A crashing boom reverberated through Central Command, the whole base shaking with the explosions. Matthew Holt was thrown into a tense wakefulness as the floor of his cell pitched hard to the right. He rolled to his feet quickly, careful not to trip himself over the shackle on his left ankle, and braced himself on the wall. He looked out of the large section of glass that allowed him a view of space.

"Well that's not something you wake up to every day," he muttered to himself, watching as Zarkon and some large cat resembling ship engaged in battle. The lights flickered as he surveyed what he could see of the damage the ship had done, wondering how good of an opportunity this would really be. He quickly braided his hair back so that it would be out of his eyes and out of his way, tying it at the end with an old scrap of cloth he tore off something back at the labor camp. The feeling of the braid going down nearly to his waist only reminded him of how long it'd been since the Kerberos mission was compromised. The lights flickered again and then died. He smiled. His prosthetic leg glowed to life, and he hoped his theory was true. He pulled against the restraint, the heat from his weapon of choice warping the metal and causing it to break.

"Holy shit alright." He wasn't expecting that to work. Not in the least. Whatever lines keeping prosthetic weapon countering magic flowing through that thing were apparently offline with all the damage to the ship. Who knew. "Well fuck now I need a real plan." He didn't know how long it would take for them to get the power back on, he needed to act fast. He kicked through the door, carving a hole out of the no longer reinforced metal big enough for him to roll through. So far so good, but now what? Where was he going to go? The docks would have ships, and ships were the only way to leave since he couldn't just walk into space, but did he know how to get to the docks from where he was? No. Did he know how to fly? No. Was he going to die trying anyway? Yes and no. He didn't care if he died trying, however, he also knew he was too valuable to Haggar and her druids for any soldiers to risk doing him any real harm. Worse came to worse he'd get caught and sedated and wake up to find the Priestess herself pacing around his cell deciding his punishment. Nothing new. He was a troublemaker at heart, too much like his mother for his own good according to his dad. That's what he had said back at the labor camp at least, but Matt was the one who could fit in tight spaces and avoid security best of all of them. If anyone was going to steal them supplies for a revolt, it would've had to have been him. He knew the general direction down the hallway he needed to go to get closer to the dock since he could see ships coming and going from his window, and sped that direction. He didn't care if he came across any soldiers, animatronic or otherwise. He knew how to deal with them.

Eventually, he was spotted by a group of four that was running to respond to the damage done by the battle. They were either late or the first of a wave of many that Matt was going to have to deal with. He had tried to hide around a corner when he heard them, hoping that they wouldn't see him in the dark passageway with how quickly they were going, but he wasn't so fortunate. The first went down with a kick through the chest. Another kick sent the corpse flying into the second. The third was shot, courtesy of the first one's gun, after which Matt leaped onto the fourth one's shoulders with a calf wedged under the soldier's chin. He threw himself backward into a handspring, taking the galra down with him and into the floor. Armor can't guard from a broken neck.

Matt moved forward. No one he came across before he found vent access was prepared enough for him. He dropped down from the air ducts into the deserted hangar. They must have really called everyone for disaster relief. He was glad he was slim enough to fit in ducts and avoid the larger crowds. He sped over to one of the smaller ships, something that looked agile and quick, maybe meant more for scouting if his guess was worth anything.

And then the hangar door hissed open. Matt spun around to face the man he recognized as one of the higher ranking officials who worked under Zarkon. He aimed the stolen weapon. The Galra official looked more surprised than like he was going to apprehend him.

"You're Haggar's new Champion, aren't you?" The door hissed closed.

"And you work under Prorok," Matt stated, holding the gun steady. Who knew holidays with the Callaghan side of the family would be preparing him for things like this? His grandparents would be proud of his marksmanship if horrified that he had to use it. But hey, it's not like they'll ever find out.

"Technically. At the moment I've just betrayed the empire so if you would please stop threatening to shoot me and allow my escape, I can take you with me."

"And why should I trust you?" Matt asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Can you fly a ship?"

There was a long pause of silence.

"No."

"Then I'm your only real way out of here kid, now lower that and let's get moving before anyone finds us, with Voltron and the Castle of Lions gone there aren't any more distractions." Matt cautiously lowered his weapon and Thace went passed and found a single pilot ship. "This should do fine, let's go." Matt looked at it. It was made for cargo. He got on and Thace was already starting to fire it up. He watched what buttons and switches on the control panel Thace used. He couldn't make out the symbols on anything from where he was standing (being human in a mining community of aliens that can see in the dark just fine screwed up his vision again, however, his old glasses wouldn't have lasted either way,) but he wasn't too keen on getting within reaching distance until they were well away from central command, so he stayed where he was.

The lack of resistance to their getting away was surprising, but Thace had essentially gunned it as soon as the engine was warm enough so anyone going after them was left in the dust before they had a chance to take off.

"Are you alright?" Thace asked, looking behind him at Matt, who just raised his eyebrows. "Silly question," the Galra sighed. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm fine." His side had been clipped by a laser, and he was definitely going to have some nasty bruises soon, but nothing he couldn't deal with on his own. They were silent for a couple minutes while Thace put in what he could only assume were coordinates into the ship. Then he turned again, looking at Matt with a frown.

"You're bleeding."

"No I'm not."

"I can smell it."

"It's fine."

"Being injured does not connote fine."

"Well I am."

Thace sighed, pressed a button on the control panel, and stood up. Matt took a step back, which did not escape the Galra's attention.

"You need medical attention."

"I'll live without it."

"While that may be true I would rather not have someone reeking of blood luring every dangerous carnivore living in the place I plan to hide straight to us," he growled. Matt took another small step away from him and he regretted his choice of tone immediately. "Come on. The first aid should be this way." He walked down the hall to the other half of the ship. Matt followed at more of a distance than necessary. Thace got to a small kitchen like area where the rations were kept and opened a cabinet, taking a box down from a shelf. He glanced at Matt and patted the counter next to him before opening the box. When Matt didn't move he looked back at the boy again. "Sit." Matt hopped up and was reminded of when his mom would cut his hair this way when he was little. "Unzip so I can see the cut," Thace said, unwrapping what looked like gauze pads and reaching for an orange tub of something that wasn't marked in any way Matt could see. He unzipped the jumpsuit and pulled it down barely far enough for the wound to be visible. Then he crossed his arms over his chest, watching Thace carefully. The Galra opened the tub. What was in it smelled like basil and looked like something that would seep out of an infected cut. Matt wrinkled his nose. "This will disinfect it and help bond the skin back together quickly," Thace told him, and amused smile on his lips at the human's reaction. He cleaned around the cut with one cloth and then put on the cream. He covered it with the second cloth and taped around it so that it would stay on. "We're done here." Matt quickly shoved his arms back in the sleeves and pulled the zipper back up. "You should get some rest, bunks should be through there," Thace pointed at a doorway across from them. Matt hopped down without a word, and the Galra went back to the pilot's seat.

The room Thace had pointed him to had deep bunk beds built into the walls, six in total, but it looked like it was intended to fit twelve. He didn't question it. He wasn't naive enough to think he'd be able to sleep, but he sat in a bottom one regardless. Nestled in the corner with his knees hugged to his chest, he almost couldn't believe he had gotten out.