Chapter 2:

signs of resistance

Pidge is talking about Earth – old Earth history, that is – as they explore the outpost on Typ'ff Prita. The locals, a thick stocky race that resembles a cross between armadillo, crocodiles and ambulatory boulders, pay them little mind. Off-world traders and merchants amble up and down the street, coming to and from the spaceport. A local spiritualist calls from the street corner in clicks, hisses and whirs. Somewhere, in the distance, there's a bellowing warble (someone just won a round of H'tpha according to their Altean guides – space poker, according to Shiro).

Typ'ff Prita is on the edge of Galra space, but only just, and has changed more hands over the millennia than anyone has bothered to keep track of. The buildings here are made of dense clay and stacked in a honeycomb fashion, one on top the other. Every level rotates 30 degrees to the right of the one below it. Imperial Galra propaganda posters and holoscrawl plasters the main street and sky, but it's clearly outdated and glitches frequently. The posters are fading and peeling, half-covered in graffiti they can't read (Allura assures them it's nothing complimentary) and flyers for local shops and markets (Hunk and Coran are already deeply involved in making a market list).

Shiro is nodding politely as Pidge rambles on, but his stiff posture and the way he scans the horizon tells another story: he's riding on the razor's edge, like he expects to be attacked at any moment. Lance is clearly bored, his eyes wandering, and Keith wonders how long it'll be before his feet follow and they'll be forced to bail him out. Allura, however, is intently listening to Pidge's description of the Roman Empire's rise and fall.

"Eventually, the Vandals managed to corner Rome between Carthage and the Huns," Pidge explains, holding her hands apart, each standing in for one of the two forces. "And it was all over for them. The Roman Empire never recovered. It completely fell apart."

Allura hummed in consideration. "And you suspect that this same pattern applies to the Galra, correct?"

"Well, yeah, it makes sense, statistically speaking," Pidge shrugs. "Maintaining an empire of this size with this kind of aggressive territorial expansion - I'm actually surprised we haven't run into any rebels yet."

"I'm not," Hunk says, dropping back a little to match their stride. His expression sours a little. "I mean, don't get me wrong, but if I wasn't a Paladin with a super cool lion, I don't think I'd want to take on the Galra either."

Lance rolls his eyes, giving Hunk a long-suffering look. "But you totally did."

"I guess…?" Hunk manages, a bit baffled, and then shakes it off. "That's totally different though! Ordinary people don't just go hopping off to save the universe from evil space empires!"

Keith refrains from pointing out that that's exactly what they did. Even if it was, technically, not on purpose - at least, at first, anyways.

Lance, however, has no problem doing it for him.

Except…

"That's because we're the Chosen Paladins," Lance says, spinning dramatically into a strange pose, one hand to the sky.

It's something Keith's seen before but can't place, but he's more distracted by the way chosen ripples through his being. His hand, the one that had been burned at the quintessence refinery, twitches.

Lance dramatically poses again, jabbing his hand to the sky a little more aggressively. "The Chosen Paladins? Hello? Come on, guys," he whines, sagging. "Don't tell me you've never watched Super Magic Knights Vehicle Go!"

Hunk, bewildered, shakes his head in the negative.

Pidge sighs loudly.

Allura's eyes dart to Shiro, looking for some kind of explanation for the Weird Earth Thing.

Shiro raises an eyebrow at Lance.

"Isn't that a kid's cartoon?" Keith asks, at last.

Lance sags even further and then straightens to his full height like a shot, completely aghast. "It's not just for kids!"

He then pauses and stares at Keith like he's grown a second head. "You watch cartoons?"

"Of course not!" Keith snaps, bristling inwardly. "I'm not a kid!"

But it didn't mean he didn't know what it was. Some of the other foster kids used to watch it. Cadets, too. He'd just… never seen a point to it. It wasn't even accurate. If anyone tried half that stuff without something like their Lions, they'd be an ashy smear on the planet surface – nothing more than burning space junk and burned limbs and…

Something catches in his throat and his hand automatically goes to the knife he's always carried with him. He's only distantly aware of Shiro tensing at his movement; it's like he's floating outside his body and nothing is quite right. His fingers close around the wrapped cloth of the hilt and the world snaps back into place.

"The market's this way!" Coran calls from up ahead. He waves his arm frantically, bouncing in place. "Come on, stop dragging your weirnaks!"

Shiro relaxes fractionally and they all turn, starting towards the older Altean. Then, Pidge pauses, looks back at Lance and pushes her glasses up with a feral grin: "Besides, Lance, it's an anime."

Lance just gives her a withering look and then makes a face, tipping his head side to side quickly as he mouths her words in pantomime of the Green Paladin.

Keith rolls his eyes.

Honestly, Lance can be such a kid. At least Pidge has an excuse.

"Say, guys, how are we supposed to get in contact with these rebels anyway?" Hunk asks.

"If they exist," Pidge corrects him.

"Right, if," Hunk agrees, nodding.

Shiro's expression wavers and pinches. "I don't remember hearing about any rebel cells, but…" he pauses, shaking his head, and deliberately starts scanning the rooftops again.

I don't remember a lot remains unsaid.

Or maybe he doesn't want to. Keith can't quite figure out when it's one or the other, only that something's wrong with Shiro and it's not his Galra-tech prosthetic arm – well, most days, anyways.

Sometimes, Shiro has bad days. Everyone knows that.

PTSD is what Pidge terms it. Keith never asks her why she knows what it is or why she was expecting to need to. There really isn't a need to ask. There are times he wonders if he has it too.

"Guys, guys, they're a secret rebel alliance," Lance says, rushing to catch up. "They're not just going to be like hello I'm with the rebellion!"

Some of the traders and locals turn their heads to look at them and Shiro gives Lance a warning glare. In an instant, the whole mood of the group shifts. Everyone's hands are on their bayards and small dark arcs of energy jump between the fingers of Shiro's artificial hand. Allura and Coran both shift subtly, losing some of that delicate, almost-awkward space-elf quality in a way that Keith has trouble understanding fully but it's something he knows, like the way he was drawn to Blue's hiding place. It's something that drags nails across some part of his brain and sets the skin on the back of his neck to prickling even though that sense of a threat isn't aimed at him. He bares his teeth in the direction of the crowd and glares, both his hands on his weapons.

It's that shift in the Alteans that has the traders and locals turning away, in the end.

And if he's being honest, Keith can't blame them: when it comes down to it, Alteans are kind of terrifying. Allura is quite capable of throwing Shiro like a sack of potatoes with one hand and Shiro's both the tallest of them and pretty heavy to boot. And both she and Coran have proven capable of enduring things that would have probably killed any one of them that tried.

How then did the Galra succeed in wiping all but two of them out?

Where was the resistance? Hadn't anyone fought back?

Typ'ff Prita's wind picks up, howling through the alleyways and honeycomb buildings, and, ahead, Coran curses. A storm is fast closing on the horizon and they've only just reached the edge of the marketplace. Merchants rush to close up shop and locals let out hisses and loud clicks as they hunker down, curling into rough, stony spirals.

Keith tastes ozone between his teeth and when he looks up, it's Shiro who has stopped and faces them. Shiro's eyes flicker with the glowing yellow of an active Lion and when he's back to himself, he says, "It's a bad storm: large thunderheads, strong winds."

Black Lion is the sky and the storm, a spirit of freedom, and as long as it knows the skies and freedom, so does Shiro.

Allura looks away, quickly scanning the graffitied and poster-covered sides of the nearby buildings, and then beckons them to follow. "This way."

The team exchanges quick glances and follows her lead.

Notes:

You must trigger a Bawehk to win the round in H'tpha. Three Bawehks out of five are necessary to claim the betting pot.

Super Magic Knights Vehicle Go is the Best ever, according to Lance. Pidge thinks the dub sucks.