In the 10,000 year war going on throughout the universe, there are too many who despise Zarkon's rule. But none will act on their hate, too scared of the consequences. The biggest rebelling force against the Galra to date are the Olympians. And thei...
Listen ya'll...I'm aro I don't know where this is going
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The day had been filled with looking at old files, dusting off boxes of papers, and looking at which squads were still capable of flying. A lot of them were in the same position as the three Olympians in the group. Retiring after a mission took out almost half their team and replacing them felt wrong.
Most of the files were hard to read for her shaking eyes. Eventually, they had fallen into a system. Keith reading the papers out loud, Haylie placing markers on the map where Trip told her to, and Harron gliding in and out of the room when things had to be taken care of outside of the hut. All in all, it was a boring day. But it was progress. Now they had more teams to disperse into the fight.
But when the next morning came, Trip was all too happy to finally be able to leave and appear normal. Despite not feeling like it. Her head had a constant thump in the back of her skull, her eyes didn't react well to bright light, and the cut on her arm stung when she flexed. Haylie gave her the clear to at least walk around the town, though, to make sure people knew she was still in charge by making an appearance again.
She started that appearance by giving Keith an escort to the pod just as the sun began to rise. With her red cloak on, much heavier than she remembered it being last, and the three markings on her forehead, she could almost convince herself that these last few weeks had been a dream. That there was no Voltron, that they weren't about to make a move against Zarkon himself. That things were her kind of normal.
And then she exited her room, and she saw Keith. Standing by the door of the hut, his marmora blade in his hands. Walking proof that it was all real.
He didn't see her approaching. Or, if he did, he chose to ignore her. When she got close enough, she decided to pull him from whatever thoughts were filling his mind about the blade he was staring at.
"Will you tell anyone else?" She asks. The boy in his red patched jacket jumps. He hadn't seen her coming, she realized. He had been lost in his own head, "about the blade? What it means?"
He looks from her to the black metal. It looked even darker without the lighting of the high sun. Almost like a void that would swallow what it touched, only seen in the darkness by the purple lighting that was new to its features. It hadn't stopped glowing since he had "awakened it" as Kolivan had said. He'd had to extend it's cloth to cover the markings that were clearly Galra from other eyes. He only let the cloth slip when Trip was around.
"I don't know," he admits and then shakes his head, "I mean, eventually I'll have to."
"Start with someone you trust," Trip offers, "just one person at a time is enough."
Keith covers the purple markings again, wrapping the cloth tightly before putting the blade back against his hip, where his bayard usually rested. He seemed to have traded it in for his own weapon at some point. Once its secure and comfortably where it should be, he gives Trip his full attention.
