Status Quo
Chapter Three: Hagar and Cossack’s Wards
by Kyence

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

‘’ denote character thoughts.
 

Wednesday. Rations were always handed out on Wednesday, a reminder that the Alliance was the victor, but still "noble" enough to keep this planet just barely above the poverty line. The poverty line was the replacement of a hierarchy that had managed to unite the sundry races of Dhm into a formidable force years before. The only people that had truly suffered from the old system were the slaves, who were not citizens anyway, so their welfare was directly related to the wealth of their masters. If one had the misfortune to be the property of a sadist, someone else undoubtedly had the privilege to be pampered by their owner. The two possible outcomes were as random as the shapes of the stratus clouds in the somber sky above all of their heads.

How irritating it was to her that she had nothing else to ponder while waiting for her turn.

‘One can't blame a captured person forced into slavery for being bitter,’ she thought. ‘When a bird, born and raised in the wild is captured and forced to sing in a cage, one can't expect the bird not to try flying out when the door is ajar.’

She noticed a trend in the quantity of rations.

‘But the bird would simply be happy to be free again...only the 'civilized' demand tit-for-tat reparations.’

The rations were always less than the prior week.

‘Eventually they'll be tossing dust in our faces, saying ‘Bon appetit.’’ she thought smugly.

The lines were long, with defeated looks on every link of its Dhmk chain.

‘Reality and comeuppance are cruel lovers,’ she mused. She unconsciously moved a step forward as the line advanced. She was amazed at the homogeneity of it; only Dhmk with light blue skin populated this hungry serpent. Before Zarkon was defeated, this city was incredibly diverse. Now, the Alliance sought to maintain peace by dividing the subspecies and races native to this planet in their respective “ethnic regions.”

‘Humans can be such fools,’ her voice spat in her mind. ‘They do not comprehend that the main species of Dhmk has a lifespan of their twenty years; over ten generations have passed since Zarkon eliminated such pointless boundaries. Now they expect everyone to mold back to a bygone era, even though those that remember such things are the Opachrians...but they’re either in prison, deported, or already executed.’

The line moved ahead once more. There were two Dhmk in front of her. They both had dull eyes and numb faces.

‘They are like wolves denied the deer, sharks denied the fish, plants denied the sun,’ she observed.

Once again, she thought about Zarkon. She looked up at the sad sky. To her, it looked as though it was considering smashing itself in a merciful swoon and outright killing its children suffering on the surface. She had been devastated to see his robeast explode into millions of metallic shards. She had put her sorcery, her science, and something she never did - her heart and soul - into its creation.

‘But it still wasn’t good enough, was it?’ the question nagged. ‘Even after slicing the Blazing Sword in two, Voltron STILL managed to defeat Zarkon.’

‘The slaves HATED Zarkon. But, he hated them even more, ‘ she chuckled to herself. ‘He liked to see these creatures suffer under toil and sweat and sickness. If they weren’t so simple-minded, they would appreciate the lesson his actions outlined: how petty the problems of modern life seem in retrospect when your dinner consisting of gruel and grimy water awaits your whipped body.’

The line moved forward, so that only one Dhmk stood between her and that worthless ration distributor.

‘But, Zarkon understood the people of Planet Dhm, just as much as they understood him. He knew that underlying the racial conflicts between them was an overlapping need: the need for aggression. Violence and bloodshed were the means of maintaining a people’s strength. Zarkon knew better than to attempt reforming them. Instead, he had done the most obvious and effective thing to unite them all...give them a common enemy. Once Dhm became a force conquering planet after planet, it provided the predatorial needs of the races and the resources they had butchered each other for in the past. And Zarkon received what he desired: power over others, the power to incontrovertibly affect the outcome of billions of destinies. It was a perfect relationship.’

She looked at the back of the Dhmk in front of her. His clothes were threadbare, the sleeves torn off at the shoulder. She could see his spine and shoulder bones pushing against his skin, demanding liberation from life.

‘I know Zarkon escaped in the ship I built. Yet, no one knows his location. I’d like to think he found Shai, but hope is for fools.’

"Next," she heard the peacekeeper announce. The emaciated Dhmk in front of her stepped aside with his bounty: two loaves of bread. His expression was a compound of relief and self-disgust. She knew that he was grateful to keep his kin alive another week, but ashamed of himself for requiring the enemy's minuscule goodwill to do it.

‘After all, only a slave is fed by another...a proud Dhmk feeds themself,’ she recited the old adage.

She stepped up, and looked the distributor in the eye.

His face was swimming with pock marks, his eyes were watery and reddish, drowning in his malaise. She smiled at his condition.

‘My spell is working. Last time some boy calls me an old hag!’

"My my, are you sick?" she asked as innocently and homely as she possibly could. "You look like you've caught something since last Wednesday."

He smiled. "Yeah," he said as he sniffed. "I think it's an allergic reaction to something."

"And they are still making you hand out these life-saving delectables when it's clear you need medical attention? For shame," she shook her head as she played the role of a concerned grandmother for this sap.

"I've been through worse. As long as I can walk and talk, I'm good to go," he said with pride.

‘Note to self: Add paralysis and laryngitis to the spell.’

"Here are your rations for the week, ma'am," he spoke as he handed her the two loaves of bread.

"Until next Wednesday, dearie," she said sweetly.

The soldier smiled at her as she stepped aside.

‘You'll be in a coffin by then, I promise you that.’

The next part of the midweek ritual: bringing the rations back "home."

‘Hah, home.’

The Alliance had grown a spine since Voltron defeated Zarkon and Lotor.

‘They expect this to feed three adult Dhmk, a witch, and a soldier, and then wonder why there's rebellion?!’

She knew very well that had it not been for the Triplet's resourcefulness, even Coba would have starved to death.

In her mind, she pictured the scene waiting for her after "dinner." Yudishthira, with his white hair tied in the back, pondering over strategies to raid necessities from Alliance camps, Karna reading over the sorcery lessons she had taught him today with Coba curled on his lap, and Arjuna attempting to upgrade his gun with stolen Alliance equipment yet again.

She could not believe how fast they had grown. The pupal metamorphosis of the Dhmk always intrigued her, even though she had lived on Planet Dhm for many years. She wondered what these three souls thought about the new world of chaos they awoke to. As children, they slumbered in a large cocoon while their grandfather expanded the Empire. They emerged adults, greeted by a conquered, decimated realm. This was home, a hell they must acclimate to. Each triplet handled the transition differently. All were unique individuals that could be easily distinguished from one another.

"Hey, Old Mother, dear!" Hagar heard a playful, deep voice chuckle.

She rolled her eyes at the proclamation but smiled. Annoying while charming, that was Arjuna.

A turquoise Dhmk half a foot taller than the aged sorceress ran towards her. His body was lithe and lean, like the typical Dhmk, save for his unusually well-developed arms. He was the most eccentric of the trio: while all three had a white streak of hair along their vertical crest, only Arjuna had the inspired idea of shaving a mohawk. In case that wasn't a big enough statement, he had managed to find something green to dye the mohawk with. Only the hairs from his forehead escaped this fashion: they were long and dyed black. A tattoo of intricate swirls and orbs marked the left of his head. His clothes were chosen to complement the audacity of his look: he even went so far as to wear an Alliance jacket he'd stolen off a soldier in a riot a couple of weeks ago.

Arjuna greeted her again with a bright fanged smile. He picked her up and spun her around.

"I'm getting dizzy," she grumbled.

"Aww," Arjuna feigned a whine. "Don't you like the attention, Hagar?" he inquired with a wink.

"Be gentle with an old lady," she answered.

"An old lady that can turn me into cat food," he snorted. He then proceeded to give her a big hug. She couldn't help but enjoy it.

"Enough, m'boy. Help me with the rations."

He complied as he released her and took the two meager loaves of bread that had fallen to the ground during their rendezvous.

"Wow!" he gasped with sarcasm. "Two whole loaves! That's four halves, you know," he added nonchalantly.

Hagar smirked and resumed her weekly trudge to their residence. The wounded and homeless dreck lining the streets no longer garnered a response from her. Initially it took some adjusting on her part: she could recall that most of these souls were either soldiers or nobles only a month before. She did not feel any actual sympathy for them. Instead, it was grim satisfaction that she had yet to receive any punishment for her "transgressions" against the Alliance.

Arjuna's face suggested a different perspective. He nodded as he looked side to side at his people.

"Yup, the Alliance sure doesn't have a vengeful bone in its bloated belly," he snarled. He suddenly halted his gait and turned his full attention to Hagar. "I heard a young one say that the Alliance will enlighten all of Dhm, since we are 'evil, oppressive, and deranged savages," he spat, rage burning in his saffron eyes. "It hasn't even been three months and the children are already brainwashed into feeling inferior to hairless monkeys!"

"Remember that your uncle is part 'hairless monkey'," Hagar reminded him.

"Yeah, I'll also remember that he's the one I have to thank for waking up to this nightmare; my fist and gun will remember, too. Don't you worry about me, Old Mother," he concluded with a gentle smile that contrasted the bile in his words.

Hagar simply nodded, and began walking again. She had deliberately intended to instigate Arjuna's anger, knowing that he would channel it into the raid with the rebels against the Alliance peacekeepers tonight.

She looked into the distance. ‘A quarter of a mile left to go,’ she thought. ‘Let's see if we can reach home without his weekly question about missing...’

"I miss Gramps, how 'bout you?" Arjuna announced his revelation to the world. Hagar cringed at the inquiry, and also at the attention his loud announcement would draw to them.

‘Maybe if I pretend I didn't hear him...’

"He is one crazy bastard, y'know? Notice how I say 'is' and not 'was'," he quipped, "because I know he's not stupid enough to die in a robeast?"

Hagar bit her lip. ‘I should've known he wouldn't give up so easily.’

"And I KNOW that someone involved in making the robeast built an escape ship...do YOU know anyone involved in making the robeast that built an escape ship, Hagar?" he said her name with a twinkle in his eye.

‘Keep biting. Don't stop at the taste of blood.’

"Eh, even if there wasn't a ship, he probably would've pulled somethin' nutty out of that crazy-ass getup of his and parachuted to the ground or somethin'."

‘Ah, an opportunity to change the focus.’

"And I KNOW someone else with a crazy-ass getup...do YOU know someone else with a crazy-ass getup, Arjuna?" she happily retorted.

He once again stopped walking, his jaw dropped in a thoroughly overdramatic expression of shock. He pointed his left index finger to himself.

"Are you inquiring moi has poor fashion sense?"

"There's definitely a gene for that in the family line," she chirped.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Arjuna said defensively as he frantically waved his hands. "It's hard to stay cutting-edge in a post-apocalyptic world!" His black locks glided in the breeze generated by his gesture. He then burst out in genuine laughter which was oddly contagious. Hagar found herself laughing with him soon enough.

"Ahhhh, it's great to have a chuckle now and then, especially when everything else seems to inconceivably suck so much..." he confessed.

"That's why cackling is such an asset," Hagar remarked. She cleared her throat.

"So, where's Yudishthira and Karna?" she asked.

Arjuna looked away as he answered her. "Yudishthira's discussing tonight's itinerary with the others, and Karna's...well..."

His fading voice was hint enough for Hagar.

"What's Cossack trying to teach him THIS time?!" she yelled.

Arjuna flinched from her harsh tone. He shrugged his shoulders as he honestly replied, "How the hell should I know?"

Hagar blinked at him for several moments. Arjuna shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid her stare.

"What?" he asked indignantly. "Am I my brother's keeper or somethin'?"

"Where did you learn that line?"

"Yudishthira gave me a funky book to read about human myths... of course I would never kill Yudy or Karna, but that's because I ain't done got no human in me...nope, no bananas for me, no siree, hee he..." Arjuna paused in his little ramble to see that Old Mother was not amused.

She continued to scowl at him. "Fine, fine, I won't say another word."

"I only need one word, Arjuna. What's that fool Cossack attempting to educate Karna on this time?"

Their pace had increased since Arjuna had divulged Cossack the Tutor was on the prowl again.

‘He seems all right to me. I've known him all my life,’ Arjuna wondered why Hagar loathed the soldier. ‘He was assigned to guard our cocoons. Despite everything else going on this planet, he's still by our side. He gave up on attempting to outsmart Yudy, but he showed me how to operate a firearm...which is kinda strange considering he prefers a whip...’

"Whoo-pish!" Arjuna said aloud as he absentmindedly flicked his left wrist as though handling an actual whip. The look on Hagar's face was one of horror, and Arjuna was at a loss as to why. As he saw her cast a spell and fly toward their destination at a rapid speed, he realized what his miming suggested.

"Oh crap," he seethed through his teeth. "Hey, Hagar, wait, I was, ah the hell with it," he gave up trying to scream at her to stop. "She's long gone now."

He looked at the pathetic loaves of bread nestled in his right arm and sighed.

"She could've at least taken the bread with her."

“Are you sure this is going to work, White Asp?” the chief of the Northern Dhmk asked in his dialect.

The others in the room turned their attention in the direction of the question. Before them was a young Dhmk, only months out of the cocoon. Despite the long hair growing only in the middle of his head, he was unmistakably one of them. He possessed an enviable intelligence that spared many of their families from hungry nights and empty stomachs. Although the shack he discussed the means of doing so was the same place he slept, their code names and unknown version of their language to the enemy seemed enough. The Alliance had not discovered the source of the attacks, yet.

The one called “White Asp” crooked a thin smile.

“Have my plans ever failed before?” he replied.

The chief gulped as the spectators shook their heads.

“We all are wary of our situation, Red Wolf. We all see the decay surrounding us fester more each and every moment. We see our people, our families, our children, wading through the carrion of better days. This is our food. This is our drive. We will teach them to feel pride again. Not even the Alliance can take that away from them,” White Asp spoke with reverence, his saffron eyes glowing bright with passion.

The chief nodded, his admiration for this young one growing stronger.

“I would have followed your grandfather into the depths of hell, White Asp. If he were to return, I would still follow him despite this current torment...”

Yudishthira’s white eyebrows furrowed at mention of his grandfather. A part of him wanted to suddenly be left alone and mourn his grandfather and uncle yet again. They were all he had left after his mother and father died. If it were not for the love of his brothers, the unintentional comedy of Cossack, and the guidance of Hagar, he would have simply ran back into his cocoon and died there. The calm side of him refused to carry such morbid thoughts out.

‘I do what I can for them and for Dhm.’

“When will we enact the plan, White Asp?”

He smiled again. Nothing put his mind at ease better than calculating ways to outdo an opponent.

“In the past, we have staged decoy riots, robeast stampedes, and distant gunfire to drive the majority of Alliance peacekeepers away from the ration camps while another squad ransacks. Throughout the planet, we have heard similar accounts of others who have used similar tactics...and each successive attempt leaves us with less fighters and less rations. Think no mistake: the Alliance is getting smarter...”

“And you are suggesting that we simply stroll in the heavily guarded encampment of the soldiers themselves?!”

Yudishthira held up his hand to quiet the uneasy voice of the chief as disconcerted murmuring among the others began.

“The soldiers have the best food, the best weapons, the best clothing, the best materials, the best of everything. But, go outside and glance in the direction of the ruins of Castle Dhm. See the symbolism seeping out of what is left of that hallowed representation of our past might being converted into an Alliance headquarters!!! When this plan is executed, it will symbolize OUR furor and OUR strength, and show that we may not be as mighty as before, but as Gods help us, we will be again!” He pounded his fist on the table he sat at. One of its decrepit legs could not handle the stress, and the whole table fell apart into five pieces.

Every soul in that room took several steps back as his eyes began to glow a feverish red.

“We will NOT sit back and pick off tiny ration camps. We will strike them at their most powerful point...and walk away without a single casualty on our part.”

“And we will accomplish this by simply walking in, taking what we need, and walking out...” the chief said skeptically.

“We kill any slumbering soldiers we encounter along the way, taking anything of value,” Yudishthira added matter-of-factly.

“And the Third will accomplish this?”

“The Third has been instructed by Old Mother, learning the dark arts at a fierce speed. His voracious appetite for saving this world is seen by the spirits, allowing his spells to have immense potency. He will cast the most powerful Sleep spell together with Old Mother. TWO beings casting this spell will put each and every person in that headquarters into a deep sleep. We will free our people imprisoned there, we will take anything of use there, and unleash rivers of blood. No one is to survive in that headquarters by the time our ten squads leave.”

“Why don’t we simply take over the headquarters, then?”

“Doing so will lead to the Alliance sending a massive fleet to retake it. We would lose it anyway. Let them send more soldiers and officers to the headquarters. With them will also be more supplies...”

“...and then we repeat this again,” the chief smiled.

“Until they decide to abandon our world rather than waste the money it takes to train, send, and feed their troops,” Yudishthira finished the concept.

“Once they leave, we can truly begin to heal our wounds, White Asp.”

The chief and the others stood straight and saluted him, crossing their right arm diagonally across their chests, their last two fingers curled.

Yudishthira stood up and returned the gesture.

“Let me summon the Third...until tonight, comrades.”

Yudishthira was finally left alone. The footsteps grew distant until he could not hear them at all.

He leaned on the flimsy wall behind him. His eyes began to well up. He turned around and silently cried his tears into it.

Karna was sitting beside the lake for hours. His bored visage suggested that he would have preferred something else to occupy his time.

He sniffed indignantly at his rudimentary piece of metal with a string attached as it hung deep into the water.

“I bet I could cast a spell that would just have the creatures hop into our laps.”

The soldier sitting next him said nothing.

Karna turned to look at him. The soldier had long hair with a dirty gray sheen to it, his face with wrinkles and tough skin. His yellow cape had a skull brooch, but it was tattered at the ends from being worn so much without any care.

“I said I bet I could cast a spell that would just have the creatures hop into our laps so we wouldn’t have to sit here like morons with a stick in our hand,” he repeated loud and obnoxiously.

‘A stick in our hand...that sounds like something Arjuna would say,’ Karna chuckled at the hidden sexual meaning he just recognized.

Still, the soldier said nothing. His eyes were closed.

‘Is he sleeping?’

A snore escaped into the air.

“Cossack, are you sleeping?!” Karna yelled.

Cossack reacted as though someone had physically jostled him awake. He blinked and his pupilless eyes looked surprisingly at the Dhmk with several locks of white hair draped across his head from his crest.

“Did you feel something?” Cossack said as he yawned. He stretched his arms behind his back.

“No, and if you managed to fall asleep, you haven’t either,” Karna decided.

He turned his head away and focused his eyes on the water. He mumbled a spell in the runic language Hagar had taught him. Within seconds, a two-headed eel launched into the sky and fell neatly into his lap. He turned with a smug smile on his face towards Cossack.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Cossack said, “because there’s no way I am going to eat an animal with a head for an ass.”

Karna frowned. “Gee, you make it sound so good.”

He turned back to the water. Smirking, he quickly got to his feet and moved away from Cossack.

“Did I hurt your feelings? You are way too sensitive, you know that?” Cossack moaned.

Forty eels with heads for asses pummeled Cossack into the earth.

“You didn’t hurt my feelings, but I’m pretty sure you feel hurt,” Karna sneered, pleased that his magical practical joke worked so well.

“Eww eww eww, get them off me,” the hardened soldier whined. “Oh no, I think one just crawled into my pants!”

Cossack began to squirm on the ground while Karna could not help but laugh.

“You are such a sniveling tadpole, Cossack,” the panicking officer heard an old, post-menopausal voice cry. He felt the eel being pulled out from the crack of his behind. Sighing heavily with relief, he gathered up all of the eels into his arms as he stood up. He turned to thank his savior...

...Hagar’s scowling face greeted him.

Cossack’s scream and toss of the eels into the sky yielded forty of them slapping their bodies aimlessly on the ground.

“Karna, get back to the house. Your brother is looking for you.”

Karna looked at Cossack and smiled gently. He raised his thumb to the sky showing his appreciation for time spent. When Cossack gave a small nod, Karna quickly ran home.

“You look mad at me,” Cossack said to Hagar.

She stared at him. The only sound was the incessant flapping of eels.

Cossack gave a tiny smile, baring his fangs.

“I was just teaching him to fish...”

“A spell can do that.”

“What if one day he doesn’t have a spell to do something? What will he do?”

“He will build something with his magic to do it.”

“Really? Well, what if his magic can’t build something he needs?”

“His laboratory will.”

“What if he doesn’t have a lab, Hagar? What then?”

“He will steal someone’s lab,” she said through grit teeth. “Do I make myself clear?”

Cossack looked as though he was seriously pondering the question. His eyes were focused elsewhere, and his right finger tapped his chin. He then turned his gaze to Hagar.

“About what, again?”

“Uggh,” Hagar groaned as she stomped in a circle. ‘May as well give up trying to explain my motives to a simpleton,’ she reasoned. She looked around. “Where is Coba?”

A shrug was her answer.

“Yes, I know you taught Arjuna that, but I asked you where my Coba was!”

“Killing rodents?” he suggested.

“He better be,” she threatened, “or you will be fishing bait.”

She headed back to the house. “Put the eels back, will you?”

Cossack grumbled at her back.

“Put the eels back, will you?” he mimicked under his breath as he approached some. He took one in each hand, swung around, and slung them into the water.

“Oh ho ho, I can hardly wait for tonight,” he said with anticipation about the attack against Alliance headquarters as he flung two more eels into the water. Unfortunately, his foot slipped on some bank mud. He found himself headfirst in a filthy lake with the mutant eels.

‘Yup, I can hardly wait.’

Continued

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