Lifeline
chapter one

Keith's eyes shoot open.

He can feel his heart hammering in his chest, going so fast that it feels like his chest might split open.

His hands are clenched into fists at his side, not meant to throw a punch, but instead mimicking his grip on the controls of a Galra ship. There's sweat on his forehead, and his shirt is clinging to his skin.

"A dream," Keith says, sitting up and drawing his knees up to his chest. "A nightmare."

It has to be. Has to be.

Because the last thing he remembers… the last thing he remembers—

A clipped wing. The distant voices of his teammates through the comms. Matt and Lance and Hunk and—Shiro's voice, of course, sounding strained, and…

…he leans forward as the ship picks up speed. There's no time to think, but Keith has never bothered much with thinking, anyway.

This is the only option. The rebel ships can do nothing. Voltron is too far. Keith is the only one who can make a difference; if he doesn't act, then everything he's been fighting for will fall.

The ship shudders a little, but Keith pushes it, faster, further, gunning for the barrier.

Keith squeezes his eyes shut and counts down from ten. There's a blanket over his legs and a knife under his pillow and this, this is real, and dying is not.

His breathing evens out after a bit. There's things to live for, after all.

Keith strips his shirt off, making a face at the resistance it gives. It doesn't take long for him to get dressed in the thin black suit and then the armor that follows.

There's the echoing of footsteps from down the hall. It sounds awfully familiar, but Keith ignores it in favor of studying himself in the mirror on the wall.

A moment later, Kolivan is standing at the door.

"Keith."

He fits on the last of his armor but keeps his hood down. There's no need for it.

"You need me?"

Kolivan inclines his head. "I am about to speak to Team Voltron. I think you should join me."

Keith nods. "Got it."

They make their way to the bridge. It's not unlike the Castle's, but it is smaller, with only standing positions at the controls. Keith crosses to the front, and Kolivan pulls up the comms channel.

They patch through to Voltron.

Compared to the Blade's ship, the Castle is brighter, and past them, Keith catches a glimpse of orange sky. Shiro and Allura, as expected, as standing in the front. Between them is a map of the system, one that Keith has long since had memorized.

"Entire Galra fleets have been mobilized," Kolivan says. "Zarkon seems to be out looking for Lotor."

Keith grits his teeth at the mention of Lotor, but he keeps quiet.

"It's only a matter of time before he gets the Empire back in order," Shiro says. His face is grim and determined. Keith likes the look; it means he has a plan. "We need to take advantage of this moment."

Allura's mouth is set in a frown.

"What are you getting at, Shiro?"

A dream—memory—flashes through Keith's mind.

"The coalition," he says without thinking. "Naxzela."

Shiro meets his gaze, approving. "Keith's right. We need to assemble the coalition we've been building. With intelligence gathered by the Blades-" Here, Shiro inclines his head toward Kolivan in a show of thanks. "-and coalition observers, combined with the power of Pidge's Galra tracking software, we've put together a detailed map of the Galra Empire."

It spins into view, purple and blue planets dancing in the air.

Keith bites the inside of his cheek. He's been here before, has seen this map before. It's like there's something he's missing, a piece of a puzzle dangling just out of reach. Like he knows a passcode but not the last number, but he needs to unlock this—whatever it is.

Shiro's gone through the first part of the plan already, but it doesn't matter. Keith has a feeling he already knows it.

Dream, dream, he chants in his mind. Dream, dream, dream. Not real.

"If this works… the Voltron Coalition will have taken back a third of the Galra Empire's territory. It would be a huge victory."

"And inspire a new wave of rebellions."

Shiro crosses his arms. "There's no time to waste."

The fight would be crucial—a critical blow against Zarkon. Keith scours his mind, trying to see if he can fit enough pieces together to find an outcome.

There's nothing. Cold settles in his stomach. Nothing after that burning light brighter than the sun and quiet and jolting awake in his quarters, sweat on his skin and a scream on his tongue. He doesn't know if it will work or not, but… he does know he could trust Shiro.

That has to be enough.

On the other end of the channel, Shiro turns to face the team.

"Suit up," he orders.

Kolivan turns and begins barking orders of his own. Anju's already set course for their coordinates. Keith spots Inek weaving through the Blades, her shorter stature and barbed tail making her easy to identify.

Keith already knows his role. He'll be with Kolivan and a few others to infiltrate the cannon. He's needed there.

"Are you prepared?"

Keith blinks. Kolivan looms over him, a figure intimidating to most.

"You seem distracted," Kolivan offers when Keith doesn't respond. "The mission we are about to undertake is an important one. You need to focus."

This—this conversation he doesn't remember. Keith sucks in a long breath and tries to clear his mind.

It doesn't matter if he's done this before or if he's dreamed the way the day would go or, hell, if he's woken up in a different reality. In every situation, he needs to be on top of his game.

Focus, Keith thinks. Patience yields focus.

It's enough. Keith nods. "Don't worry about me. I've got this."

"Worry," Kolivan says, like he doesn't know the word. He's already turned away. "Keep the comms channel open."

On Voltron's side, the others are getting ready. Shiro is ready in less than a minute; when he catches Keith looking, the corners of his lips lift up. He lifts his hand like he wants to touch Keith's shoulder but settles with a wave.

Keith swallows and waves back. He can't get the sound of Shiro's voice in his mind, can't escape the feeling that they're walking into a trap.

He opens his mouth to say something and then shuts it again. He can't run on feelings alone, not right now, and—well, Shiro might not listen to him, anyway.

Behind him, Lance and Allura are talking quietly together. There's a smile on Lance's face that Keith hasn't seen in a while. He glances over, and his grin grows wider before he turns back to Allura.

Pidge, Matt, and Hunk are gathered around a laptop. Probably discussing the Galra-tracking tech. As he watches, Shiro crosses over, putting a hand on Hunk's shoulder casually as he leans in and speaks to them. Pidge adjusts her glasses and nods, and Shiro uses his other hand to ruffle her hair.

Keith is suddenly hit with a pang of loneliness.

The scene is a familiar one. He's seen it before, has lived it before. Keith glances down at his Blade suit, and his mouth turns sour with the memory that he no longer belongs there, with them.

"It's time to gather the coalition," Shiro says, straightening and crossing back to the map. "We need our friends and allies from across the universe now more than ever. With their help, we finally have a chance to turn the tides of this war."

This is it, Keith thinks.

"We've been waiting for this moment, and now we are more prepared than we've ever been."

Allura's eyes blaze with the light of a thousand suns. "Let's do this."

Keith falls in step behind Kolivan as the screen blinks out. It's replaced with a map, and the Blades begin to speak in low voices together about strategies and their own roles in the upcoming fight.

Keith follows Kolivan and a few other Blades to their mission ship. They're about three times larger than the pods in the Castle, better suited for missions but still small enough to escape notice if they're careful.

"The broadcast will be starting soon," Anju reports, already at the controls. "Setting coordinates now."

"Power to the thrusters," someone says.

"Ready to fly."

"Go," Kolivan says, and they take off without fanfare. Keith stands shoulder-to-shoulder with another Blade, the two of them gripping a bar as they stand in line. They'll be dropped not too far from the cannon's base before they cut through the brush to ambush it.

"Broadcast is live."

Kolivan nods. "Play it."

Allura appears on the screen. It strikes Keith then, how much her presence resonates. He feels like she's in front of him, staring at them. Her eyes are sharp, her chin lifted in pride. Regal, commanding, and the face of a revolution.

"Fellow members of the Voltron Coalition," she says, and he feels the words in his chest. "If you are hearing me now, it is because you have pledged to stand together with Voltron in the fight against Zarkon and his enslavement of the free peoples of the universe.

"But that enslavement is about to be dealt a crushing blow. The time for a full-scale attack on the Galra Empire is now. Far in the future, when they speak of this day, they will speak of our sacrifice, but they will also remember this as the day that freedom began to overtake tyranny.

"You all have your missions."

Keith lets his mask cover his face.

"We're approaching," Inek says.

"You know what to do." Allura's gaze bores into him. "Good luck. We'll see you on the other side."

The other side, Keith mouths to himself, pouring over the words, but then the doors open. Wind ripples into the ship, buffeting at their suits.

One by one, they drop into the open sky. Far below them, grasses and trees wave like they're waiting for him.

The Blade next to him leaps. Keith blinks, and then there's only four Blades left on the ship—Anju and Inek to pilot, Kolivan, and him. He can feel Kolivan's gaze on him even through the mask.

Then he lets go of the bar and falls.

It's kind of exhilarating, the fall. There's a split second where he feels weightless, the blood in his veins singing. And then Keith curls in on himself, the ground racing up towards him.

He rolls when he hits the ground, carrying his momentum into a run. Shadowy figures dart through the trees, one moment there, the next gone. This is the way of the Blade—never seen, never heard, deadly and efficient in their every move.

The cannon is perched on the edge of a cliff. From far away, Keith spots guard after guard standing in protection.

The comms crackle.

"Blades!" Captain Olia cries. "We're in trouble! What's the status of your cannon? Blades!"

Keith darts through the trees, lungs burning.

"Copy, Olia," he says, voice muffled by the mask. "We're en route. Hold on for just a little longer."

Up ahead, the Blades are breaking through the trees. Keith leaps over a gnarled root and finds himself out in the open again, the cannon looming over their heads.

It's massive, as big as one of the Blade's main ships, and Keith knows from sight that it can take out a fleet in minutes.

They scale the cliff easily. Keith is one of the last to reach it; he grits his teeth and throws himself upward, the claws in his suit extending and gripping onto the cliffside easily.

A rock crumbles under his hand. Keith keeps quiet like he's been taught and finds another hold, sweat already making itself known on the back of his neck.

There's a hand in front of his face—Keith looks up and sees one of the Blades waiting.

"Thanks," he says softly, gripping it. The Blade only nods as he's pulled up, and then they split up, surrounding the base.

The sentries guarding the base are fast. Keith is faster.

He pulls his knife from its sheath and cuts clean through a sentry before it can react. Keith tosses his knife and then catches it to drive home in the other sentry's back.

He's first up the steps leading to the cannon. Footsteps follow his as they keep going.

Short blasts of gunfire ring in the air, and then there's silence. Keith grins to himself.

Inside, there's a captain surrounded by guards, his voice bellowing orders. He's not even done when Keith rams into a guard.

He trusts the others to get the job done and guns for the controls, vaulting over a sentry's head as a blade takes it out. There's the sound of falling metal as he reaches the controls, gripping it tight.

Keith drops his mask, mouth curling into a victorious smile. "Now let's see how this thing works."

"The Zenfama Saiforge cannon is ours!" Coran announces. "Naxzela attack is underway."

Keith wastes no time. Kolivan sets in a target, and he lines up his shot, watching numbers and figures dance across the screen. He can't fully understand Galran yet, but he knows enough.

"Olia, come in," Kolivan says. There's no response. "Captain Olia."

"We can't take this fire for long!" Olia yells. "Blades, we need your help."

"We got your back," Keith reports. He reads as much as he understands, makes the necessary calculations, and then takes a deep breath in through his nose.

"Patience," he murmurs. "Patience yields focus."

There's snatches of panicked conversation over the comms. Now is the time to attack.

"Fire."

"This one's for you, Lance," he mutters, and then he fires.

The beam tears through the sky, bright purple as it rips past clouds and into space like a backwards-comet. Keith's heart is racing in his chest as he watches it disappear.

"Shields down, Captain!"

"Alright, let's get control of that cannon!"

"Get ready," Kolivan warns.

"I am," Keith says.

"Zaiforge Cannon Base is ours!"

"Ready to provide the Taujeerans with cover," Keith says, gearing up for his next shot.

"Cannon acquired. Ready to provide backup."

"Copy that. Coalition, you're clear to begin."

He's not there with the fight, but Keith doesn't need to be. It's in him, fire through his veins and water in his lungs.

Aim. Lock. Fire.

Aim. Lock. Fire.

Ships fall under the force of the cannons, torn apart by their strength.

"We're doing it," someone reports.

Aim. Lock. Fire.

Aim. Lock. Fire.

"We've almost taken the entire area!"

"Communication is back online," a voice warns. Coran repeats the words a moment later, but it's Shiro who replies.

"Doesn't matter. We've just about taken Naxzela."

The planet's name sends a chill down Keith's spine. He has a feeling it's not as easy as it seems to be. There's something else at play here, and Keith knows it, but he can't remember what.

"It appears at all of the planets we've engaged have been pacified, if not totally liberated."

"Good," Kolivan says sharply.

"Wait. There's another Galra battle cruiser approaching Naxzela."

He can see it.

He can see it in his mind's eye, the shape of it, the cannons, every detail down to the shield that surrounds its hull.

Keith's eyes widen.

The shield.

—heading for the barrier, his ship painted with reddish-purple light that washes over him—

"Sector Zar Niomfor is clear. Let me see if I can get a line on that battle cruiser."

Keith's already let go of the controls, turning towards the exit. There's no time to explain.

"It's not gonna work," he says breathlessly, pushing past his fellow Blades. "Matt, it's not going to—"

Matt cries out over the comms, a noise of surprise that makes Keith stumble.

"Zaiforge cannon Senfama, are you still operational?"

Keith tears out of the base as the entire cannon powers down, the lights going out. An alarm begins to sound.

"Negative." The word falls from his mouth.

"That incoming battle cruiser must have shut them down remotely!"

And then, after this—

"Shiro," he calls. "Shiro, do you copy?"

"No artillery support?"

"Yeah," he says. "But—"

Matt cuts in. "What should we do about that cruiser?"

"The cruiser doesn't matter. It's going to be too late. We've almost secured Naxzela."

Keith's feet have guided him to a Galra ship. He leaps in and takes off without thinking, tearing through the sky. Orders be damned, the Blades be damned—he needs to get to Shiro.

"Shiro," he gasps. "Listen to me."

"Is something wrong?"

"Get off Naxzela!"

"We can't. We just need to take out the last of the heavy artillery, and it's ours… Keith, where is this coming from?"

"Please, Shiro," Keith says. "Naxzela's a trap. You have to get off."

"Oh, quit being paranoid," Pidge snaps.

"I'm not—"

He bites his tongue. They're not listening to him. They're not listening to him.

Keith pushes the ship harder, burning through the atmosphere as he wheels around to face Naxzela.

Something is about to happen.

He can't stop it.

The feeling of foreboding grows stronger as the team continues. Pillars, he thinks, or generators, something like that rising up on the planet's surface.

"I say we get outta here," Lance says, his voice carrying over the comms. "Pidge, plot a course for our escape."

"I agree with Lance," Keith chimes in. "For once. You have to get off Naxzela."

"Hey, look at that. Keith agrees. Let's go."

"Hold on."

And then there's a collective cry from the team. Purple light inches across the planet, covering it. No.

He has to take out the cruiser. If he can take it out, none of his dream will play out like he remembers.

Except, a dark part of him whispers, curling at the edge of his mind. Except you will die.

"No, I won't," Keith says. "Not this time."

And he sets course for the cruiser and flies.

"Captain Olia, Matt, Rolo, do you copy?"

"We hear you. What's up?"

"I need backup," Keith says. "We have to take out that battle cruiser somehow. It's messing with Naxzela."

"Team Voltron, you there?"

"Their comms are down. Keith, what's your plan?"

"Uh, don't have one. You think you can get the cannon back online somehow?"

"Probably," Matt says, and Keith feels hope blossom in his chest. "But it'll take too long. If I had Pidge here, it'd be faster, but working by myself, I can only get so far."

"Dammit. Coran!"

"Here, Keith."

"You think you could give us a hand with this shield?"

"I'm afraid I can't, Number Four. I'm on the other side of the galaxy, and I don't have enough of Allura's energy left to work the teleduv. And—oh, that Galra fleet heading towards Naxzela stopped."

"Stopped?"

"Quite a distance away, too."

"Perhaps the Galra decided it's too well-fortified to attack."

"No." The word comes out harsher than he intends. "Victory or death. The Galra accept nothing else. I need your help. The only thing left to do is attack the fleet."

A beat. Keith held his breath. "We're with you."

"Stay where you are, Coran. We might need you there."

The role of leader—of Black Paladin—comes back to Keith easily. He streaks towards the cruiser, rebel ships falling in formation behind him.

"Ready," he says in a low voice. "Follow my lead. We'll need to fire at once—hopefully it'll be enough to break through."

"Copy that."

"All other members of the coalition should get out," Keith orders. "They're not safe. Coran, if you can help—"

"I'm on it, Keith."

"Keith, can you hear me?"

His heart leaps in his throat. "Shiro!"

"We need to stop Haggar."

"Way ahead of you," Keith says as they line up together in front of the barrier. "We could really use your help if you can get here. Hey—you guys ready?"

"Just say the word."

Keith powers up his ship's blasters as strong as it'll go. "Fire!"

Ten beams slam into the cruisers' shield at once, but Keith already knows it's not enough. "Keep it up!"

Allura's voice is weaving in and out of his ears, commanding but frantic.

"Keith, it's not working," Matt growls.

"I know. I know." I know.

"We're not going to make it," Hunk yells.

Enemy fire clips his ship's left wing, and he dips.

Keith knows what has to happen next. Knows, because there's no other option left; knows, because he's seen this; knows, because the surety of it is rooted in his very bones.

This time, he says, "It's been an honor flying with you guys."

"Keith?" The rebel ships disappear out of sight as he dives. "Keith, what the hell are you doing?"

It's like this again.

Keith feels like he's trapped in a dream, a bit like he's floating in between realities.

Red light falls over his ship. Keith leans forward, forcing his ship to go faster, further, gunning for his target. The ship shudders, like it knows, too, and Keith thinks, this is how it ends.

He closes his eyes, and the light swallows him whole.