Chapter Text
“Ready? Just like we practiced.”
Pidge’s hand tightens around her bayard, but she nods. Keith glances up over the bulkead they hide behind on the Galra ship. Exactly ten soldiers stand below, guarding the computer system and the locked door the Paladins need to get through.
Ten soldiers, a fifteen foot drop, and a gaping chasm that Pidge can’t jump over lie between them and their goal.
Keith lobs a small explosive at the group. He doesn’t have anything big enough to take them all out–really, it’s more like chucking a firecracker. But it rolls near the door and lets off a bang and a cloud of smoke, and it’s enough to draw all the soldiers’ attention towards it.
They spring to their feet, holstering their bayards. Pidge runs a few steps back and turns around. She pauses for a split second, then grits her teeth and takes off in a full-on sprint towards Keith.
He plants his feet and grabs her wrists and uses her momentum to spin around, building up enough force to throw her across the chasm. His heart stops the second he lets go–the way it always does, because if he messes up in the training room she could twist her ankle; if he messes up here–
But she twists in the air and crashes onto the lower deck. She rolls to her feet, ignoring the quick bite of pain in her shoulder, and draws her bayard.
The first soldier turns just in time for a sickly bright flash of green to cut across his vision.
The second has time to process the attack, and just barely opens his mouth to yell before he, too, is cut down.
Keith sprints to the edge of the deck and leaps. The chasm is just a hair too wide, and his foot slips off the edge and he teeters wildly, arms flailing. Gravity yanks on his back and pushes on his chest, no, no, no…!!
But Pidge is fast, faster than he is sometimes, and she hurls the laser-green whip and catches him around the chest and yanks. He falls hard, wincing at the electric shock, but shoves himself to his feet before even bothering to catch his breath.
A kick to a soldier’s chest, a sword to their arm. Pidge’s little green bayard flying and flashing like a deadly hummingbird. Their jumps and strikes are perfectly timed, years of Keith’s honed martial arts experience flowing and blending with Pidge’s newly-acquired skills, their teamwork developed only in the span of months and yet blending together in a harmony that would rival the masters.
Pidge backhands the last soldier with her shield, sending it flying into Keith’s sword. And they stand still for a moment, panting, sweat stinging in their eyes and dripping down their necks. A brief nod, a fistbump without looking, and Pidge is unlocking the door while Keith stands at the ready, anticipating whatever may come out. And both Paladins knowing that nothing that comes out that door stands a chance against the Arms of Voltron.