened as she caught his meaning. Her mouth made the shape of a little “o” and she clutched the key against her bosom, inexpressibly touched by what he was offering her.

     “Just don’t let Nanny know,” he advised gently. “And…don’t fly alone. At least, not yet.”

     In one fluid motion she was on her feet, bridging the space between them. She stopped right before him, looking up at him helplessly for a moment. Then a joyous cry escaped her lips and she threw her arms about his neck, in her exuberance causing him to stagger back. For an instant he quailed, but then he told himself that was stupid and cowardly, and he let his arms go about her, drawing her into a close embrace, giving her back her Astral Knight, and her friend.

     “Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you so much.”





     Another two days and both Erik and the Red Lion were declared fit to fly. By that time, however, most of the Voltron Force was loath to leave Altea. Allura had more or less claimed the library as her own and spent much of her time either delving through Altean records or else up in the Aerie with Raibal and Morella and anyone old enough to have remembered her father, then a young prince, during his stay on Altea. Keith was proud to make the acquaintance of a new, if somewhat peculiar, ally in the struggle against Doom and the Drul Empire. He spent his hours deep in discussion with Ramni, the new Master of Security-whose predecessor, Alosh, had been killed in Erik’s assault on the generator-offering his own experience and expertise in the assessment and improvement of Altea’s planetary defenses. Pidge and Hunk-computer genius and skilled mechanic, respectively-were intrigued with the introduction of new levels of technology into their spectrum of understanding. Throughout the refitting of the Red Lion, Hunk had watched, spell-bound, as the Master Mechanics of Altea worked their miracles-nothing short of which, Hunk would have concluded, could have saved the wrecked hull-grinning ear to ear in rapt fascination.

     Lance and Ekatia alone seemed eager to depart. Ekatia’s reasons were understandable enough. She had never been off Altea in her young life and though she would be leaving behind all that remained of her family and everyone she had ever known, she could not suppress the sparkle that suffused her entire being, despite several half-teasing warnings to contain herself. She couldn’t help it. Since it had been decided she would depart Altea, she had probed the Force shamelessly and quite ingenuously for information on her new home. She was drunk on the notion of a golden sun to warm one’s skin, and clear, running water to swim in, and a home that stood tall and proud in the open instead of lying hidden in some forbidding mountain-range.

     Lance insisted, a bit more forthrightly, that they return with all haste to Arus because, he said, the idea of Haggar and Lotor still at large and the Castle of Lions and Arusians unprotected sent shivers up his spine. That was what he said, anyway, but it may also have had something to do with the looks that passed between Sven and Romelle when they thought no one was watching, and with Ekatia’s infectious laughter.

     When at last it came time to depart, however, their reluctance was tinged with some relief. They had been there a week, after all, and though Corran had messaged the Force that there was no trouble stirring on Arus, he also informed them somberly that Marshal Graham had contacted him TWICE for an update on their activities, and a new shipment of recruits had been dumped on the Castle doorstep just the other day.

     “It’s perdition,” Lance explained to Sven as they made their good-byes before the Red Lion. “Keith did something really, really awful at some point in his otherwise spotless life, and it’s coming back to haunt him. It is now my job to find out what it is.” He glared significantly at Sven, who shrugged and shook his head.

     “Well, take care of yourself,” he said lightly, but sincerely, then embraced his friend tightly and clapped him on the back. “I MEAN it,” he added pointedly. “And take care of her.” He gestured toward Romelle, who was off to the right beside the Blue Lion, hugging her cousin and Ekatia farewell.

     Sven followed his gaze and a genuine smile lit his face. “I will. I would die for her.”

     “Don’t scare me. LIVE for her, for a change.”

     Sven grinned at him. “That’s what Keith said. Is Keith…is he all right?” Keith had wandered over to join the three women, was talking earnestly to Romelle. At his side, Allura appeared to be nodding her agreement to whatever it was he was saying. Lance’s eyes lingered over Ekatia, who was watching Keith raptly. He wasn’t sure yet what to make of that look, so he shrugged it aside, smiled inwardly at her purposeful stance, her flashing falcon-eyes. He had made a good choice, he appraised smugly, before turning back to Sven.

     “Keith,” Lance began, then shook his head solemnly. “Allura told me Keith was nearly stark out of his mind with worry when they thought you were dead and the guy they were chasing was a robot. I think…I think he feels somehow responsible for all of us, a veritable mother hen! I also think he sees you as sort of an extension of himself, the one who gets to smite the bad guys and gets the girl.”

     “But Keith fights for a lady, too.”

     “Not…overtly. He doesn’t get to be the knight-errant. For him…it always has to be a job, a duty. He never gets to put himself first.” Seeing Sven’s discomfiture, he added thoughtfully, “And he’s been under a lot of pressure, despite what I said before. He was so certain after we fought Doom, that we’d won and we could all have our respective happy endings. And we’re back to square one. It gets to you.”

     “What gets to you?” inquired Romelle, drawing near.

     “Everything,” he replied blithely. “The weather, the scenery, his accent. I wish you luck, m’lady.” He bowed with a flourish.

     When he rose, she caught his hands in her own, turning her warm smile upon him. “Both of us owe you so much. You are a true friend. Thank you,” she breathed and, leaning forward, kissed him lightly on the cheek. She laughed outright when she saw he had turned crimson and his grin nearly split his face.

     “Romelle, be nice to him,” Sven chided easily.

     “Sorry,” he laughed, recovering. “You blonde princesses just have that effect on me.” Favoring her with a mischievous grin, “And YOU be nice to HIM,” he added, wagging a finger at her. “After all the trouble I took…no more beating him up, okay, Melle?”

     Sven’s eyes widened. “MELLE?”

     Lance winked at the princess. She nodded solemnly, then smiled up at him again and moved back to stand by Sven.

     Keith was calling to him. It was time to go. The others had already ascended into their Lions, with a still-pale Erik accompanying Keith in the Black Lion and Allura in the Blue for perhaps the last time. Lance stood in the hatchway for a moment, taking one last look at those he was leaving. Raibal and Morella stood to one side, arms about each other, their expressions pleased but impassive. They were flanked by multitudes of Alteans, who raised their hands in salute as the other four Lions took to the sky. He looked last at Romelle and Sven, standing together in the snow, smiling proudly, her head resting against his tall shoulder. From the Red Lion, Ekatia called to him and he grinned. He turned finally, carrying in his heart that last image of his friends as the Red Lion roared to life and lifted him skyward.


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