Chapter 10:

Hurrying Along

"We have good news and bad news," Shiro announces.

Huddled in Gunfwe Praexhli's small command center, Keith exchanges a glance with the rest of his teammates, Altean and human alike.

It looks like Shiro's calmed down significantly. Pidge, on the other hand, is leaning against the console furthest from them, her arms crossed over her chest and her entire posture rigid. Her expression is a kind of careful neutral that Keith knows to be wary of.

Pidge is easily the most dangerous of all of them when she puts her mind to it.

"You found a lifetime supply of pasteles and a way to call home?" Lance offers, hopefully.

Shiro stares at him, blinks, and sighs. "No."

"Then… you found the droids we're looking for?" Lance suggests. "The TARDIS is real? Come on, what is it?"

Keith lets out an exaggerated groan and Hunk tries to suppress a giggle. It comes out more like snort, instead. Coran and Allura, however, are sharing a bewildered look that seems to say that this must be another Weird Earthling Thing.

Shiro shakes his head, trying desperately not to laugh, and finally swivels one of the screens around with his right hand. It follows his hand through the air and stops when he gestures.

"What the hell is this – a list?" Lance demands hotly.

"Yep," Shiro says. He smiles triumphantly. "We found Zarkon's Most Wanted list. And we're not at the top."

Allura steps forward, narrowing her eyes at the text, and gives him a pointed look. "However, we're not that far down on it, Paladin."

"No," Shiro admits, in a tone that says he agrees for the most part. "But that's not the interesting bit. What is interesting is this. Check it out."

He pokes the entry on the top of the list with his right finger and it opens up into a whole new file – a heavily redacted file, if the huge streaks of solid glowing lines where there should be text were any indication.

"Woah," Hunk says, stepping forward.

"Pidge, run your translator," Shiro calls out, with a glance in her direction.

Pidge huffs, uncurling, and reaches over to press something on her laptop.

The text on the screen glitches and jumps momentarily and then it switches over, redisplaying itself in iffy-but-readable English. It is not a great translation – Pidge is still tweaking the program – but it's good enough for them to get a general gist of the contents.

And it's unsettling, to put it mildly.

But not nearly as upsetting as Lance's reaction.

Lance curses - full-on curses, loudly. And in Spanish, to boot, which is surprising because normally most of what he says in Spanish their translators are able to fully handle, to Lance's utter and complete aggravation. So for it to not translate, it has to be some kind of idiom.

Everyone, even Pidge, stares at him in shock.

"Dude, you ok?" Hunk asks, alarmed.

"No, no, coño, I am not okay," Lance shouts, turning to face him. He throws out an arm, pointing at the translated text. "Don't you see? This is some straight up por la izquierda bull!"

He jabs his finger. "These are standing orders to imprison every individual they find of Altean descent and send them some place like this. They send them here to die, Hunk. I know what the hell I'm talking about, I got family that this kinda thing happened to – we've got to -"

And then Lance is drawing back, eyes wide and chest heaving. He looks at all of them, then at Allura, and his hands are shaking. "We can't let them stay here. We have to get them out of here."

Shiro reaches for him, putting a hand on his shoulder, and gives him a look. "It's okay. We will."

"But," Lance murmurs doubtfully, looking up at him. His eyes flicker to Shiro's right arm.

"They're victims, too," Shiro explains, shaking his head. It sounds as forced as it probably is. Shiro has calmed down, evidently, but is still having trouble accepting what he's seen.

Lance's face falls as he sags a little and he pulls back, the fight seemingly drained from him.

They all know it's not. Lance may look like he's stepped down for now, but if anything he's just gathering himself for round two. When it hits, it won't be pretty, that much is guaranteed.

Blue Lion is the spirit of water and water can be more dangerous than it looks.

So can Lance.

Shiro steps back awkwardly and, looking anywhere but at Lance, clears his throat. "Anyway, this is what caught my eye. Their most wanted is half-Altean. There's no name given – he's just referred to as a rogue asset – but there's this."

With a gesture from his right hand, the glowing text selects and zooms in on a nested grouping of numbers. There are about twelve of them in total, but three appear to have been redacted.

"We're not quite sure what it means," Shiro admits, sheepishly. "We thought you or Coran might be able to help, Allura."

Allura glances at him and then turns her attention to the numbers. She frowns. "They're Imperial fleet codes – serial numbers for ships in the Galra fleet. I… recognize the format. Coran?"

Coran's mustache twitches and his ears perk up as he steps forward and examines the numbers. He hums and tuts, stroking his mustache. "Hmm, that's odd."

"What is it?" Allura asks, perking up.

"This code – it's for the Ninth Fleet," Coran states, matter-of-factly. "But it can't be. The Ninth Fleet was deactivated and the ships were reassigned."

"Could they have reactivated it?" Shiro asks, frowning.

"It's possible," Coran admits, but the way he says indicates that he doesn't think it is at all. His mustache twitches again. "But not for these ships. I recognize the class code. This particular kind of ship was made on Pollux and had been retired well before the War."

"So their asset likes antiques," Keith comments dryly, rolling his eyes.

Lance snorts.

Coran gasps in horror, staring at them like they've just insulted his mother and kicked his dog in one fell swoop. "Antiques! Young man, I'll have you know that the Pollux shipyards produced some of the finest shuttles and light cruisers in the universe! Why, all the most famous people and dignitaries had them! Zarkon bought twelve of them just for his son alone."

Allura's expression seems to automatically blank, as if this is some old speech she's heard a thousand times before.

"Like these twelve?" Hunk asks, jerking a thumb at the screen.

Allura's eyes pop wide open as Coran sputters, flails and rights himself.

Shiro's head whips towards the display.

Pidge is instantly alert.

"So, they're looking for him, too, huh?" Lance says and, for once, he's not joking around. He clenches his hands into fists, but keeps them at his sides.

"Possibly," Coran manages, finally. "However, Polluxian light cruisers were incredibly popular with the higher ranked officers. I'm afraid Zarkon started a bit of a trend. He was always very up on the latest fashions."

The idea of Zarkon starting a trend was absolutely mind-boggling enough, but that last bit was too much.

Keith groans. "Can I un-hear that?"

"Nope, you have to suffer with us," Pidge grumbles, letting her head drop to her chest. "Ugh."

"Okay, in the interests of pretending we never heard that and getting the hell out of here, I got a question," Lance pipes up. "What are we doing about this place and getting these people out of here? I need to know."

"What about the bad news?" Hunk asks him. "I distinctly remember someone mentioning there was bad news."

"There is," Shiro admits.

"The place is rigged to blow," Pidge adds. "And they can remotely kill the life support."

Everyone stares at them.

"Coño carajo!" Lance shouts.

The translator hiccups and Keith hears quiznaki yulschtrix. "Not again," he mutters, tapping the side of his helmet.

"OH MY GOD, WHY ARE WE STILL HERE?"

"Lance, calm down!"

"HOW CAN YOU BE CALM?! WHAT IS IT WITH YOU PEOPLE AND BOMBS?!"

Pidge sighs and looks at Shiro. "I'll get the shuttle."

Allura shakes her head, raising a hand. "No, get the elders. They need to know."

"Yeah, get them. We need to un-ass this place," Lance agrees, turning to Pidge. "Let's go, Short-Round!"

Pidge glares at him, a glare that promises pain and suffering. "Did you just call me Short-Round?"

"Bombs, Pidge, bombs," Lance counters, seriously.

Shiro sighs loudly and covers his face with a hand.

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" Hunk asks no one in particular.

"Yeah," Keith nods.

Notes:

Every time the Paladins try to speak another Earth language they know, it comes out all the same to them (and Coran and Allura), unless it's an idiom that doesn't translate.
This, naturally, drives Lance up the wall.

Zarkon was on top of all the hot trends of the day, back in the Good Old Times, like ruffled collars and corseted waistlines.

Also, oh ho, Lance's reaction to those orders has been building with everything going on and this whole situation is now uncomfortably personal for him.