Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defenders
Summary: The Galra have encountered many strange species. Just not as strange as this one.
(a small thing i wanted to get out of my system. i domt know what to do with it or how to add onto it so heres all i could come up with for this season hfjskfbm)
The Galra were⌠on edge.
Most were expecting the usual invade and conquer. The aliens under their occupation would cry and resist, or if they were lucky they would find that these âhumansâ, as they were called, would make their jobs easy and surrender.
What they found⌠was a mix.
While most of the alien race surrendered after their invasion and round up, the fact that some humans didnât even bat an eye at their stripped freedom had some of the Galra a bit shaken.
âHey! Tall, purple, and hairy! Ever tried to get down with a human before!?â One human had called out. And if it werenât for their lecherous grin, or their friends following whistling and jeers, the guard in charge would have never guessed that they were asking for sexual activity.
It wasnât only rare for different species to mate and breed, but it was also looked down upon. Cultural differences usually clashed so violently that the offspring of mixed species most often than not led terrible lives.
Yet here were these humans, their entire civilization being taken over; and they called out to their oppressors for sex.
And it didnât stop there. The humans just became more and more strange as the weeks went on.
They found out that humans were a horrifying race.
Fights broke out in the camps often, and the threat of taking their lives became less and less effective the longer they stayed in captivity.
One Commander even reported a human pressing their forehead to the blaster when threatened and screaming, âYou want to kill me so bad?! Then do it motherfucker! What are you waiting for, pull the fucking trigger and get it over with you purple bitch!â
It had been the first time the Commander had ever hesitated to take a life, and it was a mistake when he did.
Humans, it appeared, were not ones to fear death so easily as some. Yes, there were the cowardly ones. Weak, and frail, or just slimey enough to sell others out to live, but the majority made the Galra hesitate and question themselves.
After many humans were put to death as examples, the fighting amongst themselves did diminish, but the anger seemed to shift from themselves to the Galra instead.
It was with some sort of horrific awe that the Galra working in the labor camps gained some semblance of respect for the human race.
A report had been sent in about a small work camp based near one of the Earthâs larger cities; about the absolute bloodbath that had occurred.
Apparently, the humans working their had all agreed to rebel during their scheduled food break, and while the humans had been weakened with hard labor and lack of sleep, the Galra stationed there had been understaffed and lazy.
There were video clips of humans tearing apart tables and chairs to create blunt weapons. One had rushed a guard with nothing but a metal thermos and had stolen their rifle when they had chucked it at the guards head. There had also been humans in the kitchen who had rigged the oven to explode with nothing but what was available to them. But the most blood chilling of all was when the human with the stolen weapon had jumped up onto a table and cried out, âVictory or Death!â in their native tongue and proceeded to shoot out the rest of the guards with uncoordinated rage.
Most of the humans based there had escaped in the aftermath. The few drones that arrived shortly were only able to take out a few stragglers that stayed to give the rest of the humans time to get away.
The incident didnât fade from the few Galra who witnessed the event however. The blood curdling, spittled cry of, âVictory or Death!â in a language not their own, but could be translated perfectly from their universal communicators made the humans seem much more terrifying than they had been before.
Even after the suppression of all the human rebellions, the underlying fear of the humans didnât die down.
It wasnât even their ability to kill that made the Galraâs blood freeze. It was the lengths that these aliens were ready to go to. They had only ever seen this type of tenacity from Galra generals and higher-ups.
It was near barbaric what these humans were willing to do to survive, and the worst part was, was that according to the reports, these aliens were merely civilians. Apparently, it didnât matter where or how a human had lived; their instinctual drive to survive and protect could bring down the less of them given the right tools.
It was no wonder the Champion had survived so long in the arena. If he had grown in a civilization of these mongrels it wasnât a surprise that he not only kept the championship title for so long, but escaped the clutches of the druids and guards as well.
Voltron was near invincible if it was wielded by these aliens. If the humans in the work camps were bad, the Voltron paladins, who were military trained, could probably destroy planets if they so chose to.
Yet they fought for what they loved, for what they cared for.
And that was the mistake of the Galra wasnât it. Every time something a human loved or cared for was threatened; be it their own lives, their loved ones, their belongings, a human automatically shifted its entire world view into erasing the threat. Or more appropriately, they sacrificed without hesitation to eliminate everything in their path to save what they loved.
It was this, the Galra realized as their ships and leader were obliterated, that made the humans so terrifying. And what made Voltron and the human race so impossible to defeat.
