Status Quo
Chapter Sixteen: Secrets Abound
by Kyence

Disclaimer: All Voltron characters are property of World Events Productions.

‘’ denote character thoughts.
 

The scowling face of the viceroy was quite befitting the situation, Zarkon thought with amusement. He raised his palm elegantly, assuming a demeanor concerned with etiquette, though any spectator to this political game would see through the deliberately satirical ruse. “I see no need to apologize for past events, Throk,” he complemented his poise with a croon, “after all, you Drules helped Lotor succeed in his little coup d’état against me…”

“The public is outraged with this news!” Throk bellowed. “They are flocking to the side of the rebels! Support is drastically falling for the Emperor and the Imperial campaign.”

“The Emperor should have expected this from me. The compromise made long ago for Opachre to be annexed into my territory, in exchange for my keeping the information about Planet Drule to myself…but, as soon as I was thrust into a robeast, you pounced on that world like a desperate little whore willing to degrade herself for that slab of meat,” Zarkon sneered as he let the imagery in his words develop a foul taste in Throk’s mouth. Throk audibly sucked in his breath as his eyes widened from fury. Zarkon snickered, “So, now the Universe knows what wonderful environmentalists you Drules are; surely you cannot be surprised why so few planets want to welcome you with open arms? Oh, that’s right,” Zarkon put his index finger to his large, fanged lips as he looked away for effect, “it slipped my mind that you were spending all these years looking for other worlds.” He tapped his lip as he thoughtfully provoked, “For quite a while there, I thought you were simply conquering peoples and blowing planetary bodies up just for the glory of war. Such a rarity for me to have come to such an incorrect and silly conclusion.” Zarkon returned his focus to the screen, where a speechless Throk looked as though his brain had shattered every neuron.

“As I have aforementioned,” Zarkon began with a regal air, “the past is complete. This is an opportunity to consider new conditions to our relationship. I want Opachre, again, and as is obvious by the reports you have no doubt received, my forces have already reclaimed the world. To display good faith, I propose a joint attack in the Milky Way Galaxy. I have insiders that have determined that there is a large fusion reactor located in the Galaxy Garrison’s heavily bureaucratic sector of that galaxy. I do believe that the Empire has had great difficulty in that entire galaxy due to some Voltron composed of vehicles. If you withdraw your forces from Opachre’s boundaries, reveal your spies that the Alliance has yet to catch on Dhm to me, I will allow a certain quota of Drules to immigrate to my governed worlds, as well as launch a direct attack against Garrison with the Drule Empire.” He folded his arms. “What say the Emperor? Shall I hold while you fetch the news to him?”

“This matter will require some time,” the viceroy uttered plainly, already cursing himself for his emotions getting the better of him and giving Zarkon an advantage.

“Do not deliberate too long,” the King warned, “Or I may not bother with statesmanship the next time,” he added with a suggestive sneer.

Viceroy Throk commanded his soldier to cut the transmission. Once this was done, he pummeled his armrests with his fists. “I hate Duonulans,” he spat.

“It is done. Saoche is on her way.” Reyk’s words hushed the bustling hall of Castle Dhm, which had been busy in preparation for the Alliance attacks that were sure to come. Since there was no time to create an army of robotic drones, the Dhmk, Matuathian, and Duonulan civilians took the responsibility on to their own shoulders. The planet was theirs once again; they would not lose it again so quickly. The air carried the collective force of their will, the mantra that they would all perish before surrendering, and all felt it.

Zarkon was discussing strategies and troop placement with Shai’s generals and the Dhmk chiefs. In the past, there would have been governors present, but they either been killed by Lotor or the Alliance in that fateful battle months ago. He turned his head as his ear twitched in Reyk’s direction. “Very good. Her prisoner is the Arusian princess, no?” he simply asked as though its significance was slight to his plans.

Reyk’s eyes glowed. “I see that she has indeed commandeered the Princess.” He nodded emphatically to confirm his observation.

“Well, what did I tell you, Lotor?” Zarkon turned and regarded his son who had stopped any military conversation once the notion of Allura was announced. “Did I not say the Princess would be yours?”

Lotor smiled and bowed formally, a calm external response that was in complete contrast to the euphoria he was feeling inside. ‘Yes yes yes! I have you now, my lovely, sublime Allura! It has been so long since I have laid eyes upon your perfect form. How I’ve longed to see your smile, hear your voice, and feel your presence!’

“Is he going to be all right?” Reyk whispered to Zarkon, as Lotor’s gaze was glassy and distant.

“He’ll be like that for hours if I let him,” Zarkon grumbled while he crossed his arms. He glared at his love struck son and frowned to hint at his disgust. “I am this close to having Jepaya punching him whenever he gets that look,” Zarkon warned, holding his fingers an inch apart to gauge his dwindling tolerance for the crush.

“You have your planet, he has his girl. Be happy, Zarkon,” Reyk advised. Zarkon retorted, “I will be happy when the victory is complete. It can still slip through my grasp if I celebrate prematurely,” he clenched the air for effect. He could almost feel the ether dripping through his fingers. He was almost visualizing the phantasmal element when he heard, “Grandfather! Izzat you? Yes, it is! Always the snazzy dresser!”

The resulting “Hunh?” that blurted itself out of Zarkon’s mouth was loud enough to echo through the hall and effectively silence any other sounds or voices. Even the physical movements of the busy bodies halted in place. Karna ran towards the foyer from the makeshift laboratory he helped Hagar set up in the castle, apparently sensing the arrival beforehand.

“Arjuna! Yudishthira! You have returned alive!” He shouted joyously. Upon hearing the mention of the Royal Triplets being wholly among them, the citizens and subjects gave a harmonious cheering and clapping storm. Zarkon followed his grandson, his curiosity about how the other two had matured ecstatic it would soon be fulfilled. He saw two teal youths the same height as Karna, equaling the happiness of their sibling with their own smiles and dimpled yellow eyes.

“Hear that, Yudy? Karna thinks we’re a bunch o’ wimps,” Arjuna teased. “C’mere, you,” he put his younger brother in a headlock and proceeded to rustle Karna’s hair. He playfully resisted all the while, “Hey, I’m a sorcerer now! You can’t give me noogies without penalty anymore!”

“Isn’t he cute, Yudy?” Arjuna continued as he curled Karna’s hair. “And look at all this hair! So, dull and monocolored. Give me one hour, and I will remedy this lickety-split.” At the mention of his curly white locks potentially ending up like Arjuna’s multi-hued coiffure, Karna’s resisting turned genuine.

Zarkon was not sure how to absorb the scenario. In the past, he would have actively scolded and punished such outbursts of emotion. It was unbecoming to be so elated when situations were so dire and there were serious matters to attend to. Yet, as he looked around him, his perspective seemed to be the lonely minority; no one appeared to be insulted by this behavior. In fact, he could feel the morale rising exponentially, threatening to crash through the castle ceiling.

“Enough,” Yudishthira quietly chided his brothers, “you know that this is improper. And we have not even greeted Our Majesty with the respect that is required.” With that lecture complete, Yudishthira prostrated himself, his own platinum blonde hair neatly tied back. “Greetings, Your Majesty, Grandfa….”

“Look how big I’ve gotten! I bet I can lift you!” Unaffected by the preach, Arjuna proceeded to hug Zarkon, and try lifting him. He grunted as his back began to arch. “Uh…never mind,” he groaned as he lowered Zarkon the quarter of an inch he had accomplished.

Yudishthira was absolutely mortified. He was always dreading this possibility would occur. He had managed to personally accept his grandfather’s lack of affection as his personality, but Arjuna had always been outspoken and wildly unconventional. Even as children, Arjuna had been the only child, nay, person to actively seek out Zarkon’s emotional response. And amazingly, he had never been denied, whereas Lotor could have hand delivered the Universe on a plate and been snorted at.

“And don’t make those faces behind my back. Can’t a grandson be happy to see his grandpa, long presumed dead by the entire, FRIGGIN’ Universe?!” Arjuna commented aloud with a bit of annoyance at his older brother without looking. He cleared his throat before taking a step away from his grandfather, who was silent and motionless. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. After these countless months of seeing nothing but misery and helplessness, I see hope. And it’s great!” Arjuna took Zarkon’s right hand and pressed his forehead into it, his black hairs draping over the display.

Zarkon looked down at his grandson with the most unique hair he had ever seen. It brought a smile to his worn visage. Arjuna’s indomitable spirit and fierce loyalty was something he had to cherish. He often thought the phrase of unconditional love was overused, but if he allowed himself to think about it long enough, Arjuna was probably the only person that held him with such regard. He knew he could never reciprocate anything like that, and tried to compensate by allowing the personality to thrive despite his influence. He destroyed so many things and crushed the wills of countless souls; sparing a special one was challenging, but worth every drop of effort. He made him happy. Arjuna made Zarkon feel like a grandfather.

He felt the emotions that had been sweltering inside him throughout the recent ordeals boiling within his body. It disconcerted him, and he knew he had to dissuade them with something acute.

“I am joyous that you two are well and alive. The royal family is united, and will stand the test of time as a symbol of our realm’s strength and sufficiency. I behold you three, and I see hope.” Yudishthira wanted to wail in his grandfather’s arms, but he maintained his composure while Karna pat his shoulder understandingly. Arjuna encircled his brothers with his powerful arms, and hugged them intensely.

“We are one big happy family,” he crooned as he snuggled them.

“Now, what is Hagar up to, Karna?” Zarkon pressed a new topic, uncomfortable.

“She is working diligently, but she says she would be in a more productive state of mind if she had her due audience with you,” he replied with the twinkle of his eye hidden by Arjuna’s pressed cheek.

“Fine, I’ll go,” Zarkon said exasperatedly. “Take care you three. And get reacquainted with your uncle.” Zarkon stepped back into the hall where the military meeting had been waiting for his return. His words were trite and brief, as he quickly departed them as well to handle Hagar.

‘That old crone will have me my old thinking self again in no time,’ he mused to himself.

Meanwhile, Lotor had already streamed down to the foyer in the direction of the cheering and saw Karna’s two companions. He instantly knew they were his nephews, and the men that were looking back at him was a startling comparison to his last memory of them as tiny Dhmk-looking types.

“Lotor!” Arjuna shouted.

Lotor considered the appearance of the one that addressed him. The anarchic hairstyle and novel outfit could only mean that he was Arjuna all grown up. “Arjuna?” Lotor asked for confirmation.

Arjuna approached him with an assertive pace, his face alight with anticipation. “Lotor!” he reiterated. Before the prince could vocalize a reply, his nephew’s fist had introduced itself to his jaw in the intimate manner of a street brawler. The force was a shock for Lotor, as his body twisted before falling to the floor.

“THAT’S for mucking up my first irreplaceable months as an adult. And for turning my planet into an Alliance clubhouse,” Arjuna pointed at him fiercely, jabbing the air.

Lotor wiped the sanguine trickle of fluid cascading down the corner of his mouth. His dark sleeve absorbed the blood, and he looked no worse for wear. He hoisted himself up and glared at his attacker angrily. “I did nothing of the sort. You will suffer for you attack against the Crown Prince of Dhm!”

Arjuna crossed his arms and lifted his head to engage in a staring debacle with him. He smirked, unthreatened by his uncle’s potential to harm him. “Hah, I’ve seen Coba crap things more terrifying than you. But if you wanna go at it, I’ll happily oblige you. But no weapons save our fists. I don’t need a gun to pound the snob outta ya!”

Lotor laughed malevolently, gesturing with open arms. “Ready when you are, rainbow.”

Arjuna pulled his arms back, folding his biceps as he prepared to deliver another stinging blow. Yudishthira leapt in between the two. Arjuna stayed his hand, as did Lotor. Yudishthira turned to his uncle and bowed respectfully. “Forgive my brother, Your Highness. He is frustrated by the hardships we have learned our planet has gone through. Because you are heir to the throne, he feels that you improperly handled the Alliance’s invasion. Now that things are being rectified, I beseech you to ignore his aggression.” He bowed his head to the floor. Arjuna clicked his tongue at the sight.

“Arjuna,” Yudishthira lifted his head and looked at his brother, “apologize to the Prince.” Lotor was smug as he waited for the subjugation.

“Hell no,” Arjuna harshly defied. He turned on his heels and stomped away. “The only way I’ll say sorry is if Lotor says it to Gramps. And I think we can all agree THAT will never happen,” he quipped in the meantime. He reached the automatic doors at the end of the foyer, which slid apart for him. “If you want me, I’ll be getting some well-deserved private time with my planet,” he announced with a pompous air before the doors closed after him.

Yudishthira stood up, shaking his head.

Lotor felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. ‘What did he mean I should apologize to Father? What did I ever do to HIM?’ his mind pondered as confusion dulled his senses. He knew his thoughts, his mind, were incomplete, that a part of him was being imprisoned and left to fester away. He shook his head violently.

“Uncle, are feeling well? I hope Arjuna did not give you a concussion,” Yudishthira worried while Karna looked sadly.

“No, that jab was nothing,” Lotor dissuaded. “I just…I am just thinking about something I just realized. I’m fine,” he assured his nephew.

“Really?”

Lotor smiled emphatically. “Mmm,” he mumbled. “And for your honest concern, I will let that transgression slide. But only this once,” he added conditionally.

Yudishthira nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Lotor smirked as he took leave of his nephews. ‘I should thank Arjuna for knocking some sense into me. I must find out what is being hidden from the rest of me.’ He stroked his chin and mused about his nephew that shared his own penchant for violent expression. ‘I admire his bravery. Anyone daring enough to risk scarring my face is a brave soul indeed. However, his foolishness will not be a trait I will tolerate.’

Alone with his elder brother, Karna finally spoke his opinion on everything that had happened. “Big HAPPY family my ass,” he spat.

“Hmm.”

“Hmm.”

The paltry use of syllables was full of the orator’s tension. The elderly monarch faced forward, though did his best to not stare directly at his companion. Conversely, the arcane witch did not take her eyes off him. The strained situation did have its effect on her, but in a different way. She fidgeted in her chair, occasionally pretending to brush some of Coba’s hairs off of her tattered robe.

King Zarkon tapped his long talons on the lacquered table. Its length provided a suitable medium for his nail’s strumming to reach Hagar’s ears. He sighed loudly, pretending this was a dull bit of tedium barely worth his concern. Hagar visibly attempted to settle more easily into her chair, with a satisfied, sultry “Ahhh” killing the silence.

“I would not get too comfortable if I were you,” Zarkon finally used his vocabulary to form a coherent sentence.

“Why not?” Hagar asked demurely, which had a disturbing connotation to it, considering it was coming from a decidedly decaying body.

Zarkon shuddered in reply, but his draping clothes prevented it from being visible. “I will allow you to have a lab and do all of the things you did before in your spare time,” he growled. “However,” he added as he lifted a finger, “You are not to be reinstated as my advisor.”

Hagar bolted straight up. “What about the custom?!” she cried out, though inward she wished he had genuinely missed her. “I want what is rightfully mine!”

“I gave you what is rightfully yours; but, I cannot ignore all of your pathetic failures before you started watching my grandchildren. In fact, your warding is the only reason I am keeping you around. Personally, I would have you as far away from me as possible, but for the sake of custom, the Triplets, and this planet’s morale, I will commit the only act of altruism I will EVER do in my entire life…but don’t quote me on that, or I will snap you in two. I don’t care how many times you zap me with that stick of yours, I will do it,” he announced with finality, choosing to finish with a threatening quip.

Hagar sat back in her chair, though her frown was horrific enough to crack the long table’s finish. Her heart had been torn apart by this man so many times in the past, and just when it seemed it would heal, the scars were torn anew. Even when she thought she had the upper hand, he always managed to shatter her self-confidence and turn the tables on her. It was the harshest kind of addiction; utterly destructive, but she craved the possibility of a union more and more each time.

“Must you always be so blunt when everyone knows you are capable of speaking with far more tact?” Shai emerged from behind Hagar, a scowl on her face.

Zarkon pointed behind her. “How long have you been here?” His eyes widened in surprise.

Shai sucked in her breath, her throat rumbling like a lioness’s. “Long enough to witness the lack of rapport between you two. And I am far less than pleased.”

Zarkon narrowed his yellow eyes, which commenced glowing red as his temper awoke. “You are the mind reader of us all; you should be the least surprised. Besides, I actually TOLD you how I felt about her, anyway,” he replied defensively as he harshly tossed his hand towards Hagar’s person.

“This is not the time to burn bridges, Zarkon, especially when the have not even finished being built in the first place,” she lectured him. Her harsh gaze softened as she gave him a small smile. “Pouting does not become you,” she observed with an impish gleam in her eyes. Zarkon shrugged and turned away from the two women as he turned his nose upwards.

“I was not pouting. I was…grumbling silently.” He closed his eyes and folded his arms. He sighed as he feigned resignment. “Very well, Shai. I will give Hagar another chance as my advisor.” ‘I will not have to wait long before she fails in some way, I bet,’ he thought to himself.

‘Ah ah ah, Zarkon,’ Shai’s mental voice permeated the king’s thoughts in a playful scold. ‘Remember, I am the mind reader of the pack,’ she modified the mocking epithet.

‘Are you here only to come to Hagar’s rescue?’ he pressed in the telepathic conversation. ‘It would be a touching display of sisterhood if that is the case…but please tell me it isn’t. The saccharine is about to rot my teeth.’

‘Actually, I came to discuss the issue of the Arusian princess with you when I was told that you were in a private audience with Hagar. You seemed to be enjoying yourselves so much, I almost did not want to intrude,’ her psychic warbled as though from laughter.

“Hagar, my spell-sister,” Shai placed her arms about the sitting witch, “do you wish some respite from this uncouth man of ours?” she joked, watching from the corner of her eyes as Zarkon started choking on his own saliva. He coughed violently as Hagar smirked upwards at her questioner.

“It would be in my best interests I am sure,” she complied as she lifted herself from her prone position. The swarthy monarch’s eyes watered from his sudden spasm as she humbly bowed to him before departing.

Shai chose to the sit in the now vacant chair. She arched a delicate eyebrow as a concerned look drifted across her azure face. “Do you need a drink?”

He shook his head to suggest the negative as he pounded on his chest with his fist. “My body forgot what it felt like…to be mortally embarrassed…and consumed with homicidal rage…at the same time. Thanks for the refresher, my lady,” his initial phrases sliced apart by panting, he completed the admission with his typical dry composure and wit.

“If it is any consolation, no one dares to use the biting sarcasm with me that you do,” she offered a truce.

“We are making up for lost time then?”

“If that is what you want to attribute it to, so be it,” Shai declared with a palm brushing the breezeless air. “Now then, shall we discuss the princess?”

Zarkon lowered his chin into his cupped hands, regarding her curiously. “What has you worried? She is utterly worthless without her guards or Voltron harem about to wipe her superfluous tears.”

Shai’s eyes widened. “Bitter, are we? I guess it only takes one bad blonde to ruin the whole bunch.”

“You are thinking of apples, Shai,” Zarkon retorted impatiently. “And I think I have a right to be bitter. After all…”

“…she stole your son from you, no?” Shai finished the statement, her words cryptic with allusion. Zarkon was not sure if she was accusing Allura then, and the potential mention of Lotor’s late mother as the alternative affected him. He leaned his left cheek on his hands that had since balled into a pair of clenched fists. The grip was enough to dig his long nails into his palms. Cascades of dark blood oozed from behind his fingers, sizzling a corroded path as it dissolved the fibers of his sleeves away. Drops landed on the lacquered tabletop, making permanent scabs in its once flawless finish.

“I have gathered a great deal of information about her lineage and her exploits. The rumors about her deceased father disturb me the most, though, “ Shai resumed her initial topic.

“He was a lousy fighter. Pragmatic when it came to merging magic and technology, but inept with a blade. Even if the eclipse had not occurred, the advantage would still have been in my favor. And that is no boast. That is fact.” Shai knew from his tone that he spoke honestly, a rare circumstance that she always knew to consider strongly when it happened.

“A ghost does not have need of blades, Zarkon,” Shai explained her concern. “I believe that his daughter is his earthly link to this plane. If she is within close proximity of you, the apparition of her father may confront you.”

“Shai, I am not afraid of some post-human ectoplasm. Let him rattle his chains, howl his moans, groan and throw things about. A poltergeist is the least of my problems. The living are more threatening. If the dead cannot rest, that is their fault, not mine, and I do not care. Mayhap he will do me a favor, and make Lotor see Allura is not worth his further attention. But, until that moment comes, let the specter do its worst.”

Shai groaned as she rubbed her temples together. “You know it is more complicated than that. He may recall…some of his last moments…with you…” she finally revealed the underlying reason of her vigilance. “The eclipse, factored with your presumed heritage created a final memory that could easily have imprinted on his immortal soul.” Zarkon’s visage was overcome with the importance of what she was referring to. He rose from his seat and walked over to her. He leaned and whispered into her feline ears.

“You think he will recall it to everyone if he sees me?”

She turned to him, and spoke telepathically. ‘If he mentions, remembers, what transpired, your identity will be uncovered for sure. You know what the consequences are for you, your descendants, and your Empire.’ “Can you accept that risk?” she finished out loud as she stood. Her shape morphed into a mirror image of Zarkon. “Well,” she urged in a voice that was his precise baritone, “can you risk losing everything you have worked for…forever?”

Zarkon placed a hand on the side of Shai’s transformed face. “I have never had any other choice than to gamble that wager time and time again,” he answered. Suddenly, a faint noise caught their attention. They both looked at the amulet with Lotor’s hair in it that Shai wore at his request. There was a tiny crack. Shai reverted to her original form, covering his hand with hers as she looked up at him.

“I hope you know what you are doing.”

“I do, Shai. I always know.”

Continued

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