Chapter Text
Sparks exploded across metal as a Galran fighter jet was knocked along floating rock.
A jet streaked with the Blade of Marmora’s colors flew past, quick as lightning, three Galran foes chasing after.
Nearby, Keith, along with one other Blade member, were each faced off with their own opposing units. And behind that line of force, a small Galran ship.
It was to be a quick mission—simple and easy—in and out.
Yet somehow Keith and his team were now in deep shit.
“We need to leave!” His fellow Blade yelled out over their comms, doing an aerial spin to knock two of the opposing jets into each other by trying to replicate the maneuver. “We got what we needed!”
“If we leave without fighting, they’ll just chase us!” Keith argued back, growling as he dodged a blast to shoot at an oncoming fighter jet.
Their third spoke up, in a harsh bass tone that edged into a growl. “If we do not leave, more will come, and this mission will be for naught.”
Keith growled. He whipped himself away from the path he had been flying in, to try and whittle down their opposing forces, to instead fly and help his companions.
As much as he hated it, they were right. And Lance and the others had drilled that into him enough already. He could be as reckless as he wanted, but there were sometimes situations or outcomes that mattered more than just him trying to fight everything and everyone on his own. Sometimes he had to know when to bow to a battle to win this war.
And as soon as the three of them were open enough to flee, they did.
The three of them flew as quickly as they could, even with some of those fighter jets hot on their tails.
“We need to lose our entourage before we make a jump.” The Blade on Keith’s right stated.
Keith scoffed. “We’ll lose them in the zone coming up.”
“Wait… you don’t meant to—”
“Yeah.” Keith’s lips curled in a half grin, half snarl. “See if they can fly through all of that interference and still find a way to chase us.”
The Blade on his left spoke, disgust in his voice. “That is too dangerous to even suggest. We should just turn and fight them, then take a jump.”
“No time.”
Blasts shot around them, causing the three to break formation and fly as fast as they could into the field of distorted space before them.
It was an odd anomaly in this part of space. One that Keith couldn’t understand. But looking at it, and everything around the area, he could make some sense of it.
Some way, some how, small tears—or rifts—or portals—had opened in this part of space. And through those shimmering rips in the darkness of space, pieces of rock, metal, and more, floated between them. At first, one could take a guess that the portals all led out randomly elsewhere. Until you paid close enough attention to recognize that a good portion of those portals just fed back into the floating mess.
For Keith noticed a large rock half sunk into one of those rifts on the right, that could be seen again pointed upward instead of sideways, on the furthest left of the field.
To Keith, it was all just a challenge of which ‘door’ was safe to travel through. Like an old cartoon of characters going in one, then popping out a completely different door all together.
He heard his companions through the comms, telling each other to not take too much time and get out as quick as possible. Keith simply responded with a ‘See you on the other side,’ and went to work.
He’d worry about his companions after he dealt with his pursuers.
Keith dove into the middle left of all of the rifts, making sure to not clip a wing into one of those rifts. There was no telling what could happen if he flew partially into one then out, without dislodging first.
It’d suck to see half your jet on the other side of the field, floating without you.
The paladin took experimental shots into some of the rifts around him, trying to make sense of if they came out nearby or elsewhere.
It was somewhat difficult work, but he made a game plan of where best to focus his shots. And it’d take all of his focus to make sure his planned attacks wouldn’t nick one of his companions in the process.
Keith made quick work of the ones chasing him, shooting at him.
While dodging one of the Galran fighters, he shot through a rift, cheering when he heard his shot connect to one of the jets behind him. The next he took care of by nudging them into one of the spaceial tears, watching the jet be sliced in half by flying to the shimmering edge.
That at least answered Keith’s biggest question.
The remnants of the fighter jet half nearest him floated away once its momentum died off.
There was only one jet left on him, and by the sounds of his fellow Blades in his ear piece, he needed to hurry up.
Keith jerked on his controls, making a roll of his jet, skipping one rift, flying into another, then coming out behind the jet that had been chasing him. He shot, watching the jet explode into bright colors, pieces breaking away in a wash of metal.
“All done!” Keith whooped, turning himself to fly out.
“Let’s hurry then.” One of his companions spoke. “We have wasted enough time.”
The raven simply rolled his eyes, victory still keeping his mood high.
Right as Keith reached the edge of all of the rifts and tears, about to break away from their mystery, something slammed into his side.
Keith’s hands reflexively gripped his controls, air punched out of him by how rough the hit was.
He had only enough time to see a giant rock floating away from him before a rift swallowed him, taking his vision from him, leaving him in such brightness he had to close his eyes or face searing himself blind.
Of all things to have happened, Keith had imagined he would have been dumped out into one of the other rifts, planted somewhere possibly further away and in need to weave his way out safely.
Instead, it felt as if he was being thrown through power itself.
Keith grit his teeth tight enough to hurt as he was swung and hurdled through bright light. He feared letting the controls go, even when he didn’t know where he was flying to, even as his console flashed and blared warnings, alerting him to the rift causing distortion. Power tingled along his body, causing his very veins to feel as if they were being torn apart and remade, the hairs on his skin standing up, goosebumps chasing up and down his body.
When the harsh sensation ended, the blinding light became bearable, darkness caressing on the edges of his vision, sparks dancing behind his eyelids. His body was flush with heat, his breath coming in with a sharp inhale, filling his lungs with a different burning, as if he couldn’t draw enough air in to life.
He let out a harsh exhale, hands shaking momentarily as they loosened from the controls, arms strained from his tight grip during the whole incident.
And when Keith’s eyes opened, what he beheld made no sense to him.
He was hovering within the atmosphere of what appeared to be a planet he had seemingly been dumped onto. And there, below him, a semi-recognizable building. Then the vast desert that he knew like the back of his hand.
He was… he was on Earth. Keith had somehow been shot through that rift to the Garrison. It must have been a portal of some kind.
Keith’s hands flew to his control panel, trying to hail his team, to locate them, to understand what had happened. But every sensor inside of his small fighter jet warbled and jumbled with information. The portal must have scrambled his console. Which meant his only chance to return to where he was, was drop down onto the Garrison, get a new jet, or get his fixed just as quickly, then hurry back to the battle he was just in.
And in that wait, he’d try to hail the princess and the others, to warn them of what became of him.
~*~
Except…
That was his plan.
Keith had landed at the Garrison, taking notice of people around him watching on with interest, some standing back to give him room.
And when he emerged from the pilot’s seat, dressed in his Blades uniform, ready to inform them of what ever story he could tell to get him the quickest help and back into space, one of the nearby gawkers spoke up.
“Wasn’t expecting you back so soon, sir.”
Keith hesitated on the edge of his jet, looking to the unknown person with confusion.
Had the others arrived before him then? Or had they hailed ahead, to inform the Garrison of their oncoming arrival?
“I need my jet fixed.” Keith stated. “Or another. I need back up, quick.”
Something was wrong.
Everyone here was moving too calmly, too passively.
If the others had hailed ahead, wouldn’t there be more of a rush of things? He had been in space for awhile, it made sense that the Garrison could have gone under a transformation. But everyone was acting too… too serene to the idea of oncoming war.
Several heads turned to look at each other. One started to speak into a device strapped to their shoulder, the crackle of another voice coming over but too distant for Keith to hear.
He stayed by the opening of his jet. If he needed to flee, he’d be ready.
The person speaking over the little communicator looked to Keith, smiling. “Commander Iverson said he will ready another jet for you. He requests for you to come in and speak with him while you wait.”
Keith glanced at all of the unfamiliar faces then back to the one who had seemingly spoken to Iverson.
Had it been Iverson’s voice?
It had been too quite, too far, for him to have heard.
But this was the Garrison... and there hadn’t been an inkling of Galra area to make Keith believe they had been captured.
Yet he couldn’t shake the unease rolling in his gut.
“Sure…”
Something was off. But Keith couldn’t pin if it was the fact that so much, and so many, appeared different, that it all made his skin itch, or that his senses were pin prickling wary that he was in some sort of danger.
Of course, Keith realized too late that he should have listened to his senses.
He had met up with Iverson. The commander took a look at him, one eye widening with surprise before he began questioning Keith, learning from him that he had been shoved into a rift that was actually a portal, and landed here.
Iverson led him down a hallway, talking to him, asking him about what type of ship he might need, or his supplies to help him out.
Somewhere in the mix, Keith was deposited into a room, left, then locked in.
Keith tried to find any way to escape, taking note of spaces he might be able to crawl into, or use his blade to help him get through. And while in the midst of evaluating if he could crawl through a vent long enough to make it out of the locked room, a door opening behind him had the raven tensing.
“Keith?”
The raven’s head whipped to the door’s direction, looking at someone so familiar and yet so… incorrect.
Just like everything and everyone so far.
“Sh… Shiro?”
Keith stared open mouthed at his brotherly figure, the man who helped raised him, who helped him through his toughest times, who had been fighting beside him during all of this Galran war nonsense. And as he stared, he couldn’t understand what had happened to the man he once knew.
The Shiro who stood in that doorway was notably different. Hair completely white as snow, like he had left him but... Now Shiro was wearing black framed glasses, appearing a touch older around the eyes, and in a Garrison uniform for a position much higher than the one Shiro had left in when captured by the Galra. And his arm.
Keith’s attention went to the arm that wasn’t… connected. A hovering metal forearm, nothing, then the protruding shoulder plate that obviously controlled it.
That wasn’t right.
Shiro hadn’t had that arm the last that they talked.
Shiro definitely didn’t have glasses.
“What… W-What happened?” Keith’s voice cracked, terror filling him. “Did the team get attacked while you guys were returning?”
A flicker of confusion showed on Shiro’s face before it quelled. The older raven walked far enough into the room to allow the door to close, moving still until he stood by the table in the center of the room, close to Keith. Shiro tried for a reassuring smile, but Keith’s fear only grew, his worry becoming deep valleys.
“Keith… what was the last thing that occurred for you before you came here?”
“I… I was called away on that mission to help with the Blades while you and the others planned to return… here, before me. I know by the time I would have followed after you all, it might be adding days in my travel time but—” Keith walked to the table, hands clutched to the edge of it, eyes widening. “Shiro… what happened while I was away? Did that portal jump me more than a few weeks behind schedule?”
It hadn’t looked as if the Galran forces were here yet. They for sure hadn’t destroyed everything in their wake. But their absence didn’t explain why everyone he had seen seemed so calm and collected when he landed. For if Shiro was here, the others had to be as well. Shiro was acting black paladin until his return.
For if he had beaten the paladins here, the Garrison as a whole should have been confused by his arrival, or startled. But they hadn’t been.
Perhaps a bit confused on some, or welcoming, but not a single one was startled in the least to see a deserting cadet showing up in a new uniform and in a ship obviously not from Earth. And if Shiro was here, the others should have been too. So where were the lions? Had the others flown away on another mission? Shouldn’t the Garrison be priming itself for war?
“The portal that you say you came through seems to have jumped you a good bit deal more than a few weeks, Keith.”
Shiro tried to give as reassuring a look as he could to the other, but it was obvious by the look on Keith’s face that he was growing increasingly stressed.
“How much time have I lost?”
“How about we sit.” Shiro pulled out a chair for himself, across from the one Keith would inevitably take.
But Keith wasn’t having it. He was becoming too riled to simply sit and talk.
“Shiro… How much time.” The younger male bit out through clenched teeth.
The doors opened again. And for a split second, Keith was torn on looking at who it was, or staring Shiro down, trying to get an answer from him. But the voice from the doorway had Keith’s head whipping over, eyes wide with surprise.
“We believe about ten years.”
Pidge.
The smart, studious, wildly frazzled looking paladin stood there. But they were older, matured around the face, taller. The Pidge he knew was not the one before him. Now they wore a completely different pair of glasses with a scientist's coat dressed over normal clothing, hair more tamed but still short.
Keith’s jaw fell open.
He tried to speak, but only a cracked sound came out of him.
Ten years?
Keith stumbled to the chair, almost falling into it. His head hung, face now in his hands, as he stared at the table.
Ten years.
He had been transported into the future, past the war that had been on their heels and...
It was all so confusing.
Even as the two explained that based on the information in his ship, the data that Pidge and others could pull, they were able to best guess his previous location and time. But those bits of data were still being decoded even now, to better understand what had happened.
Pidge summarized that while the rift field he had gone into was likely for nothing more than short distance tears caused by some anomaly that Keith couldn’t fully grasp, that it was possible for a long-distance portal to be sitting in the mix, waiting to take its next victim.
It just so happened to be Keith.
Pidge left first, saying they wanted to examine his ship more, and see if they could find a solution so his time jump. For ten years was a big jump.
Shiro hadn’t stayed long after that. He told Keith he’d find him something to eat and try to get as much information as possible on the situation to help.
It was all rather vague about where and how the information the two would get would be coming from. But he let it go.
Shiro came back once, with a bottle of water and a small ration meal for him to eat.
Shiro was apologetic that it might be awhile before Keith heard of any updates, then he was gone again.
Keith tried to keep himself busy after that, but it was obvious to see he was getting restless.
He tried to explore the room again, in an attempt to occupy his thoughts from the swirling vortex of fearful realization that he might be unable to help his timeline’s war. So he imagined all of the ways he’d try to escape, all of the routes and the best possible ways to slip out unnoticed. This then led to him sitting in the seat, feet propped up on the table, trying to look bored and uninterested, lest his captors think he really was trying to break free. That lasted all of a few minutes before Keith sprung back up, those pressing thoughts clawing back into his head. Soon he was turning to exercise, training as a way to keep himself distracted.
But hours passed and there were no more visitors. It was hard to see how long he would be stuck in the room, unable to escape or explore.
If they were trying to figure out what happened to him, shouldn’t he be more involved?
Somewhere in the mix of boredom, Keith laid his head down on his folded arms, giving himself a moments rest. He needed to be ready for anything.
And in the mix of dozing in and out of slumber, Keith heard the lightest sound of the door opening. Perhaps Shiro was back to check on him.
“Wow…!”
Keith blinked out of his sleepy haze.
Of all the voices he could have expected to hear, Lance’s was not one of them.
His head popped up, the raven looking over to where Pidge and Shiro had both walked in previously, where they now stood behind their fellow timeline paladin. And there, standing tall, exuberant, with wonder filled eyes, was Lance.
“You two were not kidding about this.” The older brunet said, walking in with Pidge and Shiro at his heel. Lance chuckled, expression growing brighter with every step, making his giddy smile almost infectious.
Keith blinked again. If only to ensure he hadn’t truly drifted to sleep. That this was real.
He stared up at Lance, half wondering how it was possible for Lance to become even more attractive as an adult, the other half of him wondering what the pair had informed their Lance about before letting him come to the little interrogation room to get him to look so… so… excited.
“Remember what I told you, Lance.” Pidge chided, letting out just the tiniest tired sigh.
Lance’s smile only grew. He now stood on the other side of the table, never once taking his eyes from Keith.
Keith hadn’t lost sight of those blues either.
He stared up at Lance, keeping himself calm and quiet as that overwhelming joy pouring off the other had his heart beating erratically.
“Oh… I remember.”