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2021-09-21
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2022-03-21
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16/16
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Voltron: Paladins of the Galaxy

Chapter 16: Bonus. Voltron: The New Generation. The Worthy Successors

Summary:

When one story ends, another begins. And the new generation has very good potential.

Chapter Text

Morvok heavily climbed out of the single-seater shuttle, took off his helmet, shaking his graying ears, and stunned. “Even so.”

The Galra strode to the exit of the hangar, the airlock doors were closed, and a huge Christmas wreath adorned above them. Morvok examined the surface of the door and pressed the only button. Bells rang. Morvok smirked; Coran had prepared thoroughly.

The Galra shifted from foot to foot, weary enough to wait, when the airlock whirred, the revived hydraulics slowly began to work, opening the door.

“Finally, I was freezing, by the way.”

“We weren't expecting anyone.” The disheveled advisor's head poked out.

“Not even Santa.”

“You're not Santa.”

“How rude. I came to wish you a happy holiday on such a day–”

“Right, the holy one for Galra.”

A petard popped out over Coran's ear and exploded, showering him and Morvok with colorful confetti. Coran recoiled, clutching his chest. Romelle laughed merrily.

Morvok rubbed his ear. “How can Sendak put up with you? Great, now I'm deaf.” He glanced at Coran. “And he looks like he's having a heart attack.”

Morvok climbed through the airlock, pushing the dazed advisor aside, and, without waiting for an invitation, walked through the hallway, decorated with garlands, fir twigs and snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. The Galra sucked in the air with his nose. The tempting cocktail of various delicacies beckoned. Merry Christmas carols and noisy holiday hubbub came from the depths of the ship.

“Why are you coming? Look at him, he's dressed up.” Coran, who had already come to his senses a little bit, stopped, putting his hands to his sides and pointing at the furry alien, who was gloomily walking down the hallway with a tinsel scarf wrapped around his neck.

“Ha-ha, I live here.” The shaggy guy strode past.

“So go to your room.”

“Christmas is a family holiday!” shouted the shaggy guy, heading not to his room at all.

“When it's Christmas, we're family! But when it's a repair, you're on your own!” Coran shouted after him, but the shaggy guy had already disappeared into the kitchen.

 

The feast was in full swing and had entered the stage of lazy conversation. The guests ate their fill, occasionally cramming in another dish and drinking wine. Lance swayed lazily in his chair, watching the others. How he loved this phase of the get-togethers, when everything became so cozy, so homey. When all the angles of communication are smoothed out, and the revelers understand each other. Even Shiro doesn't mind the presence of Slav, Coran, and that furry guy – I still haven't asked his name. And that's despite the fact that Slav has become more and more insufferable over the years. Lance rested his head on the shoulder of Keith, who patted him on the knee without distracting from the conversation.

“Come on.” Morvok laughed, pulling closer to Keith. “Really?”

“Yeah, I swear. Ask Thace. That Alex tied tin cans to Antok's tail and then that little rascal hid under the table. And Antok,” Keith leaned back in his chair, mimicking serious Antok; disturbed Lance moved away from him, “gets up from the table and starts rattling. The whole council is in an uproar. Antok doesn't understand what's going on. And starts spinning on the spot, like a yupper.”

Lance smiled and took a sip of wine. Morvok trilled with laughter. Keith was pleased. Oh, those war stories. Lance boredly shifted his gaze from the table, which still hadn't emptied, to the guests. Sendak was still munching the salads as appetizingly as at the start of the meal, occasionally nodding at Romelle's incessant chatter. And Hunk was pouring wine for him and himself.

Pidge laughed falsely, cutting into the conversation. Lance turned around. She leaned on his chair and tilted her head toward Keith.

“Keeeith, you're going to love this. I specially brought it from Earth. It's a picture Alex drew when he was four.” Pidge slipped the paper to the man. “He made a picture of his dad. Here's Hunk drowning.”

Keith furrowed his brow. “Huh. But he won't drown. It takes a load.”

Pidge poked her finger. “He added it. Here.”

“Awesome.” Keith laughed.

Lance glanced at the crumpled sheet of paper with the child's crooked drawing and turned his head in the other direction, where Matt and Shiro were talking in raised voices. And when had they managed to quarrel? Just a minute ago, they'd been sitting in each other's arms like lovebirds.

“Shiro, where are you going?”

“I'm going to war. They summoned me.”

“Yeah, in the middle of the night. To fight some of the Feyiv hookers. He also dressed up to make the legend work. Drunken warrior! Take off your armor and go make crafts with the kid.”

“What crafts?”

“Hedgehogs from chestnuts, men from acorns, bears from cones.”

“The kids are fifteen, fourteen and eleven. What crafts?”

“What war? No one called you. You had a fight with Slav, didn't you?”

“No. Matt, do you want them to ask me tomorrow, ‘Shiro, why didn't you come?’ and I'm like, ‘Because of the hedgehogs’?”

“Shiiirooo,” Slav drawled and hiccupped. “Shiro, you know that ‘owl’ rhymes with ‘soul’. That means I'm your mascot.”

“Duh,” Shiro growled out, taking a seat at the table next to Matt. “Maybe it rhymes, but what a colossal difference.”

Lance shook his head, taking another sip of wine. Opposite the table, by the wall, Coran sprawled out in an armchair, totally like an old man, and, smiling at his thoughts, watched the younger generation. The boys have grown up, but they still sit together by the tree, separating themselves from the adults. Elvis has become quite like Lotor, only his skin is paler. This must have been what the last Emperor looked like at such a tender age. Graceful and majestic. Lance looked away as Elvis trembled, sensing, and turned around. The smile remained playing on his thin lips, his long lashes flew up, revealing the deep blue of his lustrous eyes, an unruly Lotor-like strand of hair fell over his face, and Lance's heart ached. He took a large sip of wine and squinted at Keith, who continued to tell war jokes with Morvok. Elvis returned to the conversation with his coevals, turning away. Lance noted to himself that the boy had matured, was broader in the shoulders, and, Lance smirked, was putting his hair in a ponytail like Keith, no matter what Matt thought. You can see to the naked eye that the boy is copying his adored Keith. Shiro says the kid is very successful at his academy. Like Keith, only more disciplined. Unlike Alex. Not a day goes by without some pissed-off teacher dragging him to the principal's office. It's funny how Pidge and Hunk's son is a carbon copy of Matt. Same honey eyes, same foxy, only unlike his uncle he likes short and aggressive haircuts. It's unclear who he takes after so bold. Because of boredom, or a rebellious spirit, which was added in him too much, but making trouble for people around him is his forte. Shiro says he outdid Keith. Skylar didn't go to the academy, refusing to follow in Shiro's footsteps. He's a total nerd. Though he looks just like his father, such a nerd version of Shiro. He is a skinny boy from the anime, cold and unapproachable. With black eyes, the same coal hair, often disheveled, and an ironic half-smirk, as if the boy is always mocking the world.

“Tell me, Lance–” Slav pulled back a chair beside the man.

“No, no, no, Slav.” Lance jumped up, looking around, and took the confused Pidge by the elbow and led her out into the hallway. “We're having an important conversation. And you…” Lance pondered, choosing a victim for Slav, but it seemed that over the course of the evening, the scientist had already talked to everyone. “Oh, check on the kids. Share your experience.”

Slav furrowed his brow, seeing the pair off, and suspiciously turned to the youngsters.

 

“We're losing him.” Skylar gave a snort, elbowing Alex. He pointed with his chin at Elvis, who, with his head slightly tilted to the side, was fascinated by the twinkling of Christmas lights reflected in the glittering balls. The flashing lights illuminated the spruce branches in red, blue, yellow, green, and then plunged them into darkness again. And got lost like bright glints in Elvis's fathomless eyes.

Alex shook his head, banishing the obsession. “Hey, Earth to Elvis.”

“What?” The boy turned his head.

“You're being kidnapped by a Christmas spirit.” Alex smirked. “Hey, forget it.” He sighed. “Why can't you ever take a joke?”

“Because your jokes are dumb.” Skylar lay on his side, leaning on his elbow.

“My jokes are dumb? I'm not dumb. You haven't heard Hunk's jokes.”

Alex wrinkled his nose and snorted, watching his dad pour wine into Sendak's glass while the Galra nods, twitching his bat-like ears funny.

“Huh, and you have his genes.” Skylar stretched out each word.

“That's the nastiest thing.” Alex grimaced. “No, I take after Holts. Right.”

“It's obvious.” Slav sat down next to them, putting his hands on both boys' shoulders. “You're both take after Holts. I can see it with the naked eye.”

“Because we're smart?” Skylar got up.

“No, the temper is nasty. On both of you. Elvis is a sweetheart. But you're difficult.”

“Huh.” Elvis stuck his tongue out at Skylar.

“But I'm not adopted.” The boy snorted.

“Hey!” Elvis pouted.

“Yeah, our parents picked you up. In the joint. Smugglers threw you away there.”

Elvis flashed his eyes and turned away to the tree.

“Either he's tactful or he's stupid.” Slav noisily stood up. “Lotor would have found something to say.” Slav strode to the table, continuing to speculate aloud about Lotor's advantages over the new talentless generation. “What about Lotor? Shiro will give you a head start!” the scientist shouted, squeezing into a chair at the table. “And he's not too bright, believe me.”

“Elvis.” Alex touched the boy on the shoulder. “I think it's time to punish the owl. Huh?” He put his arm around his cousin's shoulders. “Insulting the Prince, that's…” Alex winked at Skylar. “He was out of line.”

Elvis turned on him, smiling, exposing his Galra fangs.

Alex opened his eyes wide; his heart skipped a beat. “Hey, buddy, what's up with you?”

Petals of Altean marks flashed across Elvis's face.

“Okay, guys.” Skylar hugged the two boys, whispering conspiratorially. “I googled it. A nasty owl can be fixed.”

“How?” Alex turned around, no one paying attention to them. He pulled his face closer to Skylar. “Speak.”

“With love and care.”

“Ew.” Alex grimaced. “You better ask how to knock out an owl.”

“I did it.” Skylar smiled. “An owl can be knocked out by a stump.”

“It's a strange logic.” Alex scratched his chin. “Effective one, I'll give you that. Does it mean that a penguin can be knocked out by an icicle?”

“I guess so.” Skylar laughed.

“An icicle?” Elvis turned his face toward Alex, a white strand of hair fell over his eyes. The boy's breath burned Alex's cheek. “Where should it be put?”

“How interesting you are, Elvis.” Alex quickly took hold of himself.

Elvis got embarrassed, blushing.

“Anyway, guys. Let's wait till everyone's asleep.” Alex stretched his lips in a smile and winked at Elvis. The boy turned away, hiding the flashed Altean marks.

 

Coran dreamt of Altea. He was walking through the blooming fields, breathing in the fresh air with a hint of the heady scent of juniberries. Suddenly the sky darkened around him, like before a thunderstorm that happens only on Terra. Coran turned around. The ground beneath his feet was shaking, and on the horizon, a herd of yuppers was running in a cloud of dust. The advisor jumped up. A dream. But the rumbling sound was real. He hurriedly pulled on his pants and got into his already tight camisole. Kicking away his boots, Coran shoved his feet into the slippers and dashed out into the hallway, bumping into Morvok, who was hooting after Hunk. The Paladin sprinted across the hallway, hitting corners, knocking over side tables and moving the carpet strips.

“What the…?” Coran peeked out and immediately hid in his bedroom.

Sendak raced after Hunk like a furious bull. Morvok let him pass and happily joined him, strangely keeping up, having such short legs in the arsenal. Coran clumsily ran after this procession.

“Hunk really likes sex,” squealed Morvok, singing. “Even more than fried eggs. Hunk wanted to do it quick – came to Romelle and stick his d…”

“Oh.” Keith's disheveled head poked out of the room. “Should we save him?”

“Save your strength.” Lance yawned. “Hunk's a diplomat; he'll have to make a deal. Though there's nothing we can do for Hunk if Pidge hears Morvok.”

The chase raced through the Castle, waking everyone up. Hunk, pretty out of breath, but apparently still not daring to negotiate, didn't stop running, mentally thanking Shiro for the trainings. It came in handy. Still, I need to hide somewhere. To outsmart. How?! Panic. Calm down, Hunk. The man rushed through the living room again, turning into the kids' room. Well, Sendak won't start a slaughter here. He turned and went tumbling, stumbling over a log.

“What is that log?!” Hunk yelled, still flying across the room, flipping the bed.

The log mumbled and, with the lights turned on by Coran, turned out to be Slav. The scientist was lying exactly at the crack of the rooms, and, for the sake of convincing, the floor had “CRACK” written with colored chalk on it. He was wrapped in duct tape like a chrysalis, with the same duct tape glued to the floor and the same duct tape on his beak. On his feet was a stump, wrapped with, it's not hard to guess what. Right, duct tape. Slav was mumbling and pitifully looking at the entrants. The three adorably innocent boys with the most naive faces possible stood modestly against the wall. And Skylar was diligently hiding his chalk-stained hands behind his back.

“What is this?” Coran clutched his heart and pointed to the crack with his hand. The three boys froze. Skylar's eyes widened in surprise, as if he'd never seen it before. “Why did you do that?”

Slav thankfully looked at the advisor, pitifully blinking.

“What is that stump? Where did you get it?” Coran shook his head sadly. “I know, I know where. In the greenhouse. You monsters! Barbarians! The last apple tree!”

Coran pushed the assembled crowd aside and disappeared into the hallway.

Alex shrugged. “Why the last one? There's a shitload of them on Earth.”

Keith stepped over Slav. “Why did you do that? Although Shiro will be delighted, of course.”

Lance squatted down, trying to unwind the scientist. “Tough. Why the log?”

“It's a stump.” Skylar lifted his chin. “An owl can be knocked out by a stump.”

“Anyone can be knocked out by a stump.” Keith watched Lance's unsuccessful attempts to free Slav.

“And how does that contradict it?” Skylar raised a defiant look at him. Alex suppressed a chuckle.

Hunk remained seated against the wall, in the shelter of the overturned bed. Sendak continued to glare at him, but still calmed down and decided to postpone the fight until later.

“Alex.” Pidge stood, accompanied by the snitching Coran. “What kind of mischief is that? No, it's bullying. Why did you hurt Uncle Coran's feelings? He was so kind, and you… Cutting down an apple tree and putting it in its place so mockingly.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Alex leaned closer to Elvis, mimicking his mother.

“Alex! What do I have to do with you? Alex!” Pidge turned around. “Where's Hunk?”

“Who deleted the onboard computer?” Shiro squeezed into the room. And Alex swallowed, a little scared. “Why had the onboard computer crashed?”

“Maybe it got a Trojan?” Alex mumbled.

Shiro furrowed his brow suspiciously and lowered his gaze to Slav. “Oh, someone couldn't take it anymore, huh?”

“Your son,” Slav exhaled.

Lance shook his hand, trying to get the sticky tape off himself.

“And you go on.” The scientist nodded to Lance.

Shiro noisily sucked in air and folded his arms across his chest, staring frowningly at the trio.

“He said I'm stupid. He reasoned that I don't respond with aggression to aggression. I played by his rules.” Elvis lowered his head, glancing charmingly at Shiro with his deep, blue-purple eyes, using the Puppy Eyes technique.

Shiro exhaled, “Okay, and the onboard–”

“Okay?! Okay?! Knocked out the owl and the crack with him. Right?!!! Shiro!!!” Slav shrieked and gave Lance a menacing glare, causing him to work with redoubled zeal.

Matt put his hand on Shiro's shoulder. “Don't worry, I'll restore our onboard computer.”

Matt unfolded the laptop, connected it to the system through the children's game console. Pidge crouched down beside Lance, helping to unwind the groaning Slav. Sendak flipped the bed over, setting it in place, and nodded to the frightened Hunk. Hunk dropped his eyes, trying to stay as far away from Sendak as possible.

“A Trojan, you say? Does the command ‘delete’ mean anything to you?” Matt's fingers fluttered over the keyboard.

Alex turned to Skylar. Skylar shrugged.

“Restart. Recent requests. ‘Balmera porn?’ What?” Matt turned around, spinning in his chair.

“That's not us.” Alex snorted.

“It's probably Hunk.” Pidge rose slowly, menacingly placing her hands on her hips and withering Hunk with her gaze to Sendak's delight. “Of course, Hunk. I've got everything blocked off at home.”

“‘How to hijack an imperial battleship without Keith’? Really?” Matt turned around again, disapprovingly looking at Skylar. “Son, what kind of question formulation is that? You're a genius.”

“A clear one.” Skylar jerked his chin up.

“It's even interesting.” Matt went back to the program. “Here are the last ones. ‘How to conduct a third-degree interrogation’, ‘what is a crack’, ‘how to knock out an owl’, ‘how to cover traces’, ‘how to delete a nasty system’.”

“Your father died at the crack.” Slav grumbled. “And you… That's undignified.”

Alex put his arm around the shoulders of droopy Elvis. “Not that kind of rift. Only the dumb owl is afraid of doorways.” He lowered his voice, leaning close to Elvis's ear. “Don't mind him.”

“Dad, I'm sorry.” Elvis looked up at Shiro. “But it's just, the owl was too much running his's fucking mouth.”

Coran clutched his heart, slumping heavily on a chair. “Elvis Christian Harris! It's outrageous! For a prince to express himself like that! It's Shiro, it's all Shiro! I knew he couldn't be trusted. What an upbringing! Rude soldier!”

Shiro leaned toward Matt, hiding a smile. “Are you going to react to that?” he whispered.

“I see you're happy.” Matt replied, not distracting himself from the program.

Alex patted Elvis on the shoulder and pulled him toward Skylar. “Hey, scientist, why are you giving us up like that?”

“You're giving yourselves up.” Skylar squinted his eye. “Or are you talking about the program? Matt's program is fucking hard to beat.”

Alex exhaled noisily, turning back to Elvis. Elvis noticed his gaze, blushed, and sharply dropped his head. Keith's hand laid on Elvis's shoulder.

“Why are you falling for Alex?”

“But he's so charismatic.” The boy smiled confidentially.

“That's an argument. No, it's not a fucking argument at all.” Keith pursed his lips. “Don't let anyone manipulate you.”

“Don't you?”

Keith gave a hum, glancing at Lance, who was fiddling with the duct tape, thoroughly tangled in it at the same time. So amusingly clumsy and so adorable. Whoa, Keith. Keith smiled, noticing that perceptive Elvis had read the answer in his eyes.

“Elvis.” Shiro gestured for the boy to follow him. Alex and Skylar sympathetically looked at the young Prince.

Shiro stopped at the view window, behind which unfolded a majestic space.

“You think I'm unworthy, too…”

Shiro turned around. “Because you've misbehaved?” He smiled. “Is that any indication? And what makes you think you have to conform to anyone's expectations? No one has the right to judge you.”

Elvis stared at Shiro in surprise.

“Just follow your dream. Then you will please Lotor, and Allura, and me.”

“And me.” The furry alien stood beside Shiro. “And even more will please me if you help me move the apple tree to my hole… room.”

“What the fuck?”

“For Christmas.”

Shiro rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Let's go.”

Elvis hid a smile as he watched Shiro leave the bridge and looked up at the window. Whimsical constellations were writing their fairy tales. The stars had been talking to him with fantasies since childhood, telling ancient legends. Everyone has his own guiding star, and Elvis had his own constellation, a favorite cluster of stars that wasn't on any map. The Prince called it “lovers”: a starry knight strolling across a star bridge with his lady of the heart. Elvis waved to the constellation and it seemed to him that the starry knight lowered his head greetingly, and the beautiful lady smiled.