In the Aftermath

By Kim Smuga-Otto

Since waiting six months to find out what the heck happens in season 3 (Shiro's disappearance, a new Paladin, Lotar's introduction, Hagger's ancestry, and the source of Keith's Galra genes) I thought writing my version would help satiate some of the hunger for the next series. This is "Episode 1" with multiple chapters. I'm trying to keep to the spirit of the series – an all ages, fast-paced mix of action and humor – with a bit of fanfiction silliness occasionally making its way in.

This story uses elements introduced in my other fanfics "Red Cub" and "Journey" but they aren't required to understand what's going on.

3/4/17 - I've changed the name of my story from "Aftermath" to "in the Aftermath" because there is already an actively updating story by that name (also set directly after season 2) Sorry for the confusion, this will teach me to do a title search first.

Chapter 1 – Gone

The cockpit was empty.

They all piled in, looking through the space as if expecting Shiro to just be tucked under a console. It made no sense.

Surreal, thought Lance, that was the word. He was standing in the Black Lion and Shiro was gone, but part of his mind was still high on endorphins from kicking Zarkon's butt, dealing the death blow to a 10,000-year-old evil empire and making it out by the skin of their teeth, once again. In that part of his brain, Shiro could be injured, sure, but he couldn't be … gone. Lance stood there, desperate for someone to say something that would fix it and make everything all right again. The silence was deafening.

Hunk spoke first, his voice uncertain, "Pidge, when you guys retrieved the Black Lion, did you look around to make sure Shiro wasn't, umm, floating around in space or something?"

"What, you think the Black Lion spat him out?" Pidge snapped back. Then, a little less certainly, she asked Lance, "There aren't any holes on your side, are there?"

"Not even a scratch." He reached out and touched the Bayard, inserted in its active position. He could swear the metal handle still felt warm.

"Allura?" Pidge turned to the princess, but she simply shook her head. Her eyes had an unfocused look. The uncomfortable silence fell again, and Lance wondered if everyone, just like him, was caught up in that weird in-between space.

"Ayeee!" It was Slav, looking up at them, his serpentine body forming a question mark, "I was afraid this would happen."

"What?" asked Lance, "you're saying you knew Shiro would disappear?"

"I said, afraid," replied Slav, speaking slowly as if to deaf grandmother, "It was one of a multitude of things that kept me up last night." He started counting on his many fingers, "I was afraid that the gravity well would fold the teladev like a piece of origami. Afraid the Blade of Marmora was an elaborate covert operation to trap us. Afraid the Black Lion would return to Zarkon. Afraid the Galra would have had the sense to install a backup power generator. Afraid the Orikavi had contracted out to the lowest bidder. Afraid the Paladins would get into an argument and be unable to form Voltron. Afraid we'd arrive at the chosen star system to find it overrun by star Gerrybills. Afraid I'd wake up dead – that's a recurring one. And those were only the probabilities that were greater than 1 percent."

"So you're saying there was a greater than 1 percent chance of one of us disappearing from our cockpits?" asked Pidge. She looked to Lance like she was running a calculation in her head.

"No," Slav always looked offended when people didn't understand what he was saying, or maybe that was just the way his beak was shaped, "the chances of that were 0.027 percent! And that makes it all the worse, it's those minuscule probabilities you really need to worry about. There are so many things that are as good as theoretically impossible that it increases your chances that at least one of them will happen."

"But how could Shiro have simply vanished from inside?" asked Allura, "could it have been the witch Haggar's magic?"

Slav shrugged two sets of shoulders, "Or the lions. You realize these are no mere machines. They were crafted by an ancient, and now vanished, race, the Seltevians, whose level of technology has never been matched since. In my studies, I would come across references to the lions and puzzled over their rumored abilities and achievements. But in this reality at least, they are even more strange and unexplainable."

"How do we bring him back?" It was the first time Keith had spoken since asking the Black Lion to open the cockpit when they entered.

"Well, I don't know if we even can," stammered Slav as Keith walked down the ramp towards him, "I don't know the probabilities for where he might have gone."

"Then. Go. Figure. It. Out." With each word, Slav kept bending backwards until he resembled one of those hot air stick people outside of car washes. His beak opened and closed, but no sound emerged and his eyes shifted towards Keith's hand, which seemed uncomfortably close to his Bayard.

"This will require quite a bit of math," he said at last, "The kind that's mostly letters and at least eight types of infinities."

"Fine, get to it." Keith's voice was even flatter than usual. Slav nodded, then dashed away.

"OMG," said Pidge, "Shiro would have so loved to see…" her voice trailed off and she glanced furtively at Keith.

He didn't seem to notice. The tension had drained out of him, his normal emo slouch back, and he just looked tired. "Coran," he asked, "if Kolivan gave you the Galra's security codes, could you scan their frequencies to see if there's anything about a captured Paladin?"

"I think we could."

"Then maybe Pidge could help you and the rest –" He stopped himself and turned to Allura, "Princess, we've got to find him. Tell us what to do."

That's odd, thought Lance, Keith holding his tongue considering all the times he gave his unsolicited opinion. Allura seemed taken aback as well, but not in her recent ignore-the-part-Galra-human-in-the-room routine. She gave Keith a glance that Lance would have preferred be shorter, and turned to face them all.

"I think scanning for signals should be a top priority. Not just for Shiro, but also to find out the fate of Zarkon, and the state of the Galra empire. We also need to begin on repairs. Our ship sustained significant damage to its engines, shields, navigation and heaven knows what else, making us extremely vulnerable. But before we disperse …"

She looked around the room, taking them all in. "We need to take a moment to, I won't say to savor, but to acknowledge that we accomplished a great thing today. We succeeded in our mission. Several times Zarkon and Haggar came very close to destroying us, but we pulled together, we supported each other, and together, we were stronger than them. But it wasn't without sacrifice. Shiro is missing and our new allies, Antok and Thrace, died fighting. We all entered the battle willing to lay down our lives, but that won't make the losses of our comrades any easier. We will remember and honor Antok and Thrace. And we will find Shiro and bring him home."

Normally, Lance just regarded the princess as a kickass, space babe extraordinaire. But listening to her now, Lance was convinced she was a goddess. And if that slightly awed look on Keith's face meant he was thinking the same, well, Lance was sure he'd thought it first.

It was nice having space mice for confidants. They were always there to listen, never interrupted, and could keep a secret. And after the battle, Shiro's disappearance, and the frenzied activity of the past few hours, Allura needed to let her guard down a bit.

"Well," she told them when they were alone again on the bridge, "We defeated Zarkon and probably saved the universe." The mice squeaked and did a happy dance, complete with confetti. "But the black paladin has vanished. He kept us safe and without him, I feel so uncertain."

"Squeak?"

"There are things I've learned about the Galra, about the Alteans, and about myself that are at odds with the truths I've long held dear. I wish Shiro was here so I could talk to him, I know he'd help me make sense of it. Oh, what are we going to do without him?"

"Squeak, squeak."

"Yes, that was Shiro's plan, but I'm not sure how to bring it up with the others. And it still leaves us short one Paladin."

"Squeak, squeeee eek, eek, squeak?"

"I'm honored, what a lovely sentiment."

Behind her, someone loudly cleared their throat. She turned to see Commander Kolivan, looking much the same as when she saw him watching them in the hangar.

"Princess Allura," he gave a small bow, "earlier, I overheard you speaking with the Paladins. I wanted to thank you for your gracious words on behalf of the Blade's fallen members."

"Antok and Thrace gave their life fighting alongside us. They were brave and noble warriors. It was only just that I honor them."

"There are many who have suffered under the Galra who might have chosen to do otherwise."

And I would have been one of them, if we could have defeated Zarkon without you, thought Allura. She still had her reservations about the Blade of Marmora's motives, 10,000 years seemed a very long time for an opposition group to stay secret. But they had proven themselves through their actions and sacrifices. Through her mental connection with the mice she received an image of the Red Paladin, but she ignored it.

"Commander Kolivan, speaking of Galra past actions, could you tell me what happened to my people? Coran and I know the Altean solar system is gone, but we know nothing else."

"I am not a historian, Princess. The destruction of Altea took place long ago. However, I was taught that a device was planted in the Altean sun, causing it to turn supernova and engulf the system. I am sorry."

She had suspected as much, but the image of all beautiful places on her planet and its people being incinerated was painful. But there must be more to the story.

"The Alteans had close diplomatic ties with various races. Could it be possible a small group managed to survive?" The unhooded Haggar and her telltale ears came to Allura's mind. It was possible, if some of her people had survived, that she wouldn't want to know them.

"Many things are possible in the universe. But I have never heard of any remaining Alteans, either as prisoner or rebels. Zarkon keeps a list of enemies, a very long list. But the only Alteans on it are your late father, your second-in-command, and yourself. There is …" Allura waited. Kolivan continued, "This is some information that the Blade recently received. A source has confirmed that Zarkon's son, Prince Lotor is alive."

"What? But how can he be alive, after 10,000 years?"

"That I do not know, Princess. But there was a rumor I heard as a child, more of a legend really, that Zarkon planned to make Prince Lotor the Paladin of the Red Lion. But, unable to find the other lions, he sealed both lion and son away until all the lions were found."

"But …" Allura's mind reeled. Could Lotor have been put into suspended animation as she and Coran had been? And how long had the Galra been in possession of the Red Lion?

"As I said, it was only a legend. Now, Princess, there was another reason I sought you out. It is critical that I take leave of your castle and return to our headquarters. The Blade of Marmora has long planned for Zarkon's defeat, and are prepared to strike while the Empire is in disarray. We must not miss this window of opportunity."

"Of course, you must return then," it made sense, and yet she was uncomfortable with yielding control of the offensive to the Blade. "I thank you and your order again for your help. We stand ready to return the favor."

"We are grateful." Kolivan seemed less than completely genuine, but perhaps she was projecting, "But until you have all five Paladins, perhaps it's best that the power of Voltron stays hidden in the shadows. We will, of course, contact you should we hear anything about your missing Paladin."

Allura, with her diplomatic training, could sense the danger in this, but as Kolivan pointed out, it wouldn't be wise to advertise that they couldn't form Voltron. So she let Kolivan's comments go uncontested. Besides, if his source was correct, she had larger concerns.

After he had left, she turned to the mice, "Could he truly be alive? The chances … but if he is, if Zarkon made him a prince, then what sort of person is he now?"

"Squeak, squeak."

"Yes, you may be right. I shouldn't tell anyone, not yet."

Coran said he'd be along shortly to go over the ship's various engineering systems, so Hunk was hanging out by his lion, waiting. He could have been off cooking, but that somehow felt too normal. And right now, things weren't normal. Everyone else was off doing serious stuff because down time would mean having to deal with Shiro being gone.

Not that he was dead, but every time Hunk tried to think about the empty cockpit, he felt the same ache as when his Uncle Louis had died from a heart attack.

It had been sudden, as in one hour earlier everyone was organizing for a potluck dinner at his grandmother's house and then all the text messages changed from who was bringing extra foldable tables and how many crock pots there were going to be, to who was driving Aunt Jen to the hospital, who was looking after his Tad and baby Elise, who was going to call Louis's mother in California to tell her son was on a respirator and that they hadn't been able to get his heart to beat for over an hour, who was going to contact the funeral home and set up the Spacebook announcement. Everyone had thrown themselves into helping out, being useful. Because focusing on logistics meant you didn't have to think about never seeing him, never hugging him, never again hearing his corny jokes or bad impersonations.

Hunk could sense the dull pain creeping in, that would grip you hard whenever you stopped doing something useful. As long as he held it off, Shiro wouldn't really be gone. Soon he'd head down to Engineering with Coran, but until then he searched through Yellow's diagnosis logs to confirm she hadn't sustained any critical damage.

"Nothing wrong with a little check-up, right girl?" he asked as his lion powered up, the machine hum sounding a bit like a purr. Pidge had showed him how to plug into the lion's control system with the Altean popup displays, but Hunk liked the lion's control system's retro aesthetic and layout.

He climbed in through her mouth and made himself comfortable in the chair. As he suspected, Yellow hadn't taken much damage. She was the sturdiest of all of them with some sort of extra shielding running through her armor that acted a bit like the castle's barrier system. Whatever it was, it used a good deal of power.

"Good thing you guys don't burn gasoline," he said, "otherwise half the castle would have to be filled with fuel." Coran had said something about the lions pulling quintessence or cosmic energy from the universe itself which wasn't the most technical of explanations, but it seemed to fit the observed facts.

Hunk pulled up a schematic of the energy use during their battle. There were small spikes early on and then a massive surge as they formed Voltron. It crashed down to nothing when they were hit by that black ball of magic. But just before that, there was another massive energy surge, bigger than any he had previously seen.

No, wait. He checked the time stamps. The surge happened just after they were hit. And then it flat-lined. It wasn't so much that the quintessence was ripped out, more like a calculated shutting down of some tap, and then the lion's energy reserves just drained out.

Slav had said the lions were magic. Hunk had always known they were sentient, made from technology even more amazing than what was used in the ship, somehow mentally linked to the Paladins, so them being magical wasn't much of a leap of faith. Hunk replayed the energy sequence and wondered what precisely quintessence was. He should ask Slav about it sometime.

When he heard Kolivan's request for a launch, Keith had rushed to the hanger. He arrived just as the Galra had completed loading his shuttle. As the last bag was stowed, Kolivan turned to Keith and said simply:

"I am sorry not to have formally said goodbye, but there are urgent matters that I need to attend to. The battle we've won is just the most recent in the war." He was as dismissive as when Keith and Shiro arrived at the Blade's headquarters.

"I need to talk to you," said Keith. He didn't phrase it as a request.

"You wish to find your family," stated Kolivan. Keith almost said yes, but he couldn't think of purple skinned, pupil-less aliens as family. He was torn between his desire to know his past, and his certainty that given a choice between human and Galra, even the members of the Blade of Marmora, he would choose human.

Keith found himself using the words Allura had spoken to him before his mission to shut down the fortress, "The paladins and crew aboard this ship are my family now."

Did Kolivan's emotionless mask slip slightly? "I'm sure Slav will be overjoyed," he deadpanned.

"I want to know how I got this blade," said Keith.

"Each blade is earned upon entrance to the Blade, and no member parts with it until death. The blade is usually cremated with the owner. But in your case, it appears that the blade was passed down as inheritance."

"Then who did it belong to? I want to know if I have relatives amongst the Galra." Keith unsheathed the blade and passed it to Kolivan.

Kolivan barely glanced at it before handing it back. "Our blades bear no identification marks for a reason. It is unlikely that any of my order would be able to recognize it."

"But," Keith pressed on, "the owner of this blade somehow made it to Earth. Does the Blade keep mission records? Perhaps one of your people was sent to Earth, a warrior who could have been my grandfather, or mother-"

"Our society has remained hidden for so long because we don't leave traces to be found," there was a harshness to Kolivan's voice. "Members operate in cells and even if there was information about a mission to your planet, the details of who went and what they did wouldn't be included. Or, the owner might have been embedded within an official military mission. Zarkon never stopped looking for the lions. But given that the Blue lion remained undetected, such a mission must have been unsuccessful." That was a dismissal, an end to the conversation.

Kolivan made to enter his ship, but Keith stepped in front of him. He didn't trust himself to speak, he'd tried that at their base station and it had got him nowhere. The Blade did not volunteer information.

Kolivan may have sensed his determination, or simply have decided that talking would be faster.

"You shouldn't think yourself unique, or even uncommon. As a result of the Galra's conquests and occupations, mix breeds like yourself are found on thousands of worlds. A few half-breeds, those who take strongly after their fathers, have joined the Galra ranks. However, the majority are never acknowledged by their sires; the offspring is rarely a source of pride for either parent's race. I say this to caution you, your Galra heritage will not forge any bonds."

"I have no desire to identify with a race that has committed such atrocities." Keith snarled.

"Still," Kolivan continued as if he hadn't heard, "you are a Paladin of Voltron and your act of bravery, however naïve and foolish I thought it at the time, was critical to the mission's success. For that reason, I will tell you, not what I know, but what I speculate of your ancestry."

"Your ability to interface with Galra technology means you must be no less than one-eighth Galra, and I think it most likely that you are a quarter, or possibly, despite your human phenotype, half, Galra."

"Then, my grandfather, or my mother-"

"Not your mother, it would have to be a male relation. A Galra female would never have been part of such a mission, and even in the unlikely possibility, wouldn't have carried a Blade. Galra women are not warriors, and there has never been one in our order.

Keith though for a moment, in all the Galra ships he had infiltrated, he'd only seen male Galra. The only female had been Haggar.

"Are your women … part of the Komar?" he asked. Kolivan looked like he had swallowed something vile.

"Haggar and her druids are outcasts, only tolerated because of Zarkon's favor. The druids would never be entrusted with a Galra female." Outside of battle, this was as intense as Keith had seen a Galra, "Our women are protected, from the war and from corruption. They reside in separate colonies and the genders do no comingle as yours' and other races' do. In all my years, I have only seen Galra women twice, and then only as part of a formal ceremony."

Kolivan slipped past Keith. Just before the airlock closed, he said, "Should you wish to know more about our culture, I'm sure there are some records in the castle library." Keith needed to step back quickly as the shuttle taxied to the airlock.

He glanced down at his knife. He could just get rid of it. Be done with the Blade and his Galra heritage. Allura and his teammates would understand if he just wanted to go back to being human. But his knife wasn't a connection to the Galra, it was a connection to an individual, his grandfather or great grandfather, and Keith was determined to find out his story.

If only Shiro were here. If only.

The weight of the loss hit him again, just as hard as when they opened the cockpit. Where was Shiro? He wasn't dead, couldn't be dead. But without any clues to what had happened, Keith felt so useless.

He walked through the hangar to where the Black Lion sat, inert. She was still down, either recharging or in some self-repair trance. Her barrier was down at least, meaning she was expecting Shiro or …

"Keith, if something happens to me, I want you to pilot the Black Lion and lead the team." Twice Shiro had spoken those words and twice Keith had refused. Shiro hadn't accepted Keith's answer, and now there was no one to reply to.

Keith looked up at the Black Lion's face. There wasn't any power behind her white eyes, but something about the way the shadows fell gave them a sort of life. Like she was expecting something.

"I'm not piloting you again," he said, "that was just a one-time emergency thing.

"You've flown her?" It was Pidge. She was poking her head around one of the lion's legs. If she'd had her floating monitor things up he would have seen the light.

"Not flown," he and Shiro had purposely kept that out of their report, "just sat in her while she pounced. It was to save Shiro, that's why she let me in."

"If you flew her now, it would be to save Shiro."

Sometimes the best defense was simply not to engage.

"What are you doing here?" Keith asked.

"Waiting for you," she said, "I set an alert for when you entered any of hangars."

"Why?"

"To keep you from doing something rash and stupid, like last time."

"Last time?" was she referring to the time he and Allura ran away?

"At Galaxy Garrison, after the Kerberos mission was lost. I hacked into your records, I know why you got kicked out."