When Everything's Made to be Broken

When I saw the beacon I immediately felt sick. The entire device glowed with the purple signature of Galra technology. I'd heard of some pirates and other groups using Galra tech they had stolen, but it was much more likely whoever had put it on the planetoid was some kind of scout for the Empire. I started wondering why the Galra would seek out this little ice-ball in the middle of nowhere. Maybe we'd get the answer from Lotor when we got back. What mattered was getting the beacon off-line so the Galra couldn't use it, then working with Allura to get it to power our stuff.

I pulled of the external panels and threw them aside, trying to figure out what the different parts were. Pidge or Hunk could've figured it out in a few ticks, but it took me half a varga to trace all the cables and controls. To be honest, I still wasn't sure, but my best guess was all I had to go on. I pulled six big cables that ran from what I thought was the power cell to a central computer thing, and the unit powered down.

I took a deep breath. No sparks, no fires, no explosions. None of the stuff that normally meant something got messed up. But just turning it off was one thing; actually getting the power cell out was going to take a lot longer. Whoever put the beacon together built it like a tank, probably so it couldn't be damaged by nasty weather. But when it comes to breaking things, the weather has nothing on me.

I was still removing connections when a proximity sensor in my suit went off. I looked up and saw a dot moving just below the clouds, seeming to wander back and forth like it was searching for something. My heart dropped when I realized what it had to be: the Galra were back. Without the beacon to guide it, the ship was in some kind of search pattern to find wherever it wanted to land. With half our pod spread across the ridge it wouldn't be long until they spotted evidence they had company.

I activated my bayard and brought my rifle up, using the scope to zoom in on the closing ship. It was a standard Galra fighter. I'd taken down a lot of those, but with my rifle it would be tricky. Even though the ship was moving, it seemed to be sticking to a steady pattern. I lined up on where I thought one of the engine intakes would be, held my breath, and fired.

The shot went straight into the engine and it immediately started spewing smoke. I fired twice more, but the damaged ship wasn't sticking to a pattern anymore and both blasts hit armored areas. After another few ticks the ship leveled out, something not easy to pull off with that kind of damage. Whoever was flying it was pretty good.

Which wasn't good news for me. The ship turned toward me and opened fire. I dove behind the beacon, not that it would have done much good. Fortunately the fighter wasn't stable enough to really aim, and all of the shots went wide. Still, I wasn't about to wait around until this guy got lucky.

I crawled out from behind the beacon and lined up my rifle on the other intake. The fighter was way closer now, so even with it jerking around a bit I felt pretty confident in the shot.

I pulled the trigger and moments later fire erupted out of the ship. Without power, the fighter started to fall. The pilot kept it level as it hit the surface, skidding across the snow and finally coming to a stop closer to me than I would have liked. I waited with my rifle still leveled at the ship.

After a full dobash I thought I saw some movement, but it was fast, like a flickering shadow. I couldn't even get my gunsight on it before it disappeared. I was already having a bad day, Galra reinforcements were not on the list of things that would make it better. I couldn't let whoever was on that ship call for help, so I started towards the wreck.

I stopped twenty meters from the ship and dropped to one knee, trying to figure out where whatever I had seen had gone. I pulled up my armor's thermal sensors but they showed nothing. Whoever this was, they knew how to hide.

I wasn't sure if they were trying to avoid me or setting a trap, but my money was on trap. The whole victory or death thing meant they don't really like running. It didn't really matter; I just had to go for it. There was no one to cover me, no one to watch my back.

I circled around the ship, rifle in hand, but I didn't even see any footprints. Either Galra-dude was back inside his ship, or he wanted me to think he was. There was only one way to find out.

I stepped up the ship, slipping slightly on the curved, snow covered hull. Before I could regain my balance they were on me, grabbing my legs from behind and pulling me off the ship. I was slammed into the ground face down. I kicked at my attacker as I fell, but the contact was weak and didn't seem to slow them down.

Whoever I was fighting put their weight on my back. I twisted to my right. My attacker shifted and kept me from flipping over, but I could feel their grip loosening. I braced myself for their next move, but it never came. As quickly as the fight began, it ended. I could hear boots in the snow as they stood up next to me.

I flipped onto my back and found myself staring into the mask of a member of the Blade of Marmora. Their blade was lowered slightly but still ready for action. A tick later it dissolved to reveal the last person I expected.

"Keith?"

"Lance?"

"Keith?" I repeated, still stunned. I let go of my bayard and it reverted to its normal form as it fell into the snow.

I noticed Keith waited several more ticks before he sheathed his blade.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"We had problems coming back from Vostoth," I explained, leaving out some unimportant details for later. "The Pod was damaged, and we made a crash landing here. What are you doing here?" I pushed myself up into a seated position and smiled. "Did you miss me?"

"Unfortunately." It only took a tick for me to realize what he meant. Keiths kind of a dick sometimes. Frequently.

But I was used to it. "Not everyone can be a sharpshooter."

"Yeah," Keith said, looking towards his smoking ship. He made a mock thumbs-up. "Great job."

I brushed some snow off my faceplate and turned my head so I could clearly see the broken Galra fighter. I then turned back to lock eyes with Keith. "I know what you're trying to say, but that is not my fault."

AN: Needless to say, the two good buddies have some things to discuss in the next chapter! Thank you for the support, and please let me know if you enjoyed!