See Part 0 for the Disclaimer and related information
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Year 3239
Break-Out
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Coran’s whole body stiffens. “Everybody -- defensive stations. Drules approaching.”
Amidst all the scrambling, a strident, outraged female voice can be heard. “I thought they promised us that we would be left alone...”
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Lotor frowns. //This isn’t right. There’s usually a lot of activity, this early at right...//
Keith’s eyes the room around them warily, settling into a defensive crouch. //I don’t like this.//
Lance nods and mirrors him.
Lotor snorts. //You’re here to get them out --//
Suddenly, lights snap on, blindingly. A rain of arrows descends on them.
Images of Keith bloody and dying slam into Lance. Snarling, he knocks Lotor out of the line of fire, as Keith moves the other way, eyes shut, drawing the hail of arrows after him. *Bloody hell. Why can’t anything be _simple_... Why is my Gift prodding me now? I sodding well _know_ what’ll happen if Lotor’s killed...*
Hearing the sound of tearing cloth, Lance growls. *Enough.* Shedding the concealing robes, he stands up, hand shielding his eyes.
The arrows stop.
//Who are you?// The calm voice echoes down to them.
Lotor rolls his eyes in disgust, not moving from his sprawl on the ground. *I’m spending an inordinate amount of time on the floor because of these two...* “Coran -- they’re _Alliance_ .” *Idiots.* “Have you all gone completely blind?”
Lance twitches. *He didn’t tell us he knew Basic...*
In the shadows, Keith’s eyes narrow suspiciously, before refocusing on the source of the arrows.
The lights dim to something more reasonable.
“They _looked_ like Drules. They move like Drules. And where’s the other one?”
Lance sighs. “He’s around. He thinks you might still shoot at us, so he’s not going to show himself. You want to get out of here?” Wincing, Lance manages to shove away more images of Keith dying. *Damnit. Not now.*
“You sound like you’re from the Alliance...” A tall, limping figure approaches them. “You really can get us out of here?”
“Yes. I’m just sorry it took us so long.”
Looking him over closely, the other man nods. “What are you doing with Lotor?”
Snorting, Lotor heaves himself slowly to his feet, keeping his hands well away from his weapons. “I’m joining the Alliance.”
Coran gapes at Lotor. “You’re doing _what_?”
“I’m joining the Alliance. Apparently, it’s my fate. And I never fight fate.”
Lance scowls at his feet. *Unlike some people...* Softening, he feels comfort pulse through the link, that, just for a moment, drowns out the images.
Coran shakes his head. “Right... I guess it’s safe for the rest of you to come out, now...”
“Well, it’s about time.”
Keith’s eyes widen as his danger-sense starts screaming at him. *Oh, shit.*
“What took you so long to come for us, hmm?”
Lance eyes the rotund woman advancing on him with something like horror. *Crap. Definately _Keith’s_ responsibility...* Backing slowly away, he’s just aware that Lotor is backing away as well.
Keith manages to step into the breach. Sort of. “Ma’am, we didn’t realize you were here until recently.”
“Humph. Well then. How exactly do you plan to get us out?”
Coran is watching all of this in bemusement. *I’m glad to know that Nanny has that effect on everybody, not just those of us who were captured...*
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Finally, after several nerve-wracking moments, almost everyone is in place.
Lotor eyes the two warriors carefully. *They’re arguing... Which is not right for them... I seem to be an issue of contention...*
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In a little-used dialect of Basic, Lance snarls at Keith. ~You still don’t trust him. You need to trust him!~
Keith tenses. ~Of course I don’t! He knows Basic, and he didn’t tell us. What else is he hiding?~
~He’s been fighting in the Arena for years! It only makes sense that he’d pick up something...~
~And if he has such a good relationship with them, why didn’t he break them out sooner?~
~Because he’s part _Drule_ maybe? Because it was the Alliance’s responsibility, not his? Because he didn’t know how to circumvent the shields? Keith -- you’re not being _logical_~
Sighing, Keith leans his head against Lance’s. ~I know, I know. But my gut _still_ doesn’t trust him, even though my head has lots of arguments for it. And... I almost never follow my head over my heart.~ Memories flow down their link -- of Keith deciding, against his experience, to give Lance a chance when they first met...
Swallowing, Lance wraps his arms around Keith. *We’re running out of time to argue. And it’s not like either of us are going to change our minds... I _can’t_ and Keith _won’t_.* Lance tries one last time. ~You just take care of yourself. And Lotor’s on your ship so you can learn to trust him more, not because you have a slightly better chance against him hand-to-hand.~
Shrugging, Keith doesn’t look at Lance. ~It all works out, anyway.~
Lance gives up for now. *Stubborn...*
The two of them bask in each other’s presence for a few more moments before separating.
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The two modified fighters make their way cautiously through Drule space. Unfortunately, not unscathed.
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Throwing himself out of his fighter, Keith meets Lance before he manages to do more than stumble out of his. Gripping Lance’s arm, Keith hustles him off to a corner. Politely, the former prisoners and Lotor settle down as far away from the pair as they can. However, space is tight enough that they can’t avoid hearing the voices, even with their backs politely turned...
~What’s going _on_ with you?~ Keith glares at Lance in worry. ~You’ve never been so distracted...~
Snarling, Lance grabs Keith’s shoulders and shakes him. ~My Gift keeps showing me images of you _dying_. I am not ever going get used to seeing _that_. And I’m seeing it all the fucking time!~
Swallowing, Keith doesn’t try to defend himself. ~Because I still don’t trust Lotor.~
~And it’s getting fucking worse. What the hell is going on in your fighter?~
Keith hunches his shoulders. ~Lotor isn’t an idiot. He knows I’m uncomfortable...~
~Argh! So the _fucker_ is pulling back. God_damn_it.~ Lance slumps into Keith’s arms.
~I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. Lance, it takes me _years_ to trust someone.~
Closing his eyes, Lance holds Keith tight, breathing in the scent of him, relaxing just a bit. *Alive and well, he’s alive and well* ~I don’t have years. I’m already losing it. If you don’t straighten things out with him...~
Keith tightens his arms. ~I’ll try harder.~
Sinking into an entwined ball against the wall, the two of them concentrate solely on each other, for small piece of time forgetting about their responsibilities.
Lotor, frowning to himself, regards his feet. *Hells. I’m apparently _still_ causing problems between them. And this Lance doesn’t seem to be at top shape, or so his Keith thinks.* Sighing, Lotor nods his head in resolution. *Obviously, I’m still intruding. Maybe this odd link I feel with his Keith is interfering with their bond somehow. I’d better pull back more. I want them _both_ to be in top shape to get us out of here...*
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*Damnit. What the _hell_ is going on? Three fucking years isn’t that long of a time... Why the _fuck_ are there so many shenning patrols now?* Muttering to himself, Lance tries to focus on the battle, ignoring the flickering images of blood and death and Keith. *Shit. Shit. SHIT.* Pulling on his bond, he feels a start of surprise from Keith, and then a warm welcome.
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*Hells. He’s distracted. Still. Damnit. Why can’t I just _trust_ Lotor?* Snarling, Keith throws himself into the battle, sending the joy down their link, hoping to block out more of the images.
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*Right. We’ve got to destroy all of --* Mouth clamping down on a scream of agony, Lance’s Gift decides that _now_ is the perfect time for an overwhelming image. Freezing in place, unable to hear or see or react in any way to the present, Lance fights his Gift for control of his body.
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*Lance!* Keith, terrified at the utter stillness from the link, forces himself out, across the bond that ties their souls together, and takes control of Lance’s body. Not quite in time. Bright pain flares down the link; a control panel has blown, sending shards slamming into Lance. *No! I got .. to .. hold on.. Not letting him go...* In terror, Keith concentrates, pushing his Warrior’s Gift into Lance’s body, hoping the automatic reactions of being in battle can keep Lance going.
For one horrible moment, he can’t quite control either body -- his or Lance’s -- and their ships lurch with the damage the Drule fighters are suddenly able to inflict. The only reason they aren’t shattered into pieces is the Drules pull back, thinking that they’re about to fall into a trap. The pause in the battle gives Keith the crucial moments he needs.
Something snaps into place, and Keith feels his Warrior’s Gift expand, and take control. Relieved, he lets his reflexes control both bodies, as he hunts down his bondmate.
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*Keith? What are you doing here?* Startled, Lance is pulled out of the images of emptiness by the worry from his lover.
*You left in the middle of a friggin’ battle! You think I’d let you die?* Confusion and fury and fear slam into Lance.
Desperation and determination are flung back at Keith in response. *No! If you believe that, why are you so willing to think _I’d_ let you die?*
*But--* Doubt and guilt.
Pure stubborn will overpowers Keith’s resistance. *You’re here, closer than you’ve ever been before. I don’t understand how, but I’m going to show you, once and for all...*
Keith’s psyche stiffens as Lance’s Gift reaches out and takes him over, images crashing down on him, certainty filling him.
Just as Lance suddenly finds himself in possession of two bodies, Keith’s Warrior Gift singing through him.
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Lost in his head, Keith can feel Lance’s Gift surging through him, sweeping up and augmenting his own small Gift of Sixth Sense. Images pour through him, filling him with certainty, with knowledge. _This_ is what can happen. _This_ is what will happen. If so, then thus, if the other, then another... Images stretch out before him in an infinite array. And with every image that is filled with joy, the deep green-cool essence of Lotor is entwined with their own. *This is why Lance is so sure about Lotor...*
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Startled, Lance just barely keeps from disrupting Keith’s Gift. For a moment, he just hovers, amazed, as their bodies deftly pilot the aircraft. Then, the battle joy takes him, and Keith’s Warrior Gift claims him. Colors are sharper, movement is slower, thoughts are clearer than he’s ever experienced before. And in the back of his mind, continuous complex calculations are worked out, concerning the ememy craft and their weapons and movements and their craft and weapons and movements. Shades of prior battles, similarities in fighting styles -- all of this hovers in the background, incorporated into the equations that are solved in a fraction of a second leading to their fighters moving _just_ so... *And I thought I knew what joy in battle felt like before...*
Slowly, as the newness wears off, Lance realizes just how badly damanged his body is. *Kami! I ought to be _dead_ by now...* Startled, he traces the interlockings of the Warrior’s Gift and his own body. *No wonder Keith can just keep going when anyone else would be crumpled on the floor...*
Focusing tighter, knowing his time is running out even with the help of their Warrior Gift, Lance speeds up the pace of the battle and scans for the nearest bolthole.
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Braced in place, Lotor watches the cockpit in puzzlement. *Something happened. Something _big_. I don’t understand it. One moment, I’m sure we’re toast, the next, I’m just as sure that we’re going to live for a long, long time...* Shaking his head, he relaxes back down. *Maybe it’ll all be clear when the battle’s over...*
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Another bolt hole. This time, as soon as the ships touch ground, Keith flings himself out and disappears into Lance’s fighter. Emerging with a bloody, too-still figure, he carefully approaches Lotor, pleading and faith in his eyes.
Swallowing hard, Lotor nods. *I’ll do my best.*
Carefully placing his hands on the body, Lotor shuts his eyes and tries to concentrate. *Damnit. I don’t know what I’m doing --*
Abruptly, he feels something gently touch his shields. Surprised, without thinking, he gives way -- and suddenly, he’s bathed in the link that ties Lance and Keith together. Part of them now. For a moment, he does nothing, basking in the sheer force of emotion. Then, an impatient nudge pushes the knowledge of how their bodies are _supposed_ to work into him. *I got it...* Eyes wide and unseeing, Lotor heals someone else for the first time.
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Waking up slowly, Lance shakes his head in puzzlement. *No images...* Opening his eyes, he barely manages to control his surprise.
Keith grins at him, cradled as he is in Lotor’s arms. Reaching out gently, he brushes Lance’s cheek. Lotor’s grip tightens slightly, and then he’s gently eased off, finding himself in a hug with Keith.
“We’re all straightened out now, Lancer. You ready to go home?”
Sinking inside, Lance touches their bond, even stronger than before, tracing the tendrils that grow out to embed themselves in the Healer behind him. “Yeah... we’re all set.”
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