Don't Ask, I'll Never Tell

Running Out of Time

The Other Keith stiffened at the flashing lights and blaring alarms. He didn't bother to place the dessert tray on the table. Instead, he allowed the dishes he carried to shatter against the floor before sprinting from the dining room to the control room.

As a Galra soldier, he was trained to be prepared for anything but nothing could have prepared him for the chaos that was in store. Just as the doors slid open, a plethora of refugees rushed out, shoving one another and trampling the smaller ones underfoot in their haste to get out. The Other Keith threw his back against the wall to get out of their way but still managed to have his shoulder clipped by a terrified Bulmara. He pressed his hand to his shoulder and pulled it away to look before wiping the blood off on his pants. Ignoring the stinging pain in his shoulder, he dodged frantic refugees on his way to the figures who stood at the controls.

"What's going on, here?" He demanded over the crowd's panicked screams.

"We have a rat among us," Matt replied through gritted teeth. His eyes shot to the golden eyed refugee who was still struggling in Hunk's grip.

The Other Keith considered the struggling refugee for a moment before turning to Pidge. "Where's Shiro?"

"He's trying to settle everyone down. I can't tell you where he is exactly. It's like a swarm of bees in here. No one stays still long enough for me to pick anyone out of the crowd."

The Other Keith nodded knowingly then turned to the refugee. "I suspect that I'm right to assume that you're the reason for this chaos?" His tone was dripping with acid. If there was one thing he hated, it was chaos.

"You're on the wrong side, Copy Cat." The refugee mused. "What happened to you? Don't tell me that you actually care about these doomed souls." He laughed when the Paladin refused to answer. "You do! How pathetic! I never thought I'd see the day when a Galra soldier went soft!"

The Other Keith blinked and, for just a moment, his eyes glowed like burning embers. He was tired of playing games. His hand shot out and closed tightly around the refugee's neck. The refugee's eyes rolled back as he gasped for air. Hunk released him in shock. "Don't pretend to know me." The Other Keith's eyes gleamed with malice. "Because, if you DID know me, I doubt that you would be laughing." He gradually tightened his grip around his neck.

The refugee wheezed again. His face was turning a light shade of blue.

"Keith! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!" Hunk shouted.

The Other Keith paused as if the concept had just occurred to him and released his grip.

The refugee sunk to the ground, rubbing his neck with his hands. He went into a coughing fit and scrabbled against the floor but the Other Keith was not finished with him just yet. As the refugee tried to crawl away, the Other Keith slammed his boot down on the refugee's fingers. The refugee howled in pain. The other three winced.

"I know that you sent a message to the Galra. How do we undo it?"

"You can't!" He cried. "Please let me go!"

"There IS a way to undo it! There has to be!" He ground his foot into his hand which earned him another scream of pain from the refugee.

"I don't know! I DON'T KNOW! I was just told to connect the tracking device to the coordinates of the control system! I wasn't told how it worked! Please! My hand! It hurts!"

"I think he's telling the truth," Pidge said through gritted teeth.

"All we can do now is wait for the Galra to come." Matt's voice shook slightly. He cleared his throat and continued. "We need to prepare for the fight of our lives."

"I don't think it's gonna be much of a fight." The Other Keith muttered. The refugee squeaked as his injured hand was kicked out of the way.

"Why?" Hunk asked.

The Other Keith inhaled sharply and stiffened. "Don't let any ship near. It doesn't matter if they're one hundred feet away or one hundred THOUSAND feet away. Destroy. All. Ships."

"Shouldn't we talk to Shiro about this first? Maybe regroup and try to find Lance and Keith?" Hunk suggested.

"THERE'S NO TIME!" The Other Keith snapped. "If we wait too long, the entire ship could go up in flames!" The Other Keith turned on his heel and began to march away.

Matt ran after him and grabbed him by the arm, stopping him momentarily in his tracks. "It's a bomb, isn't it?"

He stood with his back to Matt, unable to bring himself to meet his gaze. "Gather the best fighters you can find. Our fate will be decided tonight." With that, he shook Matt's hand off and continued on his way.

After the Other Keith rounded the corner, he checked to make sure that he was out of sight. Sighing, he pressed his back against the wall and clenched his fists. He allowed his eyes to drift to his left forearm and lifted the sleeve to reveal a brand in Galran writing. His fingers brushed lightly against the scarred skin, remembering the agonizing sensation of blood boiling inside him the day he received it. The Galra called it his expiration date. After all, none of their clones lasted more than sixty days. He swallowed. He knew that today was his last. How much longer did he have, he wondered? Hours? Minutes? None of that mattered at the moment. Death did not scare him anymore. He would fight for Voltron until his dying breath.