Chapter Text
Routine patrols were necessary, especially in Galra controlled sectors. Lance flicked a switch, bringing up the map of his route, and Blue hummed a tune as she swayed lazily from side to side. They came out of the wormhole, directly into red territory, and Lance did his checks as it closed silently behind them.
D’vix rose before them. It was a cacophony of juxtaposed colours: neon orange and sky blue and so much red that Lance honestly worried staring at it would drive him mental. Two dusty moons flanked the planet: Hellrin and Corral’a. There had been chatter that Hellrin was of import to the Galra supply ships, so Lance was tasked with quick recon before he continued on his patrol.
“Maybe we’ll see some action this time around,” Lance said.
Blue huffed, dropping her left side and rolling them over. Lance laughed. She righted them before coming to a gentle stop just before D’vix and its gravitational field. Calculations fired up on the screen and Lance scanned them over, searching for anything report worthy, and frowned when a line of code pinged red. Blue’s ears perked up and her head snapped to the side.
“What d’you got?” Lance asked, hands flying over the keys. Blue turned, easy, easy, and there in the distance was a Galra transport ship, heading straight for Corral’a. Lance grinned. “Good girl.”
Quickly, he brought up the comms for the Castle, firing off a quick message, along with the image of the ship. It meandered forward, in no real hurry. Narrowing his eyes, Lance maximized the image. Something felt – off. Blue growled low and Lance startled when Allura staticked into view, the connection heavily distorted.
“We have received your transmission, Lance. There’s something strange about the data. Maintain your distance, but see if you can figure out why the readings are off. We’ll head for your location.”
“Yeah, something’s not right.” Reaching up, he clicked twice to get a reading on the ship. It was definitely limping along, a temptation, and Blue’s growl grew. “ETA?”
“Shiro and Pidge will be arriving back shortly. Roughly thirty Earth minutes, I would guess.”
“Gotcha. Lance out.”
The display remained on the Galra transporter and its faltering path. Blue’s hackles were raised, her claws flexing, and Lance gathered as much information from her display as possible. “What do you think, Blue? Should we take a closer look?”
Blue grumbled, the display pushing in closer to the vessel and its plotted course to Corral’a. That was - even more unusual. Her curiosity got the better of her and she drifted forward. “Okay, whoa, let’s think this through. If it’s a trap, we’re not really prepared to trigger it.”
A flash of them leaving at the first sight of danger settled in his mind. “I know you think you’re the fastest kitty in the known galaxy, but Red has you beat there.” The ship continued to meander, a fat lure waiting for them to take the bait. Blue’s curiosity prickled sharp against his thoughts. “Fine. How close can you get without it seeing us?”
Blue hummed, head cocking as she projected a path on the screen. Lance plugged in the numbers alongside his own, squinting. “Have you ever heard the phrase: curiosity killed the cat?”
She didn’t seem to care, paws flexing, thoughts on stalking and pouncing and killing. He sighed and flicked another switch. “Of course not, you’re a giant space Lion. Yeah, yeah, let’s do this.”
Purring, Blue rolled her thanks over his thoughts before allowing Lance to take control. He adjusted their trajectory and she took off, staying just above D’vix and its pull. The ship pinged more data as they drew closer. Corral’a would become visible shortly. Lance breathed out.
Just before they crested the rise of the planet, the ship picked up speed. Panic jumped up Lance’s spine and Blue responded to it, slamming on the brakes and backpedalling. Alarms blared and his radar lit up with red dots, so many red dots, and Lance’s fingers flew over the keyboard.
“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but here we are. Mierda. Blue, we need to run and we need to run fast.”
The force of Blue’s thrusters slammed Lance back into his seat and he groaned, fingers flexing over the keys. Getting the commlink back up, he cursed when it was nothing but white noise and static. Jamming tech, then. This wasn’t good.
“Faster, faster, faster,” Lance chanted, entering in the coordinates to get them as far away from the ambush as possible. The screen lit up red. Blue snarled as she ground to a halt.
Before them was a veritable blockade, Galra ships clustering in formation as they closed in on Lance and Blue. Furious, Lance rerouted them and Blue took off just as a wave of fire bore down on them. Lance thrust the keyboard away and took up controls again, scanning the incoming missiles and deciding on strategy.
“Go up. We have to take down a few of the ships to scatter them and hope we get the one with the jammer.” Lance swiped to the left, waiting for the information to come pouring through. Blue bared her teeth. “Once the signal is gone, we’ll be able to run to safety.”
An image of destroying the entire fleet flashed briefly through Lance’s mind and he laughed. “Hey, we’re show-offs, not suicidal. Though if we can’t get the jammer offline, we’ll have to hold the line. You up for it?”
Blue roared her acquiescence, her excitement, and Lance fired. Half the missiles disappeared under Lance’s counterattack and Blue dodged around the other half, her speed not quite as high as Red’s but her ability to turn on a dime legendary. Lance shifted gears, taking them into a dive, and Blue shot straight for the first battlecruiser.
They fired, but Blue navigated easily around them. Lance tracked trajectories and gave off coordinates, which Blue lined up for him. The stars disappeared behind the blue-white flames as an explosion decimated the Galra battlecruiser. Lance jerked forward in his seat as they were carried out and away from it. Blue shot straight into another one, her snarl mirroring Lance’s shout of rage as they tore through metal and wires, through one side of the ship and out the other. Wheeling her around, Lance flicked a switch and Blue fired three quick bursts of light before darting forward to deal damage with her claws. The explosion was silent, a brilliant blast of energy that quickly condensed in the rolling expanse of space, and Lance breathed out.
With a hole in the fleet, Blue ran toward open space, rolling her mind against Lance’s to check him over quickly. He waved her off as he tried once more to connect the commlink. Still static. The jamming signal was still up. Shit.
“Looks like we’re staying,” Lance said, running his hand over the switches. Blue growled. “We got this. We – we’ll be fine. Ready, girl?”
Blue’s head snapped up and to the side. Alarms blared and Lance brought up the screen, gaze darting over the barrage of red dots as they turned to track them. He swallowed. ETA of the rest of the team was still twenty minutes, and that was if they weren’t intercepted. Focus. No time to worry about that. His fingers danced over the controls, Blue humming her agreement as she turned to face them, her hackles up and roar gathering deep in her chest.
The back of the chair hissed as a targeting screen pushed forward and sighted in front of Lance’s left eye, the controls on the arms of the chair changing to triggers. Lance lined up the shots with the ones on the screen, quick calibrations scrolling through the HUD display on his helmet. Inhaling, he held his breath as green lights flashed across the board.
Exhale. Fire.
A brilliant burst of gunfire rocketed forth from Blue’s mouth, breaking apart into multiple smaller beams as they raced toward the oncoming Galra ships. Lance didn’t bother watching, just quickly resighted his lens and flicked his thumb over the trigger shift, waiting for the calibrations to complete. Blue moved further away, keeping Lance at the same distance from the targets.
Green. Fire.
Green. Fire.
Green. Fire –
Blue screamed as gunfire peppered her back, throwing Lance’s latest calculations off target. The seatbelt cut cruel into his neck, nearly choking him. Shoving the targeting screen back into the seat, Lance caught control of Blue as she whirled, claws sharp and ready, fury pouring off of her in concentrated waves. Her mind blurred against his, feeding off his faith in her, his faith in the team, and when Lance punched forward, Blue let forth a massive beam of icy energy. It caught the eight ships that had snuck up on them in a deadly wave, shattering them apart instantly in a flurry of devastating explosions.
Spinning Blue back to face the overwhelming wave of Galra pouring down on them, Lance’s stomach nearly dropped to his knees. Blue wrapped her consciousness around him, her reassurance unable to quell the sheer terror that clawed desperately at the back of his throat. Seventeen minutes. They could – they could hold out for seventeen minutes. Blue rumbled her acquiescence and Lance pulled his thoughts away from the cold reality of space and back to surviving. He had to survive. Switches glowed to life under his hands and he followed Blue’s instructions, flicking over the buttons as she raced away from the ensuing hoard.
The final charge completed and both side windows disappeared under a flurry of blue light as identical shoulder cannons became available. Blue snarled as she twisted around, her fury enough to focus Lance on the task at hand. He refused to die here. But if he did, he would take thousands of these assholes down with him. There was no way they would be easy targets.
The cannon fired thick spindles of sparkling blue light, and Lance tensed against the recoil, biting back a groan when his armour cut deep into his skin. Blue caught herself and lined up again, awaiting Lance’s input, vibrating with unresolved tension. Lance punched in the final calculations and more light spilled out into the darkness of space, the Galra ships shredded apart in a matter of moments. Fifteen minutes. Each recoil painted new bruises onto Lance’s skin, pain sparking up and over his throat as he was thrown back in his seat and forward again. Panting, Lance lined up the next shot. Blue hissed out an exhausted query.
“We can do this, girl,” Lance gasped. “Fifteen minutes. We can do it.”
The cannon whirred angrily and fired, rocketing Lance back and then snapping him forward. Something gave in his right shoulder, a blinding shard of pain that forced a cry from his throat. Blue coiled around him, worry overtaking the rage, and Lance breathed through the tunnel crowding his vision.
Blue pushed harder, worry morphing into terror, and Lance reassured her. “I’ll be fine. We have to hold the line.”
With a thunderous roar, Blue lit up the entire panel room and Lance followed her directions. The shoulder cannons slotted back into place, the side screens opening up again, and Lance balked at the sheer size of the fleet still remaining. He swallowed. Blue pulled him away from his dark thoughts.
“Right. Okay. Let’s do this.”
Once more, the targeting screen slid over his left eye, the HUD lighting up with rolling lights. Lance licked his lips. Blue waited, crouched and ready, and when the display flashed green, fired off another shot. His shoulder twinged, distracting him. Lance pushed through it. He had to. The display lit up with explosions, just like before, but the amount of lights didn’t dim, the flow of Galra didn’t slow, and Lance shouted his despair.
“Why don’t you bastards die already?” He jammed his thumb into the button, over and over, but nothing changed. Frustration gathered as tears in his eyes, rage biting his lip ragged, and Blue coiled tighter around his consciousness, blurring the line between them more.
The first ship slipped through his barrage of fire and Blue danced backwards, trying to maintain distance but losing agility due to the guns slowing her down. Lance tried to compensate for the drag with his own calculations, but it wasn’t enough. The ship fired. Blue ducked her shoulder and pushed back, the jerk of her body sending Lance scrambling to tuck away the targeting system, hand caught under the display. Two more ships dove in close and Blue dodged. The targeting system slingshotted forward and then back, catching and wrenching Lance’s forearm backwards. He heard more than felt the crack, and had a single moment to wonder what exactly had happened before pain exploded over his senses.
His scream was enough to distract Blue. Her left flank was unprotected and took the brunt of the fire, her howl of pain mingling with Lance’s own as Lance’s arm was twisted further out of alignment, his suit tearing. He panicked. Scrambling at the console with his right hand, he bit back sobs of pain as each of Blue’s movements pinned him tighter, fractured his arm more, and he could barely see through the lights pocking his vision.
“Please, please,” he panted, wrenching at it, fingers slipping over the glass. “Por favor, Blue, por favour, duele!”
She kept dodging, unable to stop, and Lance knew in the back of his mind that if she did they would both perish. But everything was agony and he couldn’t get free, he was trapped, pinned in place and helpless. Another two shots hit their mark and Blue was thrown backwards. Lance’s head snapped sharp against the consoled screen, fracturing the HUD display. Warmth collected above his brow, trickling slowly down and into his eyes. Blood. He was bleeding. He couldn’t breathe.
Blue shoved against his mind. He could barely hear her through his own thoughts, of the pain and fear trumping everything else. She broke through to him with a howl, wrenching him free of his torment and suddenly Lance could see. He could see the ships coming toward them, he could move away and dodge and push Blue toward safety. He – she – they could hold out until backup arrived, until their family arrived; they could do it.
Dully, pain radiated in the back of their thoughts, shrouded in shadow. They slipped between the four ships that had broken the ranks and pounced on one before pushing off to the next. The explosions rattled through their claws. Once all four had been dispatched, they turned toward the remaining fleet.
Snarling, they crouched. A sliver of pain trickled to the forefront and they used it to their advantage, strengthening their desire to win, to survive, and a whir started up in their flanks. Pockets shifted off their back, the armour moving aside as turrets spiralled out into space beside them: five, ten, twenty. The size of their paws, the guns rotated around them, caught in their orbit and charging up.
Markers dotted their eyes and the turrets swept out to either side, lining up. Each mark caught. Lights turned green. The turrets fired and they fired alongside it, thick beams of frost tipped light, and the explosions lit up the horizon in columns of fierce flames. The turrets recharged. They locked on once more. The fleet kept coming.
Bounding forward, they fired once again, obliterating the front ranks of the Galra fleet. Diving directly into the fray, they dodged gunfire and targeted the larger gunships, removing them as the turrets kept the smaller ships away from them. Beams of multicoloured light lit up the space around them, explosions rocking them side to side, and they lost two turrets and then two more. Twisting, they gathered power in their mouth and let loose, strings of light distorting a battleship and cleaving off the bridge. The rest of the ship exploded. Two more turrets gone.
Launching into the air, they activated the shoulder cannons. The turrets kept them safe while it charged, and when they fired, it decimated two hangar ships and the final gunship. Four battlecruisers remained, as well as the final Galra battleship, massive and daunting in its size. They hissed at it, a promise thundering in their chest. He – something screamed; he – someone sobbed. They pushed it down. Survive.
Three more turrets went down, smoldering before being blown into dust, and they danced backwards as the fleet pushed forward. D’vix pulled at their paws, its gravity nearly overwhelming. They hovered. The fleet flashed in challenge and they roared back. The battleship fired.
Barely managing to dodge, they lost another turret. Spinning away, they led the beam through two battlecruisers, cutting the fleet down to its last leg. They had to hope it was enough. They had to hope – two blasts rocketed into their side and they spun out of control, barely catching themselves. Pain shot through them and the screaming was back, the sobbing was nearly impossible to ignore, and she couldn’t – he – they had to survive. Just survive.
Four minutes.
Staring down the battleship, they panted. D’vix pulled, Hellrit rose in their peripheral, and they were down to ten turrets. Targets arose in their eyes and they lined up. Pulled the trigger. More of the smaller ships disappeared under their onslaught, but the battleship pushed through. They sagged. Three minutes. Lined up as two more turrets disappeared. Fired. The battleship fired back and they just barely managed to dodge, pain blistering over their muzzle and the stretch of their ear. They snarled. The ship lit up with another charge.
They had to take it down. Four smaller ships circled around them, the turrets doing all they could to keep them protected, but an explosion rocked them backwards. Screaming; begging; she couldn’t protect him. They had to keep going. They had no choice.
One minute.
Please.
The battleship fired.
The turrets jumped in front of the blast, taking the brunt of the damage and disintegrating into nothing. The remainder of the blast struck them in the chest, sending them hurtling backwards and into the waiting arms of D’vix’s gravitational force. They tried to push back and out, using the last of their energy to escape its grasp. They roared, pushing, scrambling; desperate. The battleship moved into place above them, waiting. They had no choice. Break free. Break free. The battleship charged.
“Lance! We’re here! Lance!”
Zero.
The sound of his – their – his name jerked Lance out of the connection and slammed him unceremoniously back into his body. Blue screamed around him. Lance screamed with her, pain overtaking all his senses. His arm was mangled, a bloody mess trapped in the wires of the tracking monitor. He couldn’t see out of his left eye. His throat was shredded pulp but his voice still garbled out, desperation in each cry. His team called for him, alarmed and terrified, and he couldn’t – couldn’t –
The battleship fired and lit up the display, aimed directly at them, and Lance couldn’t do anything to stop it, couldn’t hope to get shields up or move Blue out of the way. His voice petered off. His team shouted for him. Blue reached out, her mind slipping easily against his, so big and loving and filled with certainty. He wrapped himself up in it, wrapped himself in her, and closed his eyes.
They fell.