Written for Day 28 of Sheith Month: Protect & Attack.
I had to come back and do at least a little more with Sirikan in his own world with his parents after the last story!
Keith tapped his claws lightly on the table, tilting his head to get a better look before his Empress collapsed the hard light model she had been referring to as she spoke.
"Just the five of us, then." Keith said, with a dry flicker of amusement - how many times had he spoken similar words, confirming orders? Never quite likes this, however. "On this trip . . . exploring. I believe there were some concerns raised about the idea?" he said dryly.
"This isn't a mission, though, Commander." Allura said with a slight smile, eyes sharp, though Keith himself had brought no such concerns, much less echoed the councillor he had heard unwisely attempted to tell Allura she could not do as she pleased. He had been faintly surprised if only because he had thought any of them that idiotic had already been . . . thinned out. "We are not infiltrating or . . . taking over, after all. Only visiting."
". . .indeed." Keith said, arching an eyebrow. Even though it might be true, that didn't mean anyone else would believe it, were they recognised. And at least three of them were beyond easily recognisable. He arched his back lazily as he straightened from his position leaning over the table, then bowed and took his leave of his Empress.
He returned to the cockpit to find it much as he had left it when Allura summoned him to follow after her - Coran happily settled in the pilot's seat, his mate on his feet and shifting uneasily near the centre of the small room. Keith glanced out the front window just in time to see an approaching asteroid that Coran was not going to avoid in time.
He flinched, ears flattening, as the small ship juddered with the impact of the rock somewhere against its top. He shook his head, shaking off irritation. The ship could hold up to such things without trouble, and Coran's flying was not dangerous, even if it were a little uncomfortable. Keith simply . . . prickled somewhat at not being the one flying, instinctively drawn to correct missteps and clumsy manoeuvres. Slightly less so if one of his teammates was flying, particularly his mate, but Coran was not within that small number.
Keith continued to his mate's side, brushing the back of his wrist along Shiro's forearm.
Shiro took a deep breath, shifting anxiously, and dropped his gaze to meet Keith's. He smiled faintly, though he still looked distracted and his fingers were curled in almost against his palms, his broad shoulders tense. Keith raised an eyebrow and made a soft sound in his throat, half reassurance and half question.
"I worry." Shiro admitted softly. He sighed, shoulders dropping forwards, and his eyes flicked away and back.
"It'll be all right." Keith said quietly, voice steady.
Shiro hissed softly, looking away from the cockpit, towards the back of the small ship. "I just think. . . Perhaps we should check on him." he said, voice low. "He's back there alone and we're travelling and he might be . . . uneasy."
"Darling, when has our son ever been uncomfortable flying?" Keith said, smoothing his fingers over Shiro's shoulder. They both spread their feet automatically as the small pod corkscrewed closer to the outermost atmosphere of the planet they were visiting, shaking the entire vessel.
Shiro bared his teeth briefly, glancing at the back of Coran's head. "Your flying is much smoother." he pointed out grouchily. Keith tilted his head, conceding the point. Most of Sirikan's experience flying was with Keith flying and Shiro holding him or watching over him.
"He was sleeping when we last checked on him. He'll be all right." Keith reminded, reaching up and stroking his mate's jaw. "We'll hear if he needs us." he added, tipping his head towards the open doors. Shiro made a low grumbling sound in his throat and didn't quite nod, but didn't argue any further.
Keith shifted, bracing his side against Shiro's - for comfort more than stability - and watching Coran overcorrect to avoid a bit of debris with a wince.
"Wish you were flying?" Shiro asked in a low murmur flavoured with amusement. Keith flicked an ear and sighed. His twitchy nature when anyone else was in the pilot's seat was well known among the Elite. Shiro laughed at him, palm sliding over his lower back, and Keith glanced up at his mate with a crooked smile.
Then there was a harsher bit of disruption - enough to nearly throw them from their feet - and Keith growled, looking at Coran again only to- Coran hadn't hit anything, and those were the impact alarms cutting in a split-second later. As they blared, Allura appeared from the side room, looking slightly ruffled.
"What is going on?" Allura demanded, pushing a lock of her fluffy hair back with the rest.
"We're- We're being boarded, my lady!" Coran yelped, looking up with wide eyes. "They came out of nowhere!"
"Cloaking." Shiro murmured, glancing at one of the readouts.
"They're not using the docking bay, they're coming through the hull." Keith snapped, listening closely. There was barely time for a breath, then the first boarder charged through the cockpit doors, rifle at the ready. Keith stepped forwards to grab the end of it, shoving the barrel up to break the soldier's nose, then down to wrench out of his grip.
Shiro slipped past him, grabbing the soldier by the face with his cybernetic hand, which began to glow as he held tight and the soldier jerked and started screaming. Keith moved on quickly, dealing with the next two to shove inside, Allura nearby facing another with a polearm as Coran shouted in distress but dutifully remained in the pilot's seat. Shiro squeezed, there was a bloody crunch, and the boarder he held fell at his feet, now silent.
He was swarmed immediately by three more and Shiro snarled as he threw one off and ducked under the blow of another, taking a blunt strike to the upper arm. Keith felt armour crunch under his knuckles as he landed a punch in the centre of one of his opponents' chests, and ducked a return blow from the other that would have taken him in the face. He hissed, half-laughing as one of the soldiers recoiled with a yelp.
"Sirikan!" Shiro shouted as one of his opponents went down. Keith's eyes widened and he looked down the corridor the boarders were pouring in from. There was nothing to lead them in the opposite direction, to the room where Sirikan had been napping - not unless he woke, hearing the noise, cried. . .
And he was alone. Keith's chest tightened with a painful spike.
"Go, Commanders." Allura ordered, an almost lazy swipe of her hand flicking out her energy whip and slicing deep into the side of one of the soldiers near her. "Coran, we are going nowhere while their ship is locked with ours, you may abandon your post to assist us."
Keith roared, and the soldier before him recoiled, bringing up his weapon in a guard position with shaking hands. Keith ignored him and bolted, passing his mate and bounding through the knot of boarders in the corridor just off the cockpit. He didn't pause or break stride any more than he had to, dealing out what strikes he could to clear his path and using enemy combatants as springboards when the opportunity presented.
He could hear Shiro following behind him, not so fast as Keith - he never was, quite - but also plowing through the thick ranks of the enemy soldiers more easily, with his heavier, broader frame. A part of Keith realised that they were abandoning their Empress to face this with only her oldest advisor at her side - and Coran might be beyond question in devoted loyalty, but he was not on par with her Elite - but Keith would not have returned to her now even were he assured it would mean his death after this battle to leave her.
Allura was a strong fighter in her own right, easily able to match - or best - all of her Elite one on one; she and Coran were facing the boarders - themselves seemingly none too impressive - in a contained space, the Empress would be fine.
Their son was alone and helpless.
And the doors to the room where they had left him were closed. They had been left open.
Keith yowled in fury, heart clenching, barely stopping his headlong rush in time to reach for the keypad rather than crash straight into the doors. Shiro reached his side before he had managed more than that, not breaking stride as he raised his right hand.
Keith slid out of the way and lunged through the sparking wreckage of the doors on Shiro's heels, bracing himself against his mate's arm to add more speed as he launched himself into the air. He twisted in mid-leap and knocked the boarder over Sirikan away with a kick as he caught himself with one hand on the bars of the nest. He balanced for a moment there, between the grip of one hand and the ball of one foot braced against the opposite side, then shoved with his foot and dropped lightly to the floor next to it instead.
Sirikan was howling, but a glance assured Keith that he was unhurt, only scared. He growled quietly to his son, bending to brush the backs of his fingers gently over Sirikan's cheek. The howls quieted a little as he pushed his face into Keith's fingers, wide eyes wet and frightened. Keith's eyes narrowed and he gave a low, reassuring yowl in return before twisting and dropping to a crouch, driving one set of claws into the throat of the soldier who had been standing over his son before he could get up again.
As he rose Shiro knocked away the soldier who had approached on the other side of the nest, but his weapon took out part of the corner as he went down. The barrier fell and Sirikan yipped with distressed surprise, recoiling closer to the bars between himself and Keith. Shiro rumbled comfortingly, took hold of the loosened barrier, and ripped it completely off, tossing it out of the way. He reached in and patted Sirikan's head, then straightened and took up a blocking position where he stood.
His mate safely positioned to protect their son directly, Keith went on the attack. He didn't draw his blade immediately, too far inside the range that could reach his mate and child, but the boarders were not enough of a threat to make it difficult to fight them barehanded and he had three more bleeding on the floor before he was clear to draw his blade. With the fury coursing through him right now Keith would have quite happily faced up to considerably worse than these numbers without a weapon. He snarled as a fourth went down and reached for the sword at the small of his back, and one of the boarders near the door actually turned tail.
Keith's eyes narrowed and his muscles twitched, but he only narrowed his focus to the surge of the battle around him, his mate fighting nearby, and the soft sounds of upset or anger their son made. Any boarders who fled could run to die at Allura's hands or return to their ship, Keith didn't care.
Finally Keith dropped an opponent, wrenching his blade free and uncurling his fingers from where they had been buried in the boarder's shoulder, and found there were no more facing him. He lifted his head and breathed, ears alert for the slightest sound from anywhere ahead of him, but there was nothing near.
He flicked his blade, the luxite shedding blood easily with the momentum, and sheathed it at his back once more before turning to his mate and cub. His hands and face were both tacky with drying blood, and Shiro was slightly cleaner but not much. There were a few splashes on Sirikan's blanket and one across his face, as well.
Keith moved to them quickly, going to his knees on the edge of the platform as Sirikan mewled for him. He hesitated.
"He's going to need a bath anyway." Shiro said softly, left hand sliding over Keith's shoulder and squeezing the nape of his neck.
Keith nodded, opening his arms and scooping Sirikan up as he scrambled clumsily into them. Sirikan wailed, less fright now than delayed distress, Keith thought - letting them know how upset he had been - and Keith purred comfortingly, rubbing his cheek against Sirikan's crown. He twisted, settling with his back to one of the remaining sets of sturdy bars, and cradled Sirikan in his lap as Shiro all but collapsed at his side.
"There, precious." Shiro said softly, curling himself around Keith and Sirikan and extending a hand to stroke Sirikan's cheek, then down his shoulder and side. "Safe." he crooned, voice slightly wobbly.
Keith shifted, hooking an ankle beneath Shiro's calves and tugging, sliding Sirikan into his arms. Shiro looked at him, startled, then curled tight around their son, shaking slightly. His own delayed reaction, Keith thought. Keith moved to wrap an arm around his mate's shoulders, tugging him in close and purring against his temple, dropping his left hand in to rest on Sirikan's belly as he squirmed and settled, clinging to Shiro's clothes and Keith's fingers.
They needed to get clean - Sirikan, at least, before he ingested any of the enemy soldiers' blood - and get safely clear of the ship that had crashed into them. They needed to report to their Empress and make sure she was all right - Keith was certain she was, and more than likely Coran as well - and see what she wanted to do next.
Keith would stir himself soon to do just that, but for just another few moments. . .
He curled around his small family, half on the floor and spattered with enemy blood, and purred, his world safe and whole.
Sirikan's nest is something like a cross between a playpen and a bassinet (or perhaps crib), only with sides made up of metal bars instead of fabric mesh. Partly because it is a handy material and partly because between their strength and tiny claws, fabric would be unwise if expected to actually contain a Galra cub.