Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The airspace was clear, not having seen a commercial ship for years. Debris drifted around the abandoned planet, launched into space from explosions. Battle had ravaged the medium-sized planet and now left it desolate and destroyed. The husk of the planet remained uninhabited for thousands of years, nothing but craters and mineral-deprived rocky crags. Such an isolated place became the perfect location to stash a ship—and hundreds of pirates.

The Dauntless was both a marvel of engineering and a bastardization of space technology. A true mutt, the Dauntless was built from a collection of parts. Whatever the crew salvaged from wrecks or from ships they conquered would be added to the Dauntless. It grew from a single fast schooner-type vessel into the monster that now hid in the planet’s shadow. Massive enough to house up to five-hundred pirates comfortably at any time. The landing bays had enough room for thirty smaller crafts and ten large crafts. Although the Dauntless was one of the largest non-Galra craft in space, it could still outgun and outrun any Intergalactic Alliance cruiser that happened to stumble upon it. A few centuries ago, the captain had even finished putting a warp drive engine on the Dauntless. This made it powerful and fast. The speed, manpower, and sheer size made the Dauntless one of the most fearsome ships in the skies.

Captain Bartholomew—which was not his real name—was the leader of the pirates who called the Dauntless their home. He was the sole survivor of a rough and tough group called the Scourges. They were known for being ruthless in their conquests. They would only leave one survivor from any craft they came upon. The Scourges earned their name by leaving nothing in their wake. They in turn received their just rewards when they encountered a Galra force. Having lost many a supplies shipments to the Scourge, the Galra were looking for revenge. Perhaps it was irony that sent Captain Bartholomew to reside in the very place that the Scourge met their demise. Others would call it fate. Captain Bartholomew created a successful pirate empire from the husks of his people’s ships. Now the Dauntless loomed in the darkness of the forgotten planet, waiting for its next orders.

*

Green.

Green, rolling hills ranged across the land. It melted into the sparse but golden shining dunes of the desert. The multicolored rocks rose from the ground in towers that cast haunting shadows across the shifting sands. A man silhouetted against the harsh, midday sun. He reached a hand out to the boy running towards him. Suddenly the ground opened up and sucked the boy in. His ankles caught and held fast in the sand that now felt like concrete. The man let his hand fall back to his side and turned away. He moved into the sunlight, never once turning to the boy’s cries for him to stay.

*

Keith startled awake, a cold sweat rolling down his temples. His hair was plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck. The sleep shirt he wore was stuck to his skin and the air thick with his gasps. He stared at the ceiling, blinking away the sunspots that his dream had left behind. When he finally came back to himself he sat up. The blankets slapped against the wall as he threw them off. His room was dark with all the portholes fastened shut. Nothing but space dust and broken planets out there anyway. Keith moved about his cabin by the dull, throbbing red lights that lined the walls. They were always on—maybe Bartholomew’s kind of a joke about safety.

He pulled on a pair of sweats and a loose tank top. The dream had left a sour taste in his mouth and nervous energy in his limbs. A pilot was never nervous--they couldn’t afford to be. One slip or even a moment of hesitation could mean disaster for an entire crew. Keith shook away the thoughts and images of hurtling through the atmosphere, flames licking at heat shields. An angered sneer crept into his expression. He slammed his fist on the button to open his door. Light from the hallway spilled across the floor. His shoulder passed through the eerie burst of red before the room was dark once more.

The walkways of the ship were still quiet, save for the gentle hum of machinery in the walls. Some of the lights flickered along the floors. But Keith didn’t need the lights anymore. He had walked these hallways since he was young. No divot or uneven surface surprised him. If someone dared him to close his eyes and make it from point A to point B, he could easily do it. The Dauntless was like a second skin to Keith. It was his home and his life—this looming prison.

The doors to the training rooms opened with a muted woosh and Keith stepped inside. It wasn’t hi-tech in any form of the word. But there were weights, weapons, and even a small training simulator. Captain Bartholomew joked that among all the heavies he had under his control, it was the small fry Keith who was always training. Not that Keith minded the sneers and chuckles that he got whenever the crew saw him coming or going. If they wanted to stay dumb and dull-witted--well they weren’t Keith’s crew and therefore not his responsibility. Every man for himself and every pilot for his crew, Keith thought. As long as he could protect himself and his crew that was all that mattered. That, at least, was one of the things his father had left him with.

After an hour of working through a simulator, Keith emerged sweaty and pleasantly spent. The anxiety had left him completely and he felt level- and clear-headed. Some of the earlier risers in the crew were beginning to get up. Bleary eyes and lazy nods greeted him as he walked through the halls. He made his way to the shower rooms, somewhat glad that others hadn’t made it quite that far in their morning routines. Steam filled the room as Keith turned on the shower. The water relaxed his muscles and lessened the ache in his arms and legs. Voices sounded in the other room so he cut his shower time short. He quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and hurried out the side-door. A small portion of a dark mark on his hip peeked out from underneath it.

Having worked out, showered, and redressed himself, Keith moved towards the mess hall. Dining with whatever members of Captain Bartholomew’s gang was always interesting. They weren’t necessarily mannerless--but let’s just say they never used the salad forks. Or ate salad. Rancorous voices bounced off the steel-plated walls. The noise seemed to be multiplied by the high ceiling. Utensils and plates scraped against tables and rang in the air. Keith grabbed some unidentifiable grub from the serving station. The cook glared at him, as he did everyone, and sniffed loudly as he wiped his nose. Keith turned away from him and looked around. Just like every meal, his crew was sitting at the same table to the left of the doors.

Pidge and Hunk sat hunched over their plates. Hunk was saying something about how the seasoning on today’s breakfast was off. That he couldn’t believe the cook didn’t understand the flavor profiles that went along with the Gorpfon fruits and that it would never in any universe go with Phylliaconian meat. Plus it was too salty. Keith put his tray down on the table and Hunk looked up. The larger boy gave him a carefree smile and waved.

“Morning Keith!”

Keith offered a small nod. Pidge didn’t look up but let out a grunt of acknowledgement. Ey were working on something on the screen in front of em. Laptop open with strings of codes lining the entire display, Pidge typed away and barely touched eir food.

“What are you working on?” Keith asked, picking at the oddly colored fruit before him.

Now Pidge flicked eir eyes up. “It’s something Hunk and I are developing for the ship.”

“Yeah! It’s gonna be awesome! It’s a sort of device that will help stabilize outside pressure to help when entering harsh atmospheres.”

“It’ll regulate temperatures and air pressure to make entering and exiting planet spheres easier.”

Keith showed some interest by a quirk of his mouth. He took a bite of the meat, grimacing then putting his fork down. “Any particular reason for it? Have my landings been that bad lately?”

Hunk and Pidge shared a look. Hunk spoke first.

“You haven’t got the debrief for our next mission yet have you?”

“No. What is it?”

“The usual.” Pidge mumbled. Ey changed the screen to a file and turned the laptop towards Keith. He started scanning the words on the page.

“A treasure retrieval mission?”

“Keep reading. There’s something a little different about this one.”

Keith moved down the page and his eyes fell on a note towards the bottom.

“No other craft has ever returned?”

“Because of the climate of the entire planet, the change in airspace is too dramatic for many small raider craft to handle.”

“Why is Bartholomew giving this to us?”

Hunk shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe he thinks we’re expendable? Why send the big guys when you can send the youngsters?”

“You know that the Boss doesn’t throw away assets like that.” Pidge rolled eir eyes. “It’s obvious that this is a test. He expects us to do well, but is curious to see just how well we do.”

“I don’t know.” Hunk’s voice trailed off. He chanced a look at Keith, but he was too absorbed in the mission details to notice.

He was memorizing the statistics that were in the report on air density, temperature, and gravitational force. He skipped over most of the on-land duties. That was something to worry about after actually landing. Those could be debriefed during the flight. This place was quite a few jumps away on the other side of the galaxy. It was in a completely different star system, one that Keith had only ever seen mentioned once in a “Do Not Fly Zone.” Which definitely didn’t bode well for the crew or their mission.

Keith walked down the hallway back to his room. He was still scanning a data file for more information on the planet. Apparently the planet was rumored to be a source of jewels. Not just any source though, legends told that this planet had more gems in it than stars in the Milky Way galaxy. Now Keith understood the draw for Bartholomew. If they were successful, not only would Bartholomew get the jewels but also the prestige for having the only crew to ever fly back out of there.

No pressure.

A little green light blinked next to Keith’s door. He let out a sigh. Upon entering his room, he opened the comm system. Sure enough there was a message waiting for him. It was from Captain Bartholomew.

Come see me.

Keith put his data log down on the bed. He took a second to rub at his temples, hoping to ebb an oncoming headache. No luck. So he grit his teeth, grabbed his jacket from the hook on the wall, and left his room once more.

*

Captain Bartholomew’s rooms were on the northern end of the Dauntless. He took up about seven rooms there. But this included his private quarters, the helms room, stock rooms, and a small mechanic’s space. Some of the captain’s most loyal men nodded their heads at Keith as he passed. These hallways were just as familiar to him as all the others despite not traveling them often. His mind was moulded to memorize and keep information in it. Another trait his father had left him.

Coming up to the Captain’s quarters, Keith straightened his cuffs. With a quick roll of his shoulders he opened the door. It opened silently unlike many of the other doors on the Dauntless. Keith dropped his head and brought his arm across his chest. For some reason, it was always a motion that sent a chill down his spine.

“You wished to see me, Captain?”

Captain Bartholomew looked up from whatever he was discussing with his first mate, Commodore Perry. Perry gave a look to the Captain who easily waved him off. The commodore nodded and bowed his head respectfully before exiting the room.

“You’re faster than I expected.” Bartholomew said, moving to the chair that overlooked the front windows. Empty space and planet debris floated in the void beyond the large windows. Bartholomew glanced out, a cursory check for any kind of trouble. Then he turned his attention back to Keith.

“At ease.”

Keith lowered his arm back to his side and was instantly relieved for doing so. He glanced around checking for exits and possible threats--a habit he had picked up in the field. Bartholomew noticed the action and smirked.

“About your upcoming mission.”

“We leave in two days time. Pidge and Hunk should have all modifications to the craft complete by then. I’m expecting it to go smoothly, sir.”

Bartholomew nodded and tented his hands beneath his chin. He thought for a moment. “This is mostly a reconnaissance mission. Find out why ships aren’t returning. Report if it’s atmospheric or otherwise.”

Otherwise being, of course, any kind of trouble they might find. Anywhere from other pirate crews, Intergalactic Alliance interference, or even Galra forces.

“Yes sir. Would you like me to bring back anything we recover from the planet?”

“Planet Okhotsk should yield quite a few things for us if my intel is correct.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Sir?”

“Yes.” Bartholomew said after a moment. “Bring back anything of interest that you find.”

Keith nodded and bowed again. He sensed this was the end of the conversation. Turning to leave, Bartholomew cleared his throat.

“If this goes as well as I expect it to, we’ll be all squared up.”

A chill of excitement crept down Keith’s arms. He didn’t look back at the Captain but continued to exit.

“Oh, and Keith?”

This time he grudgingly looked back at Bartholomew. “Yes sir?”

“I expect that all upgrades are being done using your crew’s supply?”

“Of course, sir.” Keith said through gritted teeth.

Bartholomew nodded. “See to it then.”

Keith bowed his head and put his arm across his chest once more. “To your glory.”

His footsteps echoed as he left, a bit of anger punctuating each tap. Bartholomew smiled as the door shut behind the young man then turned back to the windows. He waved a hand in front of him and the display changed. There were files and sketches with old pictures lining the displays. Reports and myths about the Kingdom of Neso on Planet Okhotsk flickered before him. He waved his arm and a picture came to the center of the screen. It was an old photo, pulled from some kind of archive. The picture looked like it had been taken during a large, opulent event. He pinched and zoomed the picture, focusing on the jewel-crusted goblets and serving trays. A wicked smile crossed his lips.

There was a knock on his door. Bartholomew quickly lowered his hand and the display went back to being windows.

“Enter.” He said, swiveling in his chair. Commodore Perry came in with a sour look on his face.

“Are you sure this is wise Captain? Surely there’s a more experienced crew we could send.”

“Commodore, have you seen that boy fly a craft?”

Perry’s mouth tightened. “No sir I haven’t.”

“It’s some of the finest flying I’ve seen.”

“For his age, you mean?”

“No. It’s some of the best I’ve ever seen. I swear that boy was born holding a control stick in his hand.”

The concerned look hadn’t left Perry’s expression.

“You doubt my judgement?” A hint of anger crept into Bartholomew’s voice. “Maybe you would prefer I sent you instead?”

He paled. “No sir. I’m only concerned with the mission’s success.”

“As am I, which is exactly why I chose Keith and his crew. Do you have any other objections?”

“No sir.” he paused, “However—“

“However?”

“Well, it’s just—“

“Spit it out, Commodore.” Bartholomew said gruffly.

“Some of the men are beginning to talk.”

Bartholomew raised an eyebrow. “Talk? About what?”

“They feel you favor the boy.”

“Do they now?”

“Yes sir. They also say that the way he fights is unnerving. That his actions remind them of the Galra.”

Bartholomew’s expression was as dark as a black hole. His fingers were gripping the arms of his chair till his knuckles were bone-white.

“Tell them any concerns they have with Keith can be taken up with me. I won’t have this kind of talk happening within my crew.”

Perry, startled by the harshness of Bartholomew’s tone, bowed his head. “As you wish sir. I’ll speak with those who I know have spoken in such a way.”

“See it done.”

“To your glory.” Perry saluted, arm across his chest and exited. With the door shut behind him Perry grinned.

“Most interesting.” he mumbled as he walked down the hall.

*

Rather than go back to his room, Keith decided to go to the eastern docking bay. His ship, the Polaris, sat stationed in Bay 12. He swept his hand along the side of the ship.

“Hey there girl.”

The docking bay was full of mechanical sounds. Clunks and the hiss of air-locks from ships and cargo moving around made the airspace heavy with activity. Men shouted over the din of repairs. Keith came around and popped open a panel on the side. He checked some diagnostics on the ship. All systems were operational. It didn’t look as if Pidge and Hunk had started on whatever upgrades they were developing. He figured that they would get in once some of the activity in the bay had died down. They weren’t as comfortable on the Dauntless as some other crews. Not that Keith could blame them.

As the youngest of the entire ship, it felt like they were always the butt of the joke. Pidge got the brunt of the abuse. Other mechanics and engineers didn’t take em seriously. They would mess with Pidge, undermine all eir work, and even “accidentally” break eir things. Keith still remembered a few septads ago when he found PIdge in the Polaris’s storage room. Ey were hunched over what was left of a booster engine ey had spent weeks on. It had been one of eir proudest inventions, made from scraps of plans eir brother had stored on a data file. The file was one of the only things recovered from the wreckage of the ship that Matt had last been seen on. Pidge hadn’t cried though. Instead, ey took on extra jobs and coding work to buy the parts again. Ey reworked the code, got Hunk in on it, and rebuilt it even better than before. After that, the others mostly stopped messing with Pidge. Ey also got the respect of the parts foreman. That certainly helped them get new parts for the Polaris at a reasonable rate. They didn’t have to worry about getting third- or fourth-hand parts either. Second-hand at worst is what came their way.

Keith closed the control panel on the side and opened one of the hatches. It hissed as the hydraulics released. He climbed inside, pulling the door closed behind him. The inside of the craft was still dark save for the few lights that always blinked. Keith moved to the front and sank into the pilot’s chair. It cushioned him like a welcoming hug. He immediately relaxed and felt his body push back into the seat. The display in front of him was black. For a moment, he could imagine the stars gliding past as the Polaris moved through space. He saw planets and galaxies, asteroid belts, and swirling gas giants. He saw home.

*
“We’ll have to hook it into the monitoring system for the rockets—“ Pidge’s voice drifted into the space of the Polaris. Ey hit a combination of buttons that brought the internal lights up. Eir arms were full of equipment and eir laptop. Ey jumped when ey spotted Keith in the pilot’s chair.

“Christ Keith! What are you doing?”

Hunk peeked inside. “Oh, there you are! We were wondering where you had run off to.”

The lights had awoken Keith and he felt sluggish. He blinked the sleep from the corner of his eyes.

“Have you been here all day?” Pidge asked, making eir way through the cabin to hook into the onboard computers. Numbers started to fill up the screen and scroll at such a speed it made Keith dizzy looking at it.

“What time is it?” he responded groggily.

“Dinner’s almost out. You missed a really good Ceruvian stew tonight. Actually had some vegetables in it.” Hunk mumbled from inside a chest full of tools. He pulled out a few and attached them to his tool belt. “I’ll get started on the internals.”

“Be there in a second.”

Keith watched Pidge work some of the code into the systems. Some things beeped on the display in front of em. Ey let eir eyes go over everything that was happening then smiled.

“Wakey wakey Polaris, got some goodies for you.” Pidge sing-songed at the screen. Ey leaned towards the door so eir head was sticking out. “Hunk go ahead and start unplugging the old stabilizer.”

A clunk and bang as Hunk moved around underneath the ship. “You mean the whole thing?” He shouted back.

“Yeah, the whole thing.”

“Wait—ack!—we can’t just take the whole thing out!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pidge said, already typing away on the laptop. “I’ve compensated for the loss of mass with the machinery. The computer knows that there’s different stuff happening. We just have to reroute some of the power happening here—“

Ey clicked furiously on the keyboard. A pop-up warning came onto the screen. Pidge frowned and squinted at the box. Eir fingers were like lightning as they navigated through the programs and strings of code.

“But Pidge—it’s not—“ there was a thump and the Polaris shook as Hunk worked inside of it. “If we take the entire stabilizer out the engines will be unbalanced and we risk having failure. Plus there’s no backups if the new one goes out.”

“Are you saying you think my stabilizer won’t work?”

“I’m just saying that I always like having a plan B. Even a plan C if we have one.”

Pidge stared at the open door where Hunk’s voice was coming from. Ey clicked eir tongue and went back to eir keyboard.

“Fine. Leave the old one in.”

“Okay! Then the new one is just going to hook in like a fuel injector right?”

“Right.” Pidge cracked eir fingers and rolled eir head on eir neck. “Keith go ahead and pull up the display screen.”

He nodded and flicked a few switches. The window before him lit up in a sequence of numbers and information. It looked much like the diagnostics scan he’d done from the side control panel earlier.

“What am I looking for Pidge?”

“Hang on just a second—“ ey said slowly. With a few more clicks and a decisive tap, ey hit the enter key. The screen on eir computer went black for a second. Then a little mascot popped up with a message saying “You did it! Installation complete!”

With that, a button popped onto the front display board. It’s icon was a snowflake. Pidge pointed to it.

“That’s how you’ll activate the new stabilizer once we get into Okhotsk’s atmosphere. It’ll also come in handy if we ever end up going through asteroid belts or near other ice giants.”

“All right.” Keith looked at the new icon for a second then powered down the main displays and controls. “Do you need help with anything?”

Pidge looked up from storing eir laptop in its case. Eir eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, no thanks. Hunk and I can handle it from here.” Pidge picked up eir laptop and exited the Polaris. Keith could hear em and Hunk talking in excited tones. He tapped his foot impatiently against the floor. A different kind of anxiety had come back to him. It made his stomach churn uncomfortably. He rubbed at the back of his head and let his hand trail down his neck. With nothing else for him to do, he left the ship. He went over to the parts foreman.

“Hey there little space boy.” the foreman said with a friendly wave. “What are they working on this time?”

He gestured towards Pidge and Hunk gathered at the side of the ship, looking into the mess of machine and wires. Keith shrugged his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets. The foreman gave a sympathetic look.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know.”

“No, it’s uh—an engine to help in icy atmospheres?” Keith’s voice intoned up in uncertainty at the end. He felt a blush trying to fight its way onto his cheeks. But he stamped it down by biting the inside of his cheek. The foreman’s look didn’t change in it’s expression, instead morphing to slight pity.

“Anyway, what can I do for you?”

“We leave on a mission in two days. It’s going to be about seven jumps there. So we need enough fuel to do at least sixteen jumps.”

The foreman nodded, pulling out an electronic PDA. He started to type information and orders onto the floating red display. “Any hostiles?”

“No. Save the space on ammunition for spoils.”

“All right. Rations?”

“Only emergency levels. I’m not expecting any trouble.”

He gave Keith a look over his half glasses. It didn’t stay long before he looked back down. “Okay, we’ll get you all stocked up. Who’s account is this going to?”

“Mine.” Keith said hesitantly. His mouth pulled down in a small grimace. He mentally crossed his fingers and hoped that Okhotsk would be as much of a cash cow as Bartholomew was expecting it to be. Keith’s entire crew needed it to be.

The foreman nodded again. The PDA’s screen disappeared and he slipped the apparatus back into his pocket. “I’ll have it done by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thanks.”

They each bowed their heads to the other, crossing their arms over their chests.

“To our glory.” They said. Keith turned and left the docking bay. He realized he’d left his data log in the ship’s stock room. The door was still open to it, meaning Pidge and Hunk were inside. Their voices floated out and he was able to pick up on them as he got closer.

“—do you think?” Pidge asked.

“I mean, I guess it’s nice of him to ask?”

“But Keith doesn’t do nice. He doesn’t offer to help ever.”

“Oh c’mon. He’s not that cold.”

“When was the last time Keith ever offered to help you with anything?”

“Uh, there was that one time.”

Keith stopped outside of the room. He stood against the wall. His stomach tightened even more on itself as he listened.

“Yeah, exactly.” Pidge said sarcastically. “It just took me off guard I guess.”

“Maybe he’s doing that whole, trying to turn over a new leaf thing? He’s a good guy at heart though I’m sure.”

“Once you get past all the needles and guards he puts up.”

“Pidge—“

He couldn’t take it anymore. He would get the data log back later. Or just leave it entirely. He started to walk away.

“Undoubtedly Keith is the best pilot I’ve ever met.” Pidge’s voice continued. “But he’s not a people guy.”

There was a weird mix of anger and pride in Keith’s blood. He paused in his steps, eyes darting between the Polaris and the exit. Footsteps began to move towards him and he panicked. If Pidge and Hunk saw him, they would definitely know he’d overheard them. Quickly Keith sidestepped behind a crate that was to be stored on a ship in the bay. His crew mates walked past, chatting about something entirely different.

They were friends, Keith realized with a start. And he wasn’t included. He understood now that he didn’t have anything more than a professional relationship with Pidge and Hunk. These two people that he would risk his life for as their pilot—could he say the same thing about them? He squeezed his eyes shut tight. The blackness swirling in his gut threatened to overwhelm him. It crept along his bones and prickled at his skin. He ground his teeth together and dug his nails into his palms. The bite was dulled by his gloves but the pressure nonetheless brought him out of it.

A quick breath passed between his lips. He allowed himself to sink to the floor. The crate was rough against his back and rucked his jacket up some. He scrubbed at his face with his hands. There were some meditative breathing techniques that he’d learned from another crewmember. He tried to remember them but they didn’t come to him. His breaths pushed out his mouth and pulled slowly in his nose. Focusing on the breathing and his heartbeat, he calmed himself down. Something about the upcoming mission was shaking him to his core. There was no way for him to pinpoint exactly what or why.

This wouldn’t be the first time that Captain Bartholomew had sent them in to what appeared by the books to be a suicide mission. Keith was sure they would come back from it. That they would return rich and glorious. Things would turn around for all of them. Pidge would be allowed more resources to find eir brother. Hunk would get higher status and be able to work with Captain Bartholomew’s personal crew of mechanics. Keith would finally be square with Bartholomew and be able to leave.

The mark on his hip felt like it was burning in his skin. He pressed his palm against it and pressed hard. It was all in his head. The skies would finally be his. He would leave the Dauntless for the place where he felt at home—space.

You have no home.

Those words echoed in Keith’s head. They swirled in his mind and appeared in the air before him. Panic overcame him and he shoved his face between his knees. It felt like the heat from the mark on his hip was all over him. Like bugs crawling over the skin, it buzzed in his head and rattled his teeth. He shook his head and tried to clear it. It wasn’t real. He was fine. He had the Dauntless. He had Captain Bartholomew. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t unwanted. Tears pricked at his eyes.

He didn’t have anything.

Chapter Text

Music rose over the light sounds of chatter and laughter. Children ran between legs and around large skirts. Their shoes tapped against the hard, glassy floors. The scent of food mixed with expensive perfumes. Polite applause followed the end of the song and dance partners bowed to each other. King and Queen Claine smiled upon the gathered nobles. Even outside the main ballroom there were celebrations happening. It was a day to remember and an event to celebrate. Their prince was being officially crowned as successor.

Prince Lanceliah smiled at the comtesse he’d been dancing with. A blush laid upon her cheeks and she curtsied properly.

“Thank you for the dance, your highness.” she cooed.

He took her hand. “I assure you, the pleasure was all mine.” His voice was gentle and his lips soft as he kissed the back of her hand. She giggled in mild embarrassment and quickly scurried away. Lanceliah noticed that the group of girls she joined all squealed and jumped in excitement when she returned.

There was a flourish from the band. It caught the attention of all in the ballroom. Lanceliah looked up and saw his mother motioning for him to join them on the dais. His grin was from ear to ear as he bounded up the few stairs that raised the thrones from the dance floor. He bowed to his mother. She was positively shining in her happiness. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it tightly.

“We are so proud of you, Lanceliah. Neso could not have asked for a more promising crown prince.”

He felt his chest constrict. A nervous smile forced its way to his lips. “Thank you mother.”

She nodded and released his hand. Lanceliah immediately missed the contact. He clenched his fists at his side, hoping he didn’t look as anxious as he felt. Turning to face his father, Lanceliah noticed the tightness to the king’s jaw. His bow was more formal. The king spoke no personal words to him and Lanceliah’s stomach dropped slightly.

The king cleared his throat and turned to address the crowd.

“My countrymen and most valued friends.” he began, “We are gathered today for a most joyous occasion. On this day we recognize Prince Lanceliah of the Family Claine as the next in line and rightful heir to the throne.”

A cheer came up from the crowd. There was noise from outside the castle as well, the triumphant blare of horns in the air. Small explosions in the form of sky decorations punctuated the moment. Crystalline shards of colorful ice fell in arcs on the townspeople celebrating outside the castle. Their excitement was palpable even inside the ballroom.

Prince Lanceliah looked over the gathered nobles in the ballroom. These were his people. One day he would be their king. The weight of his responsibility hit him full force and his knees threatened to collapse. His mind was filled with the faces of those he had passed in the streets. Kind merchant women, thin but smiling children, brazen and dashing men, battle scarred veterans who told stories of glory in war. They would all be under his protection. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a slow, steadying breath. There were still quite a few years before he would have to wear the crown. He had plenty of time to get to a point where he felt he was ready. This calmed his panic momentarily. The king was still speaking and Lanceliah struggled to tune back in.

“—and thus I present to you—“

The king’s advisor came up, carefully placing a shimmering blue cape onto Lanceliah’s shoulders. He clasped it with a large broach that had been handmade by the king and queen. It held both of their touches of craftsmanship. Streaks of color shot through the structure of the gems on it—his mother’s delicate decorum melding flawlessly with his father’s unshakeable work. Lanceliah touched it briefly and the stone felt warm under his fingers.

“—Crown Prince Lanceliah of Neso.”

The circlet fit on Lanceliah’s forehead like a second skin. It was cool and he gasped as it touched him. Suddenly his sight was clear in a way it had never been before. The colors in the ballroom were bright and saturated. He looked down at his hands, skin sensitive enough to feel even the slightest breeze. Blue markings shot across his skin and made patterns and runes of the royal blood on him. There was a slight searing on his face and he winced. But it was replaced by a pleasant warmth and he knew that he’d been accepted as the next ruler.

Light blue lines etched across his skin, peeking from the edges of his clothes. A small rune settled behind his left ear and glowed brightly. It pulsed with his heartbeat for a moment then dulled to a silver color. Delicate lines appeared from his temples down to his cheekbones. The stone in the center of his circlet flashed a blinding light then settled on a dark, rich blue. With the ritual complete and Lanceliah recognized by the powers that be, the crowd couldn’t contain their excitement.

More sky decorations went into the air outside the castle. Music started back up in the ballroom. Lanceliah tried to get his wits back about him, body surging with new power. He’d always known that the crowning ceremony would unlock the powers inside him. But he had never expected it to feel so right. Before then, he realized, there had been something missing. Now he felt complete. Inside there were whispers and hums thrumming through his blood. The voices of rulers past and the gods who watched over the people of Neso. They each spoke to Lanceliah, welcoming him and promising to guide and protect him. Tendrils of magic and crystals of ice dripped from his fingertips. It left him feeling satisfied in a way he could have never expected.

He turned to his mother and smiled brilliantly. She returned the smile, albeit watery from the emotional tears in her eyes. Her nod towards him was gentle but reassuring. She reached her hand out for him to take. As he moved to stand near her, there was the sound of something whizzing through the air. It screamed in the atmosphere. Lanceliah turned towards the large windows to watch the sky decorations. His fingertips brushed his mother’s palm just as the explosion hit.

*
“Ten minutes till we reach Okhotsk’s quadrant.” Pidge said, moving a few windows on eir display.

Keith edged the Polaris forward. He was keeping his eyes peeled for any kind of debris that might be floating around. With how many ships went down in this area, he wouldn’t be surprised if it looked like a space graveyard out here. As of then, they hadn’t seen heads or tails of another craft. Not since the last jump at least. They’d been flying through commercial zones for most of the trip. At the moment, their ship was disguised as a small escort vehicle.

There was a gag from the back of the ship. Keith glanced over his shoulder momentarily. Hunk was as pale as his tanned skin could get. He was sitting in his seat looking miserable. A sheen layer of sweat was on his forehead and his eyes were squeezed shut. It was obvious he was focused on his breathing and controlling his gag reflex. A small bucket with a snap-closure lid sat next to him in case he needed it. Hunk could generally handle the basic flight patterns now. But any kind of inter-dimensional jumps would mess with him no matter how few or how short they were.

“Crystallization detected ahead, Keith.” Pidge reported.

Keith turned his eyes back to the windows. “Rodger. Close up the vents, we’ll coast through.”

He adjusted the rocket output to minimal and redirected the thrusters to the smaller outputs at the rear of the ship. Pidge flicked a few switches and the whirring of vents closing were heard.

“What are our temps?”

Pidge pulled up a new screen from the corner. Data and numbers fluctuated in the pop-up. “In and out around 2.3 Kelvin. Rockets still stable.”

“Any idea what the field up ahead is?” Keith asked, eyeing the cloud of crystallization starting to come into view. It looked like a star had exploded and cooled into billions of tiny icicles.

“It’s coming in at right under 2 Kelvin.”

Keith cursed under his breath. “Will the rockets hold?”

“Keep it running warm, we should be fine.” Pidge messed with a few settings and squinted at eir displays.

“And the stabilizer?”

“No need for it yet. We haven’t reached the temperature that it would help in.”

He nodded then gripped the controls a little tighter. He hated flying in cold atmospheres. It was equivalent to flying blind. Most of the rockets had to be closed up to make sure crystallization or freezing didn’t happen to any of the internals. Which meant that the craft would be flying at slow speeds. Keith would much rather just blast through ice fields.

They entered the crystalized area and Keith switched the displays to sonar. There wasn’t much visibility through the high concentration of crystals. Thermals would be ineffective. The last thing Keith wanted to do was run into asteroids or other large debris in the middle of the field. He pulled back on the thrusters even more so the sonar could get accurate displays. His senses were on high alert because of his growing anxiety.

Pidge frowned at eir screen. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“What?”

“My radar says we should be two minutes out from Okhotsk’s gravitational field. But it’s not—I don’t see it. Shouldn’t we see an entire planet?”

“Unless this debris field is Okhotsk.” Hunk piped in from the back.

Pidge chanced a glance at Hunk. Some nerves had sunk into eir expression. Ey looked at eir screens then to Keith. Keith felt the anxiety settle in the cabin’s airspace.

“Captain Bartholomew wouldn’t send us on a fool’s errand. Pidge, can you up the sensitivity? Maybe the lower temperatures are throwing something off.”

“Yeah, I did that al—wait, what’s that?”

They all turned their attention to the front display windows. The sonar was showing something in the middle of the crystallization.

“There’s energy off the charts here. I can’t tell what it is. It looks like some kind of fluctuation in the transmatter.”

“You mean like a black hole?” Hunk asked.

“No it’s—“ Pidge’s eyebrows furrowed. “It’s more stable than that. I think it’s a warp portal.”

“I see it.” Keith said, squinting at the display. He flicked the sonar off. There was something off about a spot a few hundred yards in front of them. “Does it look like the air there is shimmering?”

“That’s gotta be it. What are you thinking Keith?”

“I’m thinking we should leave that thing alone!” Hunk chimed in. There was a note of panic in his voice.

Keith chewed on the inside of his cheek. “What if that’s the reason ships aren’t coming back?”

“Exactly why we should go around it!”

“You said its stable, Pidge?”

“Yessir.”

He stared at the shimmering area. Checking the fuel, he let out a breath. “We’re going in.”

“What!” Hunk sat straight up in his seat. “Are you crazy? We have no idea where that thing goes! What if it rips the ship apart?”

“Just trust me on this!” His voice was tense. Keith was nervous. “I’ve got a weird feeling about this. Besides, if it does, I’m glad we’ve got you onboard to patch us back up.”

Hunk stared at Keith unbelievingly then slumped back in his seat. The compliment seemed to have placated him momentarily. With the concession, Keith gripped the controls tightly. His entire body was on edge but there was something about the warp that made sense. There was no way he would be able to articulate it. His instincts made his hand on the throttle buzz.

“Buckle up. This could get bumpy.” He said. Pidge put on eir seat harness. Hunk picked up his bucket and groaned.

“I placed a beacon here that we should be able to jump to if we get spat out somewhere weird.” Pidge commented.

“Okay. Here we go then.” He pushed the thrusters up to three-quarters speed. The ship rattled around them. It was getting pulled in to the warp. “Entering warp!”

There was a lurch as the ship crossed into it. Space twisted around them momentarily. Keith saw flashes of something—it looked like memories. As soon as it was there, it disappeared again. Polaris’s warning lights started to go off.

“Report!” Keith shouted. He opened the warnings but didn’t understand them. They were warnings for systems that weren’t even in use.

“The electronics are out of control!” Pidge hissed. Ey were typing frantically. “Sorry, assisted piloting is going to be offline for a second. Let me—“ Ey cursed under eir breath. “External electrical currents are shorting our systems. Doesn’t look like it’s affecting engine or manual systems.”

“Keep it that way. I can handle it. No interference in steering systems detected.”

The alarms stopped and space shifted back into place with a sharp snap. This new silence was nearly deafening. Pidge clicked a few more keys and moved a few things on eir displays.

“All systems back online. And my radar says that we’ve found Okhotsk!”

“Uh—“ Keith’s voice was strained. “Not all systems.”

Pidge looked up. “What’s not working?”

Keith was wiggling the control sticks. “Now I’ve got no feedback on steering. We’re getting puled in.”

Pidge’s eyes fell on the looming planet. “Shit.” Ey went back to eir keyboard. The sound of eir fingers flying across the keyboard punctuated the tense, silent panic in the Polaris.

“This is mechanical. Hunk we need you.” Pidge said.

Hunk paled even further. “We’re flying. I can’t—“

“Hunk! You’re the best damn engineer on the entire Dauntless! Now get up and get those controls going again!”

Keith moved his hands to a different set of controls. “I can manually work the wings, but once we’re in the atmosphere if we don’t have the rockets back up—“

“Okay, okay. I get it! I’ll—“ Hunk swallowed his voice. His throat was tight and his hands shaking as he unbuckled himself from his harness. He grabbed his small toolbox and squeezed himself into the space under the front controls. A panel opened with a hiss and smoke came out of the opening. Sparks flickered erratically.

“Looks like the warp fried some of the wiring and circuits down here.”

“Can you fix it?” Keith asked, flicking his eyes downward. His arms were straining from holding the ship steady as it coasted closer to the edge of Okhotsk’s atmosphere.

Hunk tensed his jaw. “Yeah. I can.” His hands moved steadily and untangled the dead wiring. With careful precision, he was able to remove the old wires. One of the circuit boards had melted to its casing. Hunk pried it off using a small laser cutter.

“90 seconds till we enter the atmosphere.”

Some extended parts of the atmosphere created a pocket of cold air that hit the Polaris and it dropped a few feet. Keith grunted as he worked the pedals on the floor. He steadied the wings. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and he felt his gloves sticking to his palms. Hunk reattached the wires to a new board, sparks from his soldering gun tickled his face.

“60 seconds.” Even Pidge’s voice was more terse then usual. Eir fingers were still over eir keyboard.

“Hunk—“ Keith’s grip was so tight his hands were going numb.

“I’ve almost got it.” He said through clenched teeth. He worked around a wire. A couple lights on the front control panel blinked back to life.

“30.”

Hunk’s hands began to shake. Sweat fell into his eye and he inhaled sharply. He squeezed his eye shut and focused on the last two wires he had to attach. The last wire slipped its connection.

“15 seconds.”

Hunk worked to get it wrapped back around the end port. “C’mon, why aren’t you coming back?”

“10 seconds—Hunk—“

His eyes scrambled to find what was wrong. Then he spotted it. “There you are!” He reached in and moved a wire off a connection port.

The wings started to shake with how quickly the ship was hurtling towards Okhotsk.

“Hunk!” Pidge yelled. Ey had covered eir eyes as the timer on the display counted down from 5.

He wrapped a wire to a different port. “There!”

Keith pitched forward and restarted the rockets. The vents opened and the thrusters roared to life. He grabbed the controls and pulled up. The ship sharply raised and rattled with the force of its ascent.

“Hunk! You’re a genius!” Pidge shouted, relief apparent in eir voice.

Hunk let out a breath and rolled onto his back. “From now on, I vote no more jumping in random worm holes. Deal?”

“Deal.” Pidge and Keith said in unison.

“Enable rockets and engage stabilizer. Pidge, find me a good spot to land.”

“On it.” Pidge brought the sonar back up and started to map the planet’s surface. Keith worked on coasting easily towards Okhotsk. Hunk got up on wobbly legs and deposited himself back into his seat. He wiped the sweat from his brow but couldn’t keep the satisfied grin off his face.

“It looks like there’s a fairly large group of structures. A town maybe? The reports hadn’t said that this place was inhabited.”

“We’ll check it out. Maybe it’s from old mining teams.” Keith said, changing energy outputs to different rockets as they neared the surface.

“All right. Sending coordinates to the main computer. This should be a nice spot for us.”

Keith followed the directions and they swung around east. As they flew closer to the planet, they could see a city.

“Is that a castle?” Hunk asked, peering at one of the external camera displays.

“Looks like it. This place definitely used to have people here.” Pidge zoomed in on the camera’s image.

“What happened to them?”

There wasn’t an answer from Pidge or Keith.

*

Keith pulled his helmet down over his face. It hissed as it pressurized around his head. He breathed deeply to get the oxygen flow started. A couple things beeped at him and lit up his display. The suit checked out to be in fine working condition, no damage anywhere and all systems were fully operational.

“Pidge, do you read me?” He asked into his helmet.

There was a crackle and some feedback, then Pidge’s voice. “You’re loud and clear.”

“Okay, I’m heading out.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Hunk? I don’t think you should be going alone.”

“It’ll be fine.” Keith opened the air-lock and closed it behind him. “Scans showed no remaining life forms, so even if it had been inhabited once it isn’t now.”

Pidge hesitated. “Fine, but if you get into any trouble, I’m sending Hunk straight to you.”

“Got it.” Keith pushed open the door and braced himself against the outside air.

Okhotsk’s gravity was about the same as Earth’s, which was what Bartholomew kept the Dauntless at. The Polaris though had less of a gravitational pull due to a smaller onboard gravity engine and made Keith feel heavy. He took a second to get himself used to the force on the planet, taking small and cautious steps away from the Polaris.

“Doesn’t look like there’s much out here.” He reported.

“Head towards the settlement. I bet we’ll find what the Boss wants in that castle. I’ve sent coordinates to your suit.”

Sure enough, a little arrow popped up in the corner of his face screen. He turned so that the arrow was pointing forward and he started to walk. The ground underfoot was frozen, hitting the bottoms of his boots harshly. It sounded like he was walking on glass. Keith started to notice signs of battle outside the city limits.

“Looks like someone came and took these people out.” He said. “There’s a ship here—“

He turned towards a crashed ship that was sticking halfway out of the ground.

“Let me get a good visual on it. I’ll run it through the database and see who it belonged to.”

Keith’s eyes fell on the craft. Getting closer to it, he could see the designs and craftsmanship of it through the large blocks of ice that had grown along it.

“No need.”

“What? What do you me—“

“It’s Galra.”

The line went silent between them. An image from the side of the ship flickered onto Pidge’s screen. The purple insignia of the Galra Empire was crisp on the side of the crashed vessel.

“Shit.” Ey whispered. “I’ll start a scan for sentries. They wouldn’t have popped up on the other scan.”

“Rodger.” Keith reached behind him and grabbed the knife he always had on his belt. He pulled it from its holster and held it close to him. Pressing on from the ship, he began to see just to what extent the Galra had come.

Once in the city, buildings had been destroyed. Walls sloped to the side from having their supports blown out. There were craters in the ground from explosions. Traces of chaos were easily seen. The entire place was preserved in ice. Galra sentries and what looked to be locals alike were all trapped in large ice caps.

“Are you getting this?” Keith hissed into his comm.

“Yeah.” Pidge’s voice shaky. “This is super creepy. I’m not picking up any sentry signals. I guess they don’t handle the cold too well.”

“Small favors.” Keith pushed forward, careful not to touch any of the ice jutting out of the ground.

He checked the temperature gauges and found that it wasn’t any colder here than where they had landed. So then what had caused the ice phenomena?

“Pidge, are there any reports on what kind of people used to live here?”

“Let me check—“ there were some clicks between them. “Hold on. This is weird.”

Keith sidestepped the form of a woman covering a child with her body. “What?”

“It looks like there were files but—huh, but now they’ve been deleted from the systems.”

“Who’s systems?”

“Intergalactic Alliance.”

“Why would someone take the time to delete the files?”

“The same reason anyone deletes anything. There was something that someone didn’t want anyone else seeing.”

“Can you recover any of it?”

There was a pause, then Pidge’s voice. It sounded like ey were smiling. “Give me ten minutes.”

Keith nodded but didn’t say anything. He was just now entering the castle’s courtyard. The scene was just as gruesome there as it had been in town. Natives running from fire of blasters, soldiers cutting down nobles in flowing silks, women and children crouching behind pillars as if that might hide them long enough for help to arrive. Keith wondered absently why he didn’t see a presence of a military force here. Surely the people of Okhotsk had some kind of army.

As he journeyed farther into the castle, he saw that ice was taking over the entire palace. It was floor to ceiling and as thick as high grade steel. He tried chipping at one block with his knife and found the edge of the blade bouncing right off.

“This isn’t ordinary ice. Pidge how are those files coming along?”

“Well, I’ve got a bunch of partials right now. The basics are that we’re in the Kingdom of Neso. The Nesian people were said to have the ability to produce gems and precious stones out of thin air. They disappeared at the same time as the Alteans did. They’re cousin species apparently.”

“Wait, at the same time as the Alteans? Didn’t they fall right at the beginning of the Galra Rebellion?”

“Yeah. 10,000 years ago.”

Keith whistled low and turned to resurvey the scene. “So you’re telling me this has all been stuck for 10,000 years?”

“That’s what it looks like.” Pidge clicked a few more things open, adjusting a bit of code. “I’m not finding much else on them. As far as I can tell, they were a pacifist species and no threat to the Galra.”

“Maybe Zarkon thought they could revive Voltron.”

“Sounds kind of far-fetched, but that’s the best we have for now. I’ll keep working on it. Found anything interesting yet?”

Keith stepped over a chunk of ice that had fallen loose. “No. Just frozen people. I don’t even see any gems yet.”

“Try the grand ballroom. It would have doubled as a treasury during a siege.”

“I don’t know if this was organized enough to call it a siege. There were no plans to utilize this place.”

Pidge didn’t respond to that, instead sending a rough schematic of the castle to Keith. “Here, from what I can tell it’s a pretty standard castle structure. You should find the ballroom there.”

A small crown icon blipped in a sector on the screen.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Keith mumbled. He squeezed between two pillars of ice.

Moving deeper into the castle, he found a concentration of Galra forces. It appeared that they had started in the town and moved their artillery into the castle. There was a large concentration of Nesian people here too. They all appeared to be higher class. Frozen images of the nobles trying to push past one another to safety made Keith anxious. Even in their still forms could the fear be seen on them. The closer he got to the ballroom the more soldiers and sentries he found. Large and more frequent were the ice pillars that also made up most of the hallways. More than once he had to reroute his path in order to get through. It was like he was deliberately being guided somewhere.

His marker stayed steady on his display screen and he moved slowly towards the ballroom. He tried to tell himself to ignore the people around him. They’d been frozen for thousands of years—they couldn’t be saved. Keith hadn’t thought he had a strong sense of justice but seeing the defenseless people made his blood boil in a desperate way. There should have been someone to save these people.

No. They should have never needed saving.

Keith pushed down the bitter taste that the Galra empire left in his mouth. They were a violent and ruthless people. Details of their original rebellion had become victims to time. Any chance of defeating them had been lost with the destruction of Voltron. A mystical machine that had the ability to destroy the Galra forces. But now Voltron was just a fairy tale, an ideal every Intergalactic Alliance officer strove towards.

Finally he made it to the ballroom. He was struck by how serene the room was. Despite the chaos and mayhem that was right outside, the ballroom itself was quiet. Sunlight streaked in from the high, stained glass windows. Keith looked around at the walls, gently decorated in glittering jewels. Silks were hanging from the ceiling that created a softness to the room. There were no soldiers in this room and no signs of destruction, save for a single shattered window. It faced the town and must have been taken out by a nearby explosion.

He moved towards the raised dais at the far end of the room. There were two thrones there and some thick blocks of ice. Taking the steps slowly, Keith noticed that there were people at the top. A man and a woman wearing crowns were crowded close together. Their foreheads were pressed gently together and his hand was cupping her face. They must have been the king and queen. The streaks of tears down the woman’s face still looked fresh. It pulled at Keith’s chest in an uncomfortable way. The rich colors on their clothing was easy to see through the semi-frosted ice. But when Keith turned to the right, he was blinded by the sunlight that came through the large crystal there. He squinted against it and glared into the blaze. It subsided, like a cloud coming in front of it. Keith stopped breathing.

Suspended in the ice was a boy no older than him. A cape that looked like it was made from stardust sparkled behind him, creating a halo of light blue. A delicate looking silver circlet contrasted against his tanned skin. Markings that Keith had never seen before throbbed a dull blue across his skin. His eyes were closed and lips parted in such a way that Keith found himself leaning forward to hear what the boy had to say. This person was beautiful in ways that Keith couldn’t even describe.

“Holy shit.” Pidge’s voice was covered in static and startled Keith. “What kind of magic did these people have?”

“I’m gonna take a closer look.”

“What? No, that screams bad idea. Keith—“

Keith muted his comm systems. His footsteps echoed in the quiet chamber. They clicked in a cautious rhythm against the floor. He licked his lips nervously as he drew closer to the frozen boy. Tilting his head up, he stood before the ice block. Sunlight warmed his face and made the prince look like he would open his eyes any second. Keith held his hand out and took a step forward.

A loud crack like a thunder clap shattered the silence. Cracks streaked across the floor and traveled up the ice block like hungry vines. The ground shuddered and the floor started to separate.

“Pidge! Pidge what’s going on!” Keith threw his comm system back on.

“If you ever mute me again I will leave your ungrateful ass for dead, I swear!” Pidge yelled into the comm. “We’ve got some crazy energy readings going on! It’s like the planet woke up all of a sudden!”

“Okay, I’m getting out of here.” Keith turned around and started to move towards the exit. But the ground beneath his feet crumbled and slanted suddenly. He lost his footing and fell hard on his face. His knife skittered away to the side as he slid along the broken floor. He scrabbled to grab himself on the cracks but his gloved hands couldn’t get any purchase. Slamming into the ice block, he grunted with the force of it. He could feel the cool even through his suit and it burned with just how cold it was.

“Shit!” He rolled onto his back and pushed away from the block with his feet. He glanced up at movement above him, expecting some kind of ambush, and froze. The ice was falling away from the boy. It broke off in pieces and as it fell it disintegrated into small crystals. Keith pushed himself up on his elbows and stared in awe. Soon the boy was free from the ice, his cape rippling behind him. The markings on his skin now glowed a steady, pure blue.

Keith glanced to the side and reached for his knife. He had barely grabbed it when the other boy’s feet tapped softly against the floor. Keith’s eyes burned from not blinking and he held his breath. The boy’s arms came down to his sides and the cape settled around him. The broach that held the cape glittered in a mirthful way. Then the markings on his skin and the jewel in the circlet faded. His knees gave out and he fell forward.

“Hey!” Keith moved automatically and got his body under the other boy before he smacked his face into the ground. He winced at how cold the boy felt. But his chest rose and fell which Keith wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried.

Pidge came across the comm, voice fading in and out. “Keith—me—can you—“

“What? Pidge you’re not coming in. I’m gonna try and get to higher ground.”

With that, Keith looked back at the boy. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. Then he sighed and groaned to himself. As if this wasn’t weird enough, now he had a tag-a-long. Keith hoisted the unconscious male on his back. He grunted with the effort and inhaled deeply. It was awkward and difficult to get up the steep slant of what was left of the floor. Sweat ran down the middle of Keith’s back and his display worked double time to keep the screen from fogging up with his breath. He crested the top of the sinkhole and nearly collapsed. Carefully he put the boy on the ground.

“Pidge? Do you come in?”

“There you are!” Pidge sighed and it sounded relieved. “That energy I told you about is messing with our electronic systems. We need to get off this planet.”

“I’m headed back.”

“I’ve got some interference shields up but I don’t now how long they’ll hold.”

“I’ll be quick.”

The castle shuddered again, walls beginning to moan from the effort of standing. Keith cursed under his breath. He sheathed his knife and struggled to get the prince up on his back again. There was a sound to his right and when he turned to look at it, a crack had shot through the ice surrounding the king and queen. Keith frowned. Had the queen always been smiling? Another rumble went through the castle and Keith took off. He didn’t have time to remember if the somber smile pulling at the queen’s lips was there when he first entered.

Ice had shifted and shattered against the floor as Keith wound back through the castle. Doorways were opened and it became a straight shot out. He sent up a small thanks to whoever might be listening. The town blurred around him as he focused on the homing beacon on his screen. His lungs burned with the effort and he thought his legs would stop working any second. The Polaris came in to view and Keith didn’t think he would ever be happier to see his ship.

“Open the hatch! Get systems online for immediate take-off!” he shouted into his comm.

The back hatch on the Polaris lowered and had barely touched the ground when Keith came stomping inside. He slammed his fist to the close button and entered the air-lock. It hissed behind him as it closed and sealed the inside once more. Hunk looked up from what he was working on and his eyes went as round as dinner plates.

“What the heck is that?”

Keith dumped the prince in the extra seat at the back of the ship. “Something interesting.”

He hopped in to his seat and flicked some switches, tossing his helmet next to him. “Rockets online.”

Pidge stared at Keith, mouth gaping open. He barely glanced at em.

“How are the electronics holding up?”

“Steady for now, but uncertain to how long it’ll stay that way.” Ey said curtly. Keith could tell ey had questions but it was a long flight back to the Dauntless. Pidge would have plenty of time to tear into him later.

“Buckle up. Prepare for departure. Hunk, strap in the cargo.”

“Cargo!” Hunk squealed from the back. There were the quick sounds of safety harnesses being fastened. “I am full of questions but we’re all clear for take-off back here.”

“Hang on.” Keith slammed the thruster forward and the Polaris came to life. It hummed as the rockets warmed up. The ship pushed against the gravitational force of Okhotsk and took to the sky. They soared up into the atmosphere and left the planet behind them. Keith hit the snowflake icon on his dashboard.

“Stabilizer engaged. Exiting atmosphere.”

Hunk looked out the window and watched as the planet seemed to fall in on itself. Ice crawled across the land and swallowed it up. The whole thing disappeared underneath the sheets of sparkling ice. A wave of nausea hit him and he reached for his bucket, turning away from Okhotsk.

“Pidge how fast can you get us a jump out of here?”

“Can’t do a jump, but there’s a hole on your three o’clock.”

“Exit point?”

“Outside the Black Eye galaxy.”

Keith glanced at em and they looked just as perplexed as Keith felt.

“Will the Polaris survive that long of a warp?”

“The readings are coming up completely stable.”

“What did we agree on random warp holes?” Hunk piped up.

“It’s not random though.” Pidge said, clicking a couple things. “This one looks pretty safe.”

Keith rubbed his thumb across the top of the thruster. “Chance of becoming space dust?”

“45% chance. But that’s a fairly standard rate for warps of that range.”

“We’re taking it.”

“Seriously?” Hunk wailed.

“Pidge, what’s the chance of becoming space dust if we’re still in this quadrant when Okhotsk implodes?”

“By my calculations it’s around 100% space dust probability.”

Keith turned and looked at Hunk. “The math doesn’t lie, Hunk.”

Hunk looked like someone had kicked a puppy. He begrudgingly hugged his bucket to his chest. Keith gave a self-satisfied smile. His eyes flicked to the prince, still unconscious and slumped in his harness. When Keith turned back to the front display, his grip on the controls tightened.

“Entering worm hole in ten, nine, eight—“

He tilted the controls towards the entry point. The space around the worm hole shimmered and Keith could see hints of the inter dimensional tunnel inside. When they were close enough, the Polaris was sucked inside the worm hole. It closed behind them just as the rear thrusters cleared the opening with a pop.

*

“Engaging auto-pilot.” Keith mumbled, inputing coordinates for the Dauntless.

“Arrival time approximately: 4 hours.” The computer said at him. Keith let out a small breath and took his hands off the controls. He pushed his hands out in front of him, trying to relieve some of the tightness in his shoulders.

“All right. Spill it.” Pidge said. Ey had turned eir chair towards Keith, looking over eir glasses at him. Ey jutted eir thumb in the prince’s direction. He hadn’t stirred even a little bit during their departure and subsequent warp jumps.

“Captain Bartholomew said to bring back anything interesting. I figured a guy encased in ice was pretty interesting.”

“I’m sure what the Boss meant was gems! Why didn’t you pocket any of those?”

Keith shrugged. He stood from his seat and moved to the back of the Polaris. Hunk eyed him warily.

“What do you think the Captain’s going to do with him?” Hunk asked. “He doesn’t really look like he’d make a good member of a space pirate crew.”

Pidge put eir face in eir hands. “Probably sell him. I bet he’s got a slave trader on speed dial.”

“No way.” Keith stiffened and turned on Pidge. “Bartholomew’s not like that.”

“He’s a pirate boss. He’s only interested in glory and riches.” Pidge rolled eir eyes. “Don’t try to make him into some valiant hero.”

“That’s not—“ Keith pushed an irritated breath out of his nose.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you’re good friends with the Boss. Of course you would know him better than either one of us.” Pidge spat sarcastically. Eir eyes snapped angry fire.

“Pidge, I don’t really think now is the time for this.” Hunk tried, holding his hands palm forward in front of him.

Keith bit his tongue for a second and quelled his anger. “I’m not that close to the Captain. But I do know he hates slavers more than a lot of things. When have you ever known him to interact with slavers?”

“That’s right!” Hunk nodded. “I remember once when I was younger—before you came onboard Pidge—we overtook a slaver’s ship. Captain Bartholomew took out all the slavers and bundled them up real nice for the Alliance.”

“What about the slaves?” Pidge asked skeptically.

Hunk thought for a second, rubbing his chin. “He gave them a choice—return them from where they came from, or they could join his crew. Most of them wanted to go back and Captain Bartholomew arranged for their returns.”

“Did any of them join?”

“I can’t really remember.” Hunk said slowly. “It was like twelve years ago. Keith, you’ve been with the crew for about that long. Do you remember any of that?”

Keith felt his hands getting clammy. “No. It must have been before I joined.”

“Really? Yeah I guess that’s about right.”

“Okay.” Pidge interrupted. Keith couldn’t have been more glad for the change in subject. “What the heck are we gonna do with him? Is he even alive?”

“He was breathing when he came out of the ice.” Keith knelt in front of him and started undoing the safety harness. He left the belt across his thighs there in case they hit any turbulence.

“Was he cryogenically frozen?” Hunk asked, leaning and putting his ear over the boy’s mouth. “He’s alive. Should we try to wake him?”

“Maybe we could get some information from him. After all, information is just as tradable. Especially since the file’s been nearly completely destroyed.” Pidge mumbled.

“Fine.” Keith reached out. He tapped the side of the guy’s face. No reaction. He smacked him a little harder but still nothing. The prince’s head just lulled slightly to the side.

“After sleeping for 10,000 years I wouldn’t want to wake up either.” Hunk joked. Keith shot him an unimpressed look. He held his hands up in defense with an apologetic smile. Keith sighed through his nose and brought his attention back to the boy strapped in their extra seat. His eyes fell on the jewel holding the cape in place. Veins of dark purple and navy streaked through the jewel. It’s clarity was even higher than a diamond and cut with such precision Keith wasn’t convinced it hadn’t been made by a machine. He reached up to unpin it and take a closer look. When his fingers touched the surface of the gem, it flared bright white. They all covered their eyes and turned away from the flash.

The next thing Keith knew he was being pinned to the floor by a grip across his throat. He blinked away the black spots still plaguing his vision. He saw the seatbelt broken in two, frozen right down the middle. When his eyes finally made their way up he was shocked by the bright blue eyes that greeted him. They were swirling with malice and—fear? The cape settled around them and Keith momentarily thought he was being swallowed by a star.

“Keith!” Pidge shouted. Hunk stood to grab the man off him, but the ship yawed sideways suddenly.

“Debris field detected. Evasive maneuvers engaged.” The computer said tonelessly.

“Grab the controls!” Keith directed, fingers scraping at delicate wrists. He moved his arms to put his palms flat on the ground. Quickly he arched his back, pushing up onto his head from his legs. Then he dropped just enough to put space between their chests and wedge his hand between them. He turned into the boy’s body, getting his legs around the other’s legs. They flipped over right as Pidge jumped into the pilot’s chair.

The Polaris swerved and dipped to avoid larger asteroids and debris. Pidge’s grip on the controls were so tight eir fingers were turning white. The sudden and constant motion was making Hunk sick. He kept trying to get up to help Keith but would be immobilized by body wrenching gags.

“Stop!” Keith hissed at the struggling boy beneath him. He noticed that his breath was a visible fog. He pinned the boy’s arms with his knees and sat on his chest. Although Keith’s body was lithe, he was still heavy with muscle.

“Hieg numan obtus!” The boy’s voice was rough from disuse. He seemed surprised by the gruffness of his own voice. The confusion settled into the furrow of his brow. This however seemed to bring a new fervor to his struggle.

Irritated, Keith pulled his knife out from behind him. “I said cut it out!”

“Forlanz siegion ad Galref!”

“Pidge! Translation!”

“Busy flying!” Pidge’s voice was strained wth concentration. But ey were able to smack a couple commands into the computer and a language codex popped onto the screen.

“Damn—“ The boy kicked Keith and he winced. He brought the knife flush with the boy’s neck. “Stop!”

He went stock still, the blade depressing his skin slightly. A slow swallow made the knife bob. The dark metal started to develop condensation on it, as if it was a window against a snowstorm.

“Galref lin onajium.” He growled.

“Translation incomplete. Language unknown. Finding linguistic similarities.” The program announced.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Just hold still!” Keith waited for the boy to stop moving completely. Then he pulled his knife off his throat. He kept it in his hand in case the prince decided to showcase some of his skills of the magical persuasion. Hunk groaned towards the side of the ship. His bucket was sealed tightly shut—never a good sign.

“Ald ib vergonzia!” He shouted, resuming his wiggling beneath Keith.

“Comparable linguistic composite 75%. Most likely translation: You killed my people.”

“Computer, translate! We won’t hurt you.”

The computer whirred out an appropriate response. This seemed to shock the boy. His eyes widened and he stopped struggling again.

He stared straight into Keith’s eyes and a shiver ran through the pirate. “Quid onajium Galref.”

“Most likely translation: You wield Galra weapons.”

Keith frowned and glanced at his knife. It was one of the only material things he had left of his father. Really it was all he had of his father. He shook his head to clear it.

“Can you understand me?”

After the computer spoke, the boy shook his head. “Omot flori poran.”

“That means, you have a strange tongue.” Pidge grumbled, reading the translation.

They exited the debris field and Pidge threw on the auto pilot again. Ey grabbed a small communicator and placed it in eir ear. There was a second one that ey also grabbed. While he was pinned, Pidge put the comm into the prince’s ear. He was shocked and tried to wiggle away from em but Keith kept him still. After the earpiece was on, Pidge spoke.

“This does real-time translations.” Ey waited as the surprise fell on the prince’s face. “It should help you understand what we say. Is it working?”

He nodded. “Veritamiun.”

“I’m going to allow my friends to hear you too, all right?”

He listened to the earpiece then nodded again. Pidge pulled up eir portable display and patched the earpiece into the Polaris’s speaker system.

There was a delay in the translation-to-output as he spoke. “Who are you people?”

Keith realized that he was slightly disappointed the output wasn’t in the prince’s voice. He supposed it would be too difficult to manipulate the limited sound data from the few words spoken into full speech patterns. He wondered idly if it would be difficult for the boy to learn their language. Slowly he unpinned him, but he didn’t move very far in case he became trouble.

The prince glared at him. He sat up, rubbing the sore spots where Keith’s knees had just been. No longer under immediate threat, he looked around the ship. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Lights winked at him and meters changed in an unconventional way. This strange little space confused and intrigued him.

“We’re adventurers.” Pidge answered after a second. “We were told to find your planet.”

“You are told where to adventure?”

“Sort of. Can you tell us what happened to you?”

He looked between them before looking down. He clasped his hands, running his thumb over the back of his hand. “We were—destroyed. The Galra came with no reason. Our people protected us.”

“What do you mean?” Pidge frowned.

“They blocked us in.” He said with some difficulty. It seemed like he was searching for certain words and failing to find the right ones. “Kept the Galra away.”

Keith wracked his brain. It had looked like the people were running from the ballroom. But thinking on it now, there was no desperation on their faces. They were dutifully resolved in their charge. Maybe they’d been rushing to confront the Galra forces coming to take their kingdom.

“The royals? They are here too?” He asked, voice strained. Keith glanced down and noticed that his grip had tightened.

Pidge glanced at Keith. Hunk spoke quietly, voice hoarse from what made that bucket shut now.

“Do you think he means the king and queen?”

Pidge took a moment before ey answered. “You’re the only one we recovered.”

The silence in the cabin was thick enough to eat. The boy closed his eyes for a second and Keith watched his chest expand in controlled increments. When he opened them again, they were clear and strong. He stood so quickly that the Polaris’s crew were all startled.

With a graceful bow, he spoke in a steady voice. “I am Prince #%&@ of the Family $!%#. I am the sole survivor of the Kingdom of Neso on the planet Okhotsk. I am in your care.”

The translation flubbed when he used names. Pidge tried to tweak some of the phoneme control.

“Your name again?”

Once more, the computer had issues translating it across.

“Lance.” Keith said after the third try. “It sounds like Lance.”

Hunk nodded. “Yeah. Maybe Lance McClain?”

“Isn’t that erasure of culture?” Pidge grumbled. Keith answered it with a glare. He turned to Lance and bowed his head. Bringing his arm across his chest, he respectfully bowed to the prince.

“We’ll call you Lance. Welcome to my ship, the Polaris.”

Even without Keith using the translator, Lance nodded in understanding. His mouth quirked into a cocky grin.

“My name’s Lance.” He said in crisp United Language. “Nice to meet you.”

Pidge’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “Holy shit. Did he just—”

“Yeah, I think he did.” Keith whispered breathlessly. His voice had sounded good in his native tongue, but hearing it in UL made a shiver go down Keith’s back.

“I hate to ask.” Lance rubbed the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. “But I’m quite hungry—“

“Not a problem! I’ll whip you something up that’ll satisfy even a 10,000 year hunger!” Hunk got up from his seat and moved to a storage cube.

Lance walked around the cabin and checked out all of the ship’s hardware. As Hunk got to work on a quick snack, Pidge shuffled over to Keith.

“What the fuck did you bring back?” Ey whispered.

Keith’s eyes were admittedly wide as he watched Lance move about. “A magical ice prince named Lance who can apparently learn languages near instantly.”

“Oh, right yeah. Of course. Because that’s normal!” Pidge threw eir hands up in exasperation. Lance reached out a hand and pressed a button. “Don’t touch that!”

Pidge hurried over and slapped Lance’s hand away from the computer’s control panel. Ey glared at him from behind eir glasses. Lance mimicked Hunk’s earlier gesture of holding his hands up in front of him. But his lips were pulled back in a playful grin.

“Approximate time until arrival: 3 hours.” Chimed the computer’s piloting system.

Keith plopped down in the back seat. He allowed himself to slouch. Out of habit, he reached back and thumbed at the hilt of his knife. A sort of shock went through him as he recalled what Lance had said about the blade. He pushed it away with a hard swallow and flicked his eyes up to find the prince. He was startled when he saw that Lance was watching him from where he stood by Pidge. The look Keith received was neither kind nor playful. It was cold and dangerous.

The pilot clenched his jaw tightly and looked down. What in the world had he found? Lance was definitely “something interesting” but just what had Bartholomew been expecting? A thought crossed Keith’s mind momentarily that Bartholomew knew they would find Galra rebellion forces on Okhotsk. But had he even calculated for them finding Lance and bringing him back? Keith shook his head.

He stood from the chair and crossed to the pilot’s seat. He turned auto pilot off and settled back onto the controls. Lance’s gaze was like a hole boring into the back of Keith’s head.

“Snack time! You’re not a vegetarian are you, your highness?” Hunk asked, turning with a platter full of some mixed up emergency rations.

Keith groaned internally. “Everybody to your seats. I’m shortening the flight time.”

His gruff tone made Pidge frown. Ey moved to eir seat and strapped in. Hunk helped Lance with the safety belts and munched on the food with him. He was quietly explaining the subtleties of flash dried food and how careful you had to be when reconstituting it. The dangers of rationed food soup were very real. Lance nodded enthusiastically and listened intently. The Polaris lurched forward as Keith pushed the thrusters into a higher output.

Lance glanced every now and then towards him. His eyes always fell on the glint of the hilt that peeked out from its holster. Rage bubbled up quiet inside him. He barely kept his teeth from grinding. Between samples of the food, Lance spoke softly.

“You are all related?” He asked.

Hunk snorted. “No. Not by blood at least.”

“Then you are married?”

“That would be even worse!” Hunk’s eyes were sparkling with suppressed laughter. “We work together. Although, I guess we’re kind of a family. I doubt Keith sees it that way though.”

“Keith is—?”

“Oh, right sorry. I’m Hunk. The smart little one over there is Pidge. Then our grumpy pilot over there is Keith.”

Lance nodded. “Are you all adventurers?”

“I guess so. We all have specific jobs. We’re part of Captain Bartholomew’s crew.”

“That sounds pretty impressive.”

“It’s a ragtag group of rough housers and prison dodgers.” Hunk shrugged. “But it’s the only family we have.”

“Your people are gone then? Like me?”

“Sort of.” A discomfort caused Hunk’s shoulders to come in slightly. “I never knew my parents. Pidge is looking for eir family. But Keith…I don’t really know what Keith’s story is.”

“I see.” Lance eyed the dark haired male warily. Something about him set Lance’s instincts off. He figured it had to do a lot with that knife he carried. Plus when Keith had bowed to him, Lance was immediately reminded of the times when they’d attended diplomatic banquets on Altea. He had a vivid memory of the Galra moving in the exact same way. Not to mention the way that Keith had easily outmaneuvered him—

“Hunk.” Keith gruffed. “Asteroid belt up ahead.”

Hunk looked up and blinked. “Okay, well I think so long as you take it easy I should—“

“I’m not slowing down.” His grip tightened on the controls. Hunk sighed heavily. He leaned over and picked up a trash can—a different one than before.

“I apologize in advance for any sounds that you may hear in the coming minutes.”

Lance frowned in confusion. Keith smirked and curved his body towards the controls. He licked his lips momentarily then pushed the Polaris nearly full speed into the asteroid belt.

Chapter Text

“This is your home?” Lance exclaimed. He was holding one of the external camera’ s monitors up to his face. The Dauntless flickered on the screen. “It’s enormous!”

Hunk smiled. “Yep! It’s size is only comparable to a Galra warship.”

“I would not want to meet that on any battlefield.”

Pidge flicked eir eyes to Lance and Hunk in the back. They flicked a switch on their control panel. “Polaris to Dauntless. Requesting permission to dock.”

There was some static as the dispatcher came through the line. “Polaris you’re clear for docking. Report to Docking Bay P3.”

Keith and Pidge shared a startled look. Pidge nodded. “Rodger. Preparing to enter docking bay.”

Ey turned off the comm and looked at Keith. “They’re sending us to the Boss’s private bay?”

“Seems like it.” Keith grumbled, shifting the controls to bank around to the docking bays on the north end of the Dauntless.

Hunk glanced up from the monitor with a frown on his face. Even Lance was able to realize the tense air in the cabin. He glanced at Hunk’s face then at the stiffness in Pidge’s shoulders. Keith’s body language remained the same, but Lance noticed that his hands had shifted into a different position on the controls.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. Keith’s hands tightened on the controls.

“Let’s hope not.”

They docked silently, Keith glaring out the front window. He recognized some of Bartholomew’s personal crew and Commodore Perry waiting at the bay. There were only two other ships in that docking bay. It was easy for Keith to pull into the designated space for the Polaris. Not soon after the rockets had turned off was Commodore Perry advancing towards them. Keith stood from the pilot’s chair.

“Stay here.” His voice left no room for argument, not that Pidge or Hunk were giving any. They were on edge and it was obvious. Keith exited from the side door, the hydraulics hissing with the motion. Lance stood from the chair in the back and moved to the front of the cabin. He watched curiously from the front display screen that remained transparent. A thought flickered through his head that Keith looked small in comparison to the other men and yet he didn’t appear afraid in the slightest.

“Commodore Perry.” Keith bowed his head and saluted with his arm across his chest. “We have returned from our mission.”

Perry returned the motion out of habit but he seemed distracted. He kept glancing at the Polaris. “Were you successful in your findings?”

“The information we gathered about Okhotsk is hardly extensive. We’ll cover what we can about it in our report. However, I must report that the planet itself has collapsed and I’m unsure of what might remain.”

“It collapsed?” Perry’s eyebrows rose.

“Yes sir. Collapsed may not be the best word. It was more like—“ Keith paused for a second. “It became covered in ice.”

“I see. Were you able to recover anything from the planet at least?”

“As Captain Bartholomew commanded, I brought back what I felt was interesting.”

“And? Where are the jewels, pilot?”

Keith’s eyes narrowed at the tone in Perry’s voice. “We found no jewels captain, but we did find a survivor. He claims to be the crown prince of the Nesian people who resided on Okhotsk.”

“The prince?” Wickedness flickered through Perry’s eyes. He motioned over his shoulder and the other men who were with him moved forward. “Bring him to the captain.”

They pushed past Keith and onto the ship. “Wait, you can’t—“

Pidge’s shout from inside the Polaris made Keith’s head snap up. He watched as the men pulled Lance out of the ship. Hunk tried to hold one of them back.

“Stop! What are you doing?”

They shoved Hunk back and he banged harshly into the ship’s side.

“Hey—“ Keith finally shook himself out of the stupor he’d been in. Perry’s arm reached out and held him in place.

“Captain’s orders.”

Keith glared and shoved Perry’s arm off him. Lance kicked against the rough hold the guards had on him. Despite Perry’s insistence, Keith moved to where the guards were practically dragging Lance.

“He has legs. He can walk.” Keith spat at them. He put his hand under Lance’s elbow, helping him get back up on his feet. “What’s he gonna do? Run away somewhere in the Dauntless?”

The guards looked to Perry and the commodore shrugged. Keith was momentarily surprised when Lance leaned into his support. The contact between them was warm and Keith wasn’t sure why he didn’t expect that. Lance steadied himself then shot a glare at the two guards.

“I didn’t realize that people these days were so barbaric.” He said with a sneer.

“We of course offer only our most sincere respect, your majesty.” Perry said, voice thick with latent sarcasm. “As is such, our captain would like to speak with you.”

Lance eyed Perry warily. This wasn’t his first turn about the table. It was also starting to become increasingly clear that he was in no position to resist. Especially if the two brutish guards who’d so pleasantly handled him previously were sticking around. He cleared his throat and straightened his spine, hoping that maybe rising to his full height would make him look more intimidating. With some pleasure, he noticed that Perry was shorter than him by at least a couple inches—as was Keith.

“I’ll have accords with your captain, so long as I am accompanied by my escorts.” He waved a hand back towards the Polaris’s crew.

“Your escorts?” Perry looked between the motley crew who seemed just as shocked as he was.

Keith groaned internally. This was turning out to be more trouble than it seemed it was worth. But the way that Perry was acting was making Keith incredibly skeptical of the entire mission.

“He’s our asset, Commodore. It’s only right we be there.” Keith managed diplomatically. Although the whole thing made his skin crawl and he fought to keep his hands from balling in to fists. At least the weight of his knife was comforting on his back.

Perry exhaled heavily through his nose as he considered his options. After a moment and a hard blink he leveled his gaze with Keith. “Fine. You may accompany him. However, don’t feel emboldened to speak when it is not necessary.” His gaze fell pointedly on Pidge who pulled eir shoulders back defiantly.

“Follow me.” Perry instructed. He turned on his heels. The two guards came up the rear as Hunk and Pidge joined Keith and Lance.

Lance leaned close enough that his breath was warm on Keith’s ear. “You can let go now. I’m all right.”

Keith startled and whipped his hand away. He felt a bit of a blush on his cheeks. He didn’t even realize that he’d still had his hand on Lance’s elbow. The prince gave him a strange look, trying to figure him out. Deciding that it was going to take more than a cursory glance into Keith’s eyes, Lance shook his head.

“After you.” He mumbled.

“Right.” Keith said as he cleared his throat. He took the front position, leaving Lance to join Pidge and Hunk in the middle. Pidge glared at one of the guards behind em and the man sneered right back.

*

Captain Bartholomew looked stunned. His eyebrows were nearly in his hairline. A curious light flickered in his normally dark eyes.

“This is better than I expected.” He turned a smile on the Polaris’s crew. “Good work. You’ll be paid handsomely for this one.”

Commodore Perry frowned. “Sir, they failed to retrieve any gems and even say that Okhotsk is now unable to be explored.”

“Ah, but they brought back the brightest diamond of them all.” His gaze sharped as he looked at Lance. “Isn’t that right, your highness?”

Lance felt his stomach drop. Suddenly he wanted to be nowhere near this place. He took a half-step backwards. Keith glanced at Lance and noticed his unease. There was a ringing in Lance’s ears, like a message trying to break through static. Bartholomew stood from his seat and walked to stand in front of Lance. Roughly grabbing the prince’s arm with one hand he drew a knife from a hidden pocket. He pressed the flat end of the blade against the pale skin of Lance’s forearm.

Bartholomew flicked his gaze up to meet Lance’s. “Quality check, surely you understand.”

With a swift and easy motion, he turned the sharp edge into Lance’s skin. Lance hissed and flinched back.

“What the hell?” Keith shouted. He grabbed Lance’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Captain what—“

His words caught in his throat. From the cut in Lance’s arm, pearlescent blood dripped smoothly across his skin. When it fell from his arm it crystalized in the air and hit the floor with small dings. Keith watched a small pile of what appeared to be diamonds gather on the floor. He realized belatedly that Lance was shaking. Keith snapped out of it and ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt.

“Calm down.” Keith said lowly. He wrapped the strip around Lance’s arm, stopping the blood flow.

Bartholomew bent down and picked up some of the gems. He rolled them in his palm. A sharp smirk settled onto his lips.

“Commodore, contact the buyer. Set up a meeting time.”

Perry nodded and turned to the control panel. Bartholomew roughly grabbed Lance’s chin, forcing him to look up.

“It’s too bad we didn’t find you first.” Bartholomew said. “I’m sure we would have gotten much more use out of you.”

When Bartholomew dropped Lance’s face Keith moved between them. Surprise once more moved Bartholomew’s features.

“You sent us on a contracted mission?” Keith asked.

“What’s wrong, Keithy boy? Don’t like being the hired help?”

Keith clenched his jaw and bit back his first response. Anger rolled off him in waves. “You knew this whole time? About what we would find?”

“I only followed the directions given to me by the provider. Now—“ Bartholomew stooped to get his face even with Keith’s. A coldness that Keith hadn’t seen in years stared at him harshly from Bartholomew’s eyes. “Remember your place aboard my ship, Kogane.”

His nostrils flared with his pent up frustration. “What should we do with Lance?” he ground out.

“Lance? I never would have thought you’d have such a common name.” Bartholomew laughed. “What was it you said to Perry? Oh right. As you said Keith, he’s your asset after all. I believe there’s a room near Holt that he can stay in for the time being.”

Pidge could hardly keep the glare off eir face. If it weren’t for the hand Hunk had on eir shoulder, Pidge probably would have gone straight for Bartholomew’s eyes.

“You three are responsible for him. Make sure he doesn’t get damaged. At least not until we can set up a time for delivery. Understood?”

The silence stretched in the room, save for the sounds of Perry clicking away on the communications. Bartholomew’s lips curled angrily.

“I said, is that understood?”

“Yes sir.” Keith said with some difficulty. He looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with Hunk. Motioning towards Lance with his head, he turned back to Bartholomew. Hunk came up and put his hands on Lance’s shoulders. Lance startled before realizing who it was. He relaxed slightly even though he was still visibly tense. Keith stared at Bartholomew for a moment. The captain stared right back without any signs of remorse. Clicking his tongue, Keith bowed his head and crossed his arm in salute.

“To your glory.” he said mechanically. Then he turned and followed Hunk, Pidge, and Lance out of the office.

The door had barely shut behind them when a ping on the monitor signaled a new message.

“Sir,” Perry said, “We’ve received a response from the contractor.”

Bartholomew stared at the closed door for a moment longer. Then he shook his head and walked to the control panel.

“Get on with it.”

*

Pidge opened the door to eir room, a light flickering on automatically. Lance hesitated in the doorway.

“The large man said there was a room near here—“

“He lied.” Pidge said harshly. Ey went about shoving pieces of equipment from a bed on the far side of the room. The crash and clang of metal pieces hitting the floor startled Lance. It was an angry motion and he didn’t understand where it had come from. When the bed was clear, Pidge fluffed it up and snapped the dusty blanket over the top of it.

“All yours.” Ey grumbled, skulking over to eir bed. Ey sat down heavily on it before laying on eir back.

Lance gingerly entered the room. He sat down on the bed, whatever material inside of it creaking in protest to his weight on it. The fabric of the blanket was surprisingly soft under the palm of his hand.

“Can I ask—“

“No.”

He twisted his mouth shut quickly. Pidge didn’t stir from staring at the ceiling. Lance watched for another moment then began to fidget with the makeshift bandage on his arm. The image of his blood turning to gems was seared in his mind’s eye. Pidge glanced over at him.

“It’s for my brother.”

“What?” Lance looked up.

“You were gonna ask who the bed’s for, right?” Pidge waited for Lance to nod. “It’s for my brother.”

“Is he on a mission?”

There was a pause.

“He’s missing.”

Lance stared at Pidge, realizing he’d stepped on some kind of landmine. “Hunk said something about you looking for your family. I’m—“

“Don’t.” Ey sat up and glared at Lance. “If you apologize I’ll kick you out and lock the door behind you.”

“Okay.” He swallowed thickly. He chewed on his next remark for a second. “Are you mad to be sharing your room?”

“No, that’s not it. I didn’t think the Boss knew I had another bed in here.”

“I was thinking it’s a little—uh—cramped in here for two people.” He eyed the technological junk pointedly.

Pidge snorted a laugh out of eir nose. “It’s messy I know. I don’t really expect visitors after all.”

“Not Hunk or Keith?”

“Keith?” Pidge laughed. “As if he would ever come see me on his own. Would probably rather chew his own foot off. Not to mention Hunk thinks this place is a trash-heap and tries not to come within 50 clicks of it if he can help it.”

“How come?”

“He says he’d be compulsively compelled to clean it.”

“That would take days!”

Pidge gave him an unimpressed look. “Last time it took eight hours.”

“Hunk is a saint.” Lance said shaking his head. He absently scratched at the bandage on his arm.

“Want me to take a look at that?” Pidge nodded towards the cut. “I’ve got a medkit in here somewhere.”

“Sure.” Lance watched as Pidge rummaged around in a pile near eir bed. Ey produced one with a triumphant shout. Pidge stood and plopped down next to Lance on the bed, bouncing him slightly.

“Sorry if this stings.” Ey said, opening the kit to grab some disinfectant and real bandages. Unwrapping the strip of cloth ey muttered under eir breath.

“Seriously who even does that whole turn-my-shirt-into-a-bandage thing? Only people in action movies.”

“It was kind of cool.” Lance admitted. Pidge’s look said ey weren’t believing it. Lance shrugged, turning to check out something on the wall. “I was shocked—a man cut me!”

“Yeah, okay.” Ey rolled eir eyes and moved the cloth out of the way. Eir hands paused over his arm.

“What? Is it gross?” He asked.

Pidge frowned. “It’s gone.”

“Huh?” He looked down at his arm and blinked twice. Hard.

The skin of his arm was unmarred save for a small white line where the cut had been. Pidge eyed him, moving eir gaze over him slowly.

“Just what are you, Lance?”

Lance lifted his arm and rotated it in front of his eyes. He watched as the markings on his skin flared silver for a second. Then when they faded so did the last remaining bit of the cut.

*

Keith rolled the broach in his palms. It flickered in the dull light of his room. He knew that he should return it to Lance. There was something about it that made Keith believe it was more than just an accessory. It was warm in his hands but the heat reached to a part deeper inside of him. The feeling was tinged with sadness. He let out a breath and sat up. Staring at the ceiling wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

The route that Keith took to Pidge’s room was a less used one. Not many people used these sets of hallways. They were some of the older portions of the Dauntless’s interior and not as nice. Lots of the engineers stayed in these parts because they could be as loud as they wanted in their creations without worrying about bothering anyone else. There was still some honor among thieves—well maybe just a modicum of respect at least. Only a few people scurried past him, hunched over whatever jumble of metal and wires they were carrying.

When he reached the hallway that ended in Pidge’s room he heard laughter coming from the end of the hall. Keith frowned to himself and walked the last few feet to the door cautiously.

“How are you so good with the shells!” Lance yelled, voice barely muffled by the door. Pidge only responded with maniacal laughter. The music that accompanied them was what Pidge said was from a game called Mario Kart. It was a game where you played as strange little people who drove around in weirder cars and threw vegetables at each other. Despite all his prowess behind the controls of a ship, Keith couldn’t get it for the life of him. He said it was because the controller didn’t respond like it was supposed to.

He raised his fist to knock. The broach sat heavy in his other hand. Another bout of laughter filtered through and Keith felt his stomach clench. He withdrew his hand and slid the broach into his pockets before turning from the door. His footsteps echoed emptily off the metal walls.

Lance glanced at the small monitor next to the door that showed a view into the hall in front of the door. He pretended to be interested in what Pidge was describing as “the most brutal and ass-busting stage of all time” as he watched Keith stand in the hall. When the dark-haired male turned away from the door, Lance brought his attention back to the game. He was bombarded with a rainbow color scheme.

“Rainbow Road. Mario Kart 64 edition.” Pidge declared proudly, gripping eir controller with reverence.

“My ass will remain unbusted, thank you very much.” Lance said. His eyes kept sliding back to the hall monitor.

He fell off the stage seventeen times.

*

“Are you sure about this?” Hunk asked. He paused in what he was working on in the Polaris’s underbelly. Keith also stopped with his repairs of the outside.

“Yeah, we don’t need the stabilizer running full power—“

“No, not that;! I mean this thing with Lance. The whole contract thing isn’t sitting right with me.”

Keith lowered the polishing rag and looked at Hunk who had rolled out from under the ship. He let out a slow breath through his nose, leaning against the Polaris’s side. He crossed his arms over his chest. It was something Hunk had learned meant Keith was nervous.

“I haven’t been able to get any information about the contractor or even the rewards. But Bartholomew had talked like there was gonna be a huge payback on this one.”

“Who would want Lance?”

“Did they even know he was there?”

Hunk frowned. “You think they just wanted jewels?”

“Pidge found that most of the information on Okhotsk had been wiped out. That means if they knew Lance was there, they were probably involved in destroying the data.”

“So you’re hoping they didn’t know about Lance.”

“Yeah.” Keith nodded. “I think we might be playing with some bigger fish than we’re used to.”

“I mean, it’s not like the captain makes deals with monsters right?”

“He’s smart, but he’s greedy too.”

Hunk’s frown turned inward and his brows furrowed. “We go to the meeting point tomorrow right?”

“Yeah, they’re moving Lance to one of Bartholomew’s rooms for the night.”

“This just keeps getting worse and worse.”

Keith looked at Hunk for good minute then turned back to the ship. His rag was still on the side.

“We’ve got to stay on our toes, all right?” He said quietly, he began to slowly polish the Polaris.

*

“I don’t agree to this!” Pidge shouted. Hunk tried to calm em but found that more difficult than wrangling a mongoose.

“It’s captain’s orders we can’t—“

“Are you kidding me? There’s no fucking way that I’m letting Lance go by himself! This whole thing reeks of bad news.”

The four of them—Pidge, Hunk, Lance, and even Keith—all stood in Pidge’s room. One of Bartholomew’s men would be there soon to take Lance off to the captain’s quarters.

“Pidge it’s not like there’s anything we can do.”

“Yeah but Lance didn’t do anything to deserve this!” Pidge hissed, frantically motioning to Lance. He was quiet and seemed a bit pale. Keith watched him carefully and let his fingers tap a restless beat against the crooks of his elbows.

Lance was different than Keith had expected. True, he’d only been on the Dauntless for a couple days while Bartholomew set up a meeting point with the contractor. But Lance had settled in like the place was his home. He got along with Pidge and even helped Hunk out with his little mechanical things he played with. They’d found some left over clothes that other crew members had either scavenged or grew out of and given them to Lance. His dark skin looked good against the olive green of the worn jacket and his long legs fit nicely in the light wash pair of jeans. There were a few holes in them, but nothing that Lance ever complained about.

Maybe putting him in clothes that Keith was used to is what changed how he looked at the prince. Even so, Lance was normal. He talked with them like they were all equals—not like he had some serious magic ice prince thing going on. Lance had managed to slide in to the little group of Earthlings effortlessly. Well, with Pidge and Hunk at least. He and Keith weren’t exactly on friendly speaking terms. Lance’s accusation about Keith’s bloodline hadn’t been forgotten by either of them.

“What are you gonna do then?” Hunk suddenly fired back. “It’s not like you can go up to the captain and call this all off! No matter what it’s a job Pidge! I don’t like it either but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“I’ll—I’ll figure something out!” Ey said, eyes darting uncertainly to the floor.

The air tense among them, Lance cleared his throat. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’m sure that whoever paid for this job didn’t want me specifically. When they find out that there’s no jewels or anything like that, they’ll back off.”

He waved his hand as if to dismiss the whole thing entirely.

“The Boss’ll be pissed if there’s no money.” Pidge grumbled.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t deal with slavers.” Hunk’s eyes lit up. “So if the buyer really doesn’t want Lance, then the job’s off. Lance is safe.”

Keith’s expression soured. Bartholomew never played a game he couldn’t win. There had to be something they were missing. As he opened his mouth to speak, there was a knock on the door. The screen that showed the exterior hallway flicked to life. Two of Bartholomew’s men stood outside. Pidge looked anxiously from the screen to Lance who looked just as nervous.

“That’s my escort.” He said shakily, trying to keep his tone light. The silence stretched in the room and covered them all like a blanket. Lance stood after a second knock slammed against the door.

“Lance—“ Keith stood up and grabbed the sleeve of Lance’s jacket. Startled, Lance ripped his sleeve from Keith’s grip. They stared at each other with the unspoken command sitting heavy on Lance’s lips.

Don’t touch me.

His jaw tensed before he turned back to the door. With not so much as even a glance, Lance stepped out of the room. As the door was sliding shut, Keith watched the guards step into place in front and behind of Lance. The sounds of their footsteps damped with the closed door and disappeared quickly into the maze of the Dauntless’s hallways.

Pidge cursed in frustration and kicked at a pile of parts on the ground. Even Hunk let out a heavy sigh and then stood.

“I’m gonna go cook something. Anyone hungry?” He wasn’t surprised when his offer was met with no answers. “I’ll bring some back when I’m done.”

With Hunk and Lance out of the room, Keith felt uncomfortable. He didn’t think that Pidge considered them “friends” and moreso as “work acquaintances.” Hunk had been on the Dauntless when Keith first came aboard. Since they’d been about the same age, the two were quickly paired together in social situations. Even so, Keith wasn’t sure that he and Hunk would be on the level of “friends” either. It made a small, cold stone settle in his stomach.

“I’ll go check on the ship.” He mumbled dumbly as he got up from where he was sitting. Pidge only grunted in response but kept eir back turned. Keith couldn’t help the bitter twist of his mouth. He left without another word.

Walking down the hallway, Keith was painfully aware of how loud and solitary his footsteps were against the metal flooring. They clicked with the heels of his boot and bounced from the walls to the ceiling. He stopped for a second and listened. Nothing. There were no other people down this hall. Once again he was alone. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists at his side.

Enough, he thought.

*

“I’m going with you.”

Captain Bartholomew and Commodore Perry both stared at Keith. He had barged in to Bartholomew’s sector, one of the only crew members outside of Bartholomew’s personal men allowed to. Now he stood defiantly at the foot of Bartholomew’s long, scratched up table. Perry lowered the spoon of soup halfway to his mouth.

“What a ridiculous thought.” he commented.

Keith clenched his jaw but straightened his shoulders. “Something’s off about this deal and I intend to see this mission through.”

“You’re becoming more insolent by the day.” Perry growled. “Captain, I think this is a matter we should cut off at the roots. Before more heads grow.”

Perry and Keith stared each other down, a sort of perverse rivalry between the two of them. Perry always looking for the approval of the Captain and Keith always receiving it. Bartholomew looked between the two of them and then began laughing. This surprised both Keith and Perry, causing them to look towards the man rather than glare daggers at each other.

“Of all the things,” Bartholomew said after getting his laughter under control. “I never thought I would see you come to me for something Keith. I’ll allow it.” He grabbed his goblet to drink.

“Sir! I must disagree!”

Bartholomew raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Why’s that Commodore?”

“Well, it’s—“ Perry sputtered. “He’s a child.”

“I’m twenty years old.” Keith said with a scowl. “Old enough to have a family if I wanted. I’ve been with this crew for the last twelve years. I’m more than qualified to accompany a simple delivery mission.”

“He has a point.” Bartholomew nodded. There was humor in the quirk of his lips. “Any more objections?”

Perry was at a loss. Rage boiled up inside him and he felt heat spread through his veins. “I’m merely concerned for his safety.”

“Keith’s?”

Keith was as surprised as Bartholomew was. “Mine?”

“It seems only appropriate.” Perry settled back in his seat. He brought his spoonful of soup back to his mouth. “After all, we’ll be returning to where he came from in the first place.”

Bartholomew’s gaze tightened and any semblance of enjoyment slipped from his features.

“Slavers?” Keith hissed, fire and anger rolling off him in waves. A hint of fear crept into his voice but he battled to keep it down. “You’re working with slavers, Bartholomew?”

“Heavens no.” Perry said before Bartholomew could respond. “How distasteful.”

“Who’s the buyer?” Keith bit out. His eyes bore into Bartholomew and momentarily the captain struggled to keep eye contact. It had been a long time since he’d seen those cold eyes on Keith, a sort of calculated violence. But he recognized them like the back of his own hand and knew he couldn’t work his way out of this one.

“We only know the contact by the pseudonym they’ve given us. He calls himself the Purple Lion.”

Keith’s heart froze in his chest. All the anger sapped from him in a single moment. Fear replaced it immediately.

“Did you know the name the whole time?”

“Yes.” Bartholomew admitted. “He contacted us specifically for this job. Knowing that he would most likely need to operate outside the channels to get what he wanted.”

“So you’ve known that—and then Lance? Was he your real objective all along?”

“He was always a possibility. We were told to see if there were any survivors on the planet.”

Keith controlled his breathing, harshly pushing it through his nose. He counted each breath out in his head before speaking again.

“How much?”

“That’s hardly—“ Perry began.

“How much?” Keith said again, letting the words drip like venom from his mouth.

“Three billion units.” Bartholomew said, voice steady.

Keith’s nostrils flared with his surpassed anger. Bartholomew noticed his fists shaking at his sides with how tightly they were clenched.

“I really thought you were more honorable than this.”

Bartholomew frowned. “Keith—“

“Dealing in human trafficking and with the Galra of all people?” His anger made his voice waver. “I thought you were better than that, Bartholomew.”

The statement hung in the air for a moment. Perry’s soup had gone cold and he pushed it away distastefully. Bartholomew looked down at his own food then back up at Keith.

“Bay P4. 0600 sharp.” Bartholomew said gruffly. He stood from the table, letting the chair scrape against the floor. He didn’t look at Keith as he moved out of the room. Perry dabbed at his mouth with a napkin before standing himself. He made a point to walk by Keith as he exited the room.

“What a homecoming, huh, slave?” he whispered as he passed Keith.

The mark on Keith’s hip burned and brought the heat of rage back into his veins. When the door closed behind Perry, Keith slammed his fists into the table and he yelled until his throat burned.

Chapter Text

Bay P4 the next morning was tensely quiet. Intermittent yawns from a couple workers in the bay broke the silence. Keith stood off to the side, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He watched listlessly at the slow movement of the men preparing the ship. Bartholomew, Perry, nor Lance were anywhere to be seen. Keith checked his watch and clicked his teeth in irritation. They were supposed to leave in half an hour.

A few more minutes passed and Keith felt his anxiety radiating through his bones like bees. At any minute he thought he would vibrate right out of his skin. He felt like everything should be moving faster. They needed to be out in space as fast as possible. That way this could all be over and done with and Keith could move on with his life. He was surprised at how unsettled he was by everything that was happening. Usually Keith was calm and collected, but the entire event set him on edge.

At ten of cast off, the main doors opened. The workers all stopped what they were doing to turn to who entered. Keith, too, moved his gaze towards the doors.

“To your glory,” came the echoing response of the workers as Bartholomew stepped through the door. He was flanked by Perry and two guards trailed behind. Lance was between the four men and looked miserable—actually he was literally sparkling.

The clothes that Pidge had found Lance were nowhere to be seen. He was back in something similar to the princely attire they’d first picked him up in. The light blue fabric reached to the floor and swished delicately about his ankles. It wasn’t exactly a dress but more like a robe as Keith noticed a dark, royal blue set of clothes underneath it. There was power and also fragility in this get-up. Lance’s circlet had returned to his forehead and it appeared that a light dusting of glitter had been added to his skin. Much to Keith’s annoyance, it wasn’t distracting in the least on Lance. If anything, Lance now appeared to be a beacon of beauty in this grimy pirate ship.

Lance kept his gaze straight and his chin high. Even so, Keith could see the way his mouth was kept in a terse line. There was a moment that Lance’s gaze flickered around nervously, as if he could make sense of what was happening in some new way. When his eyes fell on Keith, they were startling blue. It was probably the combination of the fabrics on him and the glitter catching the light around his eyes. But it forced Keith to suck in a surprised breath, sending a chill down his spine to his toes. Something akin to anger flickered in Lance’s face then fell away to frustration and settled on desperation. His footing faltered and a guard caught him by the elbow roughly to keep him from falling. Lance harshly pulled out of his grip, snarling at the man. The guard only chuckled in amusement—as a cobra would grin at a cornered mouse.

“Prepare for take off!” Bartholomew yelled into the bay. There were grunts and shouts of acknowledgement from the crew. Bartholomew looked around and noticed Keith. A hint of surprise raised his eyebrows but then his lips spread into a satisfied smile.

“Glad you could make it.” Bartholomew said, moving over to him. Keith straightened but did not salute Bartholomew. Perry frowned with a rage barely contained in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be scared off by an easy trip like this, Captain.” Keith responded easily, although he was looking pointedly at Perry. Anger still simmered beneath his skin from their exchange last evening. But as Keith had taken out his frustration in a training simulator that night, he realized this might be a chance to learn about his past.

Bartholomew’s grin turned predatory with a glimmer of pride. “Then onboard with you. We’ve got a hard deadline to meet.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the guards and motioned with his head towards the ship. The guards nodded and herded Lance onto the walkway.

“Hey! I’ve got two legs that work just fine!” Lance growled as he was pushed up the ramp.

“Yeah and apparently so does your mouth.” Hissed the guard on the left. Lance flushed with embarrassment and anger then disappeared into the ship.

Keith looked at Bartholomew and the captain shrugged. “We have shown him all the hospitality that he deserves, I assure you.” Then he too walked up onto the entry ramp. Keith began to follow after him when a tight grip crushed his upper arm. He wheeled around and glared at Commodore Perry.

“You’re a fool.” Perry whispered venomously. “Don’t think you’ll gain the captain’s favor with this.”

He raised an eyebrow at Perry, as cool as he could appear. “Afraid you’ll be out of a job, Commodore?”

Perry sputtered, his rage veiling his face in red. “Y-You brat!”

Keith regarded him with disinterest then shook himself out of Perry’s grip. “Mind yourself. After all—“ Keith’s gaze sharpened and cut across the man. “I am Captain Bartholomew’s favorite.”

With that, he turned and made his way onto Bartholomew’s personal craft, The Royal Fortune. The ship was only a few times larger than Keith’s Polaris. It was a ten-rocket craft, despite its moderate size. The speed that accompanied the compact ship made it the fastest of its size on the Dauntless. It could fit a crew of seven comfortably and still leave plenty of room for spoils of adventure or capture. The Royal Fortune was the first thing Keith had ever seen of Bartholomew’s. The sleek black and dark, glittering blue of the exterior cut through space like a shark through Earth’s ocean depths.

The interior was much the same. Dark colors and low-lit lighting kept Royal Fortune from being easily spotted. Some of the engineers had developed a jammer that even made it difficult for sonar to detect the ship. Essentially, unless Bartholomew wanted it to be seen, the Royal Fortune was undetectable. Bartholomew sat in the captain’s seat right at the front windows. Perry took his spot to the right of Bartholomew and their engineer, Calico Jack, in the left seat.

“Systems working properly.” Jack said, typing at the keyboard. It was a projected keyboard which allowed Jack to move about the cabin as he needed. Bartholomew nodded and flipped a couple switches on the control panel.

“Rockets warming up. Time till departure, T-minus two minutes.” Perry reported, checking charts and graphs popping up on the display before him.

Keith moved to the back of the craft. The seats were laid out in a 2x2 pattern. Lance was sitting in the back row, hands clasped tightly in his lap. The two guards were sitting in the front two seats. Keith slid in the seat next to Lance and was miffed when Lance didn’t even glance at him.

“Lance—“ He tried.

“Save it.” Lance gruffed back. “I don’t want to hear anything from you, Galra.”

Keith winced despite himself. “Look, I’m not—“

“You are!” Now Lance looked at him, fear sparking through his blue eyes. “I heard what they said last night. I was in the next room.”

Keith groaned internally. He swore he was going to find a way to kill Perry and make it look like an accident. He glanced down at Lance’s hands. They were shaking. Keith rubbed his own palms absently along his thighs.

“If you heard that then you heard the rest of it.” Keith’s palm went to his hip where it ghosted over the mark branded into his skin. “I was a slave. I don’t know what my past was or what my heritage is.”

He looked up and met Lance’s gaze. “Even if my blood should be Galra, I have never once associated with those monsters. And I never will.”

Lance regarded him for a moment then slowly opened his mouth. “You—“

“Rockets ready for take off captain.” Perry said. He moved a few things around on his screen. “Inputting meeting point coordinates now.”

Bartholomew’s grin showed his teeth. “Open the bay doors!”

The ground beneath them rumbled as the large storm doors began to slide open. The expanse of space was before them, the shattered planet just barely out of view of the opening. The Royal Fortune’s floor began to vibrate as Bartholomew raised the rocket’s outputs. A loud clunk sounded through the air as the doors opened the rest of the way, a dull grey metal maw leading out into the beyond.

That first moment of weightlessness as the Royal Fortune rose from the ground made Lance’s stomach lurch. Moving in the Royal Fortune was very different from being on the Polaris. The weight of the larger ship was more noticeable as it strained against the Dauntless’s artificial gravity. It rocked and vibrated with the stabilizing of the rockets. Lance noticed Bartholomew’s teeth were sharp as the man looked over his shoulder at them.

“Sorry boys.” Bartholomew grinned. “We ain’t got any seatbelts here.”

Then he pushed the throttle forward and the Royal Fortune shuttered as it pushed out of the bay. Panicked, Lance reached down and grabbed onto the edge of his seat and whatever else he could grab for stability. He squeezed his eyes shut and held on as the ship bumped through the airspace around the planet. Only once they evened out did he dare open his eyes. His heart was beating loudly and he could hear the rhythm through the blood in his ears.

“—ce—”

He felt his lips trembling and his knees were shaking.

“—ance—“

The clothes he was wearing were too foreign, too heavy. He felt like a performing bear and his heart tightened in fear.

“Lance!”

Quiet and fast, the voice hissed in Lance’s ear. He startled and whipped around to the source. Keith was close, barely a few inches away from him. He glanced down between them then back up at Lance.

“That hurts.” He whispered. Lance looked down as well and saw his own hand wrapped tightly around Keith’s wrist. He let go like Keith burned him and saw the redness on the other boy’s skin. Keith retracted his hand and rubbed it gently with the other.

“S-Sorry.” Lance mumbled.

Keith looked at him from the corner of his eyes. “The Polaris has different stability mechanisms. We’ve got smaller rockets and less weight to move. That’s why it’s smoother on my ship. The Royal Fortune is built for speed, not comfort.”

“It’s fine.” Lance said quickly, trying to cover his anxiety. He was mostly upset that Keith was able to read him so well. A moment later he noticed a weight on his thigh. He looked down to see that Keith had laid his hand on Lance’s thigh, palm up. Keith’s face was faintly red when Lance looked back at him.

“Hunk—When I was little I used to have nightmares, panic attacks.” Keith explained, quietly enough that the two guards in the seats a couple feet in front of them wouldn’t hear. “He always let me hold his hand until I calmed down. It helps you stay grounded.”

“Wow, I’m embarrassed for you.” Lance said on impulse. Keith flinched and started to pull his hand away. Lance shot his hand out and grabbed Keith’s, surprising them both.

“Sorry that was—I didn’t mean—“

Keith let out a long, small breath. “I know.”

Lance was surprised at how nice it was to hold Keith’s hand. It was warm and uncharacteristically soft, despite having a few calloused spots. There was a strength to his grip that Lance could tell hid just under the surface. Lance didn’t mention the dusting of pink across Keith’s cheeks so Keith thought it only appropriate not to mention the same color sitting on Lance’s.

*

Keith had heard of Galra warships. That they were a beast on the horizon, lumbering purple and hulking mass. He’d even outmaneuvered a few Galra fighters here and there. He wasn’t so proud as to keep track of how many he’d even shot down in the Polaris. Although there was definitely a set of tick marks in the system that Pidge kept updated. For research purposes, of course. But even so, he could have never been prepared for the Royal Fortune to come out of an asteroid belt and crest around a large planet. Waiting on the other side, like a lion waiting at the edge of the watering hole, was the Galra warship.

And they were the antelope.

He took in the sigils that lined the broadside of the ship, the sharp lines of the Galra symbol shining against the dark purple of the metal. This one was a little different though. It had the same basic construction of a warship, but it looked sleeker somehow. Like it wasn’t bulked up with plates to outlast a battle. The most noticeable difference was that it didn’t have a large ion cannon on the top of it.

“We’ve received permission to dock, Captain.” Perry said, translating the message into UL as it came across. Lance watched the strange Galra symbols scroll and shift into letters that were a little more recognizable. The cold nervousness that had been creeping up Lance’s spine now spread into his fingertips. He brushed his hand against Keith’s again, the two having since dropped their hold. Keith shifted his gaze over and gave Lance a small but firm squeeze before pulling his hand back. It landed on the hilt of his blade, fingers tapping dully against it.

Bartholomew carefully steered the Royal Fortune into the docking bay. The bay was mostly empty. Although there were a couple scouting ships docked off to the sides of the runway. A small group of sentries headed by a female Galra general waited in the bay. The two guards in the ship rose to grab Lance but Bartholomew cleared his throat.

“No need boys. You all will stay with the ship.” he commanded. He rose from the pilot’s chair and stretched his arms. A kind of hardness had fallen on his features. This demeanor he reserved for transactions and battle. Keith still wasn’t sure which one was about to take place. Bartholomew tilted his chin at the two younger males.

“You’re both with me.”

“Sir—“ Perry stood from his seat. “Should I not also accompany you?” He was glancing nervously at Keith.

“No.”

“But Captain—!”

“I would only leave this ship in the most capable hands.” He fixed Perry with a weighted stare of which Perry swelled and straighten under.

“Understood.” he crossed his arm in salute and nodded his head.

“Stabilizing cabin pressure.” Calico Jack muttered, hands flittering over buttons. Then he pressed a large one that made the side door open. The walkway lowered to the ground and stopped with a metallic thud against the floor of the docking bay.

“Keith, bring up the rear.” Bartholomew said, moving into the open doorway. “Lance you in the middle. And no funny business. I’m sure I don’t have to remind either of you that we aren’t in friendly territory.”

Both Keith and Lance nodded when he turned a stern look on them. They took their places in the line behind Bartholomew. Keith supposed he should find some comfort in Bartholomew taking the lead, yet there was still a pit in his stomach.

The general, Keith could now see, was a Galra halfling. She stood nearly as tall as Bartholomew. Her blue eyes examined the three of them as they moved closer. Her armor was simple and of Galra design. It appeared more sleek than what Keith was used to seeing. Of course, the sentry robots were made for stealth and even so she had an element of elegance to her. She brushed her hair from her face and nodded at them.

“You have the agreed upon item?” she asked.

Bartholomew nodded. “I have completed the contract as assigned.”

“Very well. Follow me then.” She turned and began to lead the way. Bartholomew got into step a few paces behind her. He motioned with his hand to Lance and Keith. Keith was close on Lance’s heels. In such a way that it made Lance think he would step on his heels or the trailing edge of his robes. The group of six sentries stepped in behind them.

As they travelled down the halls, Keith noticed a few other halls going off in different directions. Glancing down one, he noticed a line of people being led away. They weren’t restrained in any way but they were all wearing the same outfit. He wasn’t able to get much more as their group was ushered forward. Recalling what he saw of the outside of the ship, he realized they were headed towards the front of it. One by one, the sentries stopped at different posts along the walkway. When they made it to the double doors of the main hall there were two more sentries posted outside. The woman waved her hand and they stepped aside.

The doors swung open slowly. Inside the room the lighting was different and Keith glared against the change in brightness.

“Sir,” she began, “I’ve brought our guests.”

“Excellent.” replied a smooth, male voice. “Thank you Acxa, at ease.”

She nodded and walked to one side of the room, joining another female general. This second general smiled wide to her then gave a curious look to Bartholomew and the two boys following behind him.

“Oo! They’re both quite pretty!” She said cheerily.

“Ezor.” Acxa scolded. The other general, Ezor, didn’t falter in her smile. Her multicolored eyes twinkled with amusement.

Bartholomew took a few steps into the room and Keith squinted around him to see the figure sitting in the chair before the display window. Keith always heard tales of the Purple Lion from the pirates who frequently went through Galra territory. He was a skilled pilot and an even more harrowing opponent in combat. Stories told of expert swordsmanship that was like an intricate dance. There were many instances where the he was likened to space itself, fore shifting and changing—an unbridled power below the surface. Sometimes visions of the Purple Lion haunted his dreams. This fighter eight feet tall and built of pure, sinewy muscle. A person so massive he blocked out the sun. What he hadn’t expected was a hybrid. What Keith could never have expected was that the Purple Lion was beautiful.

Looking upon the dais, the Purple Lion was slumped in a nonchalant position. He waved his hand and moved some files of information from the screen. It disappeared and let the endless expanse of space show across the window. His skin was a gorgeous, deep lilac that showed his Galra heritage. But his facial features were softer and more like a human’s. The sharpness to his jaw and cheekbones hinted at Altean blood but even Keith brushed that pairing aside as improbable. Fine, white hair as radiant as starlight fell well past his shoulders. An unruly strand fell down the middle of his face, giving both a boyish and roguish charm. His blue eyes shone brightly through the yellow of his eyes down at them. When he smiled, Keith stopped breathing for a second despite himself.

“Good to see you’ve made the trip safely Captain.”

“The terrain wasn’t so treacherous. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Bartholomew said with a grin. A bit of cockiness had seeped into his posture. He had much of his weight on one foot with his hip out. There was an upturn to his mouth.

The Purple Lion grinned, returning the smirk. “Glad to hear it. Have you brought the goods?”

“Of course.” Bartholomew motioned with his hand over his shoulder. “Keith.”

His tone snapped Keith out of his daze. He blinked away the image of the man before them. Keith moved forward and put his hand on Lance’s elbow. Lance flinched at the contact, like he had forgotten the other was there. Keith brought Lance forward, the robes swishing about the two of them as Lance moved. At the sight of him the Purple Lion straightened. His expression tightened and it looked like he wasn’t breathing.

Tension was in the air. Something that hadn’t been there before despite the circumstances. The Purple Lion stopped in his approach. Lance lifted his eyes and stared straight at him unflinchingly.

“It’s been some time, your highness.” Lance said quietly. But even his small voice seemed like a shout in the silent room.

With this a semblance of relief came to the other’s shoulders. “That it has, friend.”

“I’m sorry.” Lance’s nostrils flared. “But I’m fairly certain our friendship ended when your soldiers destroyed my people, Lotor.”

Keith cursed in his head and looked between the two. The Purple Lion was Prince Lotor? He had always figured such a skilled fighter had to be high up in the ranks. But the prince—

“What a bittersweet reunion.” Bartholomew said with a chuckle.

“It appears there are ramifications to be made.” Lotor sighed. He looked down thoughtfully for a moment then back up at the group. “You have completed the contract. Three million units, as promised.”

He motioned with his hand and Acxa came forth again. She had three fat pouches in her hands and held them out to Bartholomew. He regarded the bags then looked back at Lotor.

“Eight million and he’s yours.”

“What?” Acxa hissed. Lotor’s gaze sharpened even more so, Keith thought it would cut them in half.

“Usually, the bargaining chip is kept safe. Is it not foolish to bring him here and so brazenly demand more?” Lotor asked, voice dripping with ice.

Bartholomew held his hands in front of him in a defensive gesture. “I mean no disrespect your highness. Even I’m not stupid enough to make enemies out of the Empire. We took a lot of damage for this mission and I fully expect to have reparations made. You’re an honorable man. Your fair and just leadership is an example to all.”

Lotor chewed on this for a moment. The praise seeming to sway him slightly. “Four million.”

“Seven.”

“Five.”

“Meet me in the middle.”

“You want double the agreed payment?”

“I lost a lot of crew members on this. Your descriptions of the planet had failed to mention the dimensional rift that has developed outside it’s orbit. We were not prepared for a mission of this scale. Had we known, we may not have accepted the contract.”

“I am truly sorry for your loss and I give you my deepest condolences. However, I am afraid that we don’t have the resources for that kind of bargain.”

“I know one life isn’t worth that much. I’ve taken out enough slavers in my time to know at least that much. Which is why I’m offering you two.”

Bartholomew reached out and pushed Keith forward roughly. The shove nearly knocked Keith off his feet. Realization hit Keith like a shock and he looked at Bartholomew with wide eyes. The captain resolutely refused to meet his gaze. Lotor chuckled deep in his throat, a sound that sent heat down to Keith’s toes. He slowly looked back at the prince.

“What would I want with this scrawny human?”

“He’s the pilot who got your boy off Okhotsk.”

At this Lotor’s brow raised. “This young one? The asteroid fields outside Okhotsk are—“

“Did I mention the dimensional rift?” Bartholomew said nonchalantly, picking at some dirt underneath his fingernails. “He would fit in well with your crew.”

“A halfling?” Lotor said, voice light with curiosity. Finally he took the few steps to close the distance between them. Lotor reached out and put his finger under Keith’s chin. Keith couldn’t fight him as his face was tilted up. Up close, the blue of Lotor’s eyes was startlingly similar to Lance’s.

“Hm,” Lotor hummed to himself. “There does seem to be a spark of Galra in you. Interesting. I can’t say I’ve heard of too many Galra-human hybrids who survive into adolescence. There could prove to be some use for you.” His voice dropped conspiratorially as he glanced over at Lance. He’d moved closer to Keith when Lotor came up. His eyes were challenging and the marks on his skin flared a warning. Lotor’s mouth pulled down into a frown.

“I’ll have to speak to my council about this. I will not pay you for the boy as I am no slaver. Just a man looking to fix the mistakes his predecessors have done. Should you have no use for him I would gladly take him into my crew.”

A snarl rippled across Keith’s face. He straightened himself, suddenly filled with hot rage. “I’d rather be thrown into space than work for you.”

“Keith.” Lance hissed. Keith’s jaw tensed as he held Lotor’s eyes.

“I will never be a slave again.” Keith’s voice was little more than a whisper. But there was venom laced into the words. Lotor looked at him again, as if really seeing Keith for the first time. There was understanding in his expression. But worse, there was also a hint of pity.

“I’ll send word to my council right away. We should have a resolution by morning. Since you’ve presented these negotiations, I’m sure you don’t mind the deadline being extended by a day?” Lotor swung his gaze back to Bartholomew. The man shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

“Of course not. You’ve been most gracious, your highness.” Bartholomew swept his arm across in a mock bow. “We’ll take our leave—“

“No. His Highness will remain here under my watch.”

Bartholomew gave Lotor a chilly glare. “You must understand he’s still my ward until the contract is complete? I couldn't just leave him here. I know it would never cross your mind to leave but that’s not to say he isn’t a flight risk.”

“Understandable. Then why not leave your man here as well? I’m sure you never operate without a fail-safe, Captain.”

“That I don’t.” Bartholomew’s crooked grin crossed his lips. “Then I leave them both in your capable hands for the evening. I’ll return in the morning.”

“A fair compromise I would say.” Lotor turned to Acxa who stood there looking less than grim. “Have them prepare the banquet hall. I have much to catch up on with an old friend.”

Lance scowled at him momentarily before looking back at Keith. Keith looked at Lance for a moment then angrily at his feet. A little voice was bubbling up in the back of his head. It whispered of betrayal. Lance was friends with Lotor. Lance had hated him because he was part Galra and yet he had some kind of history with the prince. Bartholomew had planned on abandoning him there since the beginning. It was all a trap expertly baited to get Keith right where Bartholomew needed him to be.

Keith thought he was the king, but he had been the pawn all along.

Check

Bartholomew clapped Keith on the shoulder harshly. Keith raised his lip in a snarl at him. There was a scheming glint to Bartholomew’s dark brown eyes. He smiled at Keith.

“Enjoy your field trip, Keithy boy. Tomorrow’s another day.” He raised his eyebrows for a second, as if to relay some secret message. He patted Keith’s shoulder once more then removed his hand. He was reluctantly led back out of the main chamber by another of Lotor’s female generals. This one had no discerning facial features and a cat curled delicately around her shoulders. As they left, Ezor came up. She slinked behind Lotor, looking bemused.

“Want me to kill him?” she whispered delicately in his ear.

He grinned and shook his head. “No need. While the halfling may be a valuable asset to us both, there’s another fail-safe I’m missing. Like he said, he would never operate without one.”

Ezor looked almost disappointed but she brushed it off. “Where do you want me to take them?” She gestured to Keith and Lance, both looking small and nervous now that Bartholomew had left.

“His highness is to be put up in our guest quarters. I shall fetch him at meal time.”

“And the human?” She purred, coming up next to Keith and leaning down to look him in the eye. Keith frowned and turned away from her. She pouted openly.

“Take him with the other visitors.”

Her grin widened in amusement. “Two royal treatments, coming right up.” She looped her arms between Lance and Keith, her grip surprisingly firm. “This way gentlemen!”

She ushered the two out of the room, the large double doors closing behind her. A few of his generals lingered in the room but they soon filtered out as well. Lotor stood there for a moment then moved back to the top of the dais. He stared out into space for a second, hands clasped loosely behind his back. Then he waved a hand and some old photos came up. He pointed at one and it came to the center of the screen. It was the same banquet picture that he had sent Bartholomew. He’d known that the vision of jewels and golden goblets would entice the man. He pinched and zoomed in to the corner of the image. There, in faded colors, was a smile he hadn’t seen for thousands of years. One on his face and another on a boy with eyes the color of crystal blue oceans.

*

Keith glared at the bars of the cell as a sentry tossed him inside. He hissed out a curse and kicked against the bars. The metallic clang rang through the hallway, Keith giving a grunt of discomfort. He crouched down and rubbed at his foot.

“Man, fuck this.” he grumbled.

A laugh behind him catches Keith off guard. He swirls around on the sound and clutches instinctively at the dagger on his belt. He takes in a figure in the back corner of the cell. They’re sitting in a pile of scraps of cloth, using some like a makeshift blanket. Upon closer inspection Keith frowned at the person as they closed their book.

“Pidge?”

The person in the corner stilled and for a second Keith thought he was a ghost.

“How do you know that name?” he whispered shakily.

Getting closer, Keith squinted in to the low light of the cell. Sitting in the corner was a carbon copy of Pidge. He was a little older, a few deep lines in his brow from squinting at books. His hair was a little longer than Pidge’s but their brown eyes had the same intelligent spark in them. His face was dirty but there was an undeniable Holt face underneath.

“You—you said Pidge.” he said again. “How do you know that name?”

“Pidge is—“ Keith swallowed around the lump in his throat. He tried not to let excitement overwhelm him. In this situation, Keith needed to make sure that he remained calm. “Pidge is part of my crew.”

“She’s here?” Panic immediately made him sit up.

Keith held his hands up. “No no, ey—she—Pidge is still back at base.”

“Oh thank god.” He exhaled and his body deflated. “How did she get off Earth?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t—“ Keith shook his head. “We don’t talk about things like that.”

The man’s face fell again. This time Keith could see the age in his face. There was a deep set tiredness in him that resonated bone-deep. Then he plastered an easy smile on himself and looked to Keith.

“Apologies. It’s been—god it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her.” he scrubbed a hand across his face. “I’m Matthew Holt, her older brother. You can call me Matt.”

Keith stared at the hand that Matt extended to him. Instead of taking it, Keith sat down heavily on the ground against the back wall of the cell.

“Keith.” he said after wrapping his arms around his knees.

Seemingly unaffected, Matt withdrew his hand. He fingered at the worn pages of the book in his lap.

“Is she well?” he asked quietly after a moment.

“Well enough I guess.” Keith scratched some dirt from the toe of his boot. “Annoying. Smart. Healthy.”

“Good, good.” Matt nodded to himself, a gentle smile still hanging on his lips. Silence stretched between them for a long time. Keith counted the seconds by the beat of his heart. He listened for the sound of patrolling sentries. He needed to figure out if there was a pattern to the scouts before trying to break out.

He reached up to his shoulder and pulled the rolled piece of parchment from under the edge of his jacket. Distinctly Bartholomew’s handwriting, the message told Keith to be ready come the morning. He was to have Lance and the gold and be ready to escape come the rendezvous time. He ripped the message up and shoved it between cracks in the cell’s walls. What was already a difficult task, Keith realized with a glance towards Matt, had now become neigh impossible.

If they got out of there, he wasn’t going without Matt.

So Keith closed his eyes and quieted his breathing, listening intently to any and all sounds that came through the cell’s bars.

*

The table was nearly ten feet long. Lance sat stiffly at one end while Lotor occupied the seat across the table. He was sifting through some last minute reports, hand scrawling out an elegant signature on a few. He handed them off to a pageboy who bowed and scampered quickly away. Lotor looked up, giving Lance a genuine smile.

“I can’t tell you how I’d hoped we would meet again. When I heard what happened to Neso—“

Lance gave him a sharp look. “Spare me your charm, Lotor. I’ve seen it too many times with the other nobles in the court.”

“Of course.” Lotor’s expression fell. Lance took some pride in the way hurt flashed across the other’s eyes.

“Tell me the truth. About the attack against Neso.”

Lotor waved away the server who was refilling his wine goblet. He ran his finger along the rim thoughtfully.

“My father—“ he began with some difficulty. “He became mad, paranoid even, for power. With power. I’m still uncertain which came first. He brought his people together under this flagship of promise and fear. They thought the galaxy was theirs for the taking and so they began to take it.”

Lance curled his hands into fists under the table. As Lotor talked there was a look of true sorrow on his face. Some confusion tinted the blue in his eyes and he searched for the right words.

“He needed to set an example. Show what would happen to those who opposed the Empire. But he also thought he was destroying a possible enemy. Your people, the Nesians, they were strong users of magic. Even if you didn’t use it for offensive means, you easily could have.”

“We were a peaceful people. Zarkon knew that.” Lance said in a push of breath. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Zarkon did many things in the following years that I’m still to this day trying to make sense of. He feared the possibility of your people. And it was a blow that he knew he could deal to the Alteans as well. My father became a monster.”

“Am I to believe you had no part in this genocide? In any of the violence and death I’m sure your people have wrought in the last 10,000 years?”

Lotor leveled a cold and hard stare at him. “I am not my father, Lanceliah.”

“That’s not to say you are unlike him.”

This seemed to hit Lotor in an deeper place. His lips curled into a sneer and he visibly recoiled from the statement. Anger flared in his eyes and he slammed his fist onto the table.

“I never meant to hurt you! That was never my intention!”

Lance opened his mouth to respond, but then he was taken by a memory. Crystalline flowers around them and they laid lazily in the field. It was a languid moment—a time where neither had to worry about appearances or expectations. It was just them, the earth below, and the sky above. Glittering clouds sparkled in Okhotsk’s sky.

Lotor sat up on his elbows, turning to look at Lance next to him.

“Let’s run away from here. Jump to a different star system, galaxy—hell we could go to a different universe.”

Lance raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. When he turned his head towards Lotor he had to squint against the light of the two suns behind him.

“Have you gotten into the mead again?” he said with a chuckle.

“No, listen to me. We could leave these lives behind and be whoever we want! Go someplace no one knows us or our families. We could just be Lotor and Lanceliah.”

Lance sat up and laughed. He gently pushed at Lotor’s shoulder. “Okay, real funny.”

“I mean it.” He grabbed Lance’s hand before he could pull it away. He held it close to his chest. “I’ve got a ship waiting right now. I’ll take us anywhere.”

The words sat oddly in the air between them. Lance frowned, confused as to when the joke ended.

“Please Lanceliah.” Lotor implored. His grip was firm but there was a slight tremor to it. “Run away with me.”

Lance came back to himself with a shudder. He looked disbelieving across the table to Lotor. The scene before him now was so different from that day beneath Okhotsk’s suns. Now Lance could see the differences in Lotor’s demeanor. He was hardened. No longer that young, optimistic princeling that Lance had befriended. The 10,000 years that Lotor had lived while Lance had been suspended in time loomed between them like a shadow across the sun.

“You knew. You knew the whole time what Zarkon was going to do.”

Lotor swallowed hard and looked directly at Lance. His voice was feather soft when he next spoke. “I knew I couldn’t stop my father, but I thought that—if I could save just one person, if I could save you—“

“That what? That things would be okay? That if I was alive it wouldn’t matter that my entire race was destroyed?”

“I was afraid!” He hissed.

Lance sneered at him and stood, chair scraping harshly against the tiled floor. “Don’t talk to me about fear.”

His footsteps echoed off the high walls of the hall. Lotor was still in his seat, unmoving and unflinching. The door shut with a resounding thud and dissipated into thick silence. He stared at the cup on the table and his reflection stared back at him. It was a face he no longer recognized. With a frustrated shout, he swiped out and knocked the cup off the table. Wine splattered on the floor in brilliant crimson, goblet streaking through it and rolling under the table. Lotor leaned forward, putting his face in his hands. He pushed his hands up into his hair. He didn’t care when he pulled some strands out, or the uncomfortable scrape of his nails against his scalp. The world returned to silence and Lotor dropped back into a darkness he thought he had finally escaped.

*

Lance ripped the cloak from his shoulders. It dropped unceremoniously in a pile of fabric on the floor. The guest room was large, with a huge canopy bed against the wall. There was a finely crafted wardrobe next to it and a vanity nearby as well. Lance moved over to the desk and sat heavily in the chair before the mirror. He slowly undid the buttons on his tunic, peeling the top off. In only his breeches, he stared at himself.

The markings on his skin glowed faintly. Be it in frustration or sorrow, Lance wasn’t really sure. The face of a boy looked back at him. Someone torn from his people—from his family. With no real place to go in the universe. No purpose to fill. He felt lost, utterly and totally lost. Lance bit down on his lip and shook himself out. The circlet on his forehead flickered in a comforting way. Quickly he grabbed the small pack he had been allowed to bring. He changed out of the stifling, princely clothes and got back into the clothes that Pidge found on the Dauntless.

He glanced around the room for a moment, pointedly ignoring the glimmer of his reflection in the vanity. Then he slipped out of the room. He double checked to make sure there were no sentries in the hallway. Although heavy, Lance carefully closed it with no more than a click of the latch. He stuck to the walls and stayed in the shadows of the alcoves.

*

A small tinkling against metal woke Keith up. He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep. Sentries came through a few hours after he’d been put in the cell to give them meager dinners. Matt assured Keith none of it was poisoned. Lotor had no stomach for poison or such backhanded methods. At the sound, he got to his heels in a lowered fighting stance. Blinking through the dimly lit hallway, Keith made out a figure crouching at the bars.

“Lance?”

Lance’s roguish grin came light a like in the darkness. Keith couldn’t stop the grin that spread his own lips. Then a sense of dread came over him.

“What are you doing here? How did you find us?” he whispered.

Lance pretended to flip hair over his shoulder. “Was it supposed to be hard? This place is so laid out to Lotor’s preferences it’s ridiculous.”

A bit of stiffness came to Keith’s form. He felt the defensiveness seep into his blood. Pulling his hand from the hilt of his blade, he moved over to Matt’s huddled form on the other side of the cell.

“We’ve gotta get out of here.” he mumbled. He reached out and gently pushed Matt’s shoulder. The older male startled awake, instantly awake and moving a hand out to swipe at Keith’s eyes. Matt blinked and pulled his hand back as quickly as Keith dodged out of the way of it.

“Sorry, sorry.” Matt mumbled. He rubbed superficially at his eyes even though there were no lingering traces of sleepiness in him. “What’s going on?”

“We’re leaving.” Lance supplied from the other side of the bars. He glanced around for the keys in case they were nearby.

“Nothing short of a small explosion would get us past those bars.” Matt said.

“Bartholomew’s coming in the morning but I’m not sure we can wait that long.” Keith stood and moved towards the cell door. He checked the metal of the bars with the edge of his dagger. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or pissed that they’d let him keep it. Mostly he was annoyed Lotor didn’t see him as enough of a threat to take his weapons.

Keith couldn’t wait to prove him wrong and knock some of those pearly whites out of his face.

He ran his fingers over the metal. “We don’t have explosives, but what about making this super cold?”

“Well, of course. It’s a steel-hybrid from best I can tell.” Matt said, curiosity rolling into his voice. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a shitton of liquid nitrogen in those jeans of yours.”

Keith gave him a cocky grin then turned to Lance who was feeling along the walls for a hidden switch. “Lance? Think you can do it?”

“Huh?” He swiveled his attention back to the cellmates. “Do what?”

“Make the bars cold. If you make them cold enough, we might be able to break them.”

“Uh,” he touched his circlet nervously and it flared white. “How cold?”

“Really really cold.” Keith stood at the bars, resting his forehead between two of them. He looked imploringly at Lance. It was much like the gaze that small animals on Okhotsk would give when they wanted food or affection. Lance had always been a sucker for those. He ran his own fingers over the bars and frowned.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done that before or even had the chance to really practice.” He paused and gripped one of the bars. Keith’s touch was light over his hand. It was fleeting and gone as soon as it was there.

“You can do this.” he whispered reassuringly. Lance’s frown depend.

“Stand back.”

Keith did as he was told and moved away from the bars. Matt looked at Lance like he was solving a puzzle. Or breaking a code that had evaded him for some time. Lance brought his hands back and popped his knuckles slowly. He let out a long breath from his nose.

“Here goes nothing.” he mumbled. He closed his eyes and wrapped his hands around the bars in front of him.

For a second, nothing happened. Then slowly, like his veins were filing with ice, markings began to appear and glow beneath the fabric of Lance’s clothing. Mist formed in the air around his hands and wafted off his skin in delicate tendrils. The circlet on his forehead shone a dull blue and seemed to pulse with a heartbeat. Matt’s eyes widened as he watched frost form on the bars.

“That’s it,” Keith cooed. “Keep going Lance.”

Lance’s eyelids shifted, like he was dreaming, and his mouth pressed into a taut line. His grip on the bars tightened and the layer of frost thickened into translucent ice. It crept up and down to cover the entirety of the two bars. When they were covered, Lance moved his hands inward. He covered a total of six bars with thick, oddly glowing ice. Keith felt a shiver go down his spine and he pulled his jacket tighter around him. He could see his breath in the air.

When Lance opened his eyes again he looked dazed. His pupils had faded away and his eyes were sightless as he stared at Keith. Keith approached him slowly, holding his hand out.

“Lance?”

With a start, Lance inhaled sharply. He blinked hard and his eyes had gone back to their normal, dark blue. He was still for another second then grinned. Overlooking his work he flicked at the ice gathered on the bars.

“Think this’ll do the trick?” he asked.

Keith eyed him warily. “Only one way to find out.”

He motioned for Lance to move back. Lance pressed his back against the far wall of the hallway. He glanced left and right to see if there was any movement of an incoming sentry. He’d only seen a few on his way into the cells. Keith took a steadying breath and brought his arms up. He centered himself on the balls of his feet and focused. Then he dropped his weight and shifted into a roundhouse to the bars. The minute his foot connected with the bar there was serious resistance to the kick. He grunted with the pain that traveled up his ankle and winced.

“Shit! Not cold enough.”

“No, no, look!” Matt pointed at the first bar that Keith hit. There was a definite crack in the metal, visible beneath the ice.

“Okay, I’ll give it another go.” He glanced at Lance who watched intently. He nodded to Keith and held his hand out.

The circlet glowed again, another dull blue. In the palm of his hand, there was a light blue coming off the skin. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Lance’s face and he focused on the bars. Keith centered himself again and readied for another kick. This time, when the clang of his boot against the bars rang out, Lance crushed the light in his palm. Shards of ice and metal flew out from the bars as they shattered. The sound was louder than they expected. Keith ignored the sting as shrapnel cut across his cheek.

Matt bounded up next to Keith, squeezing between the bars. “Someone definitely heard that. We’ve gotta move!”

Keith followed swiftly out of the cell. He nodded to Lance who had a shit-eating grin on his face. They smiled triumphantly at each other.

“Your face—“ Lance started. Keith now felt a trickle of blood but shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it right now.” He gruffed, grabbing Lance’s hand and hurrying after Matt. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yes!” Matt called over his shoulder without stopping. “I’ve had a map of this place memorized for quite some time now.”

“A map? How did you—“

“Not the time for questions!” They skidded around a corner and were face-to-face with two sentry bots. They raised their blasters but Matt quickly careened around the line of fire. He came up behind them, quickly jumping up and disengaging their systems by snapping the heads off. It looked easy for him. Keith stared dumbly as the bodies crumpled mechanically to the floor. A wicked grin pulled at Matt’s lips.

“You don’t really think I spent all that time in there just reading books did you?” He asked with a smirk.

Keith realized that even though he was Pidge’s brother that didn’t necessarily mean their goals were aligned. He noted he needed to be cautious around Matt until they were off this ship. Maybe even when they were.

The trio moved swiftly down the hallways, disengaging any sentries they came across along the way. They eventually made it to a small docking bay. The entire room was lined with fighter crafts. The sleek design ominous in the low, red lights of the room. Matt moved to one of the computers and started to click away. Even though the keys and prompts were in Galran, it didn’t seem to slow him down at all.

“We’ll get a ship and head to the rebel forces.” Matt explained as he bypassed security commands on the screen. A few lights came up and the hum of engines starting could be heard.

“All three of us won’t fit in those ships! At most two could get in but it’s not gonna be comfortable.” Keith said. He swiped at the cut on his cheek, trying not to scratch at it too much. He wiped the blood off on his pants.

“Right, of course. Then you two take one and I’l lead in another.” He angrily pressed a few more keys and the sound of engines heightened as another craft began to warm up. Done with the computer, Matt turned to Keith and Lance.

“You can fly a craft, right?” he asked.

Keith glared. “Yeah. And I won’t lose you either.”

“Good.” Matt nodded. “Because we’ve got ten minutes before they can get their systems back online to come after us.”

“Got it.”

Matt ushered them over to the ships and jumped into his cockpit. Keith climbed in and held his hand out for Lance to grab. They squeezed themselves into the one-seated cockpit. It wasn’t by any means comfortable, but it would have to do. Keith stared at the controls in front of him. All the labels were in Galran. He felt fear grip him and make his chest tight.

“Hurry up! I’m opening the bay doors now!” Matt’s voice shouted over the communication channel.

Keith shook himself out and started to press things. It seemed like a basic enough ship. Surely things were mostly the same, right? Keith felt like the luckiest bastard in the galaxy when the console lit up with power. He pushed the thrusters forward and felt the hum of the rockets beneath him. Matt’s ship was already hovering at the ready. The bay doors were sliding open. Keith couldn’t think of how long it had been since Matt shut off the systems. How much more time did they have?

As he was thinking that, the main doors to the bay opened and swarms of sentries filled in. Their rays blasted at the ships, knocking uselessly against the reinforced material of the outside. Matt pushed his ship up and towards the exit. Keith followed close behind, his hands wrapped in a death-grip around the controls.

“Hang on.” He said to Lance. Lance nodded and clenched his jaw. There wasn’t much to grab on to in the one-man ship. But Lance managed to find some purchase on the edge of the pilot’s chair. Keith followed closely behind Matt. Right as they were about to shoot out into space, a tremor of fear shook Lance’s body. Instinctively he looked behind the craft.

Lotor stood at the rear of the group of firing sentries. Despite the distance, Lance could easily make out the expression on his face. It was anger, plotting, rage—

—betrayal.

Lance tightened his hold on the seat and looked forward again. He closed his eyes and willed the image of Lotor’s face out of his brain. It seemed to be seared onto the back of his eyelids. The craft lurched forward as it pushed against the zero-gravity of space. Keith stayed hot on Matt’s tail as Lotor’s ship disappeared from view.

*

“I’ve managed to cover our radar presence.” Matt said over the comms. A little window with his face was on the upper corner of Keith’s display screen. “We should be hidden from anyone that comes looking for us.”

“How much longer to this rebel base you talked about?” Keith asked, trying to decipher some of the charts coming up on his screen. He sat back, realizing it was of little use.

“At the rate we’re traveling now, I don’t see it being much more than a few hours.”

“And these rebels—who are they exactly?”

Matt’s image was quiet for a second. “They’re what they sound like. A force that looks to overthrow the tyranny of the Galra Empire. It’s a hodgepodge group of people, if that’s what you’re asking. Those who’ve lost their homes to the Galra, people looking to serve revenge or find closure.”

Keith thought of the Dauntless and Bartholomew’s crew.

“When we arrive, I want to send a message.”

“To who?” Matt’s face became suspicious and guarded.

“My crew. I want them to know we’re safe—me and Lance. And I want them to join us if they want.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed. “How many are in your crew?”

“Just two more. Pidge and another human male named Hunk.”

At Pidge’s name, Matt softened. He seemed conflicted. Chewing on the edge of his thumbnail—a habit Keith realized Pidge also had—he considered the information.

“We’ll have to clear your names first and get permission from the head.”

Keith nodded. “Understood.”

“But then we can—“

Matt’s visual cut off in a bright beam of light. It crossed over the two ships and blinded them momentarily. Keith brought his hand up to shield his eyes and squinted into the light. Had the Galra found them so quickly?

“Halt! You are in a No Fly Zone by orders of the Intergalactic Alliance!” came a voice over the radios. “Stop your crafts immediately or be further pursued.”

“Matt?” Keith yelled into his comms. He pressed a few buttons where the communication screen was now fuzzy, Matt’s face flickering through the fuzz. Matt’s lips moved but the sound was so clipped Keith couldn’t make anything out of it. He looked up and saw one of the ships that the Alliance used as cruiser crafts. They generally did patrols and prisoner transport. So they didn’t have much firepower, but were incredibly fast and piloted by some of the best across the galaxies. A flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye drew Keith’s attention. He watched open mouthed as Matt’s ship darted off. Keith cursed under his breath and pushed the ship in the opposite direction.

They barely made it two hundred clicks before the ship shuddered to a stop. The momentum caused Keith to slam forward into the control panel. Lance shouted out as he found himself crushed against the back of the pilot’s seat. Slowly the ship started to move backwards as the beam pulled it in. Keith hit the dash angrily.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” he shouted. “Just give me a fucking break will you?”

“What’s happening?” Lance asked, voice muffled as he held his nose. Keith looked over his shoulder and noticed the blood dripping between Lance’s fingers.

“We’re getting arrested.” he said grimly.

Chapter Text

The sickening thud of Keith being thrown against the floor filled the room. He waited a minute for his vision to stop swimming and the throbbing in his head to subside. Through a loud ringing in his ear, he heard muffled shouts. He blinked away the bursting sunlights at the corners of his eyes.

“—eith! Keith!” A grunt of pain. “Stop! This is a misunderstanding!”

Keith pushed to his feet and swayed a little.

“Stop resisting!” The officer who was attempting to restrain Lance shouted. He kept losing Lance’s wrist as the smaller male wriggled out of the grasp. The second officer—a middle-aged man who Keith was very familiar with—grinned down at Keith. He was missing a couple teeth, one of which Keith took pride in remembering was thanks to him.

“Didn’t know they let senior officers out of headquarters.” Keith said, spitting a wad of blood from his mouth. The officer growled and slammed his clenched fists down on the back of Keith’s head. He hit the floor again and groaned despite himself. His eyes fluttered shut into darkness as he saw a figure rushing into the room.

*

Keith’s entire body was heavy when he came to. He scrubbed at his face, wincing with the tenderness of his eye. Prodding experimentally at it he realized his left eye was swollen shut.

“Fucking—“ he grumbled.

“You’re awake?”

Normally Keith would grab at his dagger. His hand only swiped at empty air.

“I wasn’t sure how long you would be out.” said the voice again.

Keith frowned and looked around. He noticed a small crack in the wall to his right. There were soft scuffles as he pulled himself over to the crack. It was little more than five inches in length, but a little bit of the interior had been chipped out. There was just enough space for Keith to squint into the cell next door. He saw a few soft-looking brown hairs at the edge of the opening.

“Lance?”

The male jumped, surprised at how close Keith’s voice was. Lance glanced sideways, briefly spotting Keith’s face in the crack. He groaned in sympathy.

“Wow, that’s one heck of a bruise.”

Keith ducked his head and moved out of sight of the crack. He huffed and sat heavily against the wall.

“How long have we been here?” he gruffed.

“Hard to tell.” Lance said quietly. “Probably a few hours. Maybe five?”

“Shit.” Keith pushed his hand into his hair. “Did you see if they got Matt?”

“I don’t think so. We’re the only two on this side of the holding area.”

“How many prisoners?”

“Best I could tell—“ Lance counted on his fingers softly to himself. “Maybe twenty? We passed a few hallways of cells. Although I didn’t see any in the showers—“

“Showers?”

“Yeah they bathed us and changed our clothes. Something about contamination or communication magic?”

Panic was creeping into Keith’s voice. He felt his throat tightening. “Did they—“

“Yes.” Lance admitted softly. “They saw it.”

Keith’s hand went to his outer hip. He could practically see his slave mark under the seafood green prisoner’s suit.

“This day keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?” he grumbled with a dry laugh.

There was a beat of silence, neither really knowing what to say. Tons of thoughts were going through Keith’s head—would Bartholomew come find them, did Lotor feel strongly enough to find them, was he going to ever be free? He could only imagine what Lance was thinking. In the tense air, Lance started to hum. It was a low tune, wordless but emotive. Keith tipped his head back against the wall.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Lance paused for a brief second. “My mother would sing it when I was scared. I guess it became this kind of nervous habit for me to hum it.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yes.” Lance admitted softly after another beat.

Keith hummed in response. Then he let out a breath and closed his eyes. “It’s nice.”

With that, Lance resumed his humming. The sound calmed both of them in different ways. But soon Keith found himself drifting back to sleep.

*

Being the new kids on the block never had its perks in a prison situation. It hadn’t done Keith any favors when he first joined Bartholomew’s crew and it definitely wasn’t doing anything on the Alliance’s transport ship. Word spread pretty fast that two youngsters were part of the gang now. The bigger guys taunted Keith and Lance at meal times and during free time.

Keith tried to keep his head down and grit his teeth. Do your own time, he reminded himself. Don’t get involved in others and don’t go sticking your hand into things if you aren’t willing to lose it. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t responsible just for himself. Lance was charismatic and flirtatious, however always the gentleman to distance himself before things got too hairy. Although sometimes the other guys didn’t catch that drift.

There was more than one instance where other prisoners would get handsy with Lance. They touched him whenever they could. Made off-hand comments about what they would do with him—how much fun they could have together. It made Keith sick to his stomach. Not just that they were outrightly horrible, but that he found at times when they were alone he was thinking the same thing.

They spoke to each other through the crack in the walls. Lance told Keith stories of Neso and what it was like living on Okhotsk. Keith easily imagined the shining sands of the eastern shores. He practically smelled the sweet scent of the fields of flowers on the souther edge of town. He wondered what walking through the streets with Lance would have been like.

Lance told Keith of customs and traditions that the Neso people upheld. How turning 18 was a rite of passage when one could start learning to really use their magic. Of course, smaller tricks were taught as entertainment to children. But once a Nesian reached maturity at 20, they underwent a ceremony that invoked the gods who protected Okhotsk. If the gods should bless them and find the person worthy, their magic potential was completely unlocked.

“Did you get to do that?” Keith asked.

“Yes, well. I completed the ceremony. But I wasn’t able to find a mentor to teach me further.”

“Why not?”

When Lance didn’t respond, Keith turned his head towards the crack.

“Lance?” he prompted.

“The attack came on my birthday.”

The statement sat in the air between them. Keith felt it churn in his stomach. He knew the face that Lance was making. It was one that Keith had spotted a few times when they were still on The Dauntless. It was an expression Lance saved for when he thought no one was looking. There was a somberness to it that didn’t fit on a 20-year old’s face. He always lowered his eyes either to the ground or to his hands where he would be scratching absently at the faint markings on his skin.

Keith wanted to reach out and comfort Lance in some way. He wasn’t ever good with words, never having to communicate with the people of Bartholomew’s crew in deep or meaningful ways.

“We’ll find someone.” Keith said, surprising both of them. “The universe is too big for there not to be someone out there who can teach you.”

Lance laughed, light and airy. He chewed on his lip for a second. “Is it bad that I want to hold your hand right now?”

“No.” Keith responded. “It’s not.”

*

It was the fifth day that they were on the ship when Keith took his first punch for Lance. His eye had mostly healed, the swelling gone and leaving only a mottling of yellowish-green of a healing bruise. They had been walking from the free time area when a man that had been chatting with Lance grabbed his arm. Lance cried out in pain from the force of it.

“C’mon just a little—I swear it’ll be good—“ the man panted, lust clouding his eyes.

“Let go!” Lance yelled. Keith, who had been a few feet in front of him, turned at the sound. “Stop!”

Frustration built in Lance’s blood. He felt his enter him like a flash of lightning. As he looked up angrily at the man holding him, the markings on his skin flared. Keith hurried forward, pushing through the gathering crowd. They were always excited for a fight in the yard. The man was undeterred by the flash of light on Lance. He crowded in to his space and pulled him closer.

“He said let go!” Keith roared as he came up behind the man. He jumped, leaping onto his back and wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. He tried to get the right leverage to throw the man off balance. It worked a little in that he left go of Lance. Lance stumbled backwards and caught himself on a nearby table.

Keith held on tightly as the man whipped around. He scratched at Keith’s hands that were cutting off his air supply. Red welts rose on his skin from the man’s nails. Finally the man was able to disengage Keith’s grasp, throwing him onto his back. It knocked the wind out of Keith and before he was able to regain himself the man descended on him.

A square hit to his stomach, legs pinned beneath the larger man, two to his chest, and a few to his face. Keith’s lip split and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. His ears were ringing from the punches to his head. Guards swarmed on them before the man could do any more damage.

But Keith already broke his rule and now everyone knew that he and Lance were affiliated. When they came for Lance, they had to go through Keith first. The only good thing out of the situation was that Keith didn’t get rusty in his fighting practices. He learned different styles of fighting and started learning how to fight dirty. That it wasn’t dishonorable if it was the only thing between getting out with some scrapes versus a broken arm.

On the tenth day, people stopped approaching Lance and started whispering when Keith walked by.

*

The twelfth day was when Captain Shiro interrogated them. It was basic questions—where are you from, why were you in a Galra scouting ship, that mark on your hip—but Keith had never seen someone so genuinely nice. Shiro was the kind of guy who joined the Alliance because he felt the world could change. He believed people were inherently good and that if someone went off the deep end you could always bring them back.

Keith didn’t want to break it to him that the world didn’t exactly work that way.

“We already know that you’re an Escaped.” Shiro said.

Keith flinched at the term. It was derogatory and vile. Something no former slave wanted to hear themselves referred to as.

“If you just tell us the name of your Provider—“

“Why don’t you run the symbol through your database?” Keith sat back in his chair, arms crossed defensively.

Shiro’s mouth tugged down in a frown. It pulled at the scar over the bridge of his nose. “We didn’t come up with anything.”

“Huh, weird.” Keith said flippantly.

“Okay, okay. I can tell when I’ve hit a wall.” Shiro pushed his hair back, setting the white streak of hair into place among the jet-black strands. “Tell me about your friend then.”

“His name is Lance.” Keith bristled defensively. “I don’t know anything about him.”

“Well you two were together in the same ship so I find that hard to believe.”

“I told you. We were in the same cell and escaped together. Can’t blame a guy for wanting to get as far from a Galra warship as possible.”

“That I can’t.” Shiro nodded. “Look, Keith. I’m just trying to get you guys back where you belong. Isn’t there someone I can contact to confirm your details or anything?”

Keith gave Shiro a look. The captain was surprised to see an edge to Keith’s gaze. He’d expected the boy to be different after hearing about the slaver’s mark. But not like this. It was like he was an adult in a boy’s body. Shiro could see the youth and excitement hiding behind the gruff exterior. It was people like this that made Shiro want to work hard to get the universe right again.

“Let me give you your future back.” Shiro whispered, leaning towards Keith.

Keith stared unwaveringly at Shiro. “We don’t have something like that. Not anymore.”

*

On the fourteenth day, they were given back their civilians clothes. Keith and Lance were moved to a different section of the holding ship. Keith worked with the janitorial staff, mostly comprised of other low-risk individuals. Lance—thanks to his charm and wit—helped out in the data room. He assisted an older man with grey hair coming out of his nose with organizing files of personnel data and other such items. It was easy work, but it kept both of them busy for their time there.

Day in and day out they worked on a schedule. Wake, eat, work, eat, bathe, sleep. Each night they talked through the crack in the wall. Keith told Lance about the Dauntless and some of the crazy characters in the crew. He talked about some of the missions he, Pidge, and Hunk had gone on. He remembered some of the places he’d visited on jobs. It was nice. Talking to Lance was easy and maybe it was even easier because they couldn’t see each other. Every night they would fall asleep to Lance humming.

*

They were both on manual labor during the third week. They’d been tasked with moving storage boxes from one bay to another. It was grueling but rewarding. Keith and Lance found themselves spent and exhausted. Keith sat heavily down on one of the crates. Lance sat on the ground using the same crate as a backrest.

“Why do they even have all this stuff?” Lance groaned, wiping sweat from his brow.

“They probably use these ships as transport for the Alliance’s stuff. If you’ve got the space, might as well use it.” Keith pulled the strip of cloth he’d been using to catch sweat from rolling into his eyes off. He fanned himself with his hand and let out a sigh.

“What are they gonna do with us?” Lance asked. “It’s not like they can keep us here forever, right?”

Keith shook his head. “They’ve got no grounds to hold you.”

“And you?”

They shared a look briefly before Keith looked away. “Once a slave, always a slave. I’ll be prosecuted as an Escaped and sold to whoever wants me.”

“Seriously?” Lance sat up, twisting to look fully at Keith. “You’re joking.”

Keith shrugged and picked at dirt under his fingernails. “That’s how it is.”

“Keith, I’m not gonna let you be a slave again. I won’t let you go back to Bartholomew. And I’m sure as hell not going to let you sacrifice yourself for me.”

The tone of Lance’s voice made Keith look up. There was a cold fire licking in his blue eyes. Keith’s throat momentarily went dry.

“Lance, it’s not—“

His words were cut off by alarms going off. The whole room was swathed in red and white as the warning lights flashed. Sirens as shrill as morning bird screamed into the cruiser. Keith and Lance shot up to their feet, Keith instinctively shielding Lance. They ran out of the storage room, swarms of guards running down the halls.

“Quickly!” the men shouted. “Starboard arms!”

“It’s just one ship!”

“Our systems are down!”

“We have to take up defensive positions!”

Calls were coming over the speaker systems telling all personnel to return to their stations. Prisoners were being herded into their cells. In the chaos, since they were far enough away, Keith and Lance were overlooked. Keith grabbed onto Lance’s hand and pulled him opposite where the guards were going.

“What are you doing?” Lance shouted over the commotion.

“Trust me!” Keith lead them across the ship. They ended up in a docking bay that was mostly computerized crafts. Keith’s face split into a huge grin as he saw the craft occupying the end of the ramp.

“Polaris?” Lance said disbelievingly.

“You’re damn right it is!” Pidge popped out of the open door on the side of the ship. “Hurry up! We’ve got two minutes before guards get here!”

Lance and Keith ran towards the ship. The sound of pounding footsteps could already be heard in the hallway outside. As they reached the midway point, the doors opened and guards stormed in. Shiro was at the head of the group and stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene before him.

“Hold your fire!” He yelled.

Keith looked over his shoulder and cursed. “Pidge! Get the engines going!”

“On it!” Ey disappeared once more into the ship. A moment later, the red accents on the side of the ship lit up as the rockets warmed up. Keith started overturning crates in the docking bay.

“Stop! Keith! Lance!” Shiro shouted. Keith looked across the room at Shiro. Lance thundered up Polaris’s walkway. The ship rocked as it lifted off the ground, throwing Lance into the doorframe.

“Wait, no Pidge wait! Keith isn’t—“ Lance grabbed onto the cold metal. Keith tore his gaze from Shiro and booked it towards the ship. The bay doors opened and wind rushed past as the atmospheric stabilizer fought with the sudden change. Keith covered his eyes as they dried and his hair whipped all around him. The Polaris started to edge its way out of the bunker.

“No, no, no—“ Lance gasped.

Keith pushed his legs hard against the floor. The thuds were drowned out by his own heartbeat and the hum of the engines.

“Orders sir?” the front guard yelled, looking between Shiro and the escaping prisoners. Shiro stood agape and shook his head. “Orders sir!”

Shiro grit his teeth. “Fire!”

A spray of blaster fire swept around Keith. He blocked it out and ran straight towards Lance. The ship was just leaving the doors. Lance felt desperation overtake him.

“Keith!” Blue light up his skin and flashed from his eyes. Keith leapt from the edge of the docking bay, hitting hard off the metal. Lance stretched his hand out as far as he could manage without falling out of the Polaris. Keith squeezed his eyes shut.

Time slowed and Keith briefly wondered what it would be like to die in space. There was no oxygen. There was no gravity to keep his organs in place. No warmth. Would he suffocate or freeze first? Would he pass out as his organs failed? Or would he feel the entire process as he died?

Warmth wrapped around his wrist and yanked Keith forward. He was pulled roughly into the Polaris. Keith snapped his eyes open and was greeted by Lance right in front of him.

“Oh my god!” Hunk shouted. He ran over and scooped the two of them up. “I didn’t think I would see you ever again!”

They let out small squeaks of protests as Hunk squished them against his chest. When Hunk finally dropped them, Pidge came up. Ey stared at Keith and Lance for a second. Then ey came forward and also wrapped eir arms around the two.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” ey mumbled against them.

Lance smiled and patted Pidge’s hair. “Thanks for coming to get us.”

“Well—“ Pidge pulled back and fixed eir hair. “It was pretty boring without you around.”

“How did you find us?” Keith asked.

Hunk shrugged. “Surprisingly enough, you guys aren’t too hard to track.”

“Plus, it helps that the Boss gave us some basic directions. Oh—“ Pidge grabbed a small sack. “This is for you too.”

Keith took the sack slowly and opened it even more cautiously. Inside were a few things including a location data log, a small ration of food, and a couple little sacks of gold units. A little scrap of paper was on top of the cache.

We’re all squared up.

He smiled and stuck the note back inside. He looked around at Pidge, Hunk, and Lance. Then he looked out at the display window. His footsteps were muffled as he moved to the pilot’s chair. The feel of the leather of his seat against his fingertips was extremely comforting. Pidge took eir place at eir chair. Hunk got settled down in his seat at the back. Lance walked up behind Keith as he sat in the pilot’s chair.

“What now?” Pidge asked.

Keith wrapped his hands around the controls and exhaled slowly. “How about an adventure?”

“Where?” Hunk piped out from the back.

Lance grinned at Keith as he looked over his shoulder at him. Keith looked back out the display, the entire expanse of the universe laid out before him.

“Anywhere.”

Chapter Text

Keith sat on the edge of the wreckage they'd hidden the Polaris behind. Whatever planet they’d found was uninhabitable, seeing as most of the surface area was bubbling lava. Luckily—or perhaps unluckily—the broken remains of the ship had landed on one of the few outcroppings of cooled rock. It wasn’t a large ship, but at one point might have been a small supply ship. It was plenty large enough to slide the Polaris under some of the overhanging scraps of metal.

He looked out over the magma that was sending waves of heat into the air. He watched as the air shimmered with the immense temperature. Closing his eyes, he thought of what their next move had to be. It was a few weeks since their escape from the prison. Lance became a steady member of their group, easily welcomed back with tight hugs.

For awhile, they were all a little lost. Pidge and Hunk were honorably dismissed from Bartholomew’s service. The message to them was a little vague, but they were able to leave without anyone stopping them. The foreman in the docking bay even gave Pidge a couple extra goodies before the two took off in Polaris. With the help of the coordinates that were mysteriously in the system they were able to track Lotor’s ship. It was even easier to realize that Keith and Lance were no longer on the ship. Considering the ship itself had been destroyed, a gaping hole shot right in the middle of the craft.

“You’re gonna get a sunburn out here.”

Keith looked over his shoulder and his expression softened when Lance came around a jutting piece of metal. He rolled the cuffs of his green jacket up, swiping a bit of sweat that instantly came to his forehead.

“I think you need a sun for that.” Keith quipped.

Lance shrugged his shoulders and sat down next to Keith. He swung his legs idly and leaned back on his palms. His slightly tanned skin became dusted with soot as he shifted his hands in the dirt.

“It’s a lot different out here.”

“You told me Okhotsk wasn’t completely ice.”

Lance glanced at him before looking back out. The red glow of the lava warmed the tones of his skin. “No, but this place doesn’t have anything on the Crystal Dunes.”

“I bet not.” Keith said with a snort.

“So what now?”

Keith shook his head. “I’m not sure. But we should find a way to get back in touch with Matt. I think Pidge would love to see that he’s safe and alive. And he mentioned rebels—“

“Would you want to join them?”

“Join who?”

Lance cut a sharp look to Keith. “I saw how you twitched when Matt first said it. You want to fight, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” Keith looked down at his hands in his lap. He ran his thumb across the back of his hand. “The Galra have absolutely destroyed so much and killed so many.”

“You don’t have to remind me.” Lance said, trying to keep his tone light but there was still a tightness to it.

Keith’s voice was softer when he next spoke. “I want to make a difference.”

The sound of the magma moving slowly below their feet fill the air. Bubbles popped, hissing out gas as it sparked and ignited in the air.

“Okay.”

“Really?” Keith turned to look at him. Lance was looking out over the landscape.

“I’m sure you haven’t realized it—because honestly you’re a little slow on these things—but every member of your team would follow you wherever you go. Pidge of course would never let you go somewhere stupid. Hunk would never let you go alone. And I would never let you go period.”

Keith’s brows rose into his hairline. He felt Lance’s fingers lightly brushing over the tops of his hand. He watched as Lance lazily traced the lines on Keith’s hand.

“We’ve been through a lot. And so far in all these shitty situations I’ve been put in, you’re the reason I keep making it out. From what I can tell, you’re a good luck charm. No sane man would give that up, would they?”

“No, I guess not.” Despite himself, a smile split his face. Then a glint crossed his expression. “Speaking of which—“

He used his other hand to dig in his jacket pocket. A moment later, he pulled a small cloth-wrapped bundle from his pocket.

“I think this belongs to you.”

Lance frowned and took the bundle. He unwrapped it slowly and his face lit up. The orange and red flickering light from the magma didn’t dim the blue glow of the gem in his hand.

“My parent’s brooch—I thought—“

“I’m sorry. I’ve had it all this time.” Keith scratched the back of his head. “I felt like a dick for hanging on to it so long. But I didn’t want to give it to you right away and then there wasn’t really a good time to give it back. So—“

“Thank you.” Lance cut him off. He smiled openly at Keith, wrapping his fingers tightly around the jewel. Suddenly his body stiffened and flashes of images fell over his eyes.

*

A castle flashing in blazing sunlight

Glittering ruins of a society long forgotten

A fair face of an Altean woman reaching for someone

Black claws

A blazing sword

*

Everywhere green

Vines, water, trees

A crumbling temple

Green tail

A split second before something becomes invisible

*

Dust and rock

A hidden cave amidst tunnels

Sentries marching across sand

Yellow ears

A cannon exploding

*

Anger and speed and humility

A cramped, guarded cell

Growl cutting through darkness

Red, lithe body
A ray of energy melting whatever was before it

*

Calm

Water washing over and cleansing

An underground cavern littered with runes

A pair of glowing yellow eyes

A blue mouth opening in a ferocious roar

*

Lance gasped and came to. Keith was shaking him slightly and hitting his cheeks. He visibly relaxed as he saw Lance reacting.

“What the heck? You started shaking and mumbling to yourself. I thought it took longer for heat stroke but—“

“I—“ Lance choked for a second and gathered his voice. He swallowed hard. “I saw something.”

Keith frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The crystal—“ He looked down at the crystal in his hand, noticing that a blue glow was dimming from it. The markings on his arms pulsed faintly. “I think it showed me something.”

“Okay. But what did you see?”

Lance looked back up at Keith and set his jaw tightly.

“I think I saw Voltron.”