His Beautiful Nightmare 》Voltron [Voltron WA 2017]

Chapter 2

Azalea threw the rubber ball against the steel wall. It bounced off and ricocheted to a different corner.
"Must you be that difficult?", she asked the ball aloud. She held out her left hand, covered with her special metal glove that descended from the metallic bands attached to her wrists.
The ball floated back towards her, and she grabbed it.
Blowing a strand of grey hair out of her face, Azalea pushed herself into the air from the spot on the ceiling she was sitting on.
She swam towards the floor, crawling towards the door.
 
It was the only way to get around since she couldn't walk. The soldiers on this ship didn't trust her, so they disabled her only way of controlled traveling:  her ankle bands. Without them, she could only use her gloves to help her swim around.
   She lifted herself just enough to peer out of the small glass window on the steel door, but quickly ducked back down when sentries walked by.

"Nothing ever happens on this ship."

Or any ship for that matter, she thought bitterly.

Being Azalea didn't mean she was treated like a normal Galra prisoner. Sure, she gets the clothes and the same food, but being Azalea meant that she was Nightmare.
And being Nightmare meant that she was kept in top-notch solitary confinement.

Azalea hadn't spoke to another prisoner in four years. Not since her powers became stronger.

She clutched the red ball (her only source of entertainment) and sent it hurtling at the wall. It bounced at high speed, going from wall to wall at a blinding rate, but never hit her once.
Every time it slowed down, Azalea flicked her wrist and sent it spiraling away once again.

She sighed.

The steel doorway opened, revealing a Galra soldier with his blaster.

Azalea stopped the ball, then put her hands behind her head and floated in midair, eying the guard.

"Where's Padalecki?", she asked the guard. Padalecki was her usual escort. Azalea liked him. At least Padalecki called her by her real name.
Maybe this one will too.

"Nightmare", the soldier started.

Of course not.

"Padalecki and the other soldiers are preparing for attack. We are being boarded this very moment, and I was given orders to transport the hybrid specimen of this ship. I am Wittox.", the soldier stated harshly.

We're being attacked? By who? Only an idiot would do that.

"Um, Mr. Wittox, I honestly would rather prefer to be called a person... or prisoner at least.", Azalea suggested,  "Hybrid specimen just doesn't sound right to me, don't you think?"

Wittox glared at her, "You are a bred specimen of the Galra Empire. That is,  and will always be, the same."

Azalea shrugged, "Suit yourself."

He held his hand by his oversized fuzzy ear for a moment.

He must be getting a message.

"Lets go!", the Galra soldier suddenly barked, "These Voltron paladins are getting closer!"

He grabbed her arm and dragged her out into the hallway.

Floating beside Wittox,  Azalea was ecstatic, but kept a stern face.
She'd heard of the Voltron Paladins. Supposedly they were the "Defenders of the Universe", but the Galra had other names for them too.
Scum.
Fledglings.
And other harsh words that she refused to even think.
Apparently Voltron was lost, but sometime in the past year it had resurfaced.
That had Zarkon on high alert.
And Azalea and the other hybrids on total lockdown.