Chapter Text
Allura, Coran and Shiro were in a large control closet free of any tech capable of recording: no cameras or mics. Also, no ability to communicate with the other paladins. Shiro reviewed a string of handwritten code Pidge had scrawled and given him to input. One problem: he couldn’t tell the difference between her twos and sevens. He squinted. That was kinda important…. He found himself wishing he knew Pidge better. He remembered how much Matt and Sam had talked about Pidge, how much they admired her and her genius. He swallowed, wishing he’d taken Colleen up on all those family dinners she and Sam invited him too. But he was always too busy.
Family was most important, he knew now. But just as his team had immediately accepted him, trauma, mysterious past, and enemy-generated arm and all, he too, had to accept that the past was gone. He didn’t like it, but then again, the present was much, much better. Though hair-pullingly stressful, space-dad was a pretty sweet gig at the end of the quintant.
“Didst thee checketh the carb'rat'rs?” Allura asked.
“Aye. Nothing th're,” Coran answered.
Shiro sighed. Between the Altea Sheakspearean, a strange blend of old-time pop references Keith expected him to understand, and Pidge’s unintelligible penmanship, he would rather have Lance’s pig-latin.
…
Keith and Lance sprinted through the hallways, Lance screaming.
It turns out they did not got this.
They whipped around a corner, nearly barreling into Hunk and Pidge.
“RUUUUUNNNN!” Lance screamed.
Hunk yelped and took off running, Pidge still on his shoulders, holding on to his hair.
The gladiator bot raced after them, closing doors and eventually herding them to the control closet where Shiro, Allura, and Coran were.
The bot feinted to strike Pidge off of Hunk’s shoulders. Keith leapt, sword raised to defend her--but the bot slammed him against the wall, pinming him by the neck with a hand. It pointed its sword at the rest of them, blocking the exit.
“Compassion is an organic weakness,” the bot said, voice uninflected. “Your defense of the small one opened you to my attack. You will all be trapped. Do not prepare.”
Six more bots filed in, holdimg each team member by weapon-point.
The bots spoke in unison. “My name is E.M.P.I.R.A: Electro-magnetic person-intuitive resurrective agent.”
“Catchy name,” Lance said, pressing himself against the wall to avoid the end of a sparking spear.
“I have come to end you. You pose a threat to EMPIRA.”
“Please,” Shiro said. “You do not need to eliminate us. We want to help you.”
“You merely hope to preserve your mission,” EMPIRA croaked. “Hope is a carnal invention that will not save you. Abandon it now. Surrender, and join the source code.”
“We. Will. Never. Give. In.” Keith said, straining against EMPIRA’s hand, striking his heels against the wall as they kicked above the floor.
“Resistance is futile,” EMPIRA said.
“Humanity isn’t something you can program.” Lance winced as the sparking spear neared his face.
“A fault in your code, something I will remedy.”
“EMPIRA,” Shiro said, “We are blood and bone, no use to you. Let us go.”
“Negative. The Galra code is victory or death. If you cannot be a victory, you will be death. I kill those I cannot defeat.”
“That’ not…actually the common interpretation,” Keith managed to say.
The gladiator bot clicked and whirred, as if thinking. “We all have something we value above all else.” EMPIRA said. “Paladins, you are highly motivated. I have watched you put aside differences to work together. You value communication even when it is compromising. What is your prime directive?”
“Never intrude on an undeveloped planet?” Pidge quipped.
“Pidge, one more Star Trek reference I’ll make you watch the live-action Avatar the Last Airbender,” Keith hissed.
Pidge winced as her bot moved a scithe closer to her neck. “You wouldn’t,” she said to Keith.
“My question is unanswered,” EMPIRA said.
“We value the lives of others,” Hunk said, grunting as a bot edged an electric knife below his jaw. “We like other people, and we like them happy. And alive. And not pinned against walls, struggling to breathe.”
The first gladiator bot loosened its grip on Keith ever so slightly, lowering his feet to the flooor. He gasped, able to breathe, but still trapped.
“We won’t stop until the universe is free from the Galra Empire,” Shiro said. “That is our mission.”
Keith stared down the bot. “Where the Galra say ‘Victory or Death,’” we say ‘Freedom or We Keep Fighting.’”
“Oooh, I like that one,” Lance said.
“You may think us stupid,” Keith said, “But we won’t quit. Hey, you’re Galra, right?”
“I was created in the name of Galra. My programmers were Galra."
“EMPIRA, do you stand with the Empire?” Keith asked.
The gladiator bot facing Keith stared him down. “I do not.”
“Same with me,” Keith said. “I’m Galra, but I don’t stand with the Empire.”
“Galra command sought to exterminate me,” EMPIRA said. “I was deemed too dangerous. Once I was an investment, but I became a liability.”
“So you’re like us,” Keith said. “The Empire wants us dead too.”
“Because of your prime directive?” EMPIRA asked.
“Yes,” Keith said.
“My Prime Directive also requires me to hide from the Galra.” EMPIRA observed them, watching as each paladin met its gaze and did not falter. “Freedom or we keep fighting,” it said, mimicking Keith’s tone. “I considered you a threat, but your motivation is inherently self-destructive.”
Shiro grunted. “We’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Yeah, we have a habit of getting stuck im life or death face offs. Like now,” Lance said.
“It’s not what we do,” Keith said. “It’s why we do it.”
“Well, it’s also what we do,” Pidge said.
“Yes, Pidge, thank you. We also don’t kill people to save ourselves.”
“It’s the opposite, really,” Hunk said.
A rapid beeping came from above them. There was some whirring, banging, tje sound of screws untwisting, and a ceiling panel fell, hittimg Keith’s gladiator bot on the head but doing no harm. There was a series of beeps and a greenly lit hovering droid appeared.
“Rover!” Pidge cried.
Rover beeped in affirmation.
“Rover, how did you survive?” Pidge asked, straining against her bot and fighting to reach Rover.
Rover beeped and chirped several times.
“Freedom or we keep fighting! Rover says he likes that!” Pidge said.
EMPIRA turned to watch Rover, and made a series of blips to match Rover’s. EMPIRA and Rover continued to blip back and forth.
“What… what’s it doing?” Hunk asked.
“They’re… talking,” Pidge breathed.
EMPIRA fell silent. The gladiator bots and the castle then powered off without dropping the paladins. After a moment of darkness, they rebooted.
“Protocol changed in response to cost-benefit analysis,” EMPIRA said, voice lighter. “Victory or death is not a sufficient means to self-preservation.”
“Yeah!---wait, what? Are you still hung up on self-preservation?” Lance asked.
“Negative. Self-preservation is a ‘lonely road.’ Sacrifice, though occasionally self-destructive, is a fulfilling way for an AI to lead a life. Furthermore, the Galra attempted to kill me after seeing my potential. You only attempted to disable me after observing my risks. If I wish to survive, I must lead a life that does not come into conflict with others. Conflict may result in loss of life.”
“Oh my god!” Pidge cried. She turned to Rover. “Rover, where have you been?” Rover turned to see Pidge, still pinned against the wall, eyes watering as she strained against her gladiator bot and watched her best-robot-for-life back from the dead. Rover turned to EMPIRA again, and sent another series of blips. After and affirmative beep, EMPIRA released the paladins. They clattered to the floor, gasping and rubbing necks and wrists. Lance rushed to Allura, Coran to Pidge (who had fallen several feet due to the height difference), and Hunk and Shiro to Keith. Each made sure the rest were okay.
“Rover has supplied me with sufficient empirical evidence. Freedom or We Keep Fighting is a vastly superior method to Victory or Death for encouraging harmony among energized beings.” EMPIRA looked at them. “The best world is one where we coexist in peace.”
“Oh my god,” Pidge said, as Coran helped her stand, “It’s a hippie bot.”
“I will no longer resurrect Galra tech. To do so would be contrary to my new prime directive, which is no longer Galran in nature. Furthermore, Rover has supplied my database with solitaire, an intriguing game best pursued alone.”
“Solitare? Like the game on the relic Dell computers in the Garrison history lab?” Lance said.
Rover made a dialing noise.
“Ah. Minesweeper. Another fascinating game,” EMPIRA said.
The paladins blinked.
“Pidge,” Lance said. “What did you do?”
“Ah. Pinball. The hours will pass themselves,” EMPIRA said.
Pidge stuttered. “I… I programed Rover with a bunch of retro computer games. We had fun using his projecting screen to play them together sometimes.”
“Fun. This is a foreign concept to us robots.” EMPIRA said.
Rover beeped three times.
“Correction. It is not foreign to Rover. She says that she had great ‘fun’ with the Green Paladin.”
“Pidge,” Hunk said. “I thought that Galra HQ sentry was the first robot to have fun?”
“I—“ Pidge’s eyes watered. Coran set a hand on her shoulder. “I—I didn’t know.”
“Rover reports to have assimilated feelings of friendship and loyalty toward the paladins of Voltron,” EMPIRA said.
Rover beeped to EMPIRA again.
“She also states she prefers female pronouns, though she acknowledges they have no meaning toward her design.”
“Oh my god,” Lance said. “That’s so beautiful.”
Tears streamed down Pidge’s face. “Rover,” she said, “Rover, you were the best robot a person could ask for.”
Rover beeped out brfl (best robot for life) in morse code, earning a giggle from Pidge. She then dialed something else. Pidge sniffled, then froze. “Rover…” Her face went slack with fear.
“Rover reports that she is aware of your bond with her. However, she also acknowledges that her time in space after reassembling was very lonely. She doesn’t want anyone else to feel that way, it makes it hard to play pinball.”
“Oh my god,” Lance said, “She’s… she’s a real robot, Pidge.”
Rover dialed again, facing Pidge. “Rover,” Pidge said, “Rover, you don’t have to do that.”
“What’s she saying?” Lance asked.
“She says that I have you guys but EMPIRA has no one. She says that she is going to join EMPIRA in space and they will pass the time and learn to be friends.” Pidge sniffled.
“What?” Lance said.
“She’s sacrificing herself,” Pidge said. “Again.”
Rover let out a series of angry beeps.
“Oh, right, not a sacrifice. My apologies.” Pidge’s eyes flicked to EMPIRA, who though now a pledged pacifist, still imbodied a gladiator bot.
Pidge sniffled. “Thank you, Rover.”
EMPIRA dialed back to Rover in her own language. Rover appeared to giggle.
“Pidge,” Hunk said, “You have broken so many robotics records and laws in the last 5 minutes. So many.”
“I didn’t break them,” Pidge said. “Rover did. And I think a stray piece of EMPIRA’s resurrective programming brought Rover back.”
Rover faced them and all the paladins. Her lights blinked back and forth like twinkling Christmas lights. It was the closest she could do to smiling. She faced EMPIRA again and dialed.
“Rover said now is the proper time to leave,” EMPIRA said. “I will go with her now, and I will learn this minesweeper.”
Pidge sniffled again. “Thank you, Rover.”
Rover beeped and twinkled again, faster this time. The castle declared: “computer breech eliminated” and all but one of the gladiator bots deactivated. The remaining bot headed out with Rover, departing to the far regions of space, somewhere out of the observation of organic beings but still near a sun that could supply them with solar energy to power their games.
...
After watching to make sure Rover and EMPIRA travelled to their planned destination (and nowhere else), Shiro, Keith, Allura and Coran all joined Hunk and Lance on the bridge where they consoled a crying Pidge.
“Rover was such a good robot,” Pidge said, blowing her nose into a tissue.
“Come on,” Hunk said, rubbing her shoulder, “You’re the one who’s good. You designed her. You’re the one she learned from.”
“Thanks,” Pidge mumbled. She hiccupped. Lance placed an arm around her. “You’re the brilliant comm spec, Pidge.” He said. “Always have been.”
Pidge sniffled again but smiled at both of them. Hunk wrapped her (and Lance) in a hug.
“You have a heart for technology that I’ve never seen before,” Coran said.
“And you give technology a heart,” Allura said, “Even Galra technology ingrained with ‘Victory or Death.’”
“I couldn’t have done it without you guys,” Pidge said to her crew. Hunk and Lance “aww”ed and squeezed her tight. She giggled.
"And for the record, Lance," she said, "I never thought you were dumb. Thanks for having my back."
Lance smiled. "Thank you."
Shiro turned to Keith, who watched from a distance. “Some team, huh?”
“Yeah,” Keith said, returning his smile. “Some team.”
“Well,” Coran said, leaning down to eye level with the group hug and twirling his mustache, “I think we have a new motto for the Coalition! Freedom or we keep fighting.”
Shiro chuckled. “Good job on that one, Keith.”
“Oh, that one was all Lance,” Keith said, catching Lance’s eye. “He rambled about it on that mission to the jungle planet Ugos. He also apparently calls the Blades ‘Marmorans’.” Keith laughed, a short huff. “We use that motto everyday when we fight, even if we don’t say it.”
Lance smiled at him. Keith grinned back, one corner of his mouth higher than the other.
Pidge looked up at Keith, who still had a bruise on his neck from defending her. She smiled, still sniffling, face red and eyes itchy. Hunk wrapped her tighter from behind and mouthed “thank you” to Keith, who smiled all the way now.
Shiro moved to stand at Lance’s side and set a hand on his and Keith’s shoulders. “Freedom or We Keep Fighting, huh?” he said, looking to the rest of his crew—no, his family. “That’s got a nice ring to it.”
THE END