#i saw a post where someone called Meeks a human calculator

[bee--28]

Born to be Todd Anderson (quiet anxious poet) forced to be Steven Meeks ("human calculator")

[starfaring-princelotor]

First Sight

Summary: It has been a year since Emperor Lotor’s disappearance. The Medic has been trying to survive.

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★

Warnings: Blood, light gore, mentions of death.

A/N: Wow, in this blessed year of 2019, I still hate S8 with a burning passion.

Also, a special thank you to @legendofcarl and @fairy-cat-mother for beta reading this long chapter!

Touch Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Taste Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Sight Series: Part One ___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four

“Captain Shirogane. Whittaker didn’t make it.”

Another soul lost, another day of war continued. The captain’s back was towards you, but his face was watching the sun rise over the silent, desolate hills. He has been standing guard for most of the night and you took note of this one important detail. Even a captain needed rest, even a doctor needed to put the scalpel down once in a while. Shiro sighed heavily then turned towards you, his expression stoic like a hardened soldier but eyes...his eyes told you everything.

“You stayed with him?” he asked, avoiding the red dotting your coat.

“Until his last breath.”

“They don’t teach you about that in training.”

“No, sir. No, they...they do not,” you crossed your arms, “I don’t think that it is possible to teach something like this, Captain.”

A pregnant pause, a few seconds of Shiro’s gaze studying the restless sunken sockets on your face.

“Takashi. I told you to call me Takashi. We’re well acquainted enough by now. It’s been what? A year since I pulled you out of that ditch?”

“A year and 3 days, exactly,” you cautioned a step closer, heart hurting and hands dirtied with blood, “We make it out of here alive and I’ll start listening to you, friend.”

As a friend. As a comrade. As a pair of fractured misfits trying to cozy up in society again like the war overseas didn’t already kill their souls. We can’t leave this behind us, no matter how many bullets we take. We can’t die, but we can’t live like nothing happened. We can’t be doctor and captain, yet we can’t remember who we really were before all of this. The idea that we made it would be enough for us. It would be enough.

There was a red dot between his brows.

BANG!

BANG!

Jolting from your sleep never felt so real before. You swore, you were back in the barracks with your nerves and hackles raised in defense at...nothing. It was just a dream. A memory, a time that you would have preferred rather than now. Another loud bang made you clutch the scratchy blanket tighter to your chest, moth eaten and too thin to really keep you warm in the cold cell.

The lights flicked on, revealing you and the rest of the prisoners huddled together. Mere foot soldiers to flight fighters to ion cannon engineers from Lotor’s ship. Hostages to Haggar’s will and interrogation. Zarkon’s witch. No, you recall that those who were summoned never once returned. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened to them.

“You.” Sendak’s voice alone had you cringing from the sheer resolution behind it, “Your trial has come.”

You narrowed your eyes at him like a mouse trapped in a corner with other scared, meek beings. And they were right to be afraid. By all technicality, you and the Galra under his ward were the last to see Emperor Lotor alive. You specifically saw him leave and you knew this very fact would be held against your case.

When you made no movement, only to delay the inevitable, he approached you with a condescending look, “Come of your own free will or High Priestess Haggar will come here instead.”

He really didn’t like humans. Small, frail, weak. Emotional. And that bite mark on your neck signifying more than you were aware of? Sendak almost sneered at you. Almost.

You stood up and allowed yourself to be cuffed without a fuss. No word, no flinch, not even bothering to meet his challenging gaze. Your eyes were on the ground, trying to calculate how you could use your words and turn the evidence to be on your side. The side that won’t end up with your corpse launched into the vacuum of deep space. Each step down the hall felt as if you were walking to your own death.

The door opened, but this was no court. That was a medical table, those were physical restraints hanging down from the ceiling, and there, standing under the halo of light, was Haggar. This was the first time you saw her.

“State your name.”

You gave it with a bitter taste on your tongue.

“You are hereby being charged with the complicit assassination of the Emperor of the Galra Empire - Emperor Lotor,” she announced, voice throaty yet evident of her power, “We have recorded evidence that you willingly allowed Emperor Lotor to return to the hands of Voltron alongside with his generals. How do you plead?”

How do you plead? What a loaded question. They already had solid evidence against you. Now they just wanted to hear you say it. Hear you say you were guilty. You let him go. In doing so, you unwittingly forfeited your own safety to the fates of Galra Court. Or rather, whoever was next in charge. Whoever was left after the Empire became fractured in civil war.

You trusted Lotor to return. It has been nearly a year. The odds were stacked against him, against you, that either would be staying alive for long.

“Guilty. I plead guilty.”

Honerva narrowed her eyes into thin slits, critically studying your surrendering form. You gave in without her taking what she needed from your mind. You were compliant, too compliant, and yet this fact alone showed her one thing: you were smart. You knew how their system worked and you knew what unfortunate side you were on. Now, only one thing remained.

The crime must fit the punishment. Victory or death, right?

“You are hereby sentenced to a lifetime in prison without parole.” Haggar glanced at Sendak, “Take the inmate away.”

“I know where Lotor is.”

Lie. She knew it was a lie, indicative by the way the corner of her lips dipped lower in a barely contained snarl. Prisoners would say anything to change the outcome of their fate, and Honerva was not one for mercy - not where her rightful son was concerned And yet, those five little words were the perfect ones to make her raise a hand, halting Commander Sendak.

“I know where the Emperor is.”

The thin paper in your hand felt heavier than anything you’ve ever carried before in your life. Your eyes skimmed over familiar writing - your father's words etched out in dark ink, but not nearly as dark as the shadows growing in the corner of your mind.  Prisoners were becoming soldiers. Ultimatums were set and no matter how much you begged your father to change his mind, begged for him to understand that he was being used, he still made the worst possible choice.

It’s funny, now that you think about it. He once told you that he wanted to be a soldier when he was younger. To make sure there was a future for children, for you. Now, he got his wish. But it shouldn’t be like this, never like this.

The tears blurred your sight before you were able to take a hold of yourself. And how could you? Your father, the only family who saw you as a person instead of a physical investment for others, was walking onto the battlefield as live bait. Helpless couldn’t even begin to describe the fateful situation thrust upon your shoulders and a fleeting thought that karma was out to get you passed through your mind. This was wrong. This was wrong and everyone knew it.

Your grip on the paper crinkled it, nearly tearing it where your fingers dug in. Sobbing, you were sobbing so much, chest constricting as the thoughts of being powerless attacked your mind. It’s a system. There’s a system, maybe you could talk to someone, talk to the higher ups about switching camps? Just don’t panic. Your father will be fine, you can save him still. Maybe there was still time to -

“Doc?”

It was Shiro.

“Doc!”

The sight of you crying, choking on your own tears and leaning on the the wall for support, instantly alerted your captain. He has seen you post breakdown, eyes red-rimmed and composure regained like nothing had happened. But this? This was worse. It was worse seeing you crumble to the ground with teeth gritting, lip quivering, and streaks of painful tears dripping down your face. The stuttering breaths, the whimpering, the breaking. It. Was. Much. Worse.

Shiro rushed to you, arms pulling you in to his chest, “Talk to me.”

You couldn’t.

“Please, say something.”

You didn’t.

“We can get through this.”

You can’t.

All you could do was weep for what was to come.

“I worked alongside Emperor Lotor as his private medical officer for the last four years. From his time as a prisoner in Voltron’s hold up until his disappearance, every injury and sickness I assessed are logged in the medical database at the Galra Headquarters.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I know where he was going.”

Honerva was never one to be impatient. She was calculating, much more than Zarkon ever was. It was how she survived this long, through being poisoned by quintessence, mourning her husband’s death, and withstanding the Empire’s eternal disgust with her. But she also knew when the floor was shrinking around her and soon, her conniving ways would end up with her dead.

She needed allies to find her son and right now? You were as good as any. The witch can torture the information out of you to get what she needed, but logically that wasn’t the most efficient choice. Space was huge, there was a gamble that the your words would lead to a firm dead end, but Honerva was on borrowed time to search for her only child. Limited on necessary resources. Those under her command were spread thin.

“Emperor Lotor managed to pierce the Rift. He succeeded in starting to supply the Empire and the rest of the universe with unlimited quintessence, but there were...complications.” You took a deep breath, “I am already sentenced to a lifetime in prison, but I guarantee you, I’m more useful alive than dying in a cell wall.”

Yes, this seemed almost too perfect to Honerva, but the more the doctor spoke, the more this plan made sense. If - when they find her son, he would no doubt be in critical condition after all this time. Even if he wasn’t, having a medical team attend to him immediately would ensure his survival. Time was wasting, she couldn't assign another druid to read the entirety of Lotor’s medical history when there was someone who already knew it standing right in front of her.

“You will be under Commander Mar’s ward and accompany him on his search for Emperor Lotor,” she approached you then, closer for intimidation, “You are to report any and all information you gain during your mission directly to me. Emperor Lotor must be found.”

Yes, his Empire needed him. The universe needed him to continue working for an era of peace and prosperity. Right now, with the warlords loose and slavery still persisting, you knew all of this would eventually end up in total and complete destruction. You were not excluded from such a fate. Even though you had options, you could run, you could hide, you could corner yourself, but how long until you perish by conflict or by choice?

That is how you found yourself here, standing on the bridge besides Commander Mar. He accepted his mission with honor, accepted your partnership, however temporary it may be. The Commander was no fool, none of the higher-ups were. While some sought power for themselves, the Galra understood power was not only for security, but for survival as well.

He turned to face you, that sullen, empty look reminding him of a tired soldier who fought too long, “Doctor, do we have a heading?”

You stayed silent for a moment before raising your sunken eyes to focus on his scarred expression,   “To the remnants of Daibazaal, Commander Mar. The trans-reality gate is there and that is the last place Voltron was located. That is where Emperor Lotor traveled to.”

He nodded to his subordinate who punched in the coordinates. A few jumps through hyperspace and they would arrive in less than two weeks. Two weeks for you to prepare either the worst or the best outcome. Two weeks for you to plan an escape and flee for your own good. Two weeks…

Before he turned to leave, you asked, “Commander Mar, can I speak to you in private?”

The taller Galra grunted, granting your wish, then led you into the hallway just outside the command center, “What is it, Doctor? You have time to gather supplies we have on the ship, if needed.”

“I appreciate the generosity, Commander. But…” you crossed your arms, “If I may ask, why did you accept this mission?”

“You question my loyalty to the Empire?”

“No, no, not at all. I...apologize for my disrespect.” You glanced to the floor, debating in that mind of yours, “I am not blind. I’m aware of the fractured state the Empire has been in since Lotor’s crowning at the Kral Zera.”

“A human knows of the Kral Zera?”

“While he was working alongside Voltron, yes, Lotor informed me of the Kral Zera.”

His eyes narrowed to slits, “And your team was the one who killed Emperor Zarkon.”

“Yes. Yes, we did. My captain and I gave Lotor the tools needed to take down Zarkon.”

You expected disgust, even fury or an attack, yet all you received was a calculating look from Commander Mar. He had his own thoughts about Voltron working with the Empire and how it was run. At the same time, he had his own grievances when it came to working under Zarkon, as well.

“Voltron has been a smear on the Empire. Now that they have killed not one, but two Emperors, I swear to never align with them again,” there was a certain conviction in his voice, one that held truth with hidden malice, “I am loyal to the Empire and the Empire alone. That is why I took this mission because Lotor is the Emperor. Retrieving his body will bring closure to those in charge and we may finally proceed with another Kral Zera ceremony.”

“And if there is no body? How long will the Empire stand on it’s own two feet? How long until he is officially announced deceased?”

“Five years.”

The Empire did not have five years to last. No leader, no one taking charge until either five years pass or a dead body arrives. The system can only hold as long as the council would allow it, but even that was in shambles. Options were becoming more and more limited. Even after five years, if Lotor comes back, there won't be an Empire for him to run.

“Why did the witch let you live?”

No more. No more standing aside. Lotor made you choose.

“Because I am loyal to the Emperor. And right now, his return means more than just ensuring the future of the Galra Empire. His return ensures the end of war.”

You were tired. Exhausted, like the life was drained out of every pore of your body. You didn’t want to do this anymore. Now, you wonder what drove you to do it in the first place. Be a medic for war. Be a healer. Battle death on a daily basis. Was it for money? For financial security? Or just to prove you were good? Save those who couldn't save themselves? Either way, you couldn’t handle it anymore. Not now. Not for a while or never, if you decide to put the white coat back on again.

“Where will you go?”

Zipping your backpack shut, you placed both hands flat on top of the table. It was the only support you had from collapsing into another painful cry, mourning for the death of your father. No headstone. No body. Hard to find a body when a bomb is dropped. Your eyes drifted up to see Shiro, your captain, your friend, the one who held you so the dark promise of grief didn't get a chance to consume you whole.

“I don’t know.”

“Will you be back?”

“I was discharged. I'm not coming back,” you spoke, emphasizing your dismissal.

“The war is over. Treaties were signed, now we’re just working on bringing soldiers back to their home. Are you sure - “

“Find another medic.”

He paused.

“Find another medic. I’m not doing this - ” your weary voice, once strong and dignified, now whispered, “I can’t do this.

Shiro’s silence spoke volumes, but nothing meant more to you than when he approached you with a soft, understanding gaze. He picked up your bag, the weight more unbearable than he could imagine, before gently handing it to you. And you took it. You took this burden, but he never wanted you to feel like you had to deal with it alone.

“I understand,” he pulled you in for a hug, “Take care of yourself out there. And if you need anything…”

You returned the hug, needing this more than you realized, “I’m sorry, Takashi.”

“Don’t apologize. Never apologize for anything, least of all this. Take your time. You deserve that much.”

You needed time to heal. And before you left through the tent, you turned to look back at  your dearest friend once more.

“Come find me after you’re back.”

“Cease fire! Cease fire! I surrender!”

You huddled behind your shield, barely large enough to defend yourself. Commander Mar was dead, as was most of his crew, and standing across from the battlefield were three people you didn't expect to see again. Three people who left with the Emperor on that fateful day months ago. All of them were equally wounded, exhausted, and still raging with the fiery spirit of battle.

“Zethrid!” Ezor’s pained scream echoed the hangar, gaining her ally’s full attention.

Immediately, the behemoth Galra rushed to her aid, hands out and unsure exactly how to help her friend. There was blood profusely gushing from Ezor’s thigh, entire leg now missing due to the recent battle. Axes were weapons not to be underestimated, a lesson she will ingrain in her mind well if she survived after this. Zethrid snarled as her thoughts became conflicted with worry, with hatred, with the burning will to seek revenge.

“Kill them! Kill them all!” she ordered Acxa, “Do it, now!”

Acxa’s options were limited, too. They always were in the heat of battle. Yes, the three of them managed to take down Commander Mar and his warriors, sans you. She was smart. She knew to leave the medic the last one standing because medics had moral obligations to their crew. You were no Galra doctor, you were human. Humans were susceptible to being compassionate.

“What are you waiting for? We have to get Ezor out of here!”

Take the fleet, hide in the deepest part of the galaxy, find someone who could aid Ezor, but...but she may not have the time. She may not survive. In her critical condition, none of them knew how to properly handle decapitated limbs, and the chances of living after such a fatal blow was already haunting the general. Acxa saw your gaze flicker to their wounded companion then back to her own steely glare.

“I can help her.”

Acxa gripped her gun tighter, barrel pointing directly at you as she pressed the lightest of pressure on the trigger.

“I can save her. You kill me now, she dies. It takes nearly three days to find the nearest planet. She doesn’t even have 30 minutes to live.”

Desperation. Acxa hated feeling desperate. All of them did. Hated leaving the fate of others in the hands of unknown, hated feeling powerless in the face of danger when their friends were concerned. Hated trusting Lotor to protect them and guide them like a good leader. You were on Lotor’s side, but he wasn’t here.

Acxa lowered her gun, signalling her consent for your aid, then you rushed to Ezor’s side while pulling out a syringe. It had an ominous, black liquid in it. You would never consider using this on her, but she was going to die, and the Witigue drug has been proven to bring back those on the brink of death.

You tugged the rope to pull your dingy into port. The wooden pier was nearly desolate of life except the spare few locals. All who initially hesitated at the mere sight of you, but took you in regardless, granting you a place to live among their home. Clear blue waters with equally clear blue skies. It was paradise, the place your father was born, far away from the city life and all it’s deadly toxicity.

No, not really toxic. Just the politics. Just the corruption.

“A fisherman, huh? Never took you for a fishing type.”

At that voice, that one voice you knew so well, your head shot up to see those familiar mirthful grey eyes staring straight at you. And that smirk, that smile that told you everything will be okay, everything is okay. It was infectious, incredibly infectious. You felt your lips and your heart smile at the mere sight of Shiro. He was here, your friend, he was really here.

“Captain - “ “Takashi. Don’t think I forgot that promise.”

You jumped off your boat and stumbled in front of him. His eyes took in all of you, from your humidified hair to your toes fitted in flip-flops. You looked healthy enough if that small laugh after his comment was anything to go by. Not even a second passed before he embraced you in his comforting arms, your own winding around his midsection in a tight hold.

“Takashi! What in blue blazes are you doing here? How did you even - “ you shook your head then took a step back, grinning at him with honest joy splashed over your face, “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

“Thought I’d travel a bit, check in on you. I have to say, you picked a nice place to hide.”

You scoffed at the situational convenience of it all, knowing damn well he used some resource to seek you out. But he wasn’t wrong. This was a nice place to recover and, although you will never fully heal from the scars that the war left behind, you could say your body felt...better. Your mind, however, was a different thing altogether.

“It's a humble life, y’know. Fishing, selling, adapting to a new place. How about you? Where have you been living at now?”

“The Galaxy Garrison called me a year ago and I’ve been working on becoming a space explorer,” he saw the way your eyes lit up at that, “And sometimes I go to local schools to inspire young minds.”

“A space explorer, hm? What do you think you’ll find out there?”

“Honestly? I don't know. Guess I’ll find it when I go up there.”

You two chuckled at that, the familiar conversation refreshing you like time itself hadn’t even passed since the war. He was still Shiro, and you were still...you were still you. He had a good thing going for him and hearing the excitement in his voice when he spoke about it, well, it left you feeling elated for your friend.

“It really is good to see you again, Takashi. How long are you in town? No friend of mine is going to stay in a hotel when he can stay with me in my straw hut.”

Shiro would love nothing more than to stay and catch up on the recovering years. Share thoughts, share pains, share funny stories that happened while both of you were away from each other. But the twinge in his right hand, the tingling feeling in his fingertips, reminded him of the real reason why he was here.

“I’ll take you up on that hut for a few days. I’ve got to head back by the end of the week,” he explained before his expression slowly became solemn, “There’s...there’s something else, too.”

“Something else?” you asked, now your brows were knit in confusion, in wariness, “Something...good, I hope?”

Shiro sighed before pulling his right hand out of his pocket. At first, you saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then, a twitch, followed shortly by a few uneven shakes, like he was shivering. That was all you needed to see before your wide eyes shot up to stare at him dead in the face. He couldn't possibly -

“I knew you’d hate me if I never told you - ” Shiro took a deep breath, steeling his nerves, “ - I’m sick. It’s...incurable.”

You dabbed a cloth over Zethrid’s eye to stop the bleeding and, to your surprise, she didn't even flinch. Her gaze was stuck on Ezor, her stump bandaged and her breathing stable, but she couldn’t bring herself to find a smidgen of relief. Even with you tending to her wounds, there were internal pains that you could not heal. That was out of your skill range. To comfort a victim of survivor’s guilt.

You grabbed a different cloth and soaked it in a blue liquid, squeezing out the excess medicine, ��Keep this over your eye. I can’t save your sight, but this will soothe it and prevent infection until you are fully healed.”

Zethrid obeyed. Still numb, still in shock that you had actually managed to save Ezor. Deciding to leave the room so they could have a moment of silence, you saw Acxa follow you into the hallway. The crew that were still alive were tossed into holding cells and the only people controlling the ship were the three women before you. Acxa watched the way you dried your hands on a towel before you stuffed it back into your pocket.

“Who sent you?” she asked, straightforward and still hesitant on why you were helping them.

You don’t blame her. You would be just as suspicious.

“Haggar. She has sent fleets out in search of Emperor Lotor. I can only assume she wants him back so she can have another puppet to control on the throne.”

And you were not going to let that happen, but there was a sign of confusion flickering behind Acxa’s eyes at your statement. A bit of disbelief, as well. Though, she understands that if she and her generals returned to Haggar, things will not end up well for them. They would be tortured for days on end, or worse, killed. Not a fate she would allow to fall on Ezor and Zethrid.

“Lotor is dead and so is Voltron. Both of them disappeared into the Rift and have not returned after all this time. There is no Emperor anymore.”

“That’s...impossible. Both of them?” you repeated just to make sure the reality of the situation wasn't a lie, “Are you sure? How could you be sure?”

Both of the universe’s defenders were gone? No...no, no, this was worse. This was going to end terribly, not just for you, but for everyone. A thousand scenarios flashed through your head, already thinking about what will happen now. Not just after five years, but the entire future that would be left in ruins.

“We were stranded for a year with no sight of them. They aren’t coming back,” her eyes focused intensely on you, “And I’m not risking our lives by returning to Haggar.”

Ah. The thinly veiled threat.

“We have to find both of them. If not them, then Lotor. Only he could restore the Empire - “

“It is over. Lotor swore to wipe out the entire Galra Empire. All three of us heard it with our own ears,” her expression hardened in betrayal, “Even if he did return by some small miracle, I would not ally with him again. You’re on the wrong side here.”

You ran a hand through your hair, “And what side are you on?”

“Whatever side protects my crew.”

And now, what side were you on?

Part of you argued that there was no happy ending if you returned to Haggar empty handed. Part of you argued that your continued search would be fruitless now that Acxa explained both Lotor and Voltron were finished. And another part...another part of you argued to find another way. Don’t run, there has to be another way, there’s always another way. And if not? You MAKE your own way.

“Acxa,” you interrupted her thoughts, “Do you know where the Alteans are?”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, “You still look to bring him back? He isn’t right for the Empire.”

“Do you or do you not know?”

Silence. After a scrutinizing minute, a single nod.

And that small bit of hope was enough for you to keep trying to find the rightful ruler of the Galra Empire.

“Take me there. Do this, then we can part ways and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Then, Acxa added, “And you never tell Lotor about our survival, if you find him.”

“There was an interesting kid I met today,” Shiro spoke after swallowing his spoonful of cafeteria food.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He stole my car.”

Shiro always had a weird sense of humor, but it was humor nonetheless. You slowly raised a brow at him, of course expecting him to expand a bit on his story now that he had you hooked. Maybe you should have joined him today, just to get a breath of fresh air and see some new, young faces.

“Well?”

“Hm?” he asked, knowing damn well what you were asking.

“Takashi, you wouldn’t even let me drive that thing. It’s your ‘baby’ and you let an actual baby steal it from underneath your nose?”

Now, he laughed out loud, “Listen, I’m impressed he didn’t crash and injure himself.”

“What’s the little thief’s name?”

“Keith. Keith Kogane,” another scoop of food, “If he joins, I’m going to be his guardian.”

A guardian, huh? Fitting, you suppose, for someone like him. Shiro seemed proud, encouraged even, and a little bit of his light shined on you. Even with his illness, he had more moments of happiness than impending doom. You respected that about him. Part of you wondered if you, too, would one day be rid of your own personal grief.

The Galra ship landed on the docking station, kicking up dust and debris from all around. Acxa’s code given to enter the base went through, but you knew that Lotor was one to have at least two means of security. You knew he wouldn’t put all his trust in one person. He always had a back up plan somewhere, somehow, and years of living as an exiled Prince no doubt ingrained that in him.

Three. There were three Alteans who approached you and Acxa when crossing to the entrance of the mountain. Each of them were equipped with a shield much like your own and a broadsword, one you recall Lotor training with long ago. Shields up, weapons prepared, it put Acxa on edge. It put you on edge, so much so that you summoned your own shield for protection.

“Who are you?”

“How did you find this place?” “Where is Lotor?”

You studied each of them, taking in their marks, their hair, their skin. Warriors, defenders. These were the protectors of the base. It...it was a true sight to behold. Lotor succeeded. He achieved in saving Alteans from extinction, something everyone doubted was even possible considering Zarkon’s wickedness. He saved a part of his history, his culture, when no one else could have. 

He succeeded where the Princess failed.

“We do not wish to fight,” you announced, hoping they obeyed the diplomacy first rule, “I - We need your help. Lotor needs your help.”

At Lotor’s name, they immediately lowered their guard as a grave expression fell upon their faces.

“You have news of Lotor’s disappearance?” one of the men asked as he stepped forward, “Where is our leader? Has...Has he been captured?”

The other two murmured under their breath, dreading the worst. Of course they knew about the Galra Empire. Of course they knew of Zarkon. Of course they knew of the exiled Prince. And of course they knew the danger he was in, they all were in. If their leader was caught, then they would do what they must to ensure his survival. They were not idiots sitting around with twiddling thumbs. 

They know damn well about the war.

Now, your lowered the shield completely, your own face grim at the news you were about to share, “Lotor is missing. I need your help finding him.”

“Captain, how do we know they are not spies? I’ve never seen that one with Lotor before,” the other soldier asked, hinting at Acxa.

“We are not spies. I am a medic that aided in healing Lotor and she is - “ you paused, unsure of the actual relationship between Acxa and Lotor, “She was part of his...crew. What can I do to prove it to you?”

The leader of the trio’s stare bore into your shield. The shape of it was the same and the stance you held was similar to their own. Their battle culture was once lost to time, generations of hiding and fleeing reduced their numbers, and the knowledge was wiped out. Lotor was the one who retaught it to them. Only Lotor knew about them.

“If you aren’t a spy, then you will need to prove it through combat.”

There was a soft knock at your door, followed by a “Hey, it’s me.”

“Me” being Shiro. Of course you let him in your room. It was impeccably clean and equally as bland save for one memento. A picture: old, wrinkled, the edges torn and frayed—showing how long it has stood against the test of time. It was you and Shiro in your old military outfits. Typical soldier uniform for him and a white medic coat for you. Dirtied cheeks and tired eyes, but both of you were smiling. Hopeful for the future.

“Ready for tomorrow’s launch?”

“Are you?”

“Waited all my life for this moment,” he sat on the edge of your bed, elbows on his knees and hands entwined with each other, “I wanted to thank you...again. For coming with us. For all this.”

“You know, the more I thought about it, the more I’m surprised I am even...here. It’s hard to believe, actually. I’m a pilot. I’m back to being a medic. I’m healing and I think...I think that’s what my father would’ve wanted for me in life.”

Shiro raised his eyebrows, surprised to hear you even mention your father after all these years of avoiding the topic. He was careful to talk about your deceased dad, even more so when your mother was involved. You never told him about her and he never pushed to know. To hear you open up, well, it...shocked him. He always hoped to be a good influence to you, a good partner, a good friend.

“I should be the one thanking you, Takashi.”

Oh, he was humbled. You gave him a honest smile, one full of fondness and appreciation. Grateful that he stuck around and helped you start walking again, step by step. Where would you be without him? Fishing, living a humble life, never returning to heal the wounded. Takashi showed you that there was something better out there for you. All you had to do was see it.

“What do you think will be up there?” you gazed out the window, night stars twinkling promises of a new future for you.

“I don’t know - ” Shiro’s eyes reflected the midnight sky, “but it’s going to be amazing.”