shining like the stars

89

"Green Lion, this is Kestrel Lead. Do you copy?"

Pidge sat forward in the pilot's seat. She had scavenged some scraps from the Green Lion's hold to construct a makeshift sling for her arm, in order to keep herself from damaging it further – but she had come across a new issue having done that. "I copy, Kestrel Lead," Pidge said, acknowledging Illianya's hail. She rested her right hand on the flight control. "Negative for flight at the moment, however I might have a work around here shortly." She could see the expanse of starfield past the opening of the launch bay, and the Green Lion sat primed and ready to go ... the problem being that she was down to only one operable limb and the Lion was a dual-control rig.

"Is the Lion damaged?" A starfighter shot by the opening of the launch bay, solo, and in the very far distance Pidge could see a faint spatter of artillery fire that spoke of what the others were currently keeping busy. Illianya's voice didn't sound worried, and Pidge leaned to her left, twisting so that she could reach one of the controls on that side with her right arm.

"Green's fine," she said. "I'm just having some-" she jammed her wounded shoulder into the back of the seat as she twisted and inhaled sharply in pain. "Technical difficulties," she finished through gritted teeth. Maybe she could reroute the control rig for the cockpit to be entirely through the right flight control and foot pedals. Maybe.

"The path to the Castle of Lions is clear for the moment," Illianya said, "but it won't remain that way for long, once the rest of the fleet arrives. It would be in your best interests to move quickly."

"Yeah," Pidge said as she brought up the diagnostic menu. It was completely in Altean. She made a face at it, and flipped through to another menu. "I figured."

#

Keith hit the tile floor hard, landing flat on his back and knocking the wind clear out of him. He wheezed, trying to suck oxygen back into his lungs and still dazzled by the white flash of light that had nearly blinded him. It took a moment for him to process; to realize that his hand wasn't curled into sand, that the dome was no longer above his head – that he was no longer in the Altean gladiator arena at all but in the training room in the Castle of Lions. He rolled himself into a sitting position at the protest of aching muscles and looked to his right, where Lance lay sprawled face-down on the floor, one arm flung out and his head turned away from Keith.

Fuck.

Keith scrambled over and grabbed Lance by the shoulder, rolling him roughly onto his back. The black tee shirt he had been wearing was rucked up over his belly, but his brown skin was unmarred. Keith could still feel the way the blade of his bayard sunk into Lance's flesh and it made him sick to his stomach. "Lance," he said, desperate, and put one hand on Lance's face, turning it. He wasn't waking up, why wasn't he waking up?

"Get your hands off him!"

Keith looked up, his chest heaving, just as Rian pushed himself off the floor. The Altean was breathing laboriously, and the marks on his cheeks were glowing a faint green. "Don't touch him," Rian spat and staggered upright. Keith looked away from him, his attention drawn back down to Lance. Lance was breathing, but he wasn't responding at all; not to the touch of Keith's hand on his face or the pressure of Keith's other hand on his shoulder.

"Lance," Keith said again, the panic curdling in his belly. "Lance, don't do this, I didn't mean-" he didn't even get to finish his thought before Rian hit him.

The blow was off-balance and not hard enough to do any real damage, to do anything other than stun him. Keith's hand flew to his temple and he rocked back on his knees as Rian loomed over him and Lance both. "How can you even think to call yourself a Paladin," Rian hissed, his hands curled tight into fists. "When you can do that to someone you call an ally?"