rampart walls (how we watched them fall)
one.

"I don't like this."

Keith glanced back at Hunk, gaze as sharp as the blade he was holding. It still kind of scared Hunk, how good Keith was with a sword. He held it like they were old friends he'd known for years on end; meanwhile, Hunk held his own bayard like it was an awkward second cousin he was forced to make small talk with at Thanksgiving dinner who he saw, like, twice a year.

"You never like things, big guy," Keith retorted, and though his voice was hard, there was no real malice in it. Just stress and strain and determination.

Their mission was simple but crucial. Cause a distraction as Pidge hacked into the control center and downloaded information about Galra base locations. Any kind of distraction, so long as it would garner sufficient attention while Shiro lured a few ships away with the Black Lion. Lance had gone with Pidge as a last line of defense, to pick off any sentries they'd run into.

He wished he were with them instead.

It wasn't that he didn't like Keith, of course. But Hunk always found himself a little on edge around the other boy. They didn't really have a lot in common, and Keith was hot-headed and fast—similar to Lance, who he could handle, but with a lot more sharp edges. Prickly, as Lance liked to say.

Keith's idea of a distraction was to blow things up. In hindsight, Hunk probably should've expected it: number one, he was the Red Paladin for a reason, and number two, he'd already used that trick before when they'd all broken in to save Shiro back on Earth.

"We're about to blow up their landing bays, Keith," Hunk replied. "Their, um, heavily-guarded, super fortified, weapon-filled landing bays. Nothing to worry about."

Keith didn't seem to catch the sarcasm. His lips lifted, and Hunk caught the gleam of teeth as they headed down the hall.

"Exactly," he said.

"I don't know about you," Hunk continued as they stole down a corridor. Keith yanked him back sharply, and they pressed themselves against a wall as two sentries passed. "But I'm not really about the whole danger thing. You know what'd be really nice? A cup of hot tea while playing board games or something. Monopoly. Be careful, though, 'cause Lance and Pidge as a team are ruthless. You'll go broke before you know it."

Hunk knew it was a lot, but talking helped. He didn't really have a whole choice in the defender-of-the-universe matter, and there were a lot of people out there who needed help. Who needed his help. He'd give it freely, and if it came with a side of rambling, they'd have to deal with it.

Keith only grunted in response. He seemed interested, which was good—maybe later once the mission was over they could put together a game of space Monopoly.

"This way," Keith said, voice barely above a whisper.

Up ahead, Hunk caught sight of the bay doors. In the center of the landing bay was a control station. If they could wreck it, there'd be no leaving the base until it was fixed.

It wasn't the only landing bay on the base. Pidge had reported earlier that there were two—the left wing and the right wing on opposite sides, but even taking out one was a big blow.

The comms crackled.

"Pidge, Lance, progress?"

There was a beat before the response came.

"On our way, Shiro. Control room's after, like, a gazillion ID-tests and locked doors, but ETA is… eh, two doboshes?"

"Speaking of," filtered Pidge's voice, "how's that distraction coming along? No one's caught us yet—Lance took out a few guys—but we're going to need it once we get in."

"We're about to go in," Keith said. He and Hunk exchanged a look. There was a crosswalk from the hall that led to the control center. When Hunk craned his neck, he found distant purple shapes and counted four guards blocking the way.

"'Kay. Keep us posted."

"You got it," Hunk said, hefting his bayard higher. He ran his fingers nervously over the rail gun and then nodded at Keith. "You take left, I'll take right?"

Keith didn't bother with a response. He burst into the hall, blade gleaming as he brought it down on the first sentry before it could even react.

Hunk yelled, firing away. A barrel of shots hit the first, then the second. In less than a minute, the fight was over.

"Any sign of other patrols?" he called.

"No one's in the control center," Keith reported back. There's a patrol over by the far side of the bay doors, but I think we were fast enough that they didn't see us."

Hunk peeked over to where Keith was pointing. Sure enough, there was a group of sentries standing by the doors, keeping watch. From here, they were distant enough to just look like dark blobs—hopefully it'd be the same for the other way around.

"Okay, so how are we doing this? Chemicals? Bombs? Chemical bombs?"

"Bombs," Keith replied. He held out his hand. In it were a set of rectangular bombs, compact but big enough to set off a small explosion. "We can attach them to the controls and stuff."

He nodded towards a glass case. "Douse the place with some fuel, maybe."

Hunk steeled himself. It would be fine. There was no one around, and the job would only take a few minutes. Then they could get out and back to their Lions.

"Got it," he said. "You get those bombs while I break out the fuel?"

"In the control room." Lance's voice floated over the comms. "Pidge is hacking in—oh, she's already… oh, okay, downloading intel. Sheesh, this girl is fast."

"How long will it take?"

"Uh… Pidge?"

"I need fifteen doboshes. There's a lot of stuff."

"Keith? Hunk?"

"Our distraction goes off in five, Shiro."

"Don't worry, boss. I got Pidge covered."

There were three long canisters of extra fuel in the case. Hunk lifted them out, poking around at the different parts until he found the dial that would pop the top off.

The metal seemed like enough, but the fuel itself was heavy. Hunk grunted as he lifted the first canister, steadying himself under the weight before crossing the room in two long strides.

Keith had already attached a few of the bombs to the control panel and was working on sticking them on a station. He'd kicked the chair out of the way and knelt down so he could paste them low to the ground.

Hunk started in the center of the room, where Keith had already finished with the control panel. The smell of fuel was thick and cloying, and Hunk watched the dark liquid drain out as he poured it over the panel.

Waterproof, he noticed—but it wasn't fireproof.

The countdown had already started. Hunk had had a crash course in Altean numbers before they'd left. There was about three and a half minutes before the bombs detonated.

"Done," Keith said, standing up and rubbing his hands together. He grabbed a canister, straining under the weight and began to pour, too.

Hunk finished and set the now-empty canister down. Once his hands were free, he let his bayard form again, keeping a careful eye out for sentries.

It was quiet.

Really, really quiet, like a scene in a movie right before something bad was about to happen. And it didn't make sense, either, having only seen one patrol on their way to the control center.

"Um, Keith?"

"Yeah?" The response was distant, distracted.

"I think we should go. Something weird is going on, and I don't like it."

"Mm, no, you're right."

"So if you—I'm what?"

Hunk turned and found Keith studying a holographic chart. He was twisting his sword in his hands.

"Come look at this."

"Uh oh," Hunk muttered. "No. That sounds very ominous. I don't like that, either."

He did it anyway, stopping next to Keith.

"Last time I checked, neither of us can read Galran, Keith. What am I looking at?"

There were two columns. One had words, and the other had numbers, or so Hunk guessed. They all needed to sit down one day and learn some basic Galran, or maybe they could fit Altean-Galran lessons into their schedules with their usual training sessions.

"Here," Keith said. He thumbed a few things on his wrist pad. "I asked Coran to send me a picture of some basic military words and stuff in Galran. It's not all completely accurate, but it gets the job done."

Hunk got the image a second later. Keith was right.

"See," Keith said, pointing at the log. It was a list for checking in as the different commanders and guards who were on-duty. "The last one… Commander whatever. It says he checked in roughly ten…"

"Yeah, ten doboshes," Hunk said, finding the conversion on Coran's list. A cold feeling was beginning to settle in his stomach.

"So… where is he?"

Hunk glanced around, half-expecting to see a Galra jump out from behind the corner. No one did, but he got the distinct feeling that they were being watched.

"Let's go now."

Keith's eyes snapped past him to the second walkway; an alarmed look flashed across his face before he grabbed Hunk and forced him down. A stray bolt passed over their heads, and Keith was moving not even a second later, lunging across the room at the sentry that had appeared.

As Hunk stood, the room erupted into chaos. Sentry after sentry poured in from both sides, blocking the exits.

Hunk fired, having no time to think. With his bayard, he could take out a few sentries at once, but they were getting too close. He was pushed back, forced against a wall. When he glanced over his shoulder, he found himself pressed against glass, the landing bay far, far below him.

"Hunk!"

He kept firing, trying to clear their path, but Keith was weaving in and out of his line of fire. It was too dangerous to keep shooting, so instead Hunk switched to a more direct tactic, using his body weight to ram into sentries, plowing them over.

"Keith!"

Sweat dripped down his face, and Hunk could feel hair plastered to the back of his neck. A risky glance at the nearest bomb showed they didn't have much time left.

"We gotta get out," he yelled. "One minute!"

Hunk slammed his shoulder into the nearest sentry. He grabbed the nearby canister of fuel and hit two over the head with it, panting.

He didn't know how, but slowly Hunk and Keith cut their way through the swarm of sentries that had surrounded them. Hunk made it to the walkway first, turning back and grabbing his bayard to fire amongst them.

"Keith, come on!"

Down on the opposite crosswalk, Hunk saw a tall, hulking figure making his way towards them.

The commander.

Keith cut through another sentry, backing up a step in Hunk's direction. He was so close. Hunk knocked out another one as Keith turned, catching sight of the figure heading towards them.

It was enough to make him falter. Hunk watched as surprise flitted across his face.

He wasn't fast enough.

Keith stumbled once, and Hunk screamed as the commander drew his gun in one fluid motion, shooting across the room. Keith fell back, clutching his arm, and Hunk saw red.

He tore his way back to Keith, yelling his name as sentries were tossed aside like rag dolls. The commander turned his attention to Hunk, but he was ready, bringing his shield up to block the shots.

Keith had gotten back up by the time Hunk reached him, gripping his sword in his other hand. His arm was bleeding—bleeding, Hunk registered—but he seemed fine otherwise, wielding his sword with his left hand just as well as his right.

"Thanks," Keith gasped out, pain shining in his eyes. "Got in a lucky shot."

Hunk met the eyes of the commander across the room. He glanced at his wrist, where he'd synced up his timer to the bombs.

Thirty seconds.

"Let's get out of here," he said.

"Paladins of Voltron."

Hunk ignored him. "Keith, you go first."

Keith was already shaking his head. He looked a little pale. "You first."

"Sentries."

The order fizzled through the room. All of the sentries halted, moving so Hunk and Keith were surrounded, gun after gun aimed at their heads.

Even with the shield up, there was no way they were walking out without a scratch. Hunk began to inch backward slowly, Keith following suit.

"We're not gonna make it out before this place blows," Keith whispered. His breath was warm against Hunk's ear; the two of them were standing shoulder to shoulder, Keith's injured arm tucked inwards.

"Shield," Hunk whispered back. "We can try to take cover when it goes off."

"Emperor Zarkon will be pleased when he sees the gift I brought him," the commander growled, stalking towards them. Hunk trembled. "Would you like to surrender, or would you like me to make you?"

Keith opened his mouth.

"Uh, no, sir, we are all good. You can, um, handcuff us and everything."

"Hunk—"

The commander smiled, cold and sharp. "So easily, too."

His voice sent chills down Hunk's back. He reminded Hunk of Sendak, the way he looked, though it was his leg that had been replaced instead of an arm. Hunk wondered briefly if he had leg lasers or something.

Ten seconds.

"I am Commander Tovak." He laughed suddenly. "But you will remember me as someone to be feared."

Seven.

"Yeah," Hunk squeaked out. "Sounds about right. Very scared."

Five.

Tovak's eyes narrowed. He jerked his chin in Keith's direction. "Put your blade down, child."

"I'll—"

Three. Hunk lifted his shield higher and twisted so both his shield and body were in front of Keith.

Two. Tovak took a menacing step forwards as Keith brought his own shield up—

One.

Light poured into Hunk's eyes, a flash that blinded him. He and Keith were thrown apart from each other violently across the walkway as the control center shook.

An echo like thunder rang in his ears. Hunk found himself stunned, staring at the ceiling for a moment as the explosions died.

Feeling returned slowly. There was blood on his face; Hunk lifted his hand to touch it—a cut, nothing more, nothing less. He knew bruises were forming where he'd landed on his shoulders, but Hunk didn't think he was hurt any more than that.

He clambered slowly to his feet, ears ringing, balance unsteady.

Keith. He had to find Keith.

He sucked in air to call Keith's name only to find his lungs were filling with smoke instead. The walkway was already shrouded in grey, and Hunk stumbled to the side, bracing his hand on the wall. He coughed, eyes tearing up.

"Keith!"

His voice was hoarse. Scratchy. He coughed into his palm and tried again.

"Keith!"

Hunk staggered in the direction where he thought his teammate was, his head spinning.

"Ke—"

He was cut off by his own coughing. Hunk gritted his teeth, staying low. He needed to find Keith and get them both out of there. There was no way Tovak had made it, close to the bombs as he was, but the whole point of their mission had been to attract attention. Even with Tovak down, there would be others to come running.

Slumped on the ground was a dark shape. Hunk's heart missed a beat in his chest, and he dropped to his knee's at Keith's side.

"Keith!"

He was conscious, but barely, fighting to stay awake. His helmet had been knocked off, and there was blood from a cut across his forehead. Hunk swore, his chest aching as he tucked away his shield.

"Stay with me, Keith," he murmured. "Can you… can you get up?"

Keith's eyes unfocused then focused again. He nodded, struggling to sit up, and Hunk helped him the rest of the way. His eyes stung from the smoke, but the tears that were forming came from a helplessness that Hunk hated.

"I'm sorry," Hunk whispered, slinging Keith's arm over his shoulder. "I was supposed to keep you safe."

"Other way around," Keith said before he doubled over coughing.

They took all of two steps before Keith's knees buckled from underneath him. Hunk grabbed his shoulder to keep him from falling, and Keith made a noise of pain as his injured arm was jostled.

"Sorry," Hunk said again. "Shit. Let's… let's just…"

He could feel his heart thundering in his chest, could feel that heavy anxiety already mingling with the smoke in his lungs, but he shoved it down. Keith needed him. He was hurt and couldn't walk.

"We don't have time," Hunk said. "I'm gonna carry you, okay? We gotta get out of here before we're found."

Keith mumbled a protest, but Hunk scooped him up anyway. Fingers curled around the back of Hunk's neck as Keith was pressed against Hunk's chest. He almost fell under Keith's weight, his balance thrown off, but he managed to stay upright.

He found Keith's helmet a moment later, and Keith managed to swipe it off the ground.

"Guys," Hunk said, gasping as he ran into the hallway. The alarms had already been set off. In no time, the place would be packed with sentries. "Guys, I need help."

"Where are you?"

Lance's voice was a welcome relief. Hunk blinked away more tears.

"We're by the left wing. Loading bay." He ducked into another hallway. "Keith's hurt, and I—"

His voice was stuck in his throat. Hunk couldn't get the words out, couldn't seem to stop crying for a moment.

"On our way. The download's finished. Hold on, buddy, I'm coming. You, too, mullet."

Keith's mouth curved upwards into a small grin as Hunk moved further down the hall. He heard a steady booming and realized it was the sound of marching.

He set Keith down carefully, but as he moved to stand, Keith caught his arm.

"Hey," Keith said quietly. "Thanks."

Hunk prepared his bayard.

"Why are you thanking me?" he asked, turning to face the hall and preparing himself to keep them both safe. He wasn't going to fail this time. "I couldn't protect you."

"Yeah, you did," came Keith's voice, but the sound of it was thin and papery.

No, Hunk hadn't. He was a leg. The Yellow Paladin. He was supposed to take the hit, and yet Keith had gotten hurt anyways.

Even after Lance and Pidge had found them, even after the Lions had broken through the side of the base and Shiro had helped Keith into Black, even after Keith was in a pod and Hunk's wounds were being dressed, he still felt like he'd failed.

"Hey," Lance said quietly, tying off a bandage. "You did great back there. It wasn't your fault, okay, bud? You kept Keith safe… he'll be back to his brooding, prickly self in no time."

Hunk only shook his head, leaning into Lance's side.

"I didn't," he murmured. Shame and a thick, heavy guilt made him glance over to where Keith was floating in a pod, eyes closed. He looked at peace, his face smooth as he healed. The cut was already fading.

Lance squeezed his arm, and Hunk dug his nails into his palms, still tasting smoke.