Catch the Stars ||Keith Kogane||

35

Trip had been all over the galaxy, and she'd seen a lot of things that tech could do. It was borderline magic. So, she wasn't very shocked that another version of herself was on the other side of the screen, right now. What she was shocked about, was that Keith took the hand of the clone and let it help him to his feet.

Shiro looks wildly between the Trip beside him and the one standing with Keith, "but....how are you...?"

She looks over at him, giving a head shake before looking back, "I have no idea."

Kolivan answers the question that hadn't been directed at him, "his body is in acute distress," he informs them, folding his hands behind his back, "his suit is creating a virtual mindscape to distract him."

It made sense when you knew that this whole thing was designed for Keith to fail. They didn't want him to get the information he wanted, so when he was close to being beaten they distracted him so they could deliver the final blow. The problem was, now there was no one around to deliver that blow. Just him, on the brink of passing out, and a fake version of Trip.

But why was the mindscape her? Why not Lance, or Shiro, or even Pidge distract him? The question felt very important to her, even given the situation.

"We should get out of here while we have the chance," fake Trip says on the monitor, "leave the blade, we can still make it to the castle."

Keith can't even manage a head shake with how beaten down and tired he is. He can only tighten his grip on the blade, "I'm not giving it to them."

Fake Trip sighs in annoyance, pressing the knuckles of one hand to her shoulder, "this is getting ridiculous, Keith," she tells him, "you're seriously going to get us all killed for that thing?"

He lifts the blade, showing it to her but not loosening his grip, "this is my only connection to my past," he says angrily, his hands shaking as he held it, "this is my only chance to learn the truth about it."

The copycat of Trip cracks her other knuckles. Real Trip grunts, suddenly aware that she was doing the exact same thing right now. She lowers her hands, shoving them under the leather armor to stop herself from popping them. She hadn't realized she did that so much.

"So you get to keep your connection to your past, but you won't tell me that mine is dead." Fake Trip growls, her lip lifting in an angry sneer. Through the screen, they can see Keith flinch at the harsh words, "how is that fair?"

It was true, she was angry about that. But it's hardly at the front of her mind, right now. The fact that it even left the mouth of her clone was confusing. This wasn't a carbon copy, though that would be much more convenient if it was. She could send it home to handle problems there. But not if it was hung up on unimportant emotions.

Keith opens his mouth to reply to her, "I...I didn't--"

"For once, Keith, don't be selfish." After she says that, Keith fails to reply. He's staring at her, and Real Trip can't figure out what's going through his head. Fake Trip takes a step forward, holding her hand out for the second time, "give me the knife. Go back to your team, your family."

He pulls it closer to him, protectively, and looks up at her almost...apologetically, "I can't, Trip."

Fake Trip turns away from him, her fists clenched from anger of being turned away, "fine," she growls, walking towards the other end of the room, "I'll tell everyone you chose a piece of metal over them."

When she was turned, Real Trip could see the detail of the clone. Even her neck had the few droplets of dried blood that were there right now. From the spat in the entrance room. Reminded about it, Real Trip lifts her hand to feel the surface wound. A slight stink followed the pressure, but no new blood fell.