Shiro hesitates, only in that he's not certain how to access the best, cleanest way to get it across. He closes his eyes, and unbidden there's Adam, in his cadet greys, looking out the observation deck window at the Garrison's newest, untested fighter with barely suppressed disapproval. You're flying that? Shiro forces his mind away from it, past it, and he's standing in front of the Black Lion for the first time, in a massive hall of the Castle of Lions, the other four flanking him behind. It's huge, bigger even than the others, and its eyes gleam as it comes to life after ten thousand years of waiting and roars, like a seismic event.
It bows its head not in submission but in acquiescence, in curiosity, allows Shiro to approach it and reach his hand out to touch his metal fingertips to its metal jaw, and then he's in the cockpit and they're climbing. It's not a fight Shiro needs to revisit, certainly not one he wants to see to the end, but it's the best way he knows to show what they were up against.
The lions dodge around brilliant lances of pink energy, emitting from massive warships. The first Galra cruiser Shiro saw had blotted out the sky, and this is a fleet, an armada. The lions individually do damage, cut through hulls and return fire with their own mounted lasers, but it's not enough.
Paladins, on me! As Voltron, it's easier. Once the connection is forged, Voltron lands bodily on the flagship, kneeling. On Shiro's word, Voltron draws an energy sword from whatever Quintessence fueled ether the lions could access, and they drag it diagonally through the massive ship, even as manned fighters pour from it by the increasing hundreds.
The explosion dwarfs them all, sends a shockwave rippling through the next ship, and Voltron's wings gleam with blue light as they move to forward the attack.
At the last moment Shiro opens his eye, only a split second of the inadvertent memory coming into focus. Standing in a field of black stars, just space, eternal and endless and empty.
He clears his throat, looking over at Zevran with some curiosity.
"Hopefully that wasn't just... additionally confusing."
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It bows its head not in submission but in acquiescence, in curiosity, allows Shiro to approach it and reach his hand out to touch his metal fingertips to its metal jaw, and then he's in the cockpit and they're climbing. It's not a fight Shiro needs to revisit, certainly not one he wants to see to the end, but it's the best way he knows to show what they were up against.
The lions dodge around brilliant lances of pink energy, emitting from massive warships. The first Galra cruiser Shiro saw had blotted out the sky, and this is a fleet, an armada. The lions individually do damage, cut through hulls and return fire with their own mounted lasers, but it's not enough.
Paladins, on me! As Voltron, it's easier. Once the connection is forged, Voltron lands bodily on the flagship, kneeling. On Shiro's word, Voltron draws an energy sword from whatever Quintessence fueled ether the lions could access, and they drag it diagonally through the massive ship, even as manned fighters pour from it by the increasing hundreds.
The explosion dwarfs them all, sends a shockwave rippling through the next ship, and Voltron's wings gleam with blue light as they move to forward the attack.
At the last moment Shiro opens his eye, only a split second of the inadvertent memory coming into focus. Standing in a field of black stars, just space, eternal and endless and empty.
He clears his throat, looking over at Zevran with some curiosity.
"Hopefully that wasn't just... additionally confusing."