shining like the stars

96

"That's the fourth patrol in the last half varga," Illianya said, holding her hand over her eyes as she stared up at the night sky. The dark arrowhead shapes of the sentry patrol flight were visible against the backdrop of Eaphus, casting dim illumination across its many satellites. "They're narrowing down the search grid. We can't stay here, we'll be discovered before long."

"If we move Yellow that'll bring down the entire fleet on us," Hunk said. "And, uh, not going to lie here – I'm not exactly the best fighter pilot in the whole galaxy."

They had long since put out the campfire, letting the creeping not-dark of night on the moon of Eaphus overtake them. The wings of Galra sentry drones had been sweeping lower and lower as the night wore on, the brief hum of the engines marking the passage of time. Illianya retreated from her vantage point back underneath the belly of the Yellow Lion, as it was now crouched as low to the ground as it could. That still left more than enough room for them both to walk upright. "We can't stay here," Illianya said again, and didn't sit.

"Are you suggesting we abandon Yellow?" Hunk said, affronted.

"It is preferable to being captured."

"I can't do that!" Hunk put his hand flat against the Yellow Lion's leg. "I'm not going to just let the Galra haul Yellow off like ... like some sort of trophy!" The thought of that was actually so distressing it caused a knot to form in Hunk's chest. "There's got to be a better plan."

"Unless you feel confidant that you can pilot us through whatever barricade the Galra fleet has constructed to ensnare us," Illianya said, her voice taking on a cold edge, "I see no other option. I am not waiting around to be taken prisoner." She turned away, staring out at the dark landscape.

"Well, the Galra can't come down to the surface of the moon itself anyway," Hunk said, folding his arms. "They can only send down the sentries."

"What?" Illianya half-turned to look at him, a frown on her face.

"Yeah," Hunk said. "Allura told us that there's something in the atmosphere here that makes it difficult for the Galra to breathe. Some sort of chemical that's already present in the atmosphere and yet doesn't affect the rest of us oxygenated beings." He leaned forward, arms still folded and shoulders slumping. "But I bet they could just wear their masks and be fine, like in space. But ... why haven't they done that already? When we were here earlier" he kept talking, more now to himself than Illianya, working out the problem verbally. "We didn't see a single Galra in any of the cities. Even though the waystation in orbit is a refueling point and entertainment arena. Why is that? Why wouldn't they bother to come down to the surface?"

"It isn't worth the risk?" Illianya said. "I don't see how that's relevant."

"But why isn't it worth the risk?" Hunk said. "Zarkon would have been here. The temples are connected to Voltron and he knows that."

"How would the Emperor of the Galra know that?" Illianya said, and Hunk gave her a weird look.

"Because he was a Paladin?"

"Of Voltron?"

Hunk blinked at her. "You didn't know that?"

Illianya shook her head sharply. "We knew that Zarkon was a close friend of King Alfor, and that he betrayed Voltron leading to the death of its Paladins, but..." Illianya covered her mouth with one hand. "To think that there was a non-Altean Paladin prior to your team..."

"Preeeeeetty sure that Alfor was the only Altean, actually," Hunk said, and Illianya stared at him. "Okay, um, but we'll deal with that later." Hunk snapped his fingers suddenly. "The temples!"