Hey look, it's chapter four! This about wraps up the time period between Across the Universe and Shiro's Escape, the latter of which will be the subject of the next chapter! Soon, the paladins shall learn about the existence of the Blade of Marmora- won't that be fun! As always, thanks for reading!
maroon
chapter four
advice
"Ah, Number Four! Come by to check on Shiro?"
Looking up, Keith turned his head towards Coran. The Altean man hovered by the door for a second longer, before he made his way into the med bay. "Yeah, just checking up on him."
"Well, I'm glad." Coran told him. "There's something I need to ask you, actually."
Frowning, Keith turned around fully. "If it's about Zarkon's witch, I'm not sure how much I can tell you."
"No, no, it's not that." Coran told him. "I believe our pods should be able to heal Number One fully, so no worries there. Should be out by tomorrow, perhaps even sooner, if all goes well!"
That was good to hear. With the red lion still offline, and Shiro still in a pod, he couldn't help but feel more out of place on the castle-ship than he usually did. At least he'd been able to get some sleep- longer and deeper than he usually slept, which he attributed to having so much taken out of him in the last battle.
"If it's not about Zarkon's witch, then what is it?" Keith asked.
"You see, when we found Shiro, he was wearing something rather interesting." Coran remarked, opening a drawer, fishing around in it. "Ah, here we are. I've never seen anything like it myself. Thought maybe you'd recognize it."
Blinking, Keith made his way to Coran's side. Wearing something? What did he mean by-?
Coming to a halt, he quickly snatched the pad from Coran, without so much as waiting for an invitation. Turning it over in his hands, he ran his fingers over the sticky side, narrowing his eyes. "Where did you say you got this?"
"As I said, Shiro was wearing it." Coran told him, giving him a curious expression. "So you do recognize it then, I take it?"
Of course he recognized it. This was Marmora tech. But where would Shiro have...?
"You're sure that Shiro was wearing this?" Keith asked.
"Yes, quite certain." Coran told him. "Peeled it off him myself, before sticking him in a pod. I was under the impression that it had some sort of healing property to it."
"You'd be right about that." Keith told him, handing it back. "It's a healing pad. Field agents carry a few of them, they're meant to keep wounds from worsening until proper medical treatment can be given."
It could also be used to speed up healing- he'd used one when he had been recovering from getting the device that kept him human implanted into the base of his spine. They weren't perfect, not like healing pods, leaving scars behind, but they had saved the lives of countless agents in the past- himself included.
But how did Shiro...?
"Where did you say you found Shiro?" Keith asked.
"Out towards the borderlands of Galra territory." Coran told him, bringing up a map with a swipe of his finger, bringing up what he could only assume were the exact coordinates. "According to the information that you gave me, I believe he was located somewhere within Warlord Ranveig's territory."
Frowning, Keith narrowed his eyes. They did have spies in Ranveig's camp- several, in fact- so Shiro had to have gotten the pad from one of them.
Which meant he had trusted a Galra.
The idea wasn't so strange- he'd done it once before, with Ulaz. That he had done it again... no, he tried not to think too much on that.
"So this technology," Coran began, "-it belongs to your rebel group?"
Glancing up at the question, Keith narrowed his eyes. He hadn't said that much, but it wasn't exactly hard to guess. Giving him a curt nod of his head, he reached into a pouch, producing one that he had brought with him from Earth.
"They're standard issue." Keith told him. "Though most of mine were left back on Earth."
"I take it ending up all the way on Arus wasn't part of your plans, then." Coran observed.
Letting out a faint snort, Keith tucked the healing pad back away. "Not in the least."
The man let out a thoughtful hum, leaving him to wonder if he planned to press him with more questions. If Shiro really had come into contact with someone from the Blade of Marmora, it was possible that they might get into contact with Ulaz sooner than he had thought.
After all, fighting that gladiator again had stirred his memories of his time in the arena- who was to say this encounter wouldn't do the same?
It was an idea that filled him with equal parts anticipation and dread- for though he had just seen him, seeing Ulaz again would be fantastic. He had taught him everything there was to know in regards to hand to hand combat, taught him to turn what he perceived as a weakness into a strength.
But at the same time, the closer they drew to the Blade of Marmora, the less chance he had of keeping his true identity- and his allegiance- a secret.
If they were to create some kind of alliance, he knew that the truth would have to come out, one way or another. Allura would want to know what one of their agents had been doing on her ship- and while it was possible to come up with a cover story that kept his own intact, he knew that in such a situation, Kolivan would rather opt for the truth.
Stringing your allies along with lies was a risky business, especially when they already had every reason not to trust you. Once it was revealed that he was the unknown, that he was part of the Blade of Marmora, the fact that he was Galra would naturally follow suit.
Coran must have known that he was the unknown, at least. He'd never stated as much directly- but it wasn't hard for him to put two and two together.
"Did," Keith frowned, wondering if he should really be asking this, "-did Shiro say anything?"
"No, that he did not." Coran told him, shaking his head. "Only that it was a long story. Getting him into the healing pod as quickly as possible took priority, so Allura and I decided that the full story could wait until he recovered. Why?"
Shifting his weight, Keith contemplated his answer. Even if he didn't say anything, Shiro likely would- so heaving a short sigh, he folded his arms in front of himself. Best to get it out there on his own terms. "Because he had to have gotten it from a Galra."
Coran, to his credit, merely frowned, reaching up to thoughtfully twirl one end of his mustache. "You seem fairly certain of this."
"I am." Keith told him. "Because we're all Galra."
At that, his brows lifted, nearly touching the edge of his hairline. "All of you?"
"All of us." Keith repeated.
"Hm." Coran nodded his head. "I suppose it makes sense. It is rather hard to think that Zarkon would have the entire race under his command."
"Trust me, he's tried." Keith remarked, arching a brow. "If he knew about us, he'd stop at nothing to stomp us out."
"Hence the secrecy." Coran remarked, looking understanding. "Now, one more question- what is this hand I am meant to have looked at?"
Flinching at the question, Keith all but instinctively buried his right hand deeper into the crock of his elbow. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
"If you're hiding it, it can hardly be nothing, now can it?" Coran asked, arching a brow, already holding out a hand. "Come now, Number Four, let me see it. Let's put some truth to that lie of yours."
Grumbling, Keith produced his right hand, allowing Coran to slip off his glove, carefully unwinding the bandages. Whatever he had been expecting, it likely hadn't been what he found, given the surprised arch of his brows.
"It's from when I fought that druid." Keith supplied. "Got nicked by some residual energy."
Turning over his hand, Coran frowned, carefully tracing the mottled purple skin with a finger. "Does it hurt?"
"No." Keith told him truthfully. "It's not a burn, it's just- it's my skin."
"Ah." Merely nodding his head, Coran let out a low hum. "I see. Has it spread since then?"
Shaking his head, Keith flexed his fingers. "No. It's probably just a glitch."
"Well, I suppose you'd know more about it than I." Coran admitted, wrapping the hand back up. "Do you plan on simply hiding it? You can't pass it off as being injured forever."
"I don't know." Keith said, tugging his glove back on once he was done. "Haven't thought about it."
That wasn't exactly true- he'd thought about it, a lot. But if there was a chance that they might connect with the Blade of Marmora in the future, was there really any point? Once the truth was out, there would be no reason for him to keep this human form any longer.
He hoped.
For all his complex feelings on the matter, the thought of becoming himself again... there was no part of him that didn't want that. He'd been wearing this human skin for far too long already- two years!-, and though he'd gotten used to it, he could never really claim he'd gotten comfortable.
His biggest fear was not being given that option- that Kolivan would tell him that he needed to remain this way so long as he served as the red paladin. Wearing this human face for the rest of his time as a paladin? He didn't know if he'd be able to stand it.
Whatever Kolivan decided, he would follow- but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.
"Well, do give it a bit of thought." Coran told him. "Now off with you. Hovering around his healing pod won't make him wake up faster."
"You'll let me know when Shiro wakes up?" Keith asked.
"Don't you worry about that, Number Four." Coran said, twirling his mustache. "I'll be sure to let everyone know when he's about to come out of the pod. I'm sure he'll be quite relieved to see you- he was awfully worried about you, as were we all."
"Yeah, that," Keith winced, still not sure what to make of that piece of information, "-sorry about that."
"No need to apologize." Coran told him. "Just good to see that you're alright."
Giving him a forced smile, Keith couldn't help but think how strange it was to hear those words from Coran. He was the only one on the ship who knew he was Galra- and after he had opted to abandon the princess, he was certain that his tune towards him would have changed.
But that didn't seem to be the case.
"I thought you'd be angry at me." Keith finally said.
"Angry at you?" Coran blinked. "What for?"
"For suggesting that we leave Allura."
"Ah, that." Coran clicked his tongue, before nodding his head. "Yes well, I cannot say in all earnestness, that I found your choice of words endearing," interesting choice of words, Keith couldn't help but think, "-but I do at least understand where it was you were coming from."
"Oh," Keith frowned, "-good to know."
Lingering for a moment longer, Keith shifted on his feet, sparing a glance over towards Shiro's healing pod. He wished he'd been there for him when he'd faced down Zarkon's witch, but he didn't know how much help he would have been.
He'd have to thank Hunk again later. From the sound of it, it was his timely intervention that had saved him.
He'd probably have to thank Allura too, but that was... yeah, he didn't know how he felt about that. Until her suspicions cleared, maybe he was better off avoiding her.
Contrary to popular expectations, Lance did actually train every once in awhile. Maybe not as often as he should, but hey, he still did it more than Pidge and Hunk, so that had to have counted for something, right?
It wasn't his fault if there was someone here who just loved throwing off the grading curve.
Which yeah- he was here. Keith, in all his glory- and believe him, that was sarcasm-, bayard sword in one hand, then another, the ambidextrous asshole that he was. One would think that having one of these things try to kill him would have been a turn off, but Keith and common sense appeared to be strangers to one another.
He didn't even know if he'd heard him come in or not- he was so focused on the gladiator, that it wouldn't shock him if he hadn't. Not wanting to get in the way, Lance hung back to the side, idly wondering what level he was on to get the thing to move like that.
However fast it was, it wasn't fast enough. He could have sworn that Keith had like, springs on his feet or something, because that was the only explanation as to how he had countered that blow. He made quick work of the gladiator after that, dispatching it with almost irritatingly effortless grace.
Pausing to wipe the sweat off his brow, Keith finally seemed to take notice of him, turning his way. "Come to get in some training, Lance?"
"No, I just like wandering around the ship in full paladin armor." Lance said.
"That's... sarcasm, right?" Keith asked, tilting his head.
"Yes Keith, that's sarcasm." Lance told him. "Believe me, this armor is not my idea of day to day wear."
"Well if you need the deck, it's yours." Keith told him, his bayard transforming back into its default form. "I just finished up."
"Thanks." Lance told him, watching him with one eye as Keith hooked his bayard on his belt, heading for the corner where he'd left his things. His jacket was tossed to one side, but otherwise he wore his casual clothes. Outside of team exercises, Keith almost never wore his paladin armor to train.
Who knows, maybe he just liked showing off his arms. They had more muscle than he'd have given them credit for, but it was harder to pay attention to it when they were covered in scars.
Where had he gotten those, anyways?
He was grateful that the healing pods had fixed the damage from the explosion cleanly, not leaving any scars. Those things were nothing short of miracle workers.
Watching as Keith sat crosslegged on the deck, poking a straw into his water pouch, it became clear that he had no intention of going anywhere. Which, fine- maybe he was just taking the chance to cool down. It wasn't like Keith watching him bothered him any.
"So what level was that?" Lance asked.
"Hm?" Glancing up at him, Keith blinked. "Fourteen."
"Wha- fourteen?" Lance sputtered. "How are you- I barely cleared level four the other day!"
Draining his pouch of water before he replied, Keith merely frowned. "Practice."
"No shit, Sherlock-"
"That's not my name."
"-but that's not what I- what?" Squinting, Lance frowned.
"...that's not my name?" Keith repeated, sounding less certain of himself this time.
"I know that's not your name, it's just a thing people say." Lance told him. "Geez Keith, were you raised under a rock or something?"
How did he not...?
Blinking, Keith set down his water pouch. "Oh."
Staring at him, thoughts of training forgotten for a moment, Lance became dimly aware that his mouth was open. Closing it, he watched as Keith seemed to settle into the corner, all but proving that he had no intention of leaving.
"So uh, you planning on watching me or something, because...?" Lance trailed off, shifting his weight onto his other foot.
"Yeah?" Keith told him. "That a problem?"
"No, no problem." Lance told him. "I mean, I guess I was watching you back there, so fair's fair, right?"
Right. Okay. He could do this. Keith watching him totally didn't bother him.
(It did. It bothered him a lot.)
Summoning his bayard, he transformed it into rifle form. The blue lion was, by far, the coolest part of the job, but the bayard was hands down the second coolest part. The cool sharpshooter of the team- or at least, that was the image that he was aiming for.
Starting up the drone training sequence- he didn't want to try the gladiators, not after Keith showing him up earlier. Especially not with him watching.
Which he was. Intently.
Pushing it aside, he focused on the exercise. It was easier to forget about him than he expected it to be, almost as if Keith's presence had vanished- so by the time he was done with the first round of drones, he was actually honestly surprised that Keith was still there.
"You have good aim."
Nearly leaping out of his skin, Lance let out a loud yelp. Yep, still here.
He had in fact, not budged from his spot at all. Likely he'd been watching him the whole time, including all the times he'd gotten shot. Though maybe he hadn't heard him right, because that sounded a lot like a...
"Was that a compliment, mullet?" Lance asked, cocking a brow.
Tilting his head, Keith looked a bit confused. "Yes? I thought that would be obvious."
Oh. Huh. Somehow he didn't really picture Keith as the type to compliment people- much less himself. They were rivals, for crying out loud!
"You don't react fast enough, though. Your movements are too sluggish." Keith added. "You're not observant enough of your surroundings either."
And the moment was done. Narrowing his eyes, Lance frowned, resting his bayard rifle by his hip. Who the hell had died and made Keith the expert? "Yeah? And you could do better?"
"Yes."
The statement was so plain, so direct, that he couldn't even feel any malice from it. Hell, he was pretty sure Keith didn't even mean anything by it, he was just stating what he saw as fact. And considering that the guy was already on level fourteen...
If he put his pride aside for one second, he couldn't say it wasn't true.
Didn't mean he had to take it.
Letting out a snort, Lance locked eyes with him. "Bet I'm still a better shot than you, though."
Narrowing his eyes, Keith frowned. "It's not a competition, Lance. I'm just trying to give you some advice."
Some advice- all he was doing was just listing off his faults! Which he knew already, thanks! If he wanted to deal with that, he could have just never left Earth.
"Well maybe I didn't ask for your advice." Lance hissed.
"Look, I was just trying to-"
"Oh hey, Keith, there you are!"
Honestly, he should probably be glad for Hunk's timely interruption, before things escalated. Snapping his mouth shut, Lance looked his way, wondering for a moment what it was that he wanted Keith for.
Oh right, the red lion. Hunk had been working on restoring it.
He still couldn't believe that Keith had tried fighting Zarkon. Seriously, what was this guy's deal? First he tells them that attacking Central Command was too risky, and that they should just ditch Allura, and then he challenges the head honcho himself?
Keith's gaze lingered him on a second longer, before he turned towards Hunk. "Hey, Hunk. Come to train?"
"What?" Hunk blinked. "Oh no, I'm not- I came to find you, actually."
"Me?" Keith blinked.
"Yup." Hunk told him. "Red lion's back. Thought you might want to know."
Keith perked up at that, getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket. "Yeah, I did. Thanks, Hunk."
"Anytime." Hunk told him, before finally turning his attention towards his friend. "Hey Lance. You getting in some training?"
"Yeah, just working on the old sharpshooter skills." Lance told him, giving his friend lazy grin. "Not staying, mullet?"
"I think you made it clear I'm not actually welcome here." Keith told him, tying his jacket around his waist- because ugh, of course he did. Who cares if it was practical, it looked terrible. "I should probably check on the red lion."
With that said, he brushed past Hunk, who watched Keith go with a bit of a frown, before turning back towards Lance. "...did you get into a fight with Keith?"
"No." Lance said, a bit too quickly.
Hunk, understandably, did not look convinced.
"Okay, maybe." Lance admitted. "I don't know- first he compliments my aim, then he starts digging into my weak points and telling me about how he could do better, and calling it advice. I can't figure the guy out sometimes, Hunk."
"I'm pretty sure he was just trying to help." Hunk told him. "He's just... you know, awkward. Probably didn't have as much of a chance to develop his people skills growing up. You should give him a chance."
Lance cocked a brow. It sounded a lot like Hunk was trying to defend him. "Since when are you and Keith such good buddies?"
He knew that Hunk had like, turned Keith into his pet project or something- something about correcting his god awful eating habits. Which he wished him luck with, but he wanted no part in himself, not after that one time he'd seen Keith literally pick food off the floor and eat it.
"I mean, I don't know if you could call us buddies or not, but..." Hunk frowned, shifting on his feet, "-I mean, I'd like for us to be friends, but I don't want to assume-"
"Hunk."
"-or pressure Keith to- huh? Oh, sorry. Rambling." Letting out a nervous laugh, Hunk twiddled his thumbs. "It's just... I talked with him yesterday, you know?"
"Yeah?" Lance asked. "He spill his life story or something?"
Which made sense. If he was going to confide in someone, Hunk was a great person to pick. He was a little jealous that he was edging into his best friend territory, but hey, it wasn't like he owned Hunk.
"Kind of?" Hunk hesitated. "I might have uh, accidentally forced him into a corner."
Wincing, Lance gave his friend a sympathetic look. "Ouch. Surprised he didn't snap."
"I mean, he's not that bad." Hunk told him. "Yeah, he looked a little freaked out, but I wouldn't say he snapped. I think... I think he was more afraid, than anything."
Letting out a snort, Lance arched his brows in disbelief. "Keith? Afraid? Are we talking about the same guy?"
"I mean... yeah?" Hunk frowned. "Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Hunk, he trains without his armor. He challenged Zarkon." Lance told him. "I don't think Keith's afraid of anything, much less feelings."
"Hm, good point." Hunk admitted. "But like... Shiro's the toughest guy we know, and even he's afraid of stuff, right?"
"Yeah, true." Lance agreed- not that he could blame him. Being held prisoner by the Galra did not sound like a walk in the park. "So what, Keith's afraid of us finding out about his past?"
"Yeah, I think so." Hunk told him. "That's why he doesn't want to do the mind meld."
Oh yeah, he'd almost forgotten about that. Huh. He knew what Pidge's reasons were for avoiding it, but Keith's? Yeah, what was up with that?
"Guess that's why his end of the bond is always so closed off." Lance mused. "What do you think he's hiding that's so bad?"
Hunk tried to avert his gaze- but not fast enough. Lifting his brows, Lance took a few steps forward, fixing his gaze on his friend. "You already know, don't you?"
"I mean... I've got an idea?" Hunk frowned. "I- you know how Keith always talks about the Galra Empire, right?"
Frowning, Lance considered the question. Now that he mentioned it... he couldn't not think of even a single instance in which he just said the Galra. "Yeah. It's always the empire, and stuff. What's up with that?"
"I think... I think maybe Keith's been in a war before." Hunk told him.
At first, he wanted to laugh. Keith? In a war? He was barely one year older than him, how could he have been in a-
...oh.
Oh, shit.
"Wait, okay, hold on-" were it not for his helmet, he would have run his hand through his hair, using the action to try and process his thoughts better, "-are you... are you saying that Keith was a child solider?"
Hello, explanation he never wanted.
Chewing on his lip, Hunk nodded. "I think... I think maybe on the wrong side, too."
"I- that's," opening and shutting his mouth, Lance realized he didn't know what to say to that, "-oh wow. I'm an asshole."
Christ, he really was, too. Keith hadn't been trying to needle at him- Hunk was right, he had been just trying to help. Sure, maybe he could have used a little more tact, but he already knew that Keith was lacking in the social skills department, even without Hunk telling him that much.
Had he seen people die before because they were too slow? Was... was that what that was about?
...had Keith seen people die?
"Right, okay, that's... that's a lot heavier than I expected," Lance admitted, "-but yeah, that makes sense. I hate it, but it makes sense. Have you... have you talked to Shiro about this? Does he know? Because I feel like Shiro should really know."
Because he was so not qualified for this.
"I mean, I spoke to him about it before, after the Balmera, but not since then." Hunk told him. "I don't think Keith's told him anything either."
Huh. Judging from how close they were, he could have sworn Shiro would know about it. Guess not.
How did an ex-child solider end up at the Galaxy Garrison anyways? It was connected to the military, he guessed, so what- had Mullet been fished out of a war zone somewhere? That... sounded so plausible it was almost scary.
If Lance were to make a list of his favorite people, Keith wouldn't even be on it. But even he knew that when someone needed help, it was time to put differences aside.
And boy howdy, if Hunk was right, did Mullet ever need their help.
He felt Red even before he reached her hangar.
It was like a breath of fresh air, one that he didn't know that he needed. He hadn't realized how used he'd gotten to her presence in the back of his mind, until she had left him. Putting his argument with Lance out of his mind, he instead focused on that feeling.
Her golden eyes gleamed, head resting on the floor, as if she were waiting for him, and he found himself cracking a smile. If she held any ill will towards him for throwing her into that tough battle, he couldn't tell. Making his way across the red lion's hangar, he tentatively reached out, hesitating for the span of a moment.
In a flash, what Allura had told him yesterday came back. It was enough to make him draw his hand back- what if she was right, and he had been mentally compromised? Maybe he wouldn't be able to tell, but the red lion surely would have. Was he prepared for that rejection if he had been?
No, if he had been, better to face it sooner, rather than later, before it could become an issue. He'd turn himself over to Coran, rather than Allura, and pray that the latter would be merciful when the time came.
He'd rather be shot out of an airlock than potentially compromise the team or the Blades.
Drawing in a breath, he reached out, lightly pressing his hand against the red lion's massive jaw. For a moment, a static sensation coursed through him-
-and then she opened up, allowing him inside.
Exhaling, Keith felt his shoulders slump. The witch's magic had brushed up against his mind, but he was still whole.
Making his way into the red lion's cockpit, he settled into the pilot's seat. Closing his eyes, Keith leaned back his head, simply basking in the sound of her low rumble.
"Good to have you back, Red."
The red lion seemed to purr in response, and he felt his smile grow. There was an underlying note of frustration- at having failed to wreck her terrible vengeance against Zarkon.
"Maybe next time." He whispered. "We'll get him."
Dimly, it occurred to him that he should probably take this chance to contact Kolivan, but... eh. It could wait until tomorrow. Ulaz would have already informed him that he was fine, and that he had returned to the paladins, so there was no rush.
Besides, better to contact him once Shiro had recovered.
Speaking of which... he wanted to press him with questions about the Blade that Shiro had met. He wanted too, to ask about how Thace was doing- he owed him a debt.
They all did.
Maybe Shiro would tell him about the Blade. He wouldn't have any reason to hide it. Perhaps it was one he knew- perhaps even his mother.
But what were the odds of that?
About as good as the corrupted wormhole depositing him at his birthplace.
Huh, maybe Ulaz had a point.
Pulling up his legs into the pilot's seat, Keith settled in. He wasn't tired, but he hadn't been able to fully relax while the red lion had been offline. Closing his eyes, he was just about to get settled in, when a small screen popped up in the corner of his lion.
"Ah, Number Four!" Coran's voice nearly made him groan, dropping his feet and shooting the Altean man a small glare. "Thought you might be with the red lion. I've got some good news!"
Perking up at that, Keith sat up. "Shiro?"
"Indeed!" Coran told him, with a nod of his head. "He'll be waking up in oh, about a few doboshes or so. Thought you might like to know!"
"Yeah, thanks Coran." Keith told him, giving the man a smile. "I'll be right there."
Screen flickering off, Keith rose to his feet. The red lion lowered her head, a faint reassuring purr filling his mind. Smiling, he rested his hand on the lion's controls for a moment longer, before making his way down the ramp, and towards the med bay.
The red lion was back online, Shiro was waking up- for the moment, things were looking up.