Here, Lancey Lance

Chapter Sixteen

What could he do?

That was all that was going through Lance's head as he was dragged down the halls of the castle-ship by the Galra. He wasn't sure where they were taking him– where the location of their breach was. His entire body felt heavy, his head dizzy from everything happening too fast and not to mention that less than ten minutes ago, Pidge and Coran poked and prodded at his body for their research.

Their grips on either of his arms were firm and tight and it hurt. Neither of the Galra said a word as they continued to march, their steps echoing against the walls. Lance struggled against their hold, trying to think of a plan to get out of the situation but the farther they went from the rest of the team, the more helpless he felt. His eyes darted around, looking for any inspiration of an idea, just something that will allow him to escape. If he had Shiro or Hunk's strength, he could easily get away.

But he was just Lance. And Lance wasn't strong.

He nearly shook his head, trying to clear that thought, because, no, that wasn't quite right. He might not have been physically strong but he was mentally strong enough to have fought off the entire feline transformation, so that had to be counted for something. Well, maybe not for what was happening at that moment, because physical strength really would help right about now.

His eyes flickered up for just a second, quick enough to see a disturbance in the otherwise smooth ceiling– a vent.

Lance knew the layout of the central ventilation after he was able to get into them due to his enhanced jumping abilities. He knew where the vents above him led to and how to navigate inside them. He enjoyed being able to find rooms he otherwise would not have discovered without his new ability. How, however, would he be able to get up there with the Galra having hold of him?

He feigned struggling, making sure they didn't catch on that he was building a plan, and tested their grips. They kept pulling him forward, not up and forward. Meaning if he dropped, made himself a deadweight, they might just let go. He thought about that for no more than a couple of ticks before deciding that would be the best, and maybe only, option. So, he waited, continuing to put up a fight. As soon as another vent was in sight, he let himself drop to the floor.

The Galra became off balance, letting go of their grasps and Lance had not hesitated to jump to his feet and shove one of them to the ground. He pivoted on his foot and swung his other into the side of the second Galra's head, effectively knocking him unconscious. As the first began to stand, Lance jumped onto his shoulders, using him as an aid to get even higher and into the vent swiftly.

As soon as he was inside the tight vent, he could see his vision swim and he wondered how long it would take for his damn heart to properly pump what was needed to make up for the loss of his blood. Didn't your body produce a crap-ton of blood all the time? Frustration was building but he had no time to think any further on the subject as his mission was to help the rest of his team.

Creeping closer to his destination, he kept movements small but hasty to keep from being heard in the ceiling. He was getting close, he could hear their voices getting louder. He could hear their conversation.

"What do you want with him?" That shaky voice belonged to Hunk and Lance could feel his heart squeeze at how afraid he sounded.

"Answer him," Keith seethed.

Lance was cautious as he slowly began to move the vent covering, hoping with all his might that none of the Galra looked up. Everything needed to be done tentatively and with pace or else there was risk that his plan could fall apart, if you could even call what he was doing a plan. Really, he wasn't sure what his next move would be but he needed to do something.