Chapter Text
“I don’t know, boss. Might have to call it a bad day and split.”
Tarnoc scowled at the screen in his hand. “Not yet. Still plenty of stragglers.”
Drash groaned and thunked his head back against the wall of the worn little hut they were clustered behind. Swap moons didn’t offer much in the way of permanent structures, so they made do with what cover they could get.
“I keep telling you. No one’s any good in this quadrant. All the decent ones got nabbed by Qhune’s outfit.”
Looking at the screen, it was hard to argue the point. The crowd being picked up by their hovering drone was a sea of blue and yellow, which wouldn’t even power the sweeper they were using to see them, let alone anything anyone with money would pay for. But they needed something, or they wouldn’t be able to make it to the next moon.
“We could always go back to good old-fashioned robbery,” Drash was saying, but Tarnoc missed the rest of the sentence as his screen lit up with a very distinctive, and very exciting, color.
“Shut up,” he snapped at his partner. “We’ve got a red.”
“What?” Drash peered over Tarnoc’s head, easily twice the size of him, and exhaled a shocked breath onto the screen. “No way. When was the last time we saw a red?”
“Years.” Tarnoc tapped his sharp nails along the underside of his screen. “Red burns the strongest and the longest. Someone will pay good for this one.”
“Then we’d better get it before someone else does.”
Tarnoc grinned, baring serrated teeth.
“Let’s get it done.”
“Found it yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, keep looking. Someone around here has to have a dynamizer rod.”
Keith sighed and rolled his shoulders. The whole team had been spread across the swap moon all day, scouring for some important mechanical part the Castle needed, but so far none of them had been successful.
“Coran, are you sure this thing still exists?” Pidge asked through the comms. Usually she was excited to go digging through space junk, but even she had her limits.
“Of course it exists! There are five others in the engines right now.”
And they, unfortunately, needed six.
“I’m just saying, the Castle is ten millennia old. Maybe we should be looking in a museum instead.”
“I hope not,” Shiro muttered. “I don’t feel like pulling a heist at the moment.”
“Oh, but that would be so cool though! Like Mission Impossible, but instead of rappelling in we turn the gravity off!”
That was all Keith was interested in hearing. He muted his comms as Lance’s voice rose to dominate the channel, refocusing his energy on the mental image he had of the mechanical part in question. There were still a lot of scrap piles to look through.
He passed what had once been a small building, but was now reduced to a few standing walls and some cloth draped over the empty roof. He paused to peek inside, but the floor was bare aside from a few scattered rocks and wires, so he continued past it and towards the ragged tents he could see nearby. Or he tried, at least; he was barely two steps past the building when a heavy weight slammed into his side.
Keith hit the ground hard, feeling like he’d been body slammed by a killer whale. For a half second he thought it was an accident, until he felt a huge, rough hand close around his wrist.
“Got it,” a growling voice said in his ear. That was when the adrenaline hit, and Keith slammed his knee into the person’s side as hard as he could. He felt his skin split– the person had a hide tougher than rocks– but it knocked the breath out of them long enough for Keith to worm his way out from under their bulk.
“Drash you idiot!” shrieked a cracking voice as Keith rolled onto his feet.
“Shut up,” the other voice roared back.
Keith was already running, and the only other detail he saw about his attackers was that the one who had tackled him was navy blue, and at least as big as Sendak, if not bigger.
It didn’t matter. Big meant slow; he could outrun them, get back to the Castle, and–
Thwack! Something snapped around his ankle and held tight, sending him back to the ground. There were other aliens milling around not far from the scuffle, but if they noticed anything, they weren’t doing anything to help.
Keith scrabbled for his knife, but before he could get a grip on it the blue hulk was upon him again, pinning his hand next to his head with enough force to break the bone if he wanted. The angry look on his lumpy, boulder-like face said he wanted; luckily that creaking voice from before piped up again.
“Don’t break it! Damaged merchandise never sells.”
The fact that his wrist wasn’t currently bone dust was a relief. The words that had prevented that circumstance were the exact opposite. Allura had briefed them on this quadrant, on the rampant trafficking and slave market, and from the sounds of it, he’d just fallen right into the hands of some traders.
With a muffled grunt, Keith swung his free fist at Drash’s side, where the kidneys would be on a human. Drash caught his other hand just as easily as the first, and with his entire elephant weight straddling Keith’s chest and making it a labor to breathe, there wasn’t much else Keith could do except squirm, raking his skin raw on the rocky ground.
“Let me go!” he spat furiously as he struggled. He really, really regretting muting his comms now. “Let me go or you’ll regret it!”
“Oh really.” The owner of the second voice came into view. He was much shorter than Drash, wider than he was tall, a tough shell covering his back and thick skin laying in heavy wrinkles around his joints. His face was wide, too, with wicked serrated teeth. In one clawed hand he held some kind of tablet, but Keith wasn’t in a position to be wondering what it said. “Why is that?”
“I didn’t come here alone.” Keith’s breath came fast and panting. Every cell in his body was vibrating, screaming to get free, but with this mountain of an alien holding him down, there was no way out. “They’ll know I’m gone, they’ll look for me.”
Neither of the aliens looked fazed. The shorter one waved his hand and said, “Doesn’t matter. Turn around is fast on these deals, you’ll sell even faster.”
Rage twisted in Keith’s chest and rushed up his throat, ready to scream. Before the sound could make it out Drash fisted one massive hand into Keith’s hair, pulled his head up, and slammed it back to the ground.
In an instant everything went black.
The next time Keith swam towards consciousness, it was to an intense, pounding pain in his head, his wrists and ankles bound, and his comms missing from his ear.
“It’s damaged,” he heard from far away. It hurt to think, but he tried to focus on the words.
“Just scrapes and bruises.” That voice belonged to the shorter of the two aliens that had grabbed him. “Besides, it’s red. People would think it’s defective if there wasn’t some kind of scuffle.”
“Hmmmm, true. How much do you want for it?”
With difficulty, Keith forced his eyes open. He knew already from the change in pressure that they weren’t on the swap moon anymore, and what his blurry vision was able to pick up corroborated that. He saw silver metal, darker than the Castle, and a pair of talon feet in front of him, one of the toes tink ing against the floor as it tapped thoughtfully.
“No less than five thousand GAC.”
The unknown voice laughed, the talon pausing its tapping for just a moment. “Please, that’s a swap moon price. Four thousand.”
They’re talking about me, Keith realized, stomach twisting. He couldn’t just lay there while these aliens bartered over him– concussion or not, he had to do something. He could still feel the weight of his belt on his waist. If he could manage to get a grip on his knife he might have a chance.
“Forty five.”
There was a moment of considering silence. Keith closed his eyes again and concentrated on making his clumsy fingers respond to him. The material gouging into his wrists felt like rope, if he could just wiggle enough to get his knife out of the sheath–
“Deal.”
The word was immediately followed by a flurry of noise and motion. He heard his kidnappers murmuring excitedly, heavy footsteps ringing through the metal floor, and before he could get to his blade, hands clamping down on his shoulders and arms to haul him upright. His head spun and his ears rang; it was all he could do to keep from vomiting as the few details he’d been able to see of the room disappeared into a gray swirl.
“Take it to processing.”
“Found it!”
A cheer went through the comms at Pidge’s victory, and Shiro let out a relieved sigh. It would be a long walk back to the Castle, but knowing that the search was over made his feet ache just a little less.
It took a full hour to get back to the Castle from where he was. He must’ve been the farthest afield, because almost everyone was waiting at the Castle entrance when he arrived. The engineers and the Alteans were going over the part they’d found, making sure it was in working order, while Lance was sprawled out on the ground nearby, languishing in his exhaustion. The only person missing was Keith.
“You doing alright down there?” he asked Lance, who groaned and threw an arm over his eyes.
“Not right now, Shiro, I’m languishing.”
Shiro chuckled to himself and glanced around. They’d parked the Castle a little away from the main market area, up on a slight rise where they could see a decent distance, but he didn’t see Keith’s distinctive red jacket anywhere in the crowd, which had thinned significantly as the hours passed.
Still sweeping the crowd, Shiro tapped on his comms. “Keith, are you there?” He waited, but all he got was silence. He tried again. “Keith, sound off.” Nothing but silence.
Shiro turned back to the group. “Hey, are you guys still hearing me in your comms?”
A collection of distracted nods was his answer. The only person who seemed to pick up on Shiro’s burgeoning worry was Lance, who sat up and fixed him with a concerned gaze. “Keith’s not answering?”
“Yeah. It seems like the comms are working, but I’m not getting anything back from him.” Come to think of it, Shiro hadn’t heard Keith’s voice over the comms in… a while. A couple of hours, maybe, and that realization made worry fully bloom sickly in his stomach.
Lance got up and joined Shiro at his vantage point. Shiro let him search the crowds as he had– Lance had better eyes than he did– but after a minute or two Lance shook his head.
“I don’t see him anywhere.”
That made up Shiro’s mind. Maybe it was nothing, maybe just interference or bad signal and Keith was on his way to them as they spoke, but the universe was rarely so kind to them. Better paranoid than sorry.
“Pidge,” he called over to the huddle. “The comms units have trackers in them, right?”
“Uh, yeah, one sec.” After reluctantly relinquishing her find to Coran, Pidge stepped away from the huddle and tugged her little tablet out of her hoodie pocket. “Are we looking for Keith?”
Allura sighed before Shiro could answer. “Please tell me he hasn’t gotten himself in trouble again.”
Pidge tapped around on her tablet. Shiro heard a slight chime in his comms when she activated the trackers, then she frowned and squinted at the screen.
“What is it?” asked Hunk, leaning over her shoulder to see. She brushed him away impatiently and shook her head.
“It says he’s by some old building, but he’s not moving at all, and apparently he hasn’t moved in–” She squinted harder. “Almost three vargas.”
“I didn’t know he could sit still that long.” Hunk was joking, but he was right, and that put Shiro in a very not-joking mood.
Allura, reading the look on his face, turned to Coran. “Coran, will you please take the rod down to the engine and get it installed? We may need to leave quickly.”
“Right away, Princess.” He scurried off into the Castle, leaving the rest of them with increasingly solemn expressions on their faces.
“Pidge, where’s that building?”
It took twenty minutes of winding and weaving through the disorganized mess that was the swap moon marketplace, but eventually they arrived at the crumbling building Pidge had specified. Keith was nowhere to be found, inside or out.
“It doesn’t make sense,” said Pidge, flicking her tablet in irritation. “The tracker says he should be right here, and all of our positions have changed, so it’s not lagging.”
“Maybe there’s a basement somewhere?” Hunk suggested uncertainly.
Shiro took a deep breath and turned a quick 360, looking in all directions, but saw nothing that could have indicated where Keith had gone. He had good reason to be concerned– they were in Empire space, and though they hadn’t seen any soldiers or drones on the swap moon, it wouldn’t be hard for a spy or assassin to conceal themself amongst the chaos. Damnit, why had he let them split up? Stupid, a rookie mistake.
“Guys, look.” Lance had crouched down in the dirt, and as the group converged, plucked something out of the dust and held it flat in his palm. It was exactly what Shiro didn’t want to see: a busted comm unit, and no Keith.
“Quiznack,” Allura muttered.
“This place is huge,” said Hunk, wringing his hands. “How are we ever going to find him?”
“I think we need to be more worried about why he’s missing,” said Pidge, “And who’s responsible.”
Shiro was silent, already formulating a plan for what to do next. They had to assume the worst, that Keith had been gone for several hours, and that someone had taken him. First they should try to question the people near here, though it was unlikely that they would be willing to talk, then they should divide the moon into quadrants for a search. Breaking out the Lions might intimidate anyone who was involved into giving themselves away.
He opened his mouth to start issuing orders, right as a quiet voice spoke from behind him.
“Um, ex-excuse me?”
The owner of the voice was a little green alien, shorter than Pidge, who cringed back when the whole group spun to look at them. They were wrapped in a ragged blanket, and had a horn right in the middle of their forehead, directly above their one eye.
Despite their obvious trepidation, they continued, “Are you– you are looking for someone, yes? A– a member of your… species?”
Shiro’s heart soared. With some difficulty, he tamped it back down; just because the alien had seen Keith didn’t mean they knew where he was. “Yes, have you seen him?”
The alien gave a hesitant nod and shuffled forward a few steps. Glancing around surreptitiously, they spoke even softer. “Some vargas ago I saw one who looked like you. He was… with Drash and Tarnoc.”
“Who are they?” asked Pidge.
The alien blinked at them. “They are traders. Petty thieves. They make a loop through the system, visiting the swap moons. Today they had– had their sweeper out.” The alien shivered, burrowing deeper into their blanket like a cold wind had just gone down their back.
Allura was next to step up, asking, “What do you mean by that? What is this sweeper?”
The little alien’s mouth quirked, as though amused, though their voice still trembled. “Ah, you are not from here, yes? The sweeper looks at crowds. I don’t know what it sees, but whenever someone has a sweeper, you know they’re looking for someone to take.”
Shiro’s stomach dropped like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t the only one, as Hunk stammered out, “Ta-take? Take where? Why?”
“Anywhere the price will be good.”
Shit. When the alien said ‘traders’, they didn’t mean normal merchants. They meant– fuck.
All of them muttered various curse words under their breath. The little alien gave them a sad, pitying look.
“I am sorry. My womb-mate was taken from me by such traders, many decaphoebs ago. There is little we can do.”
Shiro’s fists clenched at his sides. Maybe there was little these aliens could do, but they didn’t have Lions. “Where can we find them?”
“Oh.” The alien shuffled their feet nervously. “Tarnoc and Drash usually land their ship there,” they pointed past the dilapidated building, out past the boundaries of the market, “in the wastes. It’s very old, and has a circular symbol painted on one of the wings in blue.”
Shiro couldn’t see it from where they stood. They’d need to look from the air.
“Thank you,” Allura said, ever gracious. “You’ve been a great help.”
“Good luck,” answered the alien as they shuffled away. Once they were out of earshot, Shiro turned to the rest of the group, all of them wearing grim, determined expressions.
“We should take a shuttle,” said Allura.
“Why?” Pidge protested. Her knuckles were white around the edges of her tablet. “The Lions will be intimidating. It’s a lot harder to keep secrets when a ten-ton metal cat is standing over you.”
“But they’re also recognizable. The last thing we need right now is the Galra descending on us while we’re trying to find Keith.”
“Fine,” Shiro said. He agreed with Pidge, but Allura was being practical, and this wasn’t a decision they could afford to waste time on. “Come on, if we move fast we might catch them before they leave.”
On their way back to the Castle the comms were noisy as Allura explained the situation to Coran. Shiro tuned all of the words out, too consumed by the dread churning in his stomach. Honestly it may have been better if it was an Empire agent that captured Keith– at least then they would know what they wanted and how to get him back. Slave traders could do any number of things, take him anywhere, and it took considerable effort to ignore the worst-case scenarios flashing through his mind.
Keith was feisty. He wouldn’t bow easily, and that would get him hurt.