Chapter Text
“Comms test,” Pidge’s voice came over the earpiece in Shiro’s ear.
“We hear you, Green,” Shiro replied, using the soldier’s callsign. They weren’t officially on the mission yet, but he was trying to set a good example for the other soldiers. If Shiro didn’t use the callsigns, nobody would; though Pidge claimed his tech to be hack-proof, Shiro didn’t want to risk the enemy breaking into their channels and finding out confidential information.
“Castleship is nearly in position,” Coran reported over comms. “Are you all ready to drop?”
“I’m on my way now,” Shiro answered. He ducked around a corner and entered the room. His soldiers were gathered there, all in various forms of readiness. Lance leaned against the wall, his rifles on the ground beside him, looking for all the world like he wasn’t about to rush into a dangerous combat mission. Hunk looked like he was about to spontaneously combust from nerves, despite the fact that he and Pidge had the least dangerous parts. Shiro didn’t want to put his tech and mechanic people into more danger than they had to be before he thought they were ready. Pidge had pulled up his holoscreen and was scrolling through, likely going over the mission details one more time. Romelle was standing beside Lance, though her sniper rifle was slung over her shoulder. Shay was on the bridge, helping Allura and Coran pilot. If the other two needed to offer support with their battle tank, Shay would be the sole pilot of the ship.
The person Shiro was looking for was standing by the bay doors, taut as a bowstring. Keith was checking his knives, ensuring they were all in their places. His black-and-red tactical gear complimented him nicely; all black with trails of red highlighting the hard planes and angles of his body.
He had a small knife strapped to his left bicep, and longer knives at his thighs. He likely had a few more blades concealed in his boots and sleeves. A pair of thick metal rods were slung over his back in an X shape, and he had a pair of short, thick knives at his hips. Shiro knew from experience that those knives in particular could expand into full-length katanas. He had a pistol strapped to his lower thigh, beneath one of his blades, but Shiro knew he likely wouldn’t use it; Keith didn’t like guns much.
Shiro nudged his arm, and after a moment Keith nudged him back. Shiro turned to address his soldiers.
“Listen up, team.” At his words, everyone straightened and snapped to attention. Shiro continued. “The previous Voltron Force were legends. They saved countless people and went on hundreds of combat and stealth ops. This is our first mission, but that doesn’t mean we should expect it to be easy. There is a Galra base nearby, where they store weapons and supplies. It is occupied by about four or five squadrons, but if we take the base it will strike a blow to terrorists in the surrounding area.” He met each soldier’s eye, one by one. “You all have your assignments. Let’s go become legends.”
Keith crouched down, eyes scanning the area in front of him. It was a maze of crates and metal boxes, all containing supplies. Shiro and Pidge were somewhere to their left, making their way through the maze to the building, where Pidge would wire his tech into the electrical system to take out the electricity. Keith and Hunk were heading for the other side to do the same; it was such a large building that there needed to be two people working on cutting the electricity. Lights, power, and most importantly, distress signals, would all be down. After that, they had roughly fifteen minutes to set charges, take out any resistance, and get the hell out before the backup generators kicked in or before the place lit up.
His breathing was slow and focused, his senses alert. Keith’s hands brushed against some of his knives, ready to grab them at a moment’s notice.
Behind him, Hunk was silent, looking like he might be sick. Keith felt a little sympathetic; the poor guy had never been in actual combat before, just training simulations. Keith’s job was to protect Hunk so he wouldn’t have to fight, but things could very easily go wrong on missions.
If only their support was a little more competent. Keith wasn’t sure where their snipers were situated; he knew Romelle and Lance were somewhere nearby, with a good vantage point so as to see into the maze below, though he didn’t know exactly where. There were quite a few tall trees that would make excellent sniper’s perches.
It wasn’t Romelle that Keith had a huge problem with. She was bubbly and a little annoying, sure, but she knew how to buckle down and focus when it was time. Lance…did not.
Even now, Keith could hear him babbling away in his ear, as if they weren’t on a deadly mission where one mistake could end up in someone getting hurt…or worse. Keith was trying to tune him out, but he was not being very successful.
Trying to ignore the incessant chatter, Keith crept forward, silent on his feet, hands on his blade hilts. Hunk’s footsteps scuffed softly, and Keith cringed internally; it was painfully obvious that the other soldier had never trained as an assassin.
Keith turned a corner and nearly ran into the barrel of a gun. The Galra soldier looked nearly as surprised as Keith was, but Keith got over it quicker. He whipped out his batons, cracking one across the enemy soldier’s face and following up by slamming the other into his solar plexus.
The soldier crumpled, wheezing as his breath was knocked from his lungs, and his companion turned. Keith’s thrown knife lodged into his throat, and he went down without a sound. The first man tried to stand and reach for his gun, but Keith cracked his baton over the soldier’s head and he collapsed. He didn’t rise again.
“Damn it, why didn’t you tell me there were hostiles?” Keith whisper-shouted into the comms. Of course Lance would be too distracted to actually do his goddamn job.
“I did!” Lance’s voice sounded just as pissed off as Keith felt. “You weren’t listening to me!”
“Maybe I would if you weren’t such a-”
“Guys,” Hunk interjected. “Can we do this later? Like, when we’re not in the middle of a stealth mission?”
“Gold’s right,” Shiro said. His voice was level, but Keith could tell he was tense. “Save it for after the op. And Lance, you really need to focus.”
“Sorry, Black.” Lance huffed.
Keith continued to creep between the crates, his anger and annoyance simmering below the surface. Leave it to Lance to mess up their entire op.
They were met with little resistance on their way to the control panel. When they reached it, Hunk reached into his pack for his supplies.
“We’re at the goal,” he murmured over comms as he began to open the control panel.
“Affirmative, Gold,” Lance said lazily. “I’ve got you covered.” Somehow, Keith wasn’t very assured.
Keith turned his back to Hunk, scanning the area. He was the mechanic’s only defense, and enemies could come in from all sides.
A small squad of four came around the corner, pausing in shock when they saw Keith and Hunk. Keith pulled his hood over his head, unsheathing the knives in his sleeves with a flick of his wrists. The hood had small weights in the hem, keeping it from falling off even as Keith began to move. He whirled, sending blades flying in flashes of silver. Two soldiers went down, hilts protruding from their chests, and the other two raised their guns.
Keith sprinted for them, pulling out a baton. He threw it; the metal rod slammed into one soldier’s head with a heavy thunk, and he collapsed. The other turned to his companion, and Keith took him down with a deep slice to his carotid artery.
Two more soldiers appeared, and Keith ducked back to avoid the bullets whizzing past his small frame.
He rolled behind a crate, leaping out on the other side to throw another pair of knives. The soldiers slumped to the ground.
Keith retrieved his blades, wiping them clean on his gear before sliding them into their places.
“Thanks for the help, sharpshooter,” Keith grumbled. Lance hadn’t lent a hand once during that entire encounter.
“I was waiting to see if the stories about you are true,” Lance said, voice crackling over the comms. He yawned. “Turns out they were over-exaggerating.”
Keith felt his anger flare, but a yelp from Hunk made him race to the other.
“Cut my hand on a wire,” Hunk explained sheepishly. “Wasn’t careful enough.”
Keith sighed and turned to take up his post again. These “soldiers” were hardly the stuff of legend. They didn’t stand a chance against what Zarkon and the Galra could-and would- throw at them.
I can’t believe I’m going to die surrounded by these people.
The soldier burst through the door. “General Sendak, sir!”
Sendak growled and turned to face the messenger. “What do you want, soldier?” His voice was sharp; he hated being interrupted while he worked.
The woman swallowed. “The base is under attack,” she reported. “By the new Voltron Force.”
The general glowered. “Are you sure it’s them?”
The soldier nodded. “Our inside source confirmed that this base would be their first mission,” she said. “And now they’re here.”
Sendak stepped away from the table, setting his knife aside. The prisoner was nearly dead now anyway; Sendak wouldn’t be getting much more out of them. “Ready the troops.” He grinned maliciously. “I think it’s time we showed them what happens to those who cross the Empire.”