Chapter Text
Pidge was 100% fed up with being on Planet Qiolea and their band of quiznaking jackass diplomats.
There was just something entirely too shifty about the Qiolean diplomats and their finicky king, who not only placed restrictions on their travels and tour of the castle to one general area, but also fielded off questions he deemed too invasive of their privacy.
That in and of itself was suspect, especially considering they were in negotiations with Allura to pool their resources and possibly join the Voltron alliance to fight against Galra forces that still existed on many planets. The war may have been won, but that didn’t mean there weren’t still insurgents littering the universe, and the remaining Galra forces had made it their mission to bring their empire back to its former glory. And yet, the Qioleans had been difficult throughout the entire talks, shutting down most things that Allura had been trying to say.
“We just don’t want any of our men to become… casualties of war.” King Qylt gave a pointed look at Shiro, or more specifically, Shiro’s arm and then his face. “I’m sure you understand.”
Anyone who didn’t know Shiro wouldn’t be able to recognise the brief look of murder that snapped through his gaze before he rectified it, but Pidge had been looking for it, and she had to suppress her own desire to yell at the king. These noble Qioleans were extremely annoying, and the king’s selfish and callous dismissal was certainly setting the precedent for what kind of reception they’d gotten while staying here.
“Our Black Paladin actually was held prisoner by the Galra and experimented on mercilessly. What you see is an unprovoked result of allowing the Galra to roam free in the universe.”
That made some of the diplomats look away in shame and slight embarrassment at their king’s rude choice of words without knowing the full situation. At least some of them seemed more decent. But the king’s bored look remained on his indifferent face, and he preened at the feathers on his arm, stubborn and unwilling to admit his wrong.
What an ass.
Pidge started to scowl, but a gentle reproaching look from Shiro in her direction had her relaxing her features into something more neutral again.
“And I assure you, your Highness,” Allura pressed with that polite albeit tightlipped smile that Pidge recognised as her patience wearing thin. Her tone wasn’t clipped per se, but it was getting there and Pidge knew it was just about that time when Shiro would start taking over the speaking. That meant this was almost over. She didn’t know why she’d been asked to come along if nothing of this venture had anything to do with tech. “The goal of our alliance is not as a military force. We are not seeking to create a militia to battle the Galra head on. Voltron will shoulder the brunt of the fight in order to keep it away from citizens of planets. What you choose to offer is your decision and your decision alone.”
“We simply wish to gather information,” Shiro continued for her, his tone soft, yet firm. Allura cast him a subtle look of thanks. “We hope to establish a more connected base of different planets that can help us coordinate our efforts better in order to stop the reign of the Galra once and for all. As a paladin of Voltron, I promise you Voltron can protect you and your planet more readily if we can execute strategies based on knowledge of the Galra behaviours in this quadrant of space. We can also provide you with resources of any kind should you require them.”
Shiro’s calm voice and charismatic manner of speaking and inciting confidence definitely swayed some diplomats to their side, especially some of the female bird-human-hybrid looking Qioleans, who were definitely showing interest.
(Although judging by the look some of them were giving Shiro, Pidge didn’t think they were as interested in joining the alliance as they were in joining themselves with some certain part of Shiro).
“Hmm well. We haven’t suffered from the Galra occupying this quadrant. So I don’t really believe protection is a necessity. Our military tech is the most advanced in space after all.” The king puffed up in pride, looking at them haughtily with his beak. He gestured around his grand, gold encrusted palace to them. “And I’m pretty sure we have plenty resources. I don’t think we need your scraps.”
Pidge had to physically dig her fingernails into her palm to keep from retorting that he was an utter and complete piece of shit moron. What the hell was wrong with this king? Even Shiro was getting frustrated—though he was a master of hiding it—and it took Slav-like efforts to get their fearless, patient leader flustered and annoyed.
“Extra protection doesn’t hurt,” Shiro said simply, folding his hands on the table. A stray beam of light caught the metal of his prosthetic and it glinted harshly, bringing everyone’s attention to it like an ominous reminder of the lengths the Galra were willing to go to in order to succeed in their mission. “Because even the best of defences might not be enough when your enemies see you as a means to an end.”
An uneasy silence fell over the room, and Pidge shouted take that! in her mind, loving the fact that Shiro was manipulating the people in the room into wanting to join by using their fears against them by using what he’d gone through as an example. Shiro’s unassuming, calm nature made it really easy to overlook just how devious and cunning he could be when he wanted to be.
“W-well, we have plenty of time to discuss this after the banquet during our congressional meeting.” The king stood up suddenly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. All the king’s subjects hurried to stand up as well, looking at him in confusion at his sudden desire to leave. “Oh, but, I would rather it just be on a need to know basis for some people. I’m sure you understand.”
His unimpressed glance towards Pidge made it clear that he was saying she wasn’t invited to the negotiations. That was fine by her. She had no interest in sitting through a long, dull meeting where the king shot down all of their ideas and they struggled to keep a poker face. She honestly still didn’t understand why she’d been made to come while Hunk, Keith, and Lance were allowed to chill in the capitol city before the banquet. Keith being a representative of the Blade of Marmora made sense, even if he was an anti-social grump. Hell, even Lance would have been a better choice since he definitely had his looks to use as leverage.
“Very well.” Allura stood gracefully from her chair with a radiant smile that exuded warmth. It was such a 180 from her prior irritation that Pidge had to do a double take. “Take all the time you need, your Highness.”
“Please take time to enjoy our luxurious gardens and rest. We will prepare the finest meal possible for the banquet.”
“We thank you.”
They were dismissed from the room and left the meeting, a hypothetical cloud hanging over their heads at their failure to proceed with their efforts. Shiro excused himself from the two of them to go try to come up with a new strategy to get Qiolea to loosen their reigns on their privacy and open up to the idea of an alliance, but Pidge wasn’t so sure this was even worth the effort anymore. Pidge knew Shiro hated all the number crunching and data analysis and strategizing on the fly as much as Allura did, but he was being generous, especially because a dark look had settled in the princess’s gaze, and she looked, simply put, like she was going to shank the next person who talked to her.
Allura was so good with her diplomacy that sometimes Pidge forgot she was still fairly young and impatient at times and that she’d been thrown into an unfamiliar role that she’d had to teach herself. Working around impasses like this were probably things she’d never really had to deal with before. People usually jumped at the chance to work with her as soon as they caught sight of her face. Then she spoke all queen-like and cool and confident and that was all it took for them to be putty in her hands.
“Pidge,” Allura said calmly, though the undercurrent in her tone drew Pidge immediately out of her own thoughts. She stopped in the middle of the hallway, glancing around discreetly before turning to Pidge with a serious look on her face.
“Allura~” Pidge responded playfully, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, her hands clasped behind her back.
“I want to run something by you. Something’s not right with King Qylt. I’ve never seen someone so adamantly against joining the alliance on the basis that they didn’t need protection. What an utterly moronic and ridiculous notion.” It was pretty stupid. There’d been planets who’d turned down joining for reasons like fear of punishment from the Galra, not enough resources from poverty, recovering from previous battles, and more. Those were valid reasons. Not wanting protection sounded dumb as fuck. “He’s hiding something. Coran told me Qiolea was known for ambitious and controversial military and government practices and experimentations on their people in the past.”
“What, like super soldiers?! Like Captain America?”
“Who?” Allura frowned in confusion. “Was he a leader of your Earth?”
Pidge waved off her own comment, forgetting for a second that Alteans and Altea were extremely similar to humans and Earth, but they didn’t have the same media. “Comic book super hero, sorry, nevermind. Go on.”
“Right. They ran experimentations and did other unethical things that weren’t viewed well and ultimately alienated Qiolea from other planets. It’s only recently that Qiolea started to associate with other planets’ alliances again, but it’s been tentative. I heard rumours that the relationship between Qiolea and other planets is very tense.” Allura rubbed her chin with a pensive look. “I’m suspicious. An isolated nation would be the perfect grounds for invasion by the Galra, especially one that has ample natural resources that could aid their empire. Look what the Galra did to the Balmera. I find it hard to believe that Qiolea somehow managed to avoid Galra occupation, especially considering their planet is roughly near the central hub of Galra communications in this quadrant.”
Pidge’s eyes widened. It was starting to make total sense why Allura brought her along now. “Is that why you brought me here? To do recon?”
“I had a feeling this meeting would be difficult.” Allura nodded, rubbing at her arm in subdued embarrassment and glancing down both sides of the hallway once again to make sure they didn’t have company who might overhear. “Call it a hunch. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but you’re our resident hacker, and I’m way past the point of negotiating fairly. I want to know what he is up to. Shiro agrees that we should take pre-emptive measures in case negotiations go poorly tonight.”
Pidge grinned deviously. She was all for this secret mission. “So what do you want me to do? Infiltrate central command and steal some data? Do you want me to grab some weapons here and there for Hunk to dismantle and study?”
“If you feel you need to. Try not to leave a trail though. Any and all information will be appreciated.” With an affirmative nod, Pidge started to turn to go, but Allura took her arm lightly to stop her. “And Pidge. Be careful. And please be as discreet as possible. This impasse is already tenuous, and I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if anyone were to find out a paladin of Voltron was snooping around their records.”
“Don’t worry. Discretion is totally my middle name.”
…
Okay, so that had totally been a lie and discretion was most decidedly not even close to her middle name, considering most recon missions she’d done had ended up with some sort of explosion or huge destruction that she’d caused.
(To be fair though, it was usually Lance’s fault. Occasionally Hunk).
But this was the real deal. She couldn’t wait to go rub it in their faces that while they’d been wasting their afternoon gallivanting in the capitol city, she’d gotten to go on an espionage 007 type mission on her own.
But Allura was right in that Pidge couldn’t screw this up because too much was riding on it.
It didn’t take her long to get into central command. As she expected, the king was so pompous and arrogant that his security practices were amateur and barely enforced at best, probably because he didn’t believe anyone would dare betray him. He even used a normal character input keypad for password protection, one of the most easily hacked types of protection to exist. All it took was Pidge hiding on a beam of the ceiling and waiting and watching for a guard personnel to punch in the code and slink inside. When she was sure the coast was clear, she floated quickly to the ground, and tucked and rolled seamlessly right into the room before the doors shut. She immediately darted behind a large cabinet and crouched, making note of the room she was in.
There was a large super screen running rapid figures in the centre, glowing green from the energy travelling through the cords. Keyboards surrounded it all around, but one particular keyboard had a bunch of other buttons and input functions, and Pidge figured that had to be the main one. There was a bird-man guard typing something on that keyboard, and the other guard walked up to him. They spoke in hushed tones, but she didn’t get any sense of urgency or alarm from their conversation. After a few more words exchanged and some laughs, both guards began to make their way out of the room. The guard whose entrance allowed her passage hit some switch on the wall which set what she assumed was some sort of alarm and then satisfied, he did a once over of the room, cut the lights and left.
Pidge immediately left her hiding place and headed to the main keyboard. She plugged in her cord to hack and started downloading the information and files in the database, skimming the info as it flowed past her face. She was definitely glad she’d updated her translation databases so that if certain previously translated written languages were similar enough to the new, unknown ones she encountered, it would mark the connections and use that other language as a basis for the translation. Not a perfect system, but it was useful at times to make quick connections. Qiolea was not in her language database, but it was apparently close enough in composition to Skavurian that she was able to get a rough makeup of the data she was pulling.
Allura had been right to be suspicious.
There were a lot of locked files Pidge would have to sift through properly in her lab to confirm, but from the loose files that leaked, it looked like they were developing dangerous weapons and running experiments to enhance the capabilities of their people. Not only that, but most of the experiments they were testing were all connected to something called Plox 10-B8. What was most interesting about this Plox thing when she tried to find more on it was that it had some of the most intense file protection mechanisms she’d ever seen in her life, even more intense than some of the Galra protection. And that was definitely grounds for investigation.
Why was the king blasé about his general central command, yet had so much security on one file that it was almost overkill?
Well, it didn’t matter. Pidge was going to steal the info anyway. She set to work changing the codes as best as she could with her lack of knowledge of their language or database configuration, using her tech to probe right through the key and unlock the information she needed. She ran a scan to make sure there weren’t any hidden booby traps or trigger switches that would alert someone that there was an intruder. She found three and made quick work of disabling them before running the scan a couple more times to make sure. Once she was positive there wasn’t some half buried trigger, she finally opened the file.
Pidge frowned as she skimmed the half-translated info on the screen. From what she could read, Plox was classified as an experiment to create a biochemical weapon, but what it could do was largely unknown because it hadn’t been finished or tested on anyone yet. It hadn’t been manufactured from only their own resources, but there wasn’t any info on what they’d used to compose it. In fact, whoever was the engineer of this Plox thing had just made the weapon without considering the chemical composition at all. Pidge was by no means a chemist—that wasn’t her niche or area of expertise—but even she knew that if you mixed a bunch of chemicals, some seriously horrible things could happen.
She was curious now. She was certain she could figure out what was in it if she could get a sample of it and take it to her lab. Technically, she had all the information she needed to present proof to Allura, but Pidge was in too deep to stop short of figuring out what the deal was with Plox 10-B8. Her curiosity had been piqued and she wanted to get a look at this thing. Another quick scan told her that like their other military experiments, it was located in a lab in the basement of the castle.
She quickly stored the information and closed out her programs before heading out of the command. She didn’t bother trying to sneak through the main halls and used a vent she’d traced would lead her right to the basement. She used the map on her armour tech to follow the right path through the castle.
When she reached it, she stared out of the grates into the darkened room. There was no one in here either, and she figured it must have been because most everyone was preparing for the banquet for the honoured guests.
All the better for her.
She pushed open the grate and flew out, landing on her feet in the absolutely huge lab. Her jaw dropped slightly as she gazed around, looking at the sheer amount of vats and pumps and products and things hanging all over the walls and on conveyor belts. Experiments was an understatement. This was a factory. They were manufacturing an enormous amount of weapons and considering there was no war going on in their quadrant, this was extremely unsettling.
Pidge glanced around before finally seeing a corridor of glass leading to a door. It was something that could be easily missed since it was kind of hidden behind some of the vats. But most importantly, it had a command input beside the door.
“What are the chances my man Plox is behind that door?”
Pidge raced through the hallway and hacked the door with her tech, once again scanning to make sure she didn’t trip a silent alarm. The door slid open with a soft whir. She scurried into the doorway and descended the stairs that took her deeper in the ground. The further down she went, the colder the place became and by the time she got to the bottom, the air was so frigid she had to turn on her suit’s thermal protection and was blowing out little tufts of cold air with each breath.
To her surprise, this room was significantly smaller and all it contained was a single empty looking, capped, clear vial in an open metal casing on a stand in the middle of the room. There were no locks on it, and Pidge approached it carefully, frowning as she reached out to pick up the glass vial. It was very hot to the touch and glowed pink, an ominous hot pink that she instantly recognised.
“Wait… this is… this is Galra nanotechnology!” she exclaimed in disbelief.
It had to be. She could recognise the weird hot pink heat from the Galra anywhere. Which meant that the Qiolean’s weapon was infused with Galra nanotechnology. It made perfect sense why they weren’t too eager to join the alliance now. The king was either benefitting from the Galra or working for the Galra. That bred the question of why he’d wanted to meet with the Voltron crew in the first place if he was working with the Galra. Was this a set up?
Either way, whatever was going on, she needed to tell the others immediately. If they were about to be ambushed, they needed to prepare.
As she was thinking this, the vial continued to grow rapidly hotter and hotter, until it felt like it was burning her skin through her gloves. Pidge cried out, releasing her grip on it immediately as her hand throbbed and felt like someone had set flame to it to melt the skin on her hand. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt Green probing at her, wondering if she should run to Pidge’s aid, but Pidge assuaged her lion’s fears.
And then realised she’d let go of the vial.
By the time she’d dropped her gaze to find it, it was already making contact with the ground, shattering into a thousand little pieces. The pink glow disappeared almost immediately and the dust settled as the sound of glass breaking echoed in the chamber.
“Oh quiznak…” In horror, Pidge dropped down to her knees, rushing to clean up the mess she’d made. Only a few seconds into her mad dash to pick up the glass to store the remains in a safety pouch did she remember all her chemistry lessons in school and quickly put on a mask to shield her face from whatever just had been released. Thankfully, she was able to use the 3D tech in her suit to make a fake replica of the glass vial that she then placed in the casing. It looked identical enough, but there was no pink glow.
Jesus. And Allura had told her to be discreet. Breaking something so huge was decidedly not being discreet. She should have just left it alone.
Pidge made sure she didn’t leave anything else on the ground and rushed up the stairs two at a time to get out of the basement. She did a quick run through to make sure there was no one who’d come in there while she’d been downstairs before she flew back into her vent, pulling the grate shut behind her feet. She didn’t dare slow her pace until she was back in the main hallway of the castle, and even then, she went straight out and to the Castle of Lions perched outside, still going at her insane speed.
When she burst through the main lounge, Hunk and Keith were mid conversation, but stopped talking and stared at her with shocked looks at her wild eyes, hair in disarray, red face, and heavy breathing.
“Pidge, are you okay?” Hunk asked in concern, standing up to try to steady her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
She stopped him with a hand. If she had a contaminant on her person, Hunk didn’t need to get it on him too. “I need a shower. Stat. Keith, get Allura immediately and tell her I need to talk to her now!”
She continued on her mad dash to their own castle’s lab. She was so glad they had thought to install a shower in there with all the oil spills and grease stains that she and Hunk tended to have through their work. She near ripped off everything she had on her person and tossed it all in a containment unit, threw her gloves and the pouch with glass shards into a different containment unit, and then went immediately to a shower stall. Pidge turned the water on full heat and hopped in. It was uncomfortably hot and her skin felt like it was taking a beating, but she needed to decontaminate herself and she scrubbed at her skin and through her hair vigorously, making sure she got into every nook and cranny, no part of her skin left unwashed. By the time she was done, she felt like a newborn baby, her skin pink and slightly sensitive.
When that was done, she hopped in the disinfecting chamber, closing her eyes as the gas chamber released the chemicals they used when they needed to remove toxins from their person from more harrowing missions on dangerous planets. She repeated it again, just to make sure, and then ran the scan to see if any toxins were still on her body. The scan came back negative and finally, she stepped out.
Only when she was done did Pidge finally release the breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. She wrapped a towel around herself and padded out of the shower station, tying her hair up in a wet, sloppy bun on the top of her head. She wasn’t feeling any kind of effects from what happened in the Qiolea castle, but that didn’t mean she should let her guard down. Who knew what she’d encountered that was in the vial? The most concerning thing was the fact that the glass shards hadn’t glowed pink anymore, but she couldn’t think of any theories as to why that was that didn’t end with her believing that she’d somehow gotten it on her. Or worse, in her.
When she walked back in the lab, Lance was leaning against one of the tables with a half disassembled Galran sentry, idly picking up and observing certain pieces that were extremely beat up and burned that Hunk was trying to salvage for parts. She froze in place, startled. She’d forgotten to get some clothes to change into.
“Pidge, you good? Hunk said you were freaking…” Lance tapered off when he looked over his shoulder and saw what she was wearing. (Or rather, wasn’t wearing). Silence reigned in the room. He didn’t react outright—in fact, his expression looked slightly strained—but she also didn’t miss the way his gaze drifted briefly away from her face.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer…” Pidge grumbled, but turned and started inputting commands in the containment units for chemical analysis if only to hide the fact her cheeks had grown hot.
Rarely did the paladins see each other outside of their casual clothes or paladin armour, so it was even more awkward that he’d caught her in a towel of all things. And this certainly wasn’t going to help the weird undercurrent of tension that had started to seep into their friendship about a deca-phoeb ago.
Lance swallowed hard, shifting and staring at the ground while he rubbed the back of his neck. The tips of his ears were a bit red. “Uh… right. Are you okay? Hunk told me you ran in looking like the Grim Reaper was chasing you.”
“Just a recon mission that didn’t go the way I needed it to. It’s not a big deal.” At least she hoped. Then she noticed Lance was wearing a nice pressed suit and frowned in confusion. “What’s with the suit? And where’d you get it from?”
Come to think of it, Keith and Hunk had also been wearing suits when she’d first run in.
Lance grinned, posing in a way he clearly thought was suave. “I charmed one of the Qiolean tailors to fashion it for me for the banquet. Their sense of style is actually very similar to the ones on Earth. How do I look?”
She never thought she’d see the day when Lance “I’m all about that chill lifestyle” McClain would actually wear a tie, but she couldn’t really compose any real thoughts because it was a deep blue that brought out the colour of his gorgeous eyes and he looked way too hot in that suit than he had any business being. She wouldn’t be surprised if the girls he probably would flirt with tonight ate up all his attention. She must have been staring too long because suddenly Lance looked entirely too smug, and she knew she’d been caught ogling him. Dammit.
He ran a hand slowly through his hair, giving her a look that made her heartbeat jump. “Take a picture; it’ll last longer.”
“I-I was only staring because you look like a dork,” Pidge stuttered lamely, readjusting her towel and wishing once again that she’d thought to grab some clothes because she couldn’t hide any of her blushing on her upper chest or neck.
“…Liar,” he replied softly, a small smile tugging on his lips as he pushed off the lab table and strolled leisurely over to her. Pidge froze in place, eyes a bit wide as she tilted her head up, and wondering what he was about to do when he took off his suit jacket and gently wrapped it around her shoulders to cover her up.
His cologne smelled really good. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He tugged slightly on the lapels to cover her better, but it brought her a step closer to him, and they stared at each other, smiles dropping slowly as they blinked at each other in the quiet of the lab.
A million thoughts were racing through her mind, but they all vanished when the door to the lab opened with a whoosh and Hunk, Allura, and Keith barged in. Pidge and Lance hopped away from each other as if the other was on fire, both their faces dusted with pink. Judging by Keith’s raised brow and Hunk’s wide, twinkling eyes—oh no; he was definitely going to meddle—they’d definitely seen whatever it was that had been happening. Even Allura was trying to hide a little smile behind her hand.
“Where are your clothes, Pidge?” Keith questioned slowly in a tone that implied he would never stop teasing her about this situation.
“In a containment unit because they’re contaminated by some unknown Galra weapon.” That stopped the humour in the situation right quick, and all of them stared at her in shocked but rapt attention, waiting for her to explain. Pidge cleared her throat, getting rid of the little tickle in there. “The Qiolea were using Galra nanotechnology in order to fashion a biochemical weapon called Plox 10-B8. There was not much information on it, so I’m not sure all that’s in it or what they were trying to do, but I gathered all the information I could about it and I’ve started a scan on my clothes and the shards of glass.” Pidge turned to Allura. “You were right. They were experimenting with different methods of weapons production. Once I sift through their intel, I’ll be able to figure out exactly what is going on.”
“So they’re working with the Galra?” Lance questioned in concern. “What was the point of inviting us here then? To attack us?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know that for sure. Maybe figuring this weapon out might help us to ascertain its effects. All I know is that we do have to be careful. Stay cautious tonight. We might really be in danger.”
“Good work, Pidge,” Allura said, her brows knit in apprehension. “Did you manage to take a sample of the biochemical weapon?”
Pidge grimaced slightly at the question, coughing a few times into her hand. “Umm, that’s the thing. It reacted when I picked it up somehow and burned my hand and I kinda dropped it and broke it, so I don’t know exactly where it is, but it should be on my clothes which I put in the containment unit so it’s taken care of.”
Keith frowned, his lips a bit pursed in distaste. “But you didn’t actually see it?”
“…It evaporated.”
There were a few beats of silence where they all stared at her sceptically and concerned, and Pidge wished she wasn’t under so much scrutiny, especially when barely wearing anything.
Then Hunk spoke up. “So… what if you inhaled the chemical though?”
“Well I thought about that too, but I’m allergic to basically everything, right? So I’d probably have a strong reaction if I ingested it somehow, and I haven’t had one yet, so I don’t think I breathed it in.”
“There are lots of ifs and probablys in that statement, Pidge,” Lance said uneasily. “Maybe we should be figuring out a cure or something, just in case.”
“I’m so sorry.” Allura sighed, rubbing her forehead in exhaustion. “I should have never asked you to do this, Pidge.”
“No, you did the right thing.” She waved off their concerns in annoyance. “Look, I don’t think anything happened to me, and even if something did, it literally hasn’t changed anything about me as of right now. The Plox weapon was still not fully completed yet, so there’s a good chance it had no effects.”
They still looked unconvinced. Plus Hunk and Lance passed each other these odd looks that she definitely did not miss. She wished they would stop fussing over this.
“How about this? I go through and unlock all the files I stole, finish the chemical analysis on my stuff and then me and Hunk can reverse engineer the Plox to find out whatever shit is in it and figure out some sort of vaccine or whatever if there’s an infectious agent.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, rubbing the front of her neck and clearing her throat. “The banquet starts in less than a varga, so don’t you guys think we should start moving to get ready? With a king like Qiolea’s he’ll definitely take personal offence if we arrive late. Plus Shiro’s there on his own talking to people of the court, so let’s stop worrying about this for now.”
“…Fine,” Allura agreed at length, but her expression belied her lack of concession, “but only because you bring up a good point about the banquet. But we’re not done discussing this. And if you even for a second feel like something is wrong, you let us know immediately.”
She was so tempted to say ‘yes mom’ just to be patronising, but she knew her friends’ concerns were very founded. Making contact with some unknown species or substance could potentially be dangerous in a universe full of unknowns.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s just hurry up and get ready.” She took Lance’s jacket off and handed it back to him as she walked past them to get to her room and get her clothes to wear for the banquet.
…
It never ceased to amaze Pidge how much some parts of the universe reminded her of 18th century England with all the banquets and the live musicians and the ballroom dancing. It was actually kind of cool that there were such common customs, even lightyears away. It made her a little homesick for Earth in some ways.
She coughed once to clear her throat, then started looking around for her fellow friends. Hunk was entertaining some of the chefs in an engaging manner, gesticulating with his hands while they nodded in rapt attention, jotting down notes while he spoke. Shiro was in a deep conversation with one of the diplomats, though by the discomfort in his expression, she wondered what was being said to him. She made a note to avoid their conversation because she really did not want to get caught up in whatever was going on there.
Pidge found Keith standing by the wall, partially hidden from the crowd of people. He looked very distinguished in his suit too—although the word she would specifically use was pretty—an unassuming charm to him that she knew other females in attendance noticed, considering how many kept glancing in his direction. While Lance had a very in your face, raw kind of outspoken attractiveness to him, Keith’s was subdued and mysterious.
She made her way over to him, trying not to step on the hem of the gown Allura had loaned her for the evening. Coran had done his best to shorten the hem the night before, but at the end of the day, it was still longer than comfortable for her and she’d had to take several measures to make sure she didn’t fall flat on her face. At least it was a teal colour and not white, otherwise she was sure she would have looked like she was wearing a wedding dress.
“You look uncomfortable.” She took a spot leaning against the wall beside Keith. Her voice came out a little more hoarse than intended, and she cleared her throat. “Who are you hiding from?”
“I’ve never worn one of these penguin suits before.” He pulled at the tie cropped close to his neck uncomfortably to loosen it up some. Keith was scowling as usual, but gave her a look out of the corner of his eye that told her he wasn’t particularly mad about anything. “And everyone.”
She snorted, then winced a bit when the action made her throat hurt. “You’re such an emo. Don’t you ever let loose?”
“Someone has to be security and keep watch.” He shrugged and slipped his hands in his suit pockets, jutting his chin out towards the party-goers enjoying themselves. “People are drunk, Pidge.”
“Nah, that’s not it.” She jabbed his side with a grin, knowing he was just goofing. “Two left feet? Scared to dance with some birds? What’s your affliction?”
“You caught me. I’m a bad dancer…” he drawled, shifting just out of the way of her finger. “Why are you over here? Shouldn’t you be out there accepting dances from the diplomats? Or you know… dancing with your loverboy Lance?”
He wasn’t subtle at all with his prodding and just as she figured, he was smirking in amusement, watching her with a raised brow.
“He’s busy flirting right now, so I’ll pass.” It bothered her, but Lance had a job to do. He was disarming the female diplomats by lavishing them with his attention which would make it much easier for Allura and Shiro to do their jobs. She still thought some of his lines were atrocious, but he’d admittedly gotten better through the years plus there was something inherently charming about his goofy efforts. “Besides, I’m not going to dance with Lance. The last thing I want is for this whole evening to feel like that junior debutante ball my nonna forced me to go to back before I’d started at the garrison.”
“You were a debutante?” Keith looked comically surprised. “You must have been a nightmare. What’s the story behind that?”
“It’s a story for another day.” She coughed into her elbow, clearing her throat again when the tickle returned a bit sharply. The only one she’d told in full about that disastrous event was Lance, and he’d laughed his ass off so hard he’d snorted milk out through his nose and she’d decided maybe it would be best to keep it to herself since the boys were idiots. “But basically, a really nerdy girl had a crush on a popular guy her grandma had to pay to be her date.”
And at the time couldn’t dance since she’d skipped all the lessons and had gotten sick from the shrimp she’d eaten that night and thrown up all over his suit and shoes. On the plus side, that night she’d learned she was allergic to shrimp and most shellfish.
“Ouch. If it makes you feel better though, Lance came over here a while ago whining about you talking to everyone but him.”
She narrowed her eyes as she scrutinised him. Sometimes it was hard to tell when Keith was joking or not because he’d perfected the art of the deadpan snarker, but since he had walked in on her and Lance chatting earlier in the lab and could have been teasing her, she was less inclined to believe him.
“You’re full of sh—”
Pidge didn’t finish her sentence because her throat closed up suddenly in the middle of her word and she erupted in a fit of coughing, dipping her head into her elbow as she tried to clear up the sudden constriction. She straightened up to take a breath but her lungs seized in her chest and she started coughing all over again, stronger than before. The tickle in her throat tightened, feeling like there was some heavy knot that was only growing larger and blocking her airway. Pidge grimaced, rasping a bit for breath and then coughing again when her lungs seized again.
Keith watched her warily as he gently patted her back when she doubled over. “Do you want me to get you some water?”
She nodded rapidly, between some more coughs, and Keith walked away to get her some liquid quickly. She tried to clear her throat for a second, but then her throat closed off completely and she gagged, suddenly unable to take in any air. Her eyes widened in fear and she rubbed at her neck, trying to loosen up the sharp knot caught in her throat as she rasped silently. This felt like one of her anaphylactic reactions when she encountered an allergen.
Had she eaten shellfish and not known?
Pidge?
Her throat was constricted so tight; it felt like sandpaper and she could do nothing but choke on her lost voice, failing to inhale any air. Her lungs squeezed painfully tight in her chest as no air entered in her lungs and tears pooled in her eyes. She couldn’t even make a desperate cry for air. She tripped forward and tumbled to her knees, clawing at her throat, black patches growing in her gaze. It felt like someone had a vice grip around her neck and refused to loosen up. Her lips trembled and in horror, she realised they had briefly glowed hot pink. It was like drowning without water, despite the fact that there was ample air here for her to breathe. Her lungs were on fire from lack of air, pinching so tightly that her vision was starting to blur.
“Pidge!”
Pidge!
“Pidge! Hang on!”
What the fuck is happening to her?!
She could hear several people calling out for her, but she couldn’t respond and she could barely see around the curtain of her ruined bun. Was this really the end for her? Dying in the middle of some stupid banquet on a planet full of self-centred jerkwads? She’d been hoping whenever she did meet her end, it would be gallantly in a difficult battle where she managed to at least stop a major threat before succumbing to injuries. She also didn’t think she’d end up dying at roughly 17 years old, and barely having lived a life after roughly 3 years of piloting in space.
Fingers shaking, she gave up, dropping her hands by her side and letting her body fall sideways. Someone caught her before she hit the ground, but she barely registered it as her entire body shut down, shuddering in pain. Her eyes slid shut as her consciousness dimmed and she passed out.
Pidge!