This is War, Thirty Seconds to Mars

*deep breath* God. How do I even begin to explain how I've felt the last few months?

I'm sorry (take a shot) for the unintentional hiatus. After my April Fluff challenge, I really did intend to start updating regularly. And then...protests. And mental health. I'm no longer speaking to my immediate family because of how racist they've been recently. My betta isn't doing great, and he's one of the reasons I get up in the morning. Quarantine is killing me.

I want to acknowledge: this is, among other things, a story about corruption in the police force. This country (apologies to non-American followers who don't live here) is built on a corrupt system, so I thought it best to update this fic first out of the two I left hanging. I do not condone the actions of the cops in this country. I stand with Black Lives Matter. If you take issue with either of these statements, my fics are not for you. Educate yourself and then come back when you're ready to respect people's lives.

Thank you everyone for being patient with me. I can't promise anything. I just got this bug tonight (it's currently 1 am) to update. This chapter has been written for a while tbh, I just lost the mental energy to post. I don't know if I'm back totally or not, my inspiration has been...lacking. I don't know. But here's this, at least. Just another part to the story, if you want it.

June 10th, 2016. Galra Headquarters. 12:02 am.

"You're late."

"Sorry, sir," Keith managed, breathless. He was clinging to his duffle bag so hard that he could feel the strap digging into the palm of his hand. "Traffic around the party side of the Nalquad territory."

Zarkon looked over at the guards. "Send a patrol down there, shut them up." The guard left and Keith swallowed down his flinch. Zarkon turned back to him, eyed his duffle bag. "I better have everything on Voltron."

Keith pressed his lips together. His fingers trembled just the slightest as he knelt to unzip the bag. "I can do you one better."

He pulled out Alfor's book, heavy in his hands not just from the weight, but from the knowledge of what he was about to give up. There was exactly one page ripped out, clean enough that Keith was certain Zarkon would never notice. He dropped the book onto the desk with a satisfying thump. "This is the information on every ally Voltron and Alfor ever had. They've gained more since this was last updated, of course, but it will tell you some of your deepest plants."

He'd warned his mother, of course. Called her on the way to the base and let her know what he was doing. She and Antok had already hit the road, abandoned the Galra permanently.

Zarkon picked the book up slowly, flipping it open to the first page. His eyes perused the lines, mouth growing thinner the longer he read. "I see," he muttered. "This is valuable information, Kogane. Incredible that you managed to obtain it."

Keith tilted his head. "The Princess trusts me, sir. There's no reason for her not to give it to me."

"What else is in your bag?"

Keith knelt, dug through, pulled out the comms he'd stolen from Coran. One of the throwing stars from Lance. An arrow from Hunk. "Some of their tech, sir. I couldn't take more, because they'd be suspicious, but it's top notch. Some of the best in the world. Our scientists and engineers could study them, replicate them."

Zarkon took the throwing star from him, ran it delicately over his thumb enough for a dollop of blood to appear. "Well done. Anything else?"

"I-"

"Because I specifically asked for personal information, Kogane."

Keith frowned. "Sir, that's what the book is."

"The book," Zarkon said, slowly, methodically, as he pushed to a standing position. "Gives me names of employees to kill, of rebels to search for in the streets. It tells me nothing about your team. About the Princess, or her father's advisor."

Zarkon looked down at his desk. Took a breath. His fingers flicked, fast, and the throwing star sank into Keith's shoulder. He gasped and flung a hand up to grab at it, desperate. "Bring me his mother," Zarkon growled to the nearest guard.

Keith whipped around to look at the guard pleadingly, but he was already gone. Zarkon stalked around the desk. "I asked you for a very simple thing, Kogane. Not even things I really needed. I know where your teammates live, I know they're hiding Captain Shirogane, I know where your team works and eats and goes to school. All I needed was the location of the hideout. And you couldn't give it to me."

"Sir, Krolia is gone."

Zarkon turned very slowly to the guard, his face a mask of rage. "Excuse me?"

To his credit, the guard didn't falter. "Krolia. She's gone. So are her things. She's left the base."

"I see." Zarkon looked back at Keith. "You wouldn't have something to do with this, would you now?"

Keith's lips twisted. For a second, he thought about lying some more. Instead, he laughed. "You're a piece of shit, you know that? It's funny, how long I tricked you. All of you. My mother, this pathetic excuse for a gang, your sorry ass. Hell, Sendak figured it out before you did!" Keith snorted. "What a fucking moron, but at least he wasn't an idiot."

The hand burned on his jaw, cracked his neck. His skin stung. Zarkon's boot lifted into his gut and Keith crumbled to the floor, gasping for breath. The sound of a knife drawing, and Zarkon leaned down next to him, held it to his throat.

"That little boyfriend of yours," he said, drawing the knife across to Keith's ear. "I had Sendak cut him up."

Keith's fingers shook.

"How about a matching set?"

The knife was so sharp it didn't hurt, but Keith felt the blood, felt the drag of the blade across his right cheek, carving into his skin. After the initial draw, it stung. It burned him, and he bit back a scream so hard he tasted blood on his tongue. Zarkon drew the knife away after a lifetime, speckled with blood, and stood. Kicked Keith again and turned to the guard.

"Take him to the dungeons. He will stay there until I'm finished with the first part of the plan, and then I will string him up in front of the city and slit his throat."

Zarkon looked back at him. There was blood on his suit. "Your precious little team won't come for you, not now that they know you've betrayed them. But don't worry, Kogane. They'll get to see you die. I'm going to make sure of it."

June 10th, 2016. Ryner's Bed and Breakfast. 12:14 am.

Krolia paced in front of Antok and Kolivan, her hands wringing in front of her. Ryner watched sleepily from behind her desk, the few other Blade members they could contact at this time scattered amongst the lobby. "We need to rescue him. We must go to Voltron."

"We cannot," Kolivan said, sounding irritated. "They must come to us first. It is too risky for us to contact them."

"My son called me on his way back to base and said to get out," Krolia snapped at the man. "His cover is blown, Kolivan, and you know it. Zarkon is going to kill him."

"He won't," Ryner promised the woman. "We know Zarkon. He is vengeful, and he kills on whim, but he also tortures. He'll want to make Keith pay for everything he's done, he won't kill him immediately. Not until he gets what he's after."

Krolia turned to her, scowling. "I'm aware, but – duck. Duck!"

Ryner dropped to the ground and the wall behind where she'd been standing exploded with bullets. Krolia dropped to her hands and knees next to Kolivan. Several members were on the ground with them. Two were dead already. "How did they find us?" Kolivan demanded.

Krolia's lips twisted. "Keith must have given him the book."

"The book?"

"Information on rebels. Ryner's name was in there."

Kolivan looked like he was about to scream, which certainly would have been entertaining for Krolia, who had never seen him raised his voice. "He gave him-?"

"It was the only way he'd back off of him," Krolia spat. "Most of the operatives are dead, and the ones who aren't are competent. We're going to Voltron, now."

"I told you, they come to-"

"Then call them!" Ryner snapped, crawling around next to them. She flinched as a bullet splintered the desk over her head. She clutched a rifle in one hand. "I'll hold them off."

Krolia hesitated. "Ryner-"

The woman reached out, cupped Krolia's cheek. Her eyes softened. "Please go. I will protect my home, as you must protect your son and his family. I will catch up with you if I can."

She wouldn't, and Krolia knew this. She reached up and squeezed Ryner's hand tightly. "Good luck."

Ryner nodded. Waited a few seconds while Krolia and Kolivan crawled around to the back emergency exit, positioned behind a false snack case. It was there purely for Blade purposes, and Krolia hovered her hand over the latch, waiting for Ryner to move.

As one, she and the four other still living Blades stood, sheltering behind couches and counters, and started returning fire as fast as the Galra were dealing it out. Krolia flipped the latch and let Kolivan in ahead of her. She turned to secure the deadbolt behind her, locked eyes with Ryner as the woman ran out of ammunition and glanced back.

Her smile was triumphant even as she hit the floor.

Krolia slammed the door shut, secured the bolts, and followed Kolivan underground.

Castellan Place. June 10th, 2016. 12:16 am.

"He left?" Lance asked.

He was staring at the door in disbelief, like maybe if he stared long enough, Keith would walk back through it. Pidge nodded, clasping her hands in her lap and refusing to look up. Matt sat next to her, silent.

Allura, who hadn't spoken since Pidge had explained what had gone down, turned and slammed a fist into the wall, cursing when it did little to the wall but split her knuckles. Coran went for the first kit while she shook it out, tears pooling in her eyes. "I trusted him," she hissed. "With my life, with my secrets, with my home! I considered him family."

"We all do, Allura," Lance said gently.

"Do?" she scoffed, holding her hand out obediently as Coran returned and started working on her bleeding skin. "You cannot tell me after learning of this betrayal that you still do."

Lance swallowed, looked down at the floor. "I knew," he admitted.

Allura's face melted into something cold. "You knew."

"Yes."

Shiro cleared his throat and stood. "I did as well."

Pidge nodded, wringing her hands. "Me too. I knew about all this from the very beginning."

"Me as well," Coran said, and Allura ripped her hand away from him, picked up wrapping the bandage where he'd left off.

Everyone looked to Hunk. He hadn't reacted yet, was leaning against the wall across the room in dead silence. He looked up when they stopped speaking, his arms crossed over his chest. His lips parted, and he glanced away. "I suspected," he admitted, his voice gruff. His eyebrows furrowed into a thick line. "Especially after…Lance, do you remember the day I brought Keith home from work crying?" At Lance's nod, he continued. "Something…happened. The fire alarm went off, but I was the only one forced to leave the building aside from customers. When Keith came out…he was crying really badly. Wearing different jeans. Wouldn't tell me what happened. I've suspected ever since."

"And…and none of you spoke up?" Allura whimpered. Her hand was wrapped now, but she looked like she wanted to punch each of them in the face. "How could you do this? To me? The Galra killed my father!"

"And Keith killed mine," Pidge snapped, her voice shaking. Matt flinched, reached out and took her hand. Allura stepped back like she'd been physically pushed. "And I don't forgive him, Allura. But I can understand. Because he was a kid, like me, and he grew up in a shitty place with shitty role models and he still…"

She trailed off, trembling, and Shiro took over for her. "He still stepped away from them willingly and worked to help us, genuinely help us. How many times has he saved each of your lives?"

"Holy shit," Lance mumbled. At everyone's looks, he spread his hands. "The last base?"

Allura's mouth twisted in a scowl. "It blew up. From the Galra. After Keith presumably told them where we'd be."

"True," Lance agreed, pointing at her. "But that night…Keith just happened to "remember" about a hidden Galra information warehouse. He just happened to have a bad feeling, and let me work with him to get the important stuff out of everyone's rooms. If he hadn't happened to do those things, we'd all be dead. Alfor's book would be gone. Your pet mice would be dust."

"So he should have told us then!" Allura shot back. "There was NOTHING stopping him from telling us!"

"There was," Matt said softly. "You'd have stopped trusting him. He'd have gone back to Zarkon for the last time. Zarkon would find out about his betrayal, and he'd kill him."

Silence for a moment, and then Hunk stood up straight. "Isn't that exactly what's happening right now?"

Matt nodded. "Odds are, Keith went back tonight knowing that Zarkon was going to figure him out. From what I know about Keith, he's not unprepared. He's got some kind of plan. But he didn't go back there tonight expecting to walk out alive."

Lance pressed a hand to his mouth and turned away from the group. Coran's hand found his shoulder, gentle, and Allura sucked in a breath. "Are you saying…what, exactly?"

Matt shrugged. "I'm saying, we need to be ready. Whatever Zarkon is planning is going to happen soon, and it's going to happen fast. Keith just has to send us a sign. And for the record, I also hate him. But I trust him, Allura. He's saved my sister countless times. He told my father he'd protect her. I believe him."

Pidge's fingers shook. "He told Dad-?"

Matt's eyes softened and he wrapped his arm around his sister. "Yeah. Um…I was there," he mumbled. His hair fell in front of his eyes, hiding his gaze. "He told Dad you'd be safe. Dad knew. Dad trusted him. So I do too. I trust him to do the right thing, even if I don't like admitting it."

Allura licked her lips. Her cheeks were red. "Regardless, how are we supposed to know when he is in need of our help?"

On the coffee table, Coran's cellphone started buzzing.

Sanchez Household. June 10th, 2016. 12:26 am.

Stakeouts were boring as hell. Especially when the stakeout wasn't even a stakeout, it was just sitting alone in a car watching a house on the off chance that something bad might happen. It was cold, bad, gas station coffee, the same three radio stations on loop all overplaying the same seven songs, and the knowledge that you could be at home in bed finally catching up on the latest season of The Flash.

So sue Nadia for dozing a little, she was exhausted and aside from the people constantly going to and from work, the most interesting thing that happened on this street was the old man who got the mail from his box wearing nothing but a bathrobe that hung a little too loose.

When her phone rang, she jumped, nearly spilling her lukewarm coffee all over the steering wheel. She fumbled for the device, reading the caller ID. It was an unknown number, but the area code was residential, so she picked up. "Rizavi."

"Nadia?"

"Lance," Nadia said, sitting up in her seat. "What's up?"

"My family, are they okay?"

She frowned, glancing out the window at the home in question. The lights were all off, save for a faint glow from what was probably one of the adult rooms. "Yeah, everything's quiet over here. Why?"

"Long story. Can't explain it on the phone. Just…be on alert? Please? Shiro is calling Adam - Officer West. He's going to be ready, so if you need him, call him."

"Lance, what the hell is going on? Are the Galra after you again?"

He was quiet for a moment, and in that time a set of headlights appeared in Nadia's rearview. "Let's just say I'm not their favorite person."

Nadia didn't answer, watching the van intently as it drove past her. It was dark, nothing crazy suspicious. It parked directly in front of the Sanchez home. "You said Shiro is calling Officer West?"

"Yeah? He's on the phone right-"

"Tell him to get over here. Now."

She hung up before Lance could ask questions, because if he asked questions, she was going to be too late. She shoved her phone in her pocket and slid out of the car, making sure her gun was strapped to her hip. Nadia didn't make her presence known right then – she watched, for a minute.

The several men that climbed out of the van were much bigger than her. There were at least five. All of them had guns.

Nadia glanced across the street, down the road. There was a car coming, a normal one, just passing through the neighborhood. The men were forced to stop and hide their weapons, and Nadia used the car as a distraction, ducking behind it as it drove past and sprinting into Bathrobe Man's yard, hiding behind the hydrangea bushes lining his lawn.

When the car had finally vanished around the corner, the men resumed getting out of the van, opening the back. It was an empty space, which meant that they were probably going to kidnap the family, not kill them. That was enough to ease Nadia just a bit, and she took a precious few seconds to duck between the yards of each house.

It caused her to lose sight of the assailants, but it also led her right to the Sanchez's backdoor. Lance had given her a key the night after meeting her, and she used it now to ease her way into the kitchen and shut and lock the door behind her.

A cat, sitting on the kitchen island, lifted it's head off it's paws and studied her. She crept past the animal, jumping a little as it leapt off the counter and twined between her ankles. She followed it up the stairs, pausing just briefly to look out the window of the door. The men were still at the truck, waiting for another car to pass.

The cat's collar bell jingled as it trotted to the lit room, the door cracked just enough to spill light into the hallway. Nadia fumbled for her badge, holding it in her hand as she followed the cat in. She lifted a finger to her lips and lifted the badge and the key at once.

The girl in the room looked remarkably similar to Lance, maybe a year or two younger. She had just knelt to pick up the cat, and remained frozen on the ground when she spotted Nadia. Her eyes locked on the badge, then the key. She stood.

"What the hell?" she hissed.

"How many people are in the house?" Nadia whispered.

The girl frowned for a moment, fingers twitching. "Just me and my parents," she informed her. "Lance is at his apartment, Marco is spending the night at his girlfriend's house. I'm sorry, who the fuck are you?"

"Nadia Rizavi," Nadia said, lowering the badge and clipping it back to her belt. A slight bang from downstairs, and she set her hand on her gun. "You must be Veronica."

Veronica was wide eyed, looking at the door. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

"The Galra are after you and your parents. To get to Lance. We need to get out, now."

Veronica choked. "To get to…? Wait, how did you know they would be here?"

Nadia shifted impatiently. "I don't have the time, Veronica. We need to leave, right now. There's a safe place I can take you, but if the Galra catch us here, they're going to torture and kill you and your parents."

Veronica swallowed. She swooped down and picked up the cat, shouldering her way past Nadia and into the hallway. The cat remained remarkably silent, tail flicking pleasantly as Veronica went to her parents room and knocked on the door.

Another bang downstairs, this one louder, and Nadia drew her gun, turning her back to Veronica and watching the stairs.

"Roni?" she could hear a sleepy woman's voice say. "What's going on?"

"We need to leave, Mama," Veronica whispered. "Now. Right now. We're in danger."

Shuffling, some soft cursing, and Nadia glanced back as an older man and woman appeared in the doorway. They startled at the sight of her, but relaxed when they saw her badge glinting in the light filtering out of Veronica's room. "Is there a faster way out of here then down the stairs?" she asked.

Another bang, this one metal, and the sound of crashing came from downstairs. The door shattering on it's hinges, most likely. The cat hissed and it's tail flicked faster, and Mr. Sanchez nodded. "Yes. The kids all had fire escape ladders in their room in case of emergency, we kept them."

He led them into the room adjacent to theirs, Nadia backing up behind them as soft curses came from downstairs. To his credit, Mr. Sanchez moved fast, pulling the rolled up ladder from the closet and setting it in the window while his wife secured the tension rod. "Anyone in the yard?" Nadia asked. She shut the door and locked it behind them.

Veronica peered down at the side yard and shook her head. "No."

"Doesn't mean they aren't there," Nadia muttered. "Down the ladder, and then press to the side of the house until I say so. Go."

Mrs. Sanchez went first, her face stoic even as her hands shook. Her husband followed her over the edge at Veronica's hushed insistence, taking the cat with him on his shoulders. There was a shout in the hallway as Veronica was climbing over the edge, and then the door shuddered on it's hinges. She froze, eyes wide, and Nadia shoved her nightstick into the girl's hand. "Go!" she hissed.

Veronica moved faster, and Nadia climbed over as soon as she was far enough down to not kick her. The support bar groaned under both of their combined weight. Nadia was forced to holster her gun for the climb down, and her head had just disappeared from the window when the door to the room slammed open.

A shout, and she moved faster, adrenaline pumping. A man's head appeared over her and he practically snarled. The gun lifted, Nadia glanced back to see that Veronica was off the ladder, and she dropped off the rungs.

Several shots went off as Nadia hit the ground and rolled into the shadows at the edge of the house. Her arm stung badly, and she could only assume she'd been shot, but she forced down the nausea and pushed to her feet, unsheathing the gun again and passing her taser off to Mr. Sanchez. "Let's move, now," she snapped. "Neighbor's yards, before they get down here. My car is three houses down and across the street."

They ran, Mrs. Sanchez now clutching onto that damned cat (though Nadia couldn't blame them, she'd take her animals too), crashing through bushes and flower beds and emerging on the street in time to see one of the Galra pitch something small and dark at Nadia's car.

It hit the windshield and shattered the glass, setting off the car alarm. Moments later, it erupted in flames. Nadia backpedaled, nearly slipping on the dew dappled grass, eyes wide. Veronica froze next to her, shaking. "Now what?" she whispered.

Furiously, Nadia shoved them to keep running for the end of the street. Neighbors started emerging from their homes, which she had to hope would discourage the Galra from following. Still, she didn't push her luck. She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit the speed dial for Officer West.

She held the phone to her ear with one hand, gun tight in the other. "Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up," she muttered as they ran.

"Rizavi?"

"Where are you?"

"Two blocks out, on Cherry. Why?"

"Firebombed my car. Carson Avenue."

"Copy."

She hung up and looked at Veronica. "He's meeting us-"

"On Carson, got it. You're explaining this to me, right?"

"I'm gonna try."

The cop car swung up to the side and Nadia opened the back door, glancing behind her. She couldn't see anything or anyone following them, but that didn't mean that she was going to stop moving. "Get in."

Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez climbed in immediately, Veronica following them. Nadia slammed the door shut and crawled into the front seat. The moment the door closed, Adam sped off. He was silent for a moment, and then he spoke. "Curtis, what are my options?"

Curtis' voice crackled from the walkie on the dashboard. "A couple right now, sir. The best one is to take them to one of the schools in the area. They're out of class, so they're completely abandoned at the moment. Closest is Altea High, four miles North."

"Copy. Get the others, meet us there. I don't like this. Shiro said things were going down tonight, and I don't trust the force." Adam's grip on the wheel tightened. "Be careful."

"Yes sir. Rendezvous at the school, twenty minutes tops. I'll contact Kinkade and Leifsdotter."

The radio crackled out and Adam glanced at her, doing a double take. "You're bleeding."

Nadia swallowed and nodded. "I know," she grunted, finally unclenching her fingers from her gun to lift to her arm. She flinched. "Yup. Definitely still in there."

Mrs. Sanchez leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm a doctor. When we get to the school, I can take a look at it. But could one of you please tell me what is going on, and why those people blew up your car…and…our home?"

Veronica's eyes were piercing in the rearview. "You said they wanted us to hurt Lance. Do they have him again?"

"No," Nadia promise. "I was just on the phone with him, he's the one who asked me to watch your house after he was kidnapped. As of right now, Lance is fine."

Adam snorted in distaste. "Yeah, until he and the rest of Voltron decide to get involved in this shit."

Nadia blinked. Based on Veronica's surprised look, she had heard right. "I'm sorry, Voltron? Like…child vigilante tale, Voltron? That's a thing?"

Adam's scowl said all she needed to know. "Yes. Lance helped to reform it, with some others. My ex among them."

This was the first Nadia was hearing of an ex, but she said nothing, merely pressed a hand to her gunshot wound and focused on the road. "If…Voltron is real, and based on the stories that have been told…what are the Galra planning?"

Adam's grip tightened on the wheel. "I wish I knew."