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The conference room hummed with an electric tension. Keith Kogane stood at the front, his dark red Garrison jacket pressed and crisp, holographic displays dancing around him with intricate tactical projections.
The other Voltron paladins were seated strategically—Pidge on the left of his now empty chair, Lance on his right, Allura, Shiro, and Hunk across the table. The rest of the seats occupied with Admiral Sandra, Commander Iverson, and the MFE pilots, among them, James Griffin scowling at the half-galran.
Keith's voice was precise, cutting through the room like a laser. "Our intelligence indicates a critical vulnerability in the Galra's current supply line infrastructure. Specifically, we've identified three quantum-level breach points in the Orion-Carina sector."
Sanda interrupted immediately. "And who exactly authorized this intelligence gathering?"
Before Keith could respond, Shiro leaned forward. The weight of his cybernetic arm caught the light—a silent reminder of battles fought and survived.
"Keith led the reconnaissance," Shiro said simply. "His tactical analysis has been consistently—"
"He was barely a cargo pilot trainee," Sanda interjected, her cybernetic eye scanning Keith with open skepticism. "What qualifies him to—"
Lance couldn't help himself. He stood up, a motion so quick and protective it caught everyone's attention. "Excuse me?"
Pidge muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Hunk to hear. "Oh, this is gonna be good."
"Keith," Lance said, his voice carrying a mix of professional respect and something deeper, "has saved more lives in the past two years than most military strategists do in entire careers."
Hunk nodded emphatically. "Fact."
Keith glanced at Lance—a look so loaded with trust and connection that Allura had to suppress a knowing smile. She caught Shiro's eye, and they shared a moment of understanding.
Sanda wasn't done. "And who are you to interrupt?"
Before anyone could respond, Keith stepped forward. His hand unconsciously moved closer to Lance's, a gesture of solidarity that didn't go unnoticed.
"Lance McClain," Keith said, each word precise and loaded with meaning, "is the co-leader of Voltron. His diplomatic credentials aren't just impressive—they're essential to our survival."
He pulled up holographic data showing intricate diplomatic negotiations, translation matrices, and complex cultural intervention strategies—all meticulously documented and annotated, with Lance's name prominently featured.
"These diplomatic solutions," Keith continued, "prevented three potential interstellar conflicts in the last solar cycle. Conflicts that would have resulted in massive casualties. And they were Lance's strategies."
Hunk leaned towards Pidge. "Is Keith... is he giving a TED Talk about how awesome Lance is?"
Pidge adjusted her glasses, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "When is he not? But this is ten times better than him just pulling his knife out like a maniac" Both of them snickered.
Lance sunk a little in his seat looking at Keith, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment crossing his face. He'd started the defense, but Keith had finished it—perfectly, systematically, leaving no room for argument.
James Griffin looked like he'd been slapped. "Co-leader? Him?"
“Officer Griffin.” Iverson warned.
Lance's eyebrow raised. The old cockiness was there, but tempered with years of real-world experience. "Something you'd like to say?" He says to Griffin with a smirk while he just grunts and looks away.
The room was a battlefield of its own—not of weapons, but of perception.
Keith's gaze locked with Lance's. It was more than a look—it was a conversation without words. Years of battles, of trust, of something deeper than friendship etched into every micro-expression.
Sam Holt, who had been quietly analyzing the holographic data, spoke up. "The computational models are extraordinary. The level of tactical analysis here is unprecedented."
Sanda's cybernetic eye whirred. "Unprecedented doesn't mean reliable."
Keith's jaw clenched. The muscle in his cheek began to twitch—a sure sign he was fighting to maintain control.
Sanda leaned forward, her cybernetic eye whirring with contempt. "Your records show nothing but insubordination, Kogane. Expelled cadets don't get to—"
"Keith," Lance's voice was low, a warning and a calming presence all at once.
But Keith was already past the point of diplomatic niceties. "Are you seriously going to sit there and question our intelligence when we've saved—"
"Saved what?" Sanda interrupted. "Earth? By destroying half the city during your battle?"
"Alright let's calm down, this is very unprofessional on your behalf, Admiral…" Shiro spoke up.
Allura stepped forward, her diplomatic training evident in every measured word. "Perhaps we could focus on the tactical advantages—"
"I don't take strategic advice from aliens," Sanda cut in, her cybernetic eye fixed coldly on Allura. "No matter how human they try to appear."
“Woah, hey, hey, hey, none of that.” Hunk slightly rising from his seat looking straight at the admiral, something cadet Hunk would never dare to do.
Pidge's chair scraped back with deliberate slowness. She stood, her small frame somehow filling the room. "Fascinating. You know what else is fascinating, Admiral? The fact that your entire defense system runs on algorithms I designed. Would you like me to demonstrate how quickly I could shut it down?" Her fingers danced over her holographic keyboard. "For scientific purposes, of course."
The room temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
Shiro's cybernetic arm tensed. Hunk looked like he was about to add something more, but Lance was already moving.
He stood up from his seat and walked towards their leader, positioned slightly in front of Keith—not to block him, but to create a united front. "Gentlemen," Lance's voice was razor-sharp, "let me be absolutely clear."
"We've negotiated truces between civilizations older than human recorded history," Lance continued, his accent bleeding through with each passionate word. "We've protected planetary systems that your most advanced simulations couldn't even begin to comprehend. Our tactical approach isn't theoretical. It's been tested in real-time, high-stakes scenarios where miscalculation meant complete systemic collapse."
Keith was breathing hard, his hand unconsciously reaching for Lance's—a gesture of support, of connection.
James Griffin scoffed. "And you expect us to believe—"
"Believe what?" Lance's laugh was sharp, controlled. "That six individuals who have literally saved multiple galaxies might have valuable strategic insights?"
Griffin stood up, hands planted on the table. "You got lucky. That's all this is. A bunch of lucky—"
"Officer Griffin." Iverson's voice cut through the room like a whip. "You are here to observe and learn, not to question your superior officers."
"Superior—" Griffin sputtered. "Sir, with all due respect—"
"That's exactly what they are," Iverson said firmly, his good eye fixed on Griffin. "The Voltron Paladins have field command authority that supersedes your current rank. Or did you forget the chain of command briefing this morning?"
Griffin's jaw worked silently before he sat back down, properly chastised but clearly fuming.
The moment stretched. Tactical displays continued to spin. Quantum-level data points danced around them.
Keith took a deep breath. Looked at Lance. A silent conversation passed between them.
"Shall we continue?" Keith asked, his voice now controlled.
Although with the tension still in the room everybody collectively agreed to let the leader of Voltron have the floor for the rest of the meeting.
---
Later that evening, Keith found Lance in the hallway right outside his room, spaced out. The tension from earlier still hung in the air, but it softened as they gravitated toward each other.
"So," Lance said, breaking the silence first, "that was quite the speech you gave about me back there."
Keith's cheeks colored slightly. "I was just stating facts."
"Mhmm." Lance's grin was infectious. "You know, for someone who used to communicate mainly in grunts and knife throws, you've gotten pretty good at words."
"Shut up," Keith muttered, but there was no heat in it. He moved closer, their shoulders touching. "You didn't have to stand up for me like that."
"Please," Lance scoffed. "Like I was going to let Sanda talk about my boyfriend like that. Besides," his voice softened, "you did the same for me."
Keith turned to face him, expression serious. "You're worth defending." His hand reached up to cup Lance's cheek. "You've always been worth it, even when I was too stupid to see it."
"We both are," Lance corrected, leaning into the touch.
His eyes sparkled with that familiar mix of mischief and affection. "Though I have to say, watching you go full PowerPoint presentation about my achievements was pretty hot. Didn't know you had it in you, samurai."
Keith groaned and buried his face in Lance's shoulder. "Never letting me live that down, are you?"
"Nope," Lance said cheerfully, popping the 'p'. "I'm thinking of having Pidge make a highlight reel of all your 'Lance McClain is the greatest diplomat in the universe' moments. We could set it to romantic music—"
Keith silenced him with a kiss, but Lance was still grinning against his lips.
When they pulled apart, Lance's eyes were soft, all traces of teasing gone. "You know I'm proud of you too, right? Thank you for the way you handled everything today...defending me and the team, very leader of you.”
"Lance," Keith interrupted, voice rough with emotion, "you don't need to thank me for telling the truth. You're..." he struggled for words, then settled for pulling Lance closer. "You're everything."
Lance's breath hitched. "Careful there, samurai. Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you actually like me."
"Keith Kogane, using his words instead of his knife? Never thought I'd see the day," came Pidge's voice from down the hall.
They jumped apart to see the rest of the paladins approaching. Pidge was smirking, Hunk was trying (and failing) to hide his grin, while Shiro and Allura exchanged knowing looks.
"Oh my god, the room is right there," Hunk laughed, gesturing to Keith's door. "Open it and get to it already."
"I thought the briefing room was bad," Pidge adjusted her glasses with a wicked grin, "but this is worse. At least there you two had the excuse of defending each other's honor."
"Speaking of which," Allura chimed in, her eyes twinkling, "that was quite the diplomatic display from both of you. Though Keith, I must say, your presentation skills have improved dramatically. I wonder why..."
Shiro crossed his arms, looking every bit the proud older brother. "I particularly enjoyed the part where you listed Lance's diplomatic achievements by star system. Very thorough."
"Kill me now," Keith muttered into Lance's shoulder.
Lance wrapped an arm around him, laughing. "No way, babe. You're not getting out of this that easily." He turned to the others. "So, who's got video of the meeting? For, you know, tactical review purposes."
"Already working on the highlight reel," Pidge confirmed. "I'm thinking of calling it 'PowerPoint of No Return: A Voltron Love Story.'"
"I hate all of you," Keith grumbled, but his hand found Lance's and squeezed.
"Even me?" Lance asked, batting his eyelashes dramatically.
Keith looked at him, and despite their audience, his expression softened.
"You're tolerable."
"Aww, that's practically a marriage proposal from Keith!" Hunk clasped his hands together.
"Okay, that's it," Keith turned to his door, pulling Lance with him. "We're leaving."
"Use protection!" Pidge called after them.
"PIDGE!" Shiro scolded, but he was fighting a smile.
Just before the door closed, they heard Allura ask, "What's Microsoft Office?" followed by Hunk's theatrical groan.