Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Pidge was a baby, the sky darkened and demons descended.

Humanity fought them off, barely. The demon force was small, but strong, magic like no one had ever seen at their behest. They left scars on the very ground beneath our feet, relentless in their search for something, goal unknowable. Be it through luck or determination, they were beaten back, the last demon retreating with their life, leaving humanity with a brand new nightmare to keep them up at night.

Well, that's what Pidge's mother said. The demons were in fact Galra, aliens, and it was nighttime when they attacked, so it didn't really 'darken' as much as it was already dark. Their 'magic' was incredibly advanced technology. She was just melodramatic, but that was why Pidge always preferred her bedtime stories.

Matt, though, usually requested their father instead, who kept the light on and didn't try to spook them. What a big baby.

Yes, to be fair, the outposts they stayed at when their father was stationed there were creepy at night. The thing about research facilities is that they had a lot more space than they did people - Something very apparent when everyone went to bed and you could hear sound echo in the halls.

Still, Pidge teased him relentlessly. It was a sisterly duty.

Their mother was technically a freelance gardener, though with all the moving around, she'd often go months without taking a job. Pidge didn't think she minded - She filled her days with her passion: hacking computer science.

It was fascinating to watch her work. Pidge preferred a computer when she was taking it apart and putting it back together, but she could appreciate the art in picking it apart with just code, wreaking havoc without touching a screwdriver. Matt tended to lose interest pretty fast, wandering off to read a textbook or work on his newest project.

He was pretty private with them, right up until their father had a bit of freetime, and he'd leap at the chance to spend time with him, whether he had to share his work or not. It was obvious from when they were little that Matt was going to follow in his father's footsteps. He had the same mad drive for the unknown and same lack of a social life to support it.

Pidge, though she shared their love of science, couldn't see herself doing the same. Her projects were her own, not something made on orders.

The research that her father spent so much time on was on behalf of the Galaxy Garrison - Earth's space force and research body. Apparently a pretty niche group before the Galra attack, but of course one of the most important in the years since. Her father's research was classified, naturally, but Pidge picked up a lot from snooping around with Matt and, when she was older, hacking some of the less classified stuff. The Garrison was studying the tech the Galra left behind: Various wrecked ships and a few weapons.

When Pidge was ten and Matt fifteen, they snuck out of their bedrooms and broke into their father's lab. There wasn't much to do on base, okay? Pidge usually tried to befriend the other kids, but there were never many, and they moved around often, so it was sisyphian, really. With just her and Matt, well, they got bored of videogames and studying eventually. Especially knowing there was a treasure trove of alien technology a few doors down.

"Wow! Its a... Well, its probably a weapon." Matt said, staring at some sort of glowing stick inside a glass box.

"Do you think this is an engine part?" Pidge asked, peering at something that maybe resembled a gear. "Do space engines even work like regular engines?"

"Probably not. I suppose that's why they're called 'drives' in comic books."

"Wow, you went a whole five minutes without mentioning your nerdy stuff."

"Says the girl with a box of computer parts under her bed."

The lab didn't house all of the Galra technology, of course. A lot of the more functional stuff was elsewhere for practical tests (classified information that Pidge 100% didn't know). But the glowing stick and engine parts were still awesome, and the weird, purplish blade half-melted to some ship debris was intriguing.

"You know, there's a lot of undamaged writing on these," Pidge said, looking over some debris. "I wonder if anyone's translated it."

"I don't see how. We don't know anything about the Galra language."

"How did we communicate with them, then?"

"We didn't. You know, they opened fire and then it was all fighting and eventually they left."

"How do we know they're called the Galra, then?"

"...Huh, I'm not sure."

Matt joined the Garrison cadet programme a year later. Pidge was expecting it, of course, but that didn't make it less weird for it to only be the three of them. Pidge had shared a room her whole life, and now it just felt... strange.

Yet, even the base wasn't as weird as home. They didn't live on base permanently, even though they spent most of the year there. The Holts had a nice little flat in the city, nothing fancy, but something stable to return to. The first time they went back there after Matt left they found it just as they'd left it - Complete with Matt's half finished homework and untied shoes by the door.

...Pidge didn't miss him, really. He was a nerdy, wimpy loser.

She continued on, working on her projects - Most recently, a handheld video game. Pidge showed it to her mother who thought it was great, and she appreciated that, but it didn't mean much coming from her. She was her mother. She had to say nice things. When Matt said it, he really meant it. But he wasn't here, and finding time to show her father was always difficult.

It didn't help that her father's newest project was more time consuming and more classified than ever before - Meaning that Pidge and her mother couldn't even join him on base.

"Its only a few months," He told Pidge, arm around her shoulders. "I'll call you every day, and you can tell me all about whatever trouble your mother has gotten in to. The time will pass before you know it."

The time did pass. Problem was, the project got extended. And then extended again.

Oh, Pidge was sure it was important. Whether the Garrison publically acknowledged it or not, the Galra would be back one day, and Earth needed any edge they could get to defend themselves. That didn't mean she had to like it.

One day, sitting in the garden of one of her mother's clients, Pidge asked why the Galra had come on the first place (it wasn't the question she truly wanted to ask, but its the only one she could).

"There are theories," Her mother said. "Some think they wanted our resources, some think they felt threatened, some think they just like to fight - We don't actually know, though."

"But we do think they'll be back?"

"They might not be. There weren't that many ships, so maybe they didn't care that much. But they might care a lot, so we assume that to be the case and prepare for it. We don't really have a choice."

Right.

When Pidge was thirteen, the Garrison announced to the world that they'd successfully created a spaceship using Galra technology.

She already knew, of course. Matt couldn't keep his mouth shut at the best of times, let alone when he was on the team that made it.

"Junior lab assistant," Pidge pointed out. "There's a cap on how smug you can be when you're the lowest ranked team member."

"Still! I was the comms officer for a solid half of the practical tests." Matt flopped next to Pidge on her bed. "It's exhausting being that cool, you know?"

Pidge rolled her eyes. "Like you'd know."

"I would. You'll see."

Frustratingly, he refused to elaborate on that statement.

At dinner that night, with all four of them (more common than it was before Matt graduated, but still rare), they talked about Bae Bae and the new neighbours and any random thing. But Matt and their father kept exchanging looks, something clearly occupying their thoughts.

"This new spaceship sounds impressive," Pidge's mother said. "Though I didn't realise that was the main priority. We already had spaceships, you know?"

"Only one of several projects," Her father agreed. "Just so happened to be the first major thing to be functional."

"Is it the whole ship that's Galra based? Or just the engine?"

"Mostly just the engine," Her father looked at Matt. "Speaking of the ship, there's something we should mention."

Matt suddenly looked nervous.

"The ship, or, well, the engine, has had too many tests to count a this point," Her father continued. "But the actual end goal is to use it for missions."

Well yeah, obviously. It wasn't a museum piece.

"The first mission has been planned for a while, as part of the Garrison's five year plan. Its to set up a monitoring system at the edge of the solar system, specifically the moon Kerberos, to give us early warning and intel."

"Quite an ambitious first mission," Pidge's mother said. "Doesn't it take years to get out there?"

"That's the benefit of the new engine," Matt said. "Its just 57 days, or you know, two months, each way. The crew will be in cryo for most of it."

That was... specific.

"Impressive. Say, how many crew for a mission like that?"

"Kept it minimal, simpler that way," Pidge's father said. "Three crew members. One pilot, obviously. You've met Shiro?"

"Oh yes, of course. Great pilot. And the others?"

"...A scientist and a comms officer."

The room was silent for a moment. Then Pidge's mother started talking very loudly.

"Kerberos?? Both of you??"

"Its not really that far-"

"Oh yes it is!"

Pidge didn't hear most of what she said, brain still processing two months each way, before she looked at Matt and finally managed to speak.

"How did you get on this mission?"

"Uh- Wow??"

"Katie!" Her father said.

"In the sense that-!" Pidge rushed to speak. "There are more senior comms officers- Ah, congrats, bro!"

"Oh dear..." Her mother said.

"The ship's communications are wired a bit strangely, and Matt adapted to it most efficiently." Her father said.

"I am actually good at my job, you know." Matt said.

Pidge buried her face in her hands.

"Moving on," Her mother said. "When is this mission?"

"We launch in about six months," Her father said. "Time for the final test flights and mission planning and everything."

"Hmm," Her mother said. "Time for you to do the washing up as well."

The two of them walked the dishes into the kitchen.

"...Kerberos really is quite far." Pidge said.

"Its still the same solar system. In the grand scheme of space, that's nothing."

She took a breath. "True. Unfortunately you won't be far enough away for me to escape how much you stink."

"Rude!"

When Pidge was fourteen, her brother and her father went to space.

Before that, they saw them off near the lauchpad. It was an impressive spacecraft, not the largest Pidge had ever seen, but sporting all sorts of strange design features, plus the oh-so-special engine. It made up half of the ship, black and purple and strange.

"Smile!"

Dad and Matt did just that, arms around each other whilst Mom took their picture. She'd even brought out the fancy digital camera.

"Now you, Kat," Mom said. "Go stand between them."

Pidge did so, Bae Bae running after her. Dad just laughed, and they had a picture with the four of them.

On the sunny day, Dad's firm hand on one shoulder and Matt on her other side, helping to hold the wriggling dog, looking at Mom's smiling face... Pidge managed to feel joy for the day, rather than the nervous dread that'd kept her up lately.

Mom wasn't satisfied until they'd taken every combination of picture under the sun. The last was the photo Pidge took of her and Dad, holding in eachother like they had in their wedding photo.

Matt was in his uniform, but not yet his spacesuit. They'd need time to sort all that out before launch, so he'd have to leave soon.

She said goodbye to her father first.

"You'll barely have time to miss us," He said, hugging her tightly. "Keeping your mother out of trouble while we're gone. Think you can handle it?"

Pidge blinked rapidly. "Of course I can."

"That's my girl." He gave her one last squeeze before letting go.

Matt valiantly tried to tame his hair, ruffled from Mom's fuss.

"You may as well not bother," Pidge said. "You'll have helmet hair for the next four months."

"Which is bad enough! Its gotta at least be decent before I put my suit on."

They stood quietly for a moment. "Um... good luck."

"Thanks," Matt said. "I was meaning to give you these." He put something in her hands.

"Your loser glasses, really?" Matt hadn't needed glasses since he was thirteen, but he 'liked the look'.

"Can't exactly wear them under my helmet."

"So I'm lumped with them. I see. Well, don't expect to get them back."

"Oh, I'm sure I won't."

Matt patted Bae Bae on the head, and made to follow their father toward the launch tower.

Pidge watched for three seconds before running after him.

She crashed into her brother, squeezing the air out of him with the force of her hug.

"I don't actually want to keep your loser glasses."

Matt's arms came around her back. "I'm coming back, pigeon."

"I know. Otherwise I'll bribe Bae Bae until I'm his favourite."

"You haven't managed that in twelve years. I'm not worried."

Pidge pressed her head into his chest for a moment, before letting go and pushing herself away. "Well, go on then. Get out of my sight."

Later, in the obervation tower, Pidge's mother held her hand, and they watched Earth's fastest ship power up. Thirteen years of tireless research and setbacks had all led to this.

Pidge watched the engines fire, picturing her family strapped into their seats, and squeezed her mother's hand so hard she left marks.

The ship flew up into the atmosphere, and all thought was drowned out by the room's wild cheering.

Two months later, the Garrison received a confirmation of successful landing, and various notes from the crew. One such note was from Matt, addressed to Pidge.

'Its cold in space! I mean, I knew this was an ice moon, but I expected this million layer spacesuit to keep me warm. Not so lucky. Remind me never to complain about mom keeping the heat on again!'

Pidge read it over more times than necessary, relief running through her.

"One day for readings, one for set up, one just in case there's a delay," Her mother said. "They should be headed back soon."

Good.

...Only because Bae Bae missed them, of course.

A few days later, Pidge was roused from sleep. Her clock told her it was 6am, a little early for mom to be up, and Bae Bae was fast asleep on Matt's bed.

Still half-asleep, Pidge listened to the voices downstairs. One of them was her mother's, the others unfamiliar. New neighbours?

Her mother raised her voice, and suddenly Pidge was wide awake.

The conversation quietened, followed by the sound of the front door opening and shutting. Then... crying.

Pidge froze with her hand on her door handle. Something was wrong.

Her breathing picked up, moving back from the door. She felt dizzy. Something wet touched her ankle, and she barely avoided kicking Bae Bae in the head. The dog looked up at her, head cocked, tail wagging.

Pidge wasn't sure how long she stared back at her.

The door seemed immovable. As long as she didn't open it, everything was fine.

Bae Bae got bored, walking in a circle a few times before sticking her face under the bed and coming back with a toy. It was that stupid green thing Matt had won from a claw machine, smug for days afterward...

Pidge felt sick.

All of a sudden that room was suffocating. She stumbled into the corridor, door slammimg into the wall. Something in her heart pulled her toward the living room, even as she wished to never enter it.

Her mother looked up from where she was sat on the sofa, eyes red.

"Katie..." Pidge said nothing, throat sealed up. Her mother got up and walked over, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands.

"Oh baby..." She said. "I... Something has happened. Something bad."

No.

"Your father, and, and your brother..."

NO.

Pidge dropped her mother's hands and ran from the room. She was shaking, barely able to hold the door handle as she slammed it behind her. In her room, Bae Bae barked, whining, shut up shut up shut up-

This was a nightmare. This- This couldn't be real.

Her mother knocked on the door and Pidge shoved her chair in front of it, except no, wrong desk, it wasn't her chair-

She backed up, tripping over Bae Bae and knocking the things off of the dresser. Her keys, the penguin ornament, deodrant- Bae Bae whined, pushing her nose against her arm. And, and...

The frame was worn from age, just a cheap wooden thing. Inside it Bae Bae was a puppy, paws smaller than even two-year-old Pidge's hands. Holding her was...

Pidge's eyes blurred.

Matt held the puppy tight, grinning at the camera while Pidge climbed his arm. Bae Bae was a family dog, but not really, they'd gotten her to help with seven-year-old Matt's nightmares.

Bae Bae, Matt's dog, pushed her whimpering snout into Pidge's hand, and-

Pidge buried her face into her fur, barely even recognising the sound she made. Bae Bae pressed her body into her and she broke.

Pidge stared at the mug in front of her, unclear when her mother put it there.

It was evening, now. They haven't eaten all day. They wouldn't even if food was put in front of them. But her mother had just barely pulled Pidge from her room and clearly felt the need to do something.

Pidge's mouth was dry, so she drank the tea.

Her mother sat next to her at the dining table. Her head looked impossibly heavy as she propped it up with her arms.

Pidge's head pounded and she had the urge to scream, but she asked her question anyway.

"What happened?"

Her throat was dry and scratchy and her voice came out rough and quiet, but her mother understood.

"Something during takeoff..." She said, voice just as bad as Pidge's. "I... wasn't really listening. We're meant to go in tomorrow, to, to sort things out..."

Pidge nodded vaguely, feeling unreal.

"Sorry," Her mother said, and then Pidge was crushed in her arms. "I just..." She pressed her face into Pidge's hair, shoulders shaking.

Pidge understood. She wrapped her own arms around her, trying to remember the last hug her father had given her.

Pidge looked around her at all the uniformed officers and realised that she was still in her pajamas, hoodie overtop and battered shoes on her feet. She didn't much care.

The room she and her mother were led to was small, three seats lined up in front of a desk, currently manned by an older woman. Admiral Sanda, Pidge recalled.

She stood as they entered. "Mrs Holt. Katie." She held out her hand to shake, but neither of them took it. "I understand there are no words that are enough for what you're feeling right now, but I express my earnest condolences."

Pidge stared at the ground.

"Thank you," Her mother said. "Shall we sit?"

Sanda gestured them to the chairs. There was another man in the room, but he stood in the corner, ignoring the seat even as Sanda looked at him.

"Right then," She said. "I'll begin. Sometime after the crew confirmed they were preparing to leave the surface, the GGE ship was destroyed. All hands were lost."

Pidge took a breath.

"How, exactly?" Her mother asked, voice quiet.

"...We believe they crashed," Sanda said. "Pilot error."

"Pilot error?" The man in the corner said. "Takashi's the best pilot you've ever had and you know it."

"That doesn't make him immune to mistakes," Sanda said. "It likely happened shortly after take off, where the gravity would make piloting the most difficult."

"Don't you know?" The man said, voice hard. "The ship sent logs to Earth regularly, every few minutes. Why are you guessing about what happened?"

"Our information is limited," Sanda said. "Whilst you're right, that is usually the case, many logs were not sent to us around the time of the incident. Likely miscompiled. The system on the ship was unfamiliar, and the mission tiring, so it would have been an easy mistake for the comms officer to make-"

"Matt would never!" Pidge snapped, glaring at the admiral. "He knows how to compile a damn ship log, and you picked him because he knew the system! He wouldn't make a stupid mistake like that."

"I- Of course. I was speaking theoretically."

Pidge glared, because she was only saying what Pidge wanted to hear, but her mother put a hand on her shoulder, and Pidge ran out of fuel.

"And your reasons for believing it was a crash?" The man asked.

"The last information we have indicates the ship's systems were functioning optimally. The monitoring equipment was set up without incident. There is nothing to indicate another issue."

"In other words, you don't know what happened, so you've decided its Takashi's fault?" The man snapped.

"No one is blaming anyone," Sanda said. "We are sharing the information we have with you, something we are not obligated to do. You do not have to agree with our assessment, but know that we did not make it lightly."

"No, just as quickly as possible, so you can save face."

"Commander." Sanda warned.

"Admiral," Pidge's mother cut in. "I'm sure you understand that we are all a bit sensitive right now."

Sanda nodded. "Of course. I don't expect any of you to be at your best."

"Good," Mom said. "Because I would like to tell you you're an idiot, calling us in here to tell us you think this is our family's fault and then expecting us to be grateful for it."

"Mrs Holt," Sanda said, affronted. "I feel you've gotten the wrong idea about this meeting."

"Its not much of a meeting," Pidge mumbled. "Reddit threads are more organised than this."

"Was there anything else, or are we done here?" The man said.

"That is all, but-"

"Then I'm taking my daughter home," Pidge's mother said. "Quite why you felt the need to have this meeting so immediately I have no idea. None of this was urgent."

Pidge lost track of the man quickly after they left the room, though she wasn't trying very hard. As they walked down to the entrance, Pidge thought about Sanda's explanation.

"Mom," Pidge said. "Do you..."

"Yes, Katie?"

Pidge wasn't sure how to ask 'Do you think they were scared?' without bringing them both to tears.

"Never mind."

Back home, it was harder to think about anything, really. Everywhere she turned she saw Matt's old textbooks or Bae Bae or her father's long service award, or a dozen other things.

Pidge wasn't sure she'd ever feel hungry again, but their neighbours brought them stacks of tupperware meals, and her mother badgered her into eating at least a little. She felt a little less awful afterward, but it hardly made a dent in her lethargy.

Days passed. One morning, she woke up, kicking her blanket off of the sofa. She hasn't slept in her room... Since. Her mother was still in bed, a side effect of her very late nights doing who knew what.

Pidge turned on the TV for the background noise and went to brush her teeth. When she came back, the news was playing.

"Today, an unfortunate tragedy - For their loved ones and for humanity's future. The groundbreaking spaceflight to Kerberos ran into difficulty several days ago, resulting in the unfortunate death of all three crewmembers."

Pidge grabbed the remote, ready to turn it off. She didn't care to hear this again.

"The Galaxy Garrison has issued a statement on the matter. It follows 'Our hearts are with the crew's loved ones at this time. Though we do not yet have a definitive answer to the incident, our experts believe that the prototype design amplified what should have been minor piloting mistakes, resulting in this tragedy.' "

Pidge stared at the screen, unnoticed tears dripping down her face. That'd been happening a lot lately, but she didn't usually feel so...

"One has to ask, is the Garrison under too much pressure to deliver? I can think of no other reason to send out a ship clearly filled with design flaws."

Angry.

Before she knew it, she'd thrown the remote across the room. The plastic shattered on impact, tumbling to the ground, and Pidge gripped her hair madly.

'Prototype design' It was no fucking prototype, that ship was tested to hell and back and cleared by every scientist even remotely qualified. The Garrison was happy enough to send it into space, but as soon as something went wrong, it was incomplete, apparently. Liars.

'Filled with design flaws' They knew what they were doing, casting doubt on the ship like that, casting doubt on- Twenty nine years her father had worked for them, had dedicated day after day to project after project, losing sleep and working even on his time off, just for them to turn around and throw him under the bus! It wasn't enough that they thought Matt screwed up, they also had to go on record and say this whole mess was her father's fault?

Pidge's chest heaved, and she itched to throw something else, to fucking scream-

"Katie!" Her mother was in front of her. "What happened?"

Something inside her burst. "They said its dad's fault! They work him to exhaustion until he makes an engine for them and happily use it, but as soon as they don't know what went wrong, they throw him under the fucking bus! Its dad's fault, its Matt's fault, its that pilot's fault, its everyone's fucking fault apart from the people that sent them there!"

"Kat-"

"They can't just do that! They can't just sacrifice their lives for their stupid fucking five year plan and then sacrifice their reputations for their stupid fucking image! They can't get away with that!"

"Katie!" Her mother gripped her shoulders. "I know, okay? Its horrible. They can't get away with it. And they won't."

Pidge took a deep breath, face wet, and looked into her mother's eyes, following her as she led. Her mother's room was neater than Pidge's, piles of random items contained to certain areas and her desk relatively clear. Her computer, though, was a beast, a massive tower covered in wires and three separate monitors.

"It occured to me in that meeting," She said. "When that man said Shiro was the best pilot the Garrison has ever had. He's not wrong. In fact, he was their poster boy, the guy they show off as a success story."

"Right."

"He's one of the best known faces of the Garrison. So anything that hurts Shiro's reputation hurts the Garrison's reputation. That's something you avoid - If something theatens your star pilot's reputation, you scapegoat something less important."

"But that's not what they did."

"No. Which begs the question: If Shiro was the less important scapegoat, what are they hiding?"

Mom turned her monitors on, bringing up displays of code and documents.

"The Garrison's cybersecurity is strong, and harder to get through when I'm not on base," She said. "But they can't protect everything. See here, these emails about Kerberos? They're talking about the loss of the mission, but its only been an hour since last official contact. They weren't even expected to message again for another half hour. So why have they written them off?"

Pidge ran through the timeline in her head. The crew finished setting up the monitoring equipment, effectively completing the mission. They contacted mission control to let them know they were preparing to leave. This was last official contact, and ostensibly the last message received. Allegedly, the Garrison received no further logs after this point. An hour later, they were talking about the loss of the crew.

"They're lying!" Pidge realised. "If they knew that soon, then they must have had further contact!"

"Exactly."

"The Garrison claims they don't know what happened, but if they're throwing Shiro under the bus, they definitely do," Pidge said. "Live contact may not have been practical in the timeframe, but they got the information somehow, which only means one thing: Those logs do exist."

"Not just that," Mom said. "Standard logs would tell you about the system status and all sorts, but not crew observations. If the Garrison knows what happened, its because Matt sent them live logs, with all the extra data that entails."

Live contact was difficult due to the distance, the weird ship system, and the interference caused by proximity to the monitoring equipment. But of course her stupid, brilliant brother managed it anyway.

Pidge ignored the squeeze of her heart, turning back to the monitor. "The Garrison will guard that information like its gold dust. But if they didn't want the Holts to crack it, they shouldn't have lied to our faces, right?"

Mom had a strange look on her face, approaching a smile. "There you are," She whispered. Then louder, she said. "Absolutely right. Go get your laptop."

Pidge and her mother gained access to a lot of classified things over the next month. A bunch of unrelated documents, the ship blueprints (with her father's signature in the corner), test flight information (with her brother's comms report attached) - And most notably, the crew personnel files. They didn't like to snoop through Shiro's too much, the man practically a stranger, but they had no such reservations about their family's. Matt's even had his grades from his academy days - Apparently he'd struggled with spacewalking more than he'd let on.

But Pidge had underestimated the security on the mission logs - They weren't guarding them like it was gold dust, they were guarding them like they were the last gold dust on Earth.

"Brick locks," Her mother mused, drinking tea. "If you really, really don't want data getting out, you limit its access over networks. Of course, that makes it incredibly inconvenient to communicate about it..."

That didn't make the logs impossible to access remotely. They'd been sent remotely, so they had to be stored somewhere with network access. Even if they'd been removed since, the only way to delete them entirely was a full system reset, and there was no evidence of that.

It did, however, make it significantly harder. Pidge hadn't expected to crack the Garrison's secrets overnight, but each morning that passed grated on her.

'Brick locks' as her mother called them, were essentially a form of local-access-only security. They weren't the strictest form of them, but they locked data down to specific locations. In this case, the fact that they were operating from their flat, hundreds of miles from any Garrison base, was a detriment.

It would be easier if they were in a Garrison base - Any of them. They'd stayed at many over the years, but they weren't about to be allowed access without a related Garrison officer. They'd been called in for that meeting, but that wasn't likely to repeat itself, and even if it did, they hadn't been left unattended at any point. They'd have no opportunity to start hacking their firewalls. The Garrison didn't allow visits from the public, save for their heavily monitored tech showcases. They only really risked that sort of thing because it increased interest in the academy.

...The academy.

Public events were a no-go because they'd be watched so heavily, but cadets weren't, and couldn't be, monitored 24/7. The academy was a supplementary base, but it was nonetheless a base. Pidge could bypass the brick lock there, easy.

Of course, they weren't about to accept Katie Holt as a cadet.

That would be a problem, if she didn't have a master hacker as a mother.

Matt's personel file contained his original academy application. Pidge could forge some fake aptitude scores no problem, some fake medical reports, a fake reference - Using Matt's as a base, she could make some pretty realistic forgeries.

Her problem was going to be a fake identity. Pidge was good, but that still wasn't in her bag of tricks.

...Well, she was going to have to run this plan by her mother at some point anyway.

"You want to what?" She asked, stunned.

"It makes sense," Pidge said. "If you're in a Garrison building, you're already halfway through their security."

"I'm not disagreeing with the theory, but this is a bit of a leap from firewall breaking."

Mom's face was already creased. She didn't like the idea, something Pidge had to change stat, before she set her opinion in stone.

"The way I see it," Pidge said. "We can stay here hammering away at the same problem for who knows how long, and maybe get through before we die of old age. No guarantees. Or, I go to the academy, bypass the brick issue altogether, and get the logs before we know it."

"Little simplified, isn't it? It would still take time in the academy. More than out here, by some metrics, since you'd have to go to class, or you'd get kicked out and the whole thing would be pointless. And also, I wouldn't be able to help you."

"I'm not saying it'll be easy."

"I, however, am saying that its too risky. Even if we make a foolproof false identity, you still look like you, and getting caught could get you charged with treason."

"I can cut my hair."

"Not my point-"

"Look," Pidge said. "With the situation as we understand it, going to the academy will work. I'm not as fast as you are, but I can get through a firewall. Given a little time, a lot of firewalls. Even if I can't make progress during the day, I'd only need an hour or so a night to get stuff done in a few months."

Her mother was quiet for a moment. "I just don't like the idea of you going there, you know?"

And suddenly the situation weighed down on Pidge's shoulders.

"I know. I get it. But you don't have to like it. Matt... Matt was safe in the academy. He was only in danger when he went to space, and cadets don't go to space. I'll be okay."

"At least I won't be going to space. That's not a high bar for my daughter's safety."

"Its achievable, though."

"I suppose you're right." Her mother sighed. "Katie, you do know what you're signing up for, right? This isn't likely to be a fun time."

Pidge wasn't likely to have fun any time soon regardless, so that seemed like a moot point.

"I do," She said. "I mean, of course I'd rather stay here, but it'll be worth it if we can get justice."

"...Alright then."

In the weeks preceding Pidge's entry to the academy, there was a lot of work to be done.

Pidge took care of a lot of the application herself, but making a convincing fake idenity took her mother many, many hours. Probably more than were necessary, but she was being very thorough. Eventually, 'Pidge Gunderson' came to life, complete with matching birth certificate and national insurance number. Pidge was a boy, two years older than Katie, at 16 years old. He was from some random american town that Pidge should probably learn the name of. And he didn't have siblings.

...That was going around.

Now, the only thing missing from Pidge's academy application was a picture.

Pidge stood in front of the bathroom mirror, scissors clutched in her hand.

She wouldn't say she was overly attached to her hair. In fact, most of the time it was annoyingly in the way. But it still felt nice to tie it up and let it down. Felt hers.

Still. Needs must.

Pidge cut her hair, a bit choppily, getting half of it in the bin and half of it in the sink and on the floor. She didn't have much of a plan going in, so she looked in the mirror to see her progress.

She felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. Of course, she wasn't blind to the family resemblance, but with her hair short... She hadn't realised just how much she looked like her brother.

Pidge looked at the bathroom shelf. There, tucked safely away somewhere high, were Matt's glasses.

"I don't actually want to keep your loser glasses."

"I'm coming back, pigeon."

Liar, she thought.

Pidge picked them up, weighing the frames in her hands for a moment. Then she put them on.

The person in the mirror didn't look like Katie Holt. But she hadn't felt like her in a while, either.

Chapter Text

It was late when Pidge arrived at the Galaxy Garrison academy.

In two ways. It was nearly 10pm, because Pidge Gunderson lived in the middle of nowhere and transport was slow. But she was also cutting it fine with the deadline for new cadets until the next open period, which was months away.

It wasn't ideal to stand out by being the last cadet in, but unavoidable under the circumstances. Gunderson's excuse was that he'd only just had his sixteenth birthday. Younger cadets were admitted under exceptional circumstances, but almost all new cadets were between sixteen and nineteen.

Near the entrance, Commander Iverson checked over her ID. She wondered if he did that for every cadet.

"Gunderson," He said, handing it back. "Decent technical grades. Less so on the flight sim. You don't want to be a pilot, do you?"

"I do not."

"Good. Everyone wants to be a pilot. But we're hurting for more comms officers."

I wonder why, Pidge bit back.

"You'll have a bit of catch up to do. Classes started a week ago. Your bunkmate might help you, if you ask nice."

"Will do." She would not.

Another officer walked up to Iverson, handing him something. Iverson looked it over, then held it out to Pidge.

"Your security badge. You won't be getting in your room without it."

It seemed less of a badge, more of an ID on a lanyard. Pidge Gunderson's face looked back at her, together with various identification information and his rank: Junior Cadet.

Iverson left after that, the other officer pointing Pidge in the direction of the barracks, and then she was left to fend for herself. Showing her around was probably too much effort for this time of night, which was just fine with her.

Pidge walked along the corridors, searching the numbers on the wall for the right one, thinking about the bunkmate issue. She'd been aware she'd be sharing a room, but on her list of things to prepare for, it had been low priority. Pidge wasn't thrilled about the idea of sharing her space with a stranger, but she'd make it work. Its not like she had to talk to them much. Hopefully, they'd be on the same page and keep to themselves.

Sound echoed as she knocked, seeming louder than it was in the evening quiet. There was some amount of shuffling, before the door clicked and her bunkmate opened it.

"Hi?" He said, looking confused and a little tired.

"I'm your new bunkmate." Pidge said.

"Oh!" The boy seemed to gain energy. "That's great! I thought it was just going to be me. Come in! I'm Hunk, by the way."

...Oh no. He was friendly.

Pidge walked into the room, dropping her duffle on the ground. It was smallish, just a bit of walking space between the bunk beds and the two desks.

"The top bunk is free, is that's alright with you?" Hunk asked.

"That's fine."

"Cool! I know a lot of people prefer the top bunk, but I tried it once and nearly fell off the ladder coming down. Its like they make those things to be tripping hazards! And they're too tall, but that's a different problem.

...Talkative, as well.

"Maybe its worth it for the privacy or the view, not that there's much of one in here, but I prefer to get up in the morning without an obstacle course."

Pidge threw her duffle onto her bed and climbed up with her backpack. No way was she throwing around her computer.

"Maybe I'm not much of a morning person, but at least I haven't been late to class, unlike some of our classmates. What about you, are you a morning person, uh...?"

"Pidge."

"Pidge! Like a pigeon. Your parents like birds?"

"As much as anyone else."

"Right... So, what position are you aiming for? Pilot?"

"Comms."

"Neat! I'm hoping for engineer, so maybe we'll be on the same team!"

"Maybe."

"Do you know where the classrooms are yet?"

"No."

"I can show you before breakfast tomorrow, if you like? The map we get isn't very helpful."

Pidge hadn't had a chance to look at it much, but that seemed about right. If Hunk could help her skip the time consuming getting lost process, she'd be stupid to turn him down.

"That would be helpful. Thank you." She said.

"No prob! Ah, I suppose you've been travelling today, huh? Tired?"

"Sure."

"I'll let you sort yourself out then. We can talk tomorrow."

Offer, or threat?

Pidge set about unpacking. Her backpack remained largely untouched, just taking out her headphones. She had one drawer under the bunks for her clothes, which she haphazardly dumped them in to. She only had a few outfits. Once she was issued some uniforms, civilian clothes would be a lot less necessary.

Her only other storage was her desk. Hunk's was an organised mess, stuff piled up around a small area for his laptop. Pidge dumped her notebooks and pens on top of her desk, and opened the drawer. She didn't have much to put there, just her phone charger, some plasters, and her hairbrush. Her toothbrush and such would live in her bathroom bag. Speaking of...

"Hunk?" The boy looked up. "Can you point me toward the bathroom?"

"Of course!" He said. "The big one with the showers is down the far end of the hall, but there's a smaller one three doors down toward where you came from, if you don't need that."

Pidge walked down to it, looking at each room she passed, wondering if that was the one Matt had slept in.

As she brushed her teeth, Pidge mentally prepared herself for the next day.

She wouldn't start looking through the systems for a few days, suspiscion would be highest at this point. In the meantime, she'd look around for somewhere to work from, since she couldn't do it out in the open and her room wasn't looking likely. And, of course, go to class.

Pidge knew the broad strokes of how it would go. New cadets spent a few weeks on general training and assessment before being allocated a specialisation and put on a team. That general training would likely consist of fitness, protocol, and some subject knowledge. Fitness wasn't Pidge's biggest strength, but hopefully she wouldn't be the only one. The other things she'd be okay with. Garrison protocol and policy was as familiar to her as reading, and her grades were pretty good, if she did say so herself.

Her biggest problem would be her fellow cadets: Teenagers were nosey, and Pidge was the new boy. How to get them to stay away without pissing them off...

Pidge had severely underestimated the difficulty of fitness training.

She'd followed Hunk to the right gym after breakfast, where Commander Iverson had shown up and immediately set them doing laps. That was bearable, but then they moved straight into push-ups and sit-ups, and Pidge started dying.

It was somewhat comforting that next to her, Hunk was also struggling. It became a lot less comforting when they moved onto kettle bells and he lifted them like it was nothing.

In fact, once Hunk got into his rhythm, he was one of the best in the group. The only thing he seemed to struggle with rope climbing. At least he didn't fall to the ground, unlike that poor, loud blue-eyed boy.

Still, everyone was sweating by the time Iverson called an end to the session.

"Pathetic, the lot of you!" He said, cadets lined up in front of him. "These are the minimum expectations of any member of the Garrison! The only good thing I can say is at least there's nowhere to go but up!"

Pidge knew for a fact that her father couldn't have done half of that, even when he was younger.

Everyone rushed through the showers before their next class - Flight theory. Hunk led her to a small classroom, where they read through a textbook and were quizzed on it. Thrilling.

At dinner, Hunk looked at her with a sad expression until she moved tables to sit next to him. Really, it wasn't like he had to sit alone. He'd been chatting with the other cadets all day, he'd be welcome to sit with any of them. But no, he wanted to talk to Pidge.

Well, he was welcome to talk. Didn't mean she'd talk back.

"We don't always have Iverson for training," Hunk was saying. "Pretty unlucky you got him on your first day. Or lucky, if you're really into exercise."

"Hmm."

"I get the feeling you're not."

What gave it away?

"Most of the instructors are cool. Professor Davis handles most of the techy stuff, Commander Dorian lectures us on protocol, though sometimes he adds a cool story at least, General Ainsley does fitness when Iverson doesn't... Oh, and we had Professor Wright that one time we were allowed near the flight sim. He's hella grumpy, which is unfortunate because I think he's meant to teach us more after we specialise."

Pidge had already forgotten all those names.

"Do you want to play some games in the rec room after we eat?"

"No." It was bad enough that she was busy all day. She had to do the groundwork for infiltrating the system at some point.

"...Oh, okay then."

The first week was strange.

Day-by-day, the rest of it went similarly to her first day. Hunk kept saying she'd get used to the fitness training, but that hadn't happened yet. Theory lessons weren't anything Pidge was unfamiliar with, so they were okay, at least. The other cadets eventually stopped introducing themselves, whether it was because they got the message that she didn't want to talk or because they figured she remembered their names by now (She didn't, for the record).

Mostly, it was strange because of Hunk and her mother.

Mom, because she hadn't spoken to her in that time. Pidge could hardly remember going longer than a day or two without seeing her mother. But hacking the Garrison's system would be risky enough. Outgoing signals to someone they were probably already watching closely? Forget it. Contact was going to be rare. Pidge had known that going in.

Hunk, because he was Hunk.

He wasn't the worst roommate. Not that Pidge had had many. He didn't mess with her stuff or leave rubbish lying around, and he closed the door quietly when he entered.

Pidge was used to sharing a room. She hadn't thought it would bother her. But Hunk was unignorable, loud in a way that Matt never was.

At night, she'd lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She'd wonder if Matt had the top bunk or bottom bunk when he was here. And Hunk would snore, or bang his head, or get up to go to the bathroom, and she'd be abruptly reminded there was someone else in the room.

She didn't dislike Hunk. He'd been nice to her and he seemed a decent guy, so she had nothing against him, really. He was just a constant reminder that the person she'd always shared with wasn't here.

On the last day of the week, they were directed to a large room, and put in random pairs to build a bridge that would take their weight. And then they switched pairs and did it again. It was a pretty transparent personality test.

A few days later, Iverson and the rest of their instructors gathered the cadets together.

"You are all still pathetic," Iverson said. "But not quite pathetic enough to get the boot, so today we will be assigning your roles and teams. There will be no complaining, understand?" He glared around the room.

He started reading out names, calling them to the front. Dorian would hand them their badge and uniform, and they'd be sent back to the line.

"Garrett, Hunk. Gunderson, Pidge. McClain, Lance. Step forward."

Well, at least Hunk would be happy.

Dorian pressed badge's into their hands. Pidge stared down at hers, the cresent-shaped bronze horribly familiar. To her left, Lance practically started vibrating.

"Engineer, comms, pilot. No switching." Iverson said, gesturing to each of them in turn. "You have been put together under the belief that your skills and personalities compliment each other. Do not drag your crew or the Garrison down."

Pidge looked at Iverson's face, and wondered if he'd said the same thing to Matt.

That evening, Lance decided to bother her.

"Come on, we're a team now! We need to team bond! Its rec room time!" He attempted.

"Yeah, Pidge doesn't really do the rec room." Hunk said.

"...Well, we can go to the gym, then?"

"I'm busy." Pidge said. She was. She hadn't cracked the Garrison system yet, but she'd found a window she could climb through to get to the roof, and she'd been working up there most nights. She couldn't just skip a night of work to hang around playing table football.

"Pidge," Hunk said. "Pidgey. Pidgehead. Its our first day as a team! Please?" And looked at her with that sad face.

Pidge resisted the urge to sigh. To be fair to them, these people didn't know what she was doing. They probably thought she was busy playing videogames or something.

"One hour." She said. It wasn't a lot. Nonetheless, Lance whooped loudly, making her regret it instantly, and dragged her along by the arm.

As teammates went, she could have done worse. Hunk was familiar, nice, and largely competent. Lance, though not a stand out in class, wasn't bad either, and he wasn't as obnoxious like some of the other cadets.

Still, was it too much to ask for quieter teammates?

Pidge pulled her jacket tighter. It was cold on the roof, owing to the wind and you know, the general 'being outdoors at night' thing.

In front of her, she had her laptop set up, wire running from it to her antennae. A wired connection would be faster, but a little impractical given the location. Still, wireless in a Garrison base was better than she'd been working with before.

Working locally was a bit different. She'd gotten used to routing through certain networks and signals, whereas now she just had to hide her connection and use it like normal. Well, not normal for a cadet, but still.

That didn't mean things weren't classified, though. She could find certain files, but she couldn't access or decrypt them without some effort. And unfortunately, they weren't named helpful things like 'What_the_garrison_is_hiding.docx'. So she had to figure out which files were relevant before she could do much of anything.

Pidge sighed, rubbing her eyes. It was nearly midnight at this point. She should go to bed. But she hadn't made any tangible progress tonight, and that was just... just....

Pinned at the corner of her screen, corners slightly wrinkled, was a picture taken the day the Kerberos mission launched. Her father, Matt, Bae Bae, and herself. Everyone looked happy.

Where do you get off, smiling like that? Pidge thought, staring at herself.

Her fingers gripped the edges of her laptop, ready to close it for the night. But she looked at her family's smiles, and some ugly thing gripped her throat.

...Just a little longer.

"Have you guys heard?" Lance asked, sitting next to Pidge and Hunk at breakfast. "We're doing the flight sim today!"

"Huh? Are you sure?" Hunk asked.

"Who even told you that?" Pidge added.

"Doubters, the both of you! Its on our official timetable!" Lance produced the paper with a flourish. "See?"

He was right. He'd also clearly taken the communal timetable from the noticeboard, since no one needed a paper version when they could view it on their phones.

"Hell yeah!" Hunk said. "I'm sick to death of watching demo videos!"

"Time to show them what team Lapidgunk can do!" Lance said.

"...Keep working on that." Pidge said.

"Harsh."

"Ah," Hunk said. "I've just realised that means we have Professor Wright again."

"The grumpy one?" Pidge asked. Hunk nodded.

"You know, I was speaking to some of the senior cadets," Lance said. "Apparently he wasn't always like that. A bit strict, but not grumpy-mc-grumpface. I'm told that he's been acting off since the Kerberos thing."

I know the feeling, Pidge thought.

"I guess that makes sense," Hunk said. "He works for the Garrison, he might've met the crew. Those poor guys..."

Pidge stared at her plate.

"Its not like I don't empathise," Lance said. "But I still wish our intructor didn't look at me like he hates me."

"Tad dramatic, Lance."

"He does!"

"He looks at everyone like that. He can't possibly hate all of them."

Nonetheless, Pidge understood what Lance meant when they got to the flight sim room.

She also understood why he'd changed after the Kerberos mission. He was the man from Admiral Sanda's meeting.

Pidge didn't wear Matt's glasses to training anyway, but she also messed her hair a bit. Don't look too close, she thought.

"If you think you know what you're doing because you've studied your textbooks, you're wrong," Professor Wright said, walking up and down the line of cadets. Pidge risked a glance at him and noticed two gold stripes on his uniform, which was strange because she was sure Sanda had called him commander-

"If you think you know what you're doing because you've used a flight sim before, you are also wrong. The Garrison's flight simulator is state of the art and replicates real flight as closely as possible - And real flight is both unforgiving and something you cannot learn without doing."

Next to Pidge, Lance shuffled nervously.

"You will all make mistakes today. That is a fact. You will not make excuses for them or we will have a problem, is that clear?" He stared down the cadets.

"Yes sir!" Was the group response.

Pidge's team wasn't first, thank god. They stood to the side and watched Griffin and his crew get a rolicking.

"Oh my god," Hunk whispered. "I think he's worse this time."

"And you said he didn't hate me!" Lance whisper yelled. "Did you see that death glare?"

"If its any consolation," Pidge muttered. "We'll give you a nice funeral."

"Its not. But thanks."

"Don't feel bad Lance," Hunk said. "He was looking at all the pilots that way."

"Oh, yay. So my horrible death won't be personal."

Their time in the simulator came. Wright's gaze burned into the side of Pidge's head as she entered, heart rate rocketing.

Lance vocally counted out the pre-flight checklist, and Hunk and Pidge called back as they checked each point off. It all seemed so simple when it was written down, but when everyone was watching, Pidge's gut twisted with nerves as she tried to remember if she'd forgotten anything.

"Engines green and fuel secure," Hunk announced, ending his list. "Cleared if you are."

"Systems registered, computer online, outgoing signals free," Pidge continued. "Cleared if you are."

"Destination inputted, controls responsive," Lance finished. "All posts clear. Hold for take off."

"Holding." Hunk and Pidge called back.

"Engines firing, four, three, two..." Under their feet, the metal vibrated, shaking as if they were really taking off. It really was fancy.

"Hull integrity strong, fuel contained." Hunk said.

"Signals free."

"Altitude rising," Lance said. "Pitch stable. Comms, are we connected to base?"

"Connection secure. No incoming signals."

"Location check?"

"Consistent."

"Engines, is fuel rate expected?"

"Expected. Sufficient to make it to destination."

For a moment, Pidge thought they might successfully make it to altitude.

"Engines," She called. "Left thruster is unregistered. Confirm?"

Hunk didn't respond, so she turned her head. "Engines, confirm?"

"Comms, is there a problem?" Lance called out.

"Not yet, helm. Monitoring system connection to left thruster is unreliable, but there is no reason to assume a malfunction as of yet."

"Keep me posted."

Pidge ran a another system check, the same problem showing up. Wait, what was she meant to do at this point? There was no significant problem but flying with unknowns was asking for trouble.

Of course, engines were technically Hunk's problem. If only he'd stop ignoring her.

"Engines," She called once more. "Respond."

He didn't. Well, shit. Comms did have the ability to hijack engine controls, but if she did that she'd be responsible for fuel monitoring and everything else as well.

The ship shook some more, and behind her, Pidge could hear retching.

"Engines?" Lance called out. "Are you- Ah, okay Hunk. Uh..."

There wasn't a section in the textbook for what to do when your engineer started puking during flight. Man down was the closest, maybe. But most of that section had been about first aid which Pidge wasn't sure applied here...

"Comms!" Lance called. "Can you, uh, take over?"

"Confirmed?" Pidge said, calling engine controls to her station. "Ah, left thruster stable. Just disconnected from comms."

"Good. Is Hunk, like, okay?"

Pidge craned her neck to look over at him. Hunk was doubled over, small cargo box gripped in his hands as a sick bucket. "He's not dying?"

"I'm okay." Hunk groaned.

"You don't sound it buddy," Lance said. "Have you taken some deep breaths?"

Pidge scanned over the engineering systems, less familiar to her than comms. Engines stable, fuel holding, it all seemed fine.

"Helm, are we still on course?" Pidge called.

"Heading confirmed. Why?"

Because she didn't have time to check their position on the comms system until she finished checking the engines. But that was probably unprofessional. "Just making sure systems are on the same page, helm."

"...Alright then. Engines, do you need medical assistance?"

"It'll pass, maybe..." They hit turbulence and Hunk started retching again.

"I'll be honest, that doesn't sound good." Lance shifted in his seat. "If you're gonna faint, can you give us a warning?"

"I'll do my best, helm."

Pidge hadn't checked comms in a minute, so she did so.

"Helm!" She yelled. "We are way off course!"

"We are?" Lance grabbed his controls.

Ah, shit. Positional drift. The helm system must not be registering properly, and when Lance was paying attention to Hunk, it got worse.

"Correcting position." Lance called out.

"Uh, helm? Nothing changed."

"Well, it should have."

Pidge checked the engines again, and oh shit, they were unresponsive.

"Engines halted," She called out. "Rebooting?"

"Don't ask me, do it!"

Only, the reboot didn't do anything. Neither did anything else Lance tried. Pidge was just getting overwhelmed by the number of warnings and alerts on the screens when the flight sim turned off.

Professor Wright had had enough, apparently.

"I'd say 'At least you got in the air', but given that you crashed, that's almost worse," He said. "McClain, you handled piloting up until something went wrong with your crew, which threw you off. You didn't pay enough attention to your own systems, which I didn't think I had to explain is very important. Great job crashing your ship." Lance stared at the ground. "You are a team, and depend on each other to an extent, but you have to have yourself to fall back on. Be more confident."

"Gunderson," Oh shit. "You couldn't handle both systems at once. You focused too much on one or the other and couldn't divide your attention appropriately. You didn't see system issues until it was too late and couldn't fix them when you did. Its not an ideal position to be in, but you still have to be able to handle it. Learn to multitask."

Hmmph.

"Garrett," Wright continued. "Well, you aren't the first to falter in the heat of the moment. It comes more naturally to some than others." Hunk shifted in embarrassment. "Your team couldn't rely on you. You need to be able to handle the unexpected. And also consult medical. They can likely help you with... that."

Pidge had never been more happy to be dismissed.

They stood to the side, watching the last few groups. "Sorry guys," Hunk said. "I didn't think that would be a problem."

"Its good," Lance said. "We'll get you to medical. Or some ginger. Ginger helps. Yeah, we'll do that. Don't worry buddy."

Pidge fell into a routine. Fitness torture with Ainsley or Iverson. Comms training with Professor Davis. Flight simulator judgement with Wright. And at night, she'd slip out onto the roof and work on the computer systems.

She had the urge to throw her laptop off of the roof. Lance was dragging them to town tomorrow (More 'team bonding'). Pidge wouldn't have agreed, but it would give her an opportunity to contact her mother and update her on her progress.

That was, if she had any. She'd located several files, but she didn't know if they were the right ones until she decrypted them, with took a while for each individual file. She hadn't yet found anything relevant.

Mom won't hold that against you, she told herself, but it didn't make her feel any better.

Pidge, Hunk and Lance got the Garrison shuttle into town. It ran once every two hours, so Pidge set a reminder on her phone. She didn't want to wait around for ages if they missed one.

"So, what first? Shopping? Food? You guys want to see that weird statue museum?" Lance prompted.

"None of us had breakfast," Hunk said. "We're getting food before we even consider statues."

"Fair point. Onwards!"

They grabbed a table in a little cafe, and ordered hot drinks and some pastries before Pidge dashed off to the bathroom.

In the cubicle, she dug around in her backpack for her spare phone. There was only one number programmed into it.

It only rang once before her mother picked up. "Katie! How are you? Is everything alright?"

It had only been about two months, which hadn't seemed so long to Pidge, but she abruptly felt a little guilty. "Everything's fine, mom. Its just hard to contact you securely."

"Yes, I know. I expected that, I just... nevermind. How's class?"

"Its, class? Anyway, I've got into the system, but actually decrypting the files takes a while."

"With just your laptop too, not an ideal amount of computing power. Well, can you get hold of an external hard drive? If you host the files there, you could leave the basic decyptor running during the day. Wouldn't open it completely, but it would save you a little time."

"That would be easier-" Some banged on the door. There was only one cubicle, she supposed.

"Pidge, your hot chocolate is gonna go cold! You good in here?" Oh, it was Lance.

"Mind your own!" Pidge yelled back. "I'll be out in a minute!"

"Who was that?" Her mother asked.

"Ugh, one of my teammates. Loud guy."

"Oh, teammates! Do you like them?"

"They're cool, I guess? We're in town right now, which is convenient because there's a computer store here. I can get a hard drive there."

"That's good. What are your teammates' names?"

"Lance the pilot, loud, and Hunk the engineer, also loud but less dramatic. Hunk's my roommate, actually."

"That's convenient. Or inconvenient, is it hard to work with him around?"

"I do most of it on the roof. He's not very nosey, fortunately." Pidge checked her watch. "I probably should go back to them though, or he might get nosey anyway."

"I understand. Keep me posted when you can, and take care of yourself. I love you, baby."

"Love you too mom."

Once they finished their breakfast, Pidge suggested shopping.

"There's a computer store nearby," She said. "I need a part for my drone."

"Drone?" Lance asked. "You have a drone? And didn't tell us? Pidge!"

"It is just a drone."

"Do you have it with you?"

She did, which was fortunate for her cover story. "Yes. Doesn't mean you can touch it."

"Really? You trust me to pilot the ship, but not to touch your drone?"

"You tend to crash the ship, Lance."

"So does everyone!"

"You're not touching my drone!"

They walked over to the store, Lance pouting all the way.

"What part do you need anyway?" Hunk asked. "I thought they came with all the stuff you need."

"Premade ones, sure. But I made Gunther myself, so he's a bit of a patch job."

"...The drone has a name." Lance muttered.

Hunk grabbed Pidge's shoulders, shaking them. "Wait, you made a drone? That's so cool!"

"Uh..."

"Lance, isn't that cool?"

"Would be cooler if I could touch it."

"Ignore him. Pidgey, why have you hidden this from me? Tell me everything! How does it work?"

Tell me all about it, pigeon!

"...Its a drone. Blades spin and it flies. Not that complicated." She said.

"Guy. Whats it made of? How is it controlled? Did you ever crash it? Don't just give us the dictionary definition."

"Or," Lance said. "You don't have to bother, if you let us look at it ourselves..."

"Tell you what, Lance," Pidge said. "I'll let you fly Gunther if you beat me to the store."

Lance wasn't terrible at fitness training. But he sure was slow.

"Wha- Come on!"

Pidge took off, running down the street.

"You're short and light! Unfair advantage!" Lance yelled, running after her.

"Can't hear you over the sound of you not flying my drone!"

Hunk didn't drop it, was the thing.

They arrived back at their rooms after their outing, and as soon as they closed the door, he was speaking.

"Pidge," Hunk said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with the drone thing."

"I wasn't uncomfortable." It was true. She just hadn't wanted to talk about it.

"Well, good! But still, I got the vibe I said something you didn't like. And I don't like to do that, you know?" He sat on his desk chair. "We were meant to be team bonding and everything, and yet I feel like you're mad at me?"

Oh, shit.

"I'm not mad," Pidge said. And, ugh, did Hunk have to have such puppy eyes? This would be easier if she could just tell him to move on. "I just... don't like to talk about my projects." It was half true.

"That's fine! I won't ask. It seems a shame because them I can't tell you how cool you are, but its fine."

"Hunk..." God, Pidge had not accounted for the difficulty of dealing with people when she came here.

So she solved the problem the only way she could think of: Taking Gunther out of her bag and putting it on Hunk's desk.

"Its made of some of an old computer tower, my mom's old phone and random scrap I got cheap at a store," Pidge said, ignoring Hunk's shocked expression. "Its controlled with a games console controller. And I crashed it once." Into the side of Matt's head... accidentally.

Hunk looked like he was going to burst.

"You can talk, Hunk."

"Does it not occur to you that most people can't do that? Don't say it so casually!" Hunk said. "I used an old laptop to make a radio once, and that was hard enough! Do you know what radios don't do? Fly!"

"Theoretically it could. If you don't care about accuracy, just attaching rotors and such would work, and you could even route the control signals through the radio itself-"

"That's what I'm saying! You just say stuff like that as if anyone would, like you haven't noticed how smart you are."

This homework is like, three school years ahead of you.

I can do it!

Oh, I know.

"Whatever," Pidge said. "Fly it, if you want. Don't tell Lance. I'm going... for a walk." To the roof.

"I won't crash it, I swear!"

He probably would. Gunther could take it.

It got dark pretty early at the moment, so Pidge spent longer than usual working at the systems before she had to go to bed. When she did, Hunk was already asleep, snoring away, and Gunther was placed on her desk. Undamaged. Huh.

Pidge climbed into her bunk, lights off and the only sounds being the constant hum of the base, and Hunk.

She wondered if that were a mandate for the builders: All Garrison buildings must hum. Or whir, at a push. No silence allowed.

It must be, because Pidge had never been in one that didn't. And she'd been in a lot. Some only briefly, but many for weeks or months. They all had a slightly different sound, so you noticed it when you first got there, but it blended into the background soon enough. Supposedly. It seemed to take much longer for Pidge than it did for... well.

Pidge had mentioned the sound to Hunk about a week ago. Apparently, he hadn't noticed it since his first night. Some people were blessed.

She stared up at her ceiling, tired from the day. If she closed her eyes, ignored that she was on a bunk, pretended that the humming was more of a low thrum... She could almost imagine she was ten again, asleep on a research base.

There hadn't been snoring there, of course. But... Hunk didn't break the illusion. She'd told her mother he was loud, but he was only relatively loud, really. Maybe she'd focused on that, one obvious difference, because it was easier than thinking about the things that weren't different. The many ways he was like Matt.

Chapter Text

Spacewalk training took place in two different buildings: The zero-gravity room, and the spacewalk pool. They were in the first one today, but Pidge thought it was a misnomer, since there was the same amount of gravity as anywhere else, just with super powerful fans at the bottom.

They had several instructors today, probably just for their first time. Cadets crashing into walls was the most entertaining thing around, Pidge figured. Commander Dorian talked them though putting on their 'spacesuits', whilst General Ainsley lectured them about what not to do and Professor Wright did something technical with the room controls.

"We're starting simple, so even you lot should be able to manage it," Ainsley said. "You'll have two minutes to get used to the sensation, and then you'll be given cargo to move from one end of the room to the other. Don't crash."

Easier said than done. Lance had already dropped his helmet, Pidge's suit wasn't fitted properly, and Hunk, well. He struggled enough when they weren't upside down.

The zero-gravity room was different from the flight sim, in that there was no capacity for cadets to observe each other. Pidge wondered if that was a blessing or a curse. On one hand, the other teams wouldn't see their inevitable flailing. On the other, they didn't get a demonstration beforehand, so they'd make the exact same dumb mistakes.

Pidge's team was up next. Lance made a valiant attempt to encourage them.

"Come on guys, we got this! Hunk's had his ginger-"

"Which tastes terrible, by the way."

"-And Pidge is short, so this should be easier for him."

"Rude??"

"All you gotta do is look cool and they'll think we're great," Lance finished. "So, copy me."

Pidge didn't think he was a great model for 'cool', but she kept that to herself.

They were called in, and Pidge recalled what she knew about spacewalking. The theory wasn't that complicated: Watch your momentum, hold onto something, and try not to spin until you're sick.

Simple, really. It didn't feel that way in practice.

"Pidge! I said copy me!"

"Don't act like you aren't also upside down!"

Pidge hit the wall again, arms braced to avoid smacking her head. Their adjustment period was almost up, and none of them were even near each other.

"Hunk! Grab onto me!"

"Ugh..."

Hunk was floating at the centre of the room, spinning around uncontrollably. Lance was holding the wall, reaching out toward him, but they were still several metres apart.

"Lance," Pidge yelled, kicking herself from the wall. "You'll never reach him like that!"

"Its not like we have rope!"

"Well-" Pidge flailed her arms. She'd kicked too hard, sending herself careening toward the other wall. "Just, hold on, I'll come over and we can both do it."

"Will you do that before tomorrow, or...?"

"Its fine, guys, I'll just kick off the ceiling." Hunk said, shifting himself around to do so.

Something beeped, a panel in the wall opening, revealing a cargo box. Their objective, conveniently on the wall none of them were near.

"Okay," Lance said. "If I get over there, I can throw it to Hunk, who can throw it to Pidge. Easy, right?"

Pidge and Hunk made vague noises of agreement.

"I feel so supported. Get ready!" Lance yelled, pushing himself in the direction of the box.

What followed, Pidge could not adequately describe with words.

Lance sailed across the room, slightly off angle, right up until he was very off angle and crashed into Hunk. They hit the wall, bouncing off it in two different directions. Hunk hit the ceiling, Lance hit Pidge, Pidge flew into the middle of the room. She ended up near the cargo box, flailing wildly to move nearer.

"Okay, I got it!"

"And that was definitely the plan!" Lance said. "Throw it this way!"

Pidge did so, putting all her momentum into it, which also threw herself backwards. The box flew through the air, but Pidge was no baseketball player, and it went in the opposite direction she intended, toward Hunk.

He grabbed it, braced from the ceiling with his legs. "Lance, catch!"

"I got it!"

Lance did not have it. It missed his arms entirely, smacking into his face, cracking his visor.

At least they weren't actually in space.

Though you might've thought they were, going by Ainsley's attitude afterward.

"Awful communication, worse movement, and you've the dubious honour of being the only group to damage Garrison equipment!" She berated, the three of them standing in front of her. "My expectations were low, but they weren't this low!"

Dorian awkwardly looked in the other direction, and Wright eyed them silently. Pidge wondered if he was even surprised.

"Pick up your act next session, cadets. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir!"

They left the building, and Hunk immediately beelined for a bush, retching into it.

"After class ended," Lance said. "You know what that is? Improvement."

In their next flight sim lesson, Griffin's team managed to land without crashing. They were the first ones, but other teams followed suit over the next week or so.

Pidge had never paid much attention to the other teams.

Sure, she had to during flight training, because sometimes they were expected to point out each other's mistakes. And she knew most of their faces by now. But she didn't really think about them. They were just there. Other bodies doing laps, sitting in classrooms. Lance had been the same to her, before they were teamed up.

Now, of course, she actually noticed him during training. As Ainsley ordered them through their drills, he fell behind during laps, as usual.

That was a pattern for team Lapidgunk. Pidge was faster than Lance, but sit ups killed her. Hunk could do them no problem, but couldn't climb the rope. And they all crashed and burned in the flight sim.

Their first lesson in the spacewalk pool went as well as expected: Neither Pidge nor Hunk could swim, and Lance dropped their equipment to the bottom of the pool.

In fitness training, Iverson was agitated.

"Pick up the pace, McClain!" He yelled during laps. Later, "What are you made of Gunderson, paper mache? Push ups are not this hard! Garrett, if you don't get to the top of that rope-"

Wright was not as loud, but no less scathing in his critique.

One cadet made the mistake of telling him that. "Sir, we're trying!"

Wright stared at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, am I being too harsh? Does anyone else feel that way?"

Everyone found themselves looking literally anywhere else in the room.

"In that case," Wright said. "I'll tell you what a good job you're doing and write you a note. To give the Galra. 'Please don't shoot this officer's ship, he's trying his best!' "

The atmosphere tensed with the mention of the Galra.

"I hope you're all aware, since you're here at the Garrison, that you'll be fighting Galra one day." Wright said. "I thought that was obvious. But maybe it wasn't, if you're more concerned that it doesn't feel good to be told what you're doing wrong."

The cadet hadn't looked up from the floor.

"Fortunately, if I don't believe you have what it takes, you'll be gone from here, and will never fight them. You can go home and complain about your mean instructor and do something easier," Wright finished. "For the rest of you, we'll continue with class and maybe you'll avoid crashing for once. Next team, step forward."

Pidge had never been more grateful it wasn't them.

Pidge was in most Garrison systems by now. Cameras, door control, anything local was easy. But the files she was looking for weren't just restricted from outsiders, it seemed like they weren't meant to be accessed by most Garrison officers either. Which meant that file names had only gotten less helpful, and encryption more complicated. She had most of the database downloaded at this point, so progress was faster than if she had to work through the network constantly, but still.

She'd found more correspondence from after Kerberos, a few weeks back, and sent it to her mother. It was something. But not what she needed.

Pidge sat on the roof with her headphones on, cross legged, brute forcing another file at two in the morning. A late night. Too late, really, but it had been months.

She'd memorised Matt's personnel file by now, including his academy notes. Significant struggles with spacewalking. Pidge could empathise. Flight sim successful after six weeks. Pidge's team had been trying for ten already.

...Matt wasn't much of a hacker. Breaking firewalls didn't interest him. So Pidge shouldn't feel like he'd have the files already, and yet...

Dad wouldn't. Matt might. But Mom definitely would. Yet it was Pidge that was here, taking her sweet time whilst the Garrison pretended her family didn't exist.

Her hand smacked the tiles, frustration gripping her. Goddammit.

Warnings flashed across Pidge's screen, another simulated ship crashed. Wright seemed almost out of things to say.

"Cadets," He said. "Are you aware assessesment is approaching? It doesn't look good for you."

Next to Pidge, Lance tensed.

After all the teams finished, Wright addressed them as a group.

"There has been improvement since you started. You have a long way to go, but I can no longer describe you as hopeless. Take that as you will." He said.

"Not every cadet becomes a Garrison officer. If you don't meet expectations, there are many who would kill to take your place." Wright's eyes lingered on Pidge's team, too long for her comfort. "You are all observed by us, your instructors, to decide if the Garrison is where you belong. If you want to stay, put your best foot forward."

The cadets spilled into the corridor, splitting off in their usual directions. Pidge followed Lance to the barracks, where they'd usually separate, but he just leant his head against the wall.

"Lance?" She asked. Beside him, Hunk sat on the ground.

"Well, that's it, we're done." Lance said, muffled. "Wright hates us and so do the others, and who can blame them? We suck."

This was where Hunk would usually pipe up and tell him that wasn't true. He didn't.

"I'm not sure why I thought I could do this," He said instead. "I- The Garrison is great, you know? They were always around when I was growing up, and I just- For some reason I thought I could be one of them. Pretty dumb, right? I just puke all the time."

"Hey," Pidge said. "Uh... Not all the time?" She felt suddenly out of her depth.

"Don't worry about it Hunk," Lance said. "I barely qualified to begin with, you know? My flight scores were just okay. It only makes sense that I'd flunk out."

"Guys," Pidge said. "No one's flunked out."

"Not yet," Hunk said, gloomily. "But you saw Professor Wright. He won't have any praise for our reports. Its just a matter of time."

Pidge hadn't come to the academy to go any further. But her teammates had. It belatedly occurred to her that graduating must be important to them.

"No, its not," Pidge said. "Hunk, get up. Lance, get off the wall. We're not out yet and some guy saying we suck is no reason to give up."

"Pidge," Lance said. "We do suck. Has any other team crashed as much as us, or been yelled at so much by Iverson?"

"Screw the other teams! They're not magically better than us! They sucked as much as we do to start, if they can be better, so can we."

"Yet, we're not."

"Pessimism doesn't suit you. Remember our first flight sim? We crashed for like five different reasons! Lately, its been one, two at most! What do you call that?"

"..."

"What do you call that, Lance?"

"...Improvement," Lance complied. "But-"

"No buts! When I first got here, you were falling off of the rope in fitness training! Now you get to the top every time! Hunk, you were terrible at laps, now you do them like its nothing! Guys, we're already better!"

"And we're already the worst team!" Lance said. "What, you think we'll get good enough in the next couple of weeks when we haven't this whole time?"

"Not with regular training," Pidge allowed. "But that's why we're implementing exclusive team Lapidgunk training."

"...Still needs work." Hunk said.

"It does."

"Wait," Lance said. "You want to do extra training? You?"

Pidge didn't think he needed to sound that disbelieving.

"Yes, me! Now lets get to the courtyard already! Pick up the pace, and someone take over this pep talk because it does not suit me."

Hunk smiled slightly, which was victory enough. "I don't know, Pidgey. That was pretty good."

"Courtyard!"

As a rule, Garrison cadets didn't have hours upon hours of freetime in a day. What they did have, Pidge's team used to its full potential.

"Faster, Lance!" Pidge yelled, stopwatch in hand. "What are you, a turtle?"

"Turtles live in water and they're very fast, actually!" Lance said, finishing his lap. His shoes scraped against the courtyard floor, empty and a little creepy this time of night. "The word you're looking for is tortoise, Iverson-wannabe!"

"Can't hear you over the sound of a slowpoke!"

Nearby, Hunk was doing a handstand against a wall. Allegedly, this was nausea training. They'd see if that was true on the rope tomorrow.

They were on a time crunch, so extra training was devoted to their weak points. Pidge felt like she'd been doing sit ups for hours - Her core certainly felt like it. Currently she was on her break, giving her time to bother the others.

"If you beep that stopwatch at me one more time, I swear-"

Of course, fitness wasn't the only area they were falling short in. Fortunately, Pidge had a plan for the rest. One evening, after the other cadets had mostly retired to bed, she, Lance and Hunk crept down the corridors.

"There's no way this will work," Lance whispered. "The doors will be hella locked! And we can't turn it on ourselves anyway!"

"Plus we could get caught!" Hunk added. "Did anyone think of that? None of this matters if we get kicked out!"

Honestly, they were such worriers. Pidge took out her laptop as they reached their destination, using her door access to open it without any fuss.

"What, did you think I didnt plan for this?" She asked, ignoring the shocked expressions.

"Wha- Pidge, did you hack the Garrison?" Lance asked as they slipped through the door. "That's way worse than breaking curfew!"

"Of course you did," Hunk said. "Typical Pidgey. Cool..." He caught Lance's eye. "And bad, obviously! Don't do that!"

Pidge ignored them, already navigating to the simulator controls - Making sure to hide her activity, of course.

"Okay," She said. "All set. I'll start it from inside."

They were bad at the flightsim. But Pidge hadn't been making anything up when she said they'd gotten better - They just needed some more opportunity to practice. No one was using it right now anyway.

"Engines green and fuel secure. Cleared if you are."

"Systems registered, computer online, outgoing signals free. Cleared if you are."

"Destination inputted, controls responsive. All posts clear. Hold for take off." They finished their pre-flight checklist, but that was the easiest part.

Pidge watched their position like a hawk as Lance flew, knowing that things would spiral out of control if either of them dropped the ball on that one. The floor rumbled under the feet, now a familiar feeling.

"...Comms... Confirm engine connection..." Hunk sounded awful, but at least he was speaking.

"Confirmed. All thrusters green."

"Engines," Lance called. "Response from right thruster is weak. Confirm?"

"I hear you, helm." Hunk was quiet for a few moments. "Fuel allignment issue. I've refreshed the valve, how is it now?"

"All good, engines."

They crashed shortly after. But that was what practice was for.

...They also crashed in actual flight sim training the next day. No one looked surprised.

Some nights they went to the spacewalk pool. They couldn't use the zero gravity room, not without risking a technical screw up and breaking their necks. But Lance could swim, so he acted as lifeguard whilst Pidge and Hunk tried to figure out how to float.

"Human bodies float! That's physics! Just spread out your arms - Yes like that. Now- No, not like that!"

Lance was a good lifeguard, but not a great teacher, if Pidge was honest.

It was surprisingly easy to get used to their new routine. Not physically - Pidge's body had never hurt this much, and exhaustion was a constant companion. Her late night (early morning) hacking sessions weren't helping. She'd skipped a few nights to catch up on sleep, but she could only do that so many times, and she felt bad enough about it that she usually stayed up later the next night anyway.

But other than that, they got used to it. They'd skip studying before dinner, something that might've been ill advised if academics weren't the only area they were doing well in. Then they'd do physical training after eating, before breaking into somewhere they shouldn't be after curfew.

"Does breaking and entering get worse the more times you do it, do you think?" Hunk asked one night, as they were leaving the flight sim.

"Yes, but technically Pidge is the criminal here. We're just complicit." Lance said.

"Thanks. Such loyalty." Pidge leant against the wall with her laptop, relocking the door and checking she hadn't left any trace.

"If its any consolation, we'll give you a nice trial."

"That doesn't even make sense."

Hunk yawned, leaning against Lance. "Damn, I'm wiped. Almost like there's a reason we're not meant to train all day..."

Lance yawned too, grouching at Hunk for infecting him. Weaklings.

If Pidge yawned too, well, that was irrelevant.

"You know, this isn't what late night practice meant when I was a cadet."

Pidge looked up so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. Fuck.

Professor Wright looked at them, still wearing his uniform at this time of night. Of all people...

"Sir!" Lance started, now wide awake. "We were... Uh..."

Didn't that idiot think of a lie before speaking??

"We were going to the bathroom!" Hunk filled in.

"Yes! That!"

Fucking hell... Pidge had put all that effort into hacking in secret, only to be caught because of her dumbass teammates. Her heart pounded, trying to figure a way out of this.

"All three of you? At this time of night? In the flight sim?" Wright raised his eyebrow. He obviously didn't believe it, and Pidge didn't think he had to rub salt in the wound by questioning them.

"...Lance has a really bad sense of direction."

"Hunk!"

Pidge kept quiet, looking back at Wright. He wasn't angry, but she wasn't sure that was a good thing. He wasn't hot-headed like Iverson, but that never stopped him stinging just as badly.

"We were... studying." Pidge said. It wasn't completely untrue.

"...Sure." Wright said. "You must be very dedicated students. The other cadets say they've barely seen you lately."

"We just... really appreciate the art of learning." Even Lance side-eyed her for that one.

Wright sighed. He looked very tired. "Teach the cadets, they said. It'll be fun, they said. A word of advice - Practice doesn't mean a thing if you're too tired to perform."

He was acting so unlike how he did in class that Pidge didn't know what to say. Fortunately, Lance took over.

"That's so right! Which is why we will be heading straight to bed!" Lance shoved Hunk in the direction of the dorms.

Or unfortunately. Did he really think that would work?

"Not so fast." In the following silence, Pidge held her laptop so hard she thought it might break. "Which of you can tell me the Garrison's mission statement?"

"Huh?"

"Take humanity to space, see it for what it is, and protect them from it." Pidge said.

"Oh, that sounds cool."

"It does, doesn't it? Noble. Do you three believe in it?"

Pidge had, once. These days, it rang hollow.

"Of course we do!" Lance said, despite apparently only learning of it three seconds ago.

"Why else would we be here?" A poor choice of words from Hunk, seeing as 'here' was currently violating curfew.

"...Good." Wright said, weirdly. "Keep doing that. And add sneaking around to your list of skills to practice." Then he walked away.

What the fuck?

Lance grabbed Pidge and Hunk's arms and dragged them down the hall. They nearly fell into Pidge's bunk room, barely managing not to slam the door behind them.

"My life flashed before my eyes!" Hunk cried, collapsing onto his bunk. "Man, I've puked a lot of times..."

"What was that?" Lance said, waving his hands. "Did he really not report us?"

"Lance, how did you not know the mission statement?" That's what Pidge's brain was focusing on, apparently. "Why did you even apply without knowing that?"

"You don't have to know the mission statement to know that the Garrison does, Pidge! Which is fighting the Galra and being really cool!"

Pidge pressed a hand against her face.

"Never mind that!" Hunk said. "We nearly died!"

"He's not an axe murderer, buddy."

Pidge's hands were shaking. She dropped into her chair, trying to calm her racing heart. That was really too close... She nearly felt sick thinking about telling her mother that she'd fucked up the mission, that she'd failed her family.

"Pidge?" She looked up to see Lance sitting in Hunk's chair. "You good?"

Pidge nodded.

"Okay then. I kinda didn't expect this to bither you. Mr-hacks-the-door-system-like-a-badass and all."

"That doesn't mean he wants to get kicked out." Hunk said.

"I'm just saying, he's already flying close to the sun."

"I guess you don't want my help for team practice, then." Pidge said, getting herself together.

"I didn't say that! Do your icarus thing as much as you like!"

These were the guys she nearly got caught for, huh?

"I should get back to my room." Lance said, eventually.

"Yeah, unless you want to top-tail with Pidge." Hunk said. "Which I don't recommend, by the way. He moves around a lot."

"Okay, Mr Snorer."

"...I earned that." Hunk allowed. "Anyway, g'night Lance. Don't wake Griffin."

"You know what? Now I'm gonna wake him, just cause you said not to."

Wright was his usual self in class the next day, no mention of the incident in the night. He really was letting them off. Pidge wouldn't have expected thwt from such a strict instructor.

"McClain! Are you trying to crash your plane?"

Ainsley was no less harsh in fitness training.

"Keep up, Gunderson! At this point I'm almost impressed at how you refuse to get stronger!"

In comms training, Davis didn't yell, which gave Pidge's ears a break. But she did get distracted from her own lecture and start a debate over the phoenetic alphabet.

Pidge's classes were familiar in their sameness. Unfortunately, so was her hacking.

She sat on the roof, laptop held with cold hands. Her eyes ached from looking at her screen, taunting her with every decrypted file that turned out to be useless.

There were many things to find in the Garrison's systems. Pidge didn't care about any of them, not when they didn't relate to her family.

She pressed her head into her knees, ignoring the screen flickering with code. She had to find something soon. It had been months, and with assessmemt coming up, her days here could be numbered.

The file she was decrypting turned out to be from the catering department. Pidge fought the urge to throw her laptop off the building.

Pidge laid on the courtyard floor, panting up at the sky. Her arms were on fire, having just finished her push ups.

Some people exercised for fun. Freaks.

Hunk sat down next to her, putting his head between his knees as he took several deep breaths. Lance appeared at her other side, stretching out his legs.

"Ugh," Hunk said. "Is this even worth it?"

Very little felt like it was worth it right now.

"Sure it is," Lance said. He sat on the ground. "We do this and get a good grade in being a cadet and boom. Victory."

"Right," Pidge said. "So you can graduate and join the Garrison because they're really cool."

"Yeah, that. Am I wrong?"

Hunk looked up. "I think they're cool. Everyone in the crater does."

Pidge blinked, than sat up. "Wait, you're from the Crater?"

That was ground zero of the Galra attack. The fighting was so bad there that it left, as the name would suggest, an actual crater.

"Yeah. I mean, my parents moved there like a week before everything went down. Probably should have stayed in Samoa."

"Huh," Lance said. "Yeah. Not great timing."

"The worst! My uncle always said they should've just moved back as soon as things calmed down, but... All the residents there were struggling, and my mom believes the most important thing in life is to be there when people need you."

"That's... She sounds great." Pidge said.

"My mom thinks the most important thing is not leaving dishes in the sink." Lance said.

"Oh don't worry, that's her second priority."

Lance laughed. "So is that why you're here, then? Making your mom proud?"

"I think she would've preferred I stayed at home, actually."

"What about you, Pidge?" Lance asked. She turned to look at him. "Why are you here?"

Maybe it was the night air. Or the ache in her muscles. Pidge wasn't sure what to blame.

"I... My dad and my brother were in the Garrison." Saying the words almost hurt, and she stared down at the ground.

"Were- Oh." Lance cleared his throat. "Well! Here's to family." He offered up a fist bump.

"Family." Hunk said, taking him up on it.

Pidge didn't say anything, couldn't have if she tried. But her knuckles collided with their hands nonetheless.

"Heading clear. Engines, confirm fuel level?"

"Sufficient till destination, helm."

Pidge's hands danced across the comms console. They were in the flight sim once again, their fellow cadets watching them.

"Helm," She called out. "Incoming signal from base. Last minute change to landing strip."

"I hear you." Pidge sent the coordinates over to the helm console, one eye on her systems all the while.

"All posts be aware, destination approaching. Check for landing."

"Engines green, fuel secure, landing gear operational," Hunk called out. "Cleared if you are."

"All systems clear, computer green, signals free. Cleared if you are."

"Posts clear. Hold for landing."

"Holding."

"Altitude descending. Pitch stable. Landing gear released." Pidge held her breath.

The floor shook, everyone feeling the impact.

"Ground contact!" Lance guided the plane to a stop, the floor stilling with the engines.

Pidge turned to look at Hunk.

"Flight sim, clear." An automated voice rang out.

Hunk looked back at her, wide-eyed.

Wright still had criticisms, of course. But that didn't stop Pidge's heart from screaming, right up until they were finally dismissed into the hallways.

Hunk crashed into her before she could register it, lifting her almost hysterically. "We did it! Oh my god!"

He nearly fell over, dropping Pidge back on her feet. Lance grabbed the both of them, dragging the whole team onto the floor.

"And you guys thought we couldn't do it!" He pressed his hands to his face, laying on his back. Pidge stared at him, grinning like a mad man.

"And you said we suck! Eat those damn words!" Lance looked back at her, looking surprised at something, before smiling brightly.

"Gladly!"

"48, 49, 50! Onto laps, cadets!" Ainsley called. "Even Gunderson finished his sit-ups in a timely manner today! No excuses left!"

Pidge, as usual, felt like she was dying. She didn't feel any different, but somehow she was keeping pace with the others.

"Did you forget breakfast this morning, cadet? Even McClain was faster than you!"

Lance waved his arms in celebration, like the idiot he was.

"Go, go, go! Anyone who can't complete a simple course like this doesn't deserve to be here!"

Hunk's arms flexed as he dragged himself up the rope, resolutely not looking down. He reached the top, where he usually had his issues. Then he slid down without even retching.

"Congrats, Garrett, you finally figured out the basic rope." Ainsley moved onto another cadet and Hunk looked at Pidge, looking disbelieving and a little green.

It wasn't like team Lapidgunk was suddenly dominating fitness training. Nor any other class. But day after day, their instructors yelled out at them less and less, almost down to the same amount as their classmates.

"I could hardly believe what I was seeing," Iverson, said, after zero gravity training. "You nearly didn't hit yourselves in the face! Call the papers!"

It turned out that fitness and reduced nausea really helped with floating around.

On the noticeboard in the common room, a piece of paper appeared. It read "Assessment reports available in seven days"

When they saw it, Hunk doubled over, hand over his mouth. Lance took a breath before turning to his team.

"No problem, you guys! We're the best team in town now!" He said, objectively untruthfully.

At night, Pidge tapped away at her laptop as if possessed. She felt like she was close. Several recent files had mentioned the Kerberos mission, though not the parts Pidge needed to know.

Those seven days were torturously slow and over in the blink of an eye. On the fateful morning, Pidge dragged herself to breakfast. She could barely make herself eat, and neither could her teammates.

The cadets were gathered together, like how they had been when allocated teams, except that this time Wright was here.

"Cadets," Iverson said, loud as usual. "Over the past several weeks, your instructors have been observing and recording your capabilities. If you weren't good enough to meet their standards, this will be your last day here."

Hunk grabbed Pidge's hand tightly, staring at the ground.

"Davis will come around with your reports." Iverson gestured toward his colleage, who started walking, arms laden with papers.

Next to her, Lance's breathing picked up. Pidge hesitated a moment, one hand warm and sweaty, before thinking fuck it, and squeezing Lance's with her other one.

There was quiet murmuring as Davis went down the line, paper sounds audible as their classmates opened their reports. Pidge felt every footstep like it was an explosion.

Lance let go of her hand, taking his report in his hands. Pidge and Hunk followed suit, looking down at them, hands frozen.

Pidge readied herself, taking the first page between her fingers. It would be fine. She only needed to pass, not do well.

The first part of the report was Ainsley's. Pidge's sad looking physical stats were listed above her comments.

"Fitness unremarkable. Passable climbing, agility, and speed. Other exercises a struggle. Recommend this cadet is not put forth for physically demanding duties."

It was nothing she hadn't expected. Beside her, Lance and Hunk opened up their reports.

Next was Davis.

"Took to communications quickly. Adept with technology. Can struggle with multitasking. Recommend this cadet remains on comms."

Comms was always going to be her best grade.

Dorian had little to say. "Protocol knowledge adequete. Recommend."

Recommend what?

Pidge flipped to the next page to see Wright's signature, and felt a sense of dread.

Her flight sim clearance rate was listed at the top of the page, and it wasn't pretty. Below it was her comms console specific score, which... wasn't quite as bad?

"Cadet has a tendency to miss critical issues when distracted. Prompt attempts to rectify, but rarely successful. Crew communication is excellent. Ability to handle flight is limited but has improved greatly since first attempt."

Was that... Good?

The final page was Iverson's, who had final say. He commented on each of the subjects before making a final summary.

"Physical fitness is poor compared to Garrison standards, but had improved leaps and bounds since early reports."

"If I tried to transfer this cadet to engineering I believe Davis would quit."

"Cadet has never had an issue with protocols. Rare."

"Early reports were not complimentary for cadet's flight sim ability. They still aren't. However, they have passed it, and instructor has no objections."

Pidge couldn't take her eyes off the page, looking at the bottom of it.

"A cadet with several issues. Has shown sufficient capacity for improvement. Teamwork with their team noted to be above average. Final conlusion: Pass."

Pidge looked right. Hunk looked shocked, holding up another passing report. She looked left. Lance had the same.

"Congratulations cadets!" Iverson boomed. "You haven't flunked out quite yet!"

Ainsley came over to congratulate some of the more physically-adept cadets. Dorian pulled someone up on a uniform issue. Davis caught Pidge's eye, giving her a thumbs up. Wright didn't say anything, just leaning against the wall, but-

"If I don't believe you have what it takes, you'll be gone from here."

Well, 'no objections' was as close to an endorsement as they were going to get.

"Guys," Lance said, almost unbelieving. "We passed." He looked at Pidge and Hunk, before grinning. "We passed!"

"Yeah we did!" Hunk said, and, fuck, Pidge wasn't expecting to feel this pleased about it.

Lance's arm grappled Pidge, shoving her into Hunk's side in a surprise group hug.

"I knew we'd do it all along." Lance said. "That's team Lapidgunk for you!"

"Still needs work." Pidge said.

"That's what they said about us, and look at us now!"

Pidge sat on the roof, rain pattering against the sheet she held over her computer. Her headphones gripped her head tightly, playing each audio file as she decrypted them.

They'd been in a highly classified area, and whilst the contents so far certainly warranted that, it still wasn't what she was looking for.

Pidge tapped away at her keyboard, loading up the next file. There was a click, before some staticky noise indicating a recording or transfer issue.

"-to Garrison. Repeat, Kerberos mission to Garrison."

Pidge fumbled with the sheet, nearly dropping it. Her eyes stung.

"This is Comms Officer Matthew Holt, transmitting mission log." There was some background noise. "Status: Liftoff from Kerberos surface successful. We are readying for departure back to Earth."

Pidge's hands felt numb.

"Comms systems stable. Engines green. Helm checks clear. Pilot Shirogane will shortly set up the autopilot, after which we will not send another log for some time."

"It likely happened shortly after take off." Sanda was a liar. Her family had made it off of Kerberos.

"Officer Holt, signing off-" Matt stopped for a moment. Pidge could faintly hear another voice in the background. "You see what- I'll turn on the scanners. The- Well, its too long. I'll have to send another one after."

Pidge pressed a hand to her face, finding it wet. "Stand by, Garrison. End log."

The audio clicked off. Pidge didn't do anything for a few moments.

It hurt, so much more than she could've imagine, to hear Matt's voice again. Far away, and long gone.

Matt had said he'd send another log. But though she couldn't be certain, Pidge felt it in her heart that he never had.

She played the log again, shoes getting wet from the rain, and face damp for other reasons. This was what she'd come for, but it didn't feel like victory.

Chapter Text

"-Pidgey, look at this one! It looks just like Iverson!"

Pidge's team was on a trip to the local town once again, where Lance had forcibly dragged them to this weird statue museum. She looked at the one Hunk had pointed out. It really did look kinda like Iverson.

"You took your time." Lance said.

"Lance! You're not meant to mention it when people take forever in the bathroom! What if he has diarrohea?"

"Well you're definitely not meant to suggest that!"

Pidge had been a while, admittedly. She'd been sending her mother the files she'd found. A few with communcations about a cover-up, some document with strange readings that Pidge wasn't really sure was relevant, and Matt's last log.

If Pidge was right, that he'd never sent another, then the only thing left to look for now was the telemetry data. He'd mentioned the scanners in the logs - If she was lucky, whatever they'd found would have been sent to Earth before...

Pidge looked at her teammates. "Are we done with weird statues yet?"

"Absolutely not! The tickets cost us the price of a croissant, so we're getting our money's worth?"

"To be fair, the croissants in that cafe cost more than they should..." Hunk mused.

Lance marched them around the rest of the museum. Pidge was treated to such highlights as a statue wearing a witches hat and nothing else, a statue merged with another statue like the human centipede, and three statues next to each other that didn't look weird but had an extremely unsettling vibe when you looked at them.

"...It must be the eyes." Hunk theorised. "I swear they're looking at me."

"No, its the material," Lance disagreed. "It looks strange under the light."

"You're both wrong. Its cause they're actually alive." Hunk shrieked, leaping away, and Pidge snickered.

"Okay! Enough of this dumb, creepy, statue-croissant museum!" Hunk dragged Lance and Pidge out.

It was a sunny day, and Pidge sheltered her eyes with her hand. "So, what now? The next shuttle is in half an hour."

"Ah!" Lance said. "That's just enough time for you to let me fly Gunther!"

"No."

"Yes."

"I don't even have it with me."

"You can't lie to me. I know you carry that thing everywhere." Lance was right. Pidge could feel Gunther digging into her back.

"You still can't fly it."

"Why not? I can land the simulator now!"

"Only sometimes."

"That's what we call improvement!"

Lance did not get to fly Gunther that day. The three of them went to a clothes shop instead, ignoring Lance's pouting.

"Now does this suit me, or does this suit me?" Hunk said, showing off a terrible green headband.

"Uh..."

"Try this one instead." Lance said, handing him an orange one. It suited Hunk much better, and he left the shop with it (paid for, of course).

Lance nearly bought a pair of ugly sunglasses, but fortunately Hunk and Pidge managed to talk him out of it (by stealing them, hiding them, and dragging him to the shuttle stop).

"You guys are so rude." Lance said as they sat on the shuttle. "Whatever happened to team loyalty?"

"That was team loyalty, Lance. It would have been cruel to let you wear those in public." Pidge said.

"Don't worry buddy." Hunk said. "You may have zero fashion sense when it comes to sunglasses, but so long as me and Pidge are here, we'll protect you from yourself."

"Gee. Thanks."

Pidge looked out the window, watching the desert go by. So long as Pidge was here... She wondered how long that would really be.

Pidge packed up her backpack to go to the roof, tucking her laptop alongside various wires and such. Gunther was in the furthest back pocket, not because she actually needed it, but because that was where she stored it. She hefted the bag onto her back, quite heavy with all the electronics and hard drives.

"Off again?" Hunk asked. At some point, she'd stopped waiting for him to go to sleep.

"Yup. See you tomorrow."

It was a familar walk now - Down the hall, turn left, three doors down, along a different hall, into an empty storeroom and out the window. Tonight it was raining, making the window squeak as she opened it. She gripped the handle and window sill tightly as she climbed through, a little slippery.

Pidge's waterproof sheet was already here, weighed down by rocks painstakingly carried up here. She tugged it loose, setting about pinning it up and pulling out her computer.

It was about half an hour before she made progress. The final decryption software finished with a beep, and Pidge looked inside the file.

'=GGE{Kerberos}SHIP-TELEMETRY-68729='

It was telemetry from her family's ship, but from the outward journey. A few files later, however, Pidge found what she was looking for.

Some of the file was corrupted. Not much, though, and hopefully none of the important parts. Pidge skipped past system statuses for the engines and life support and such, seeking out anything from the scanners.

Something caught her eye. The signal receivers had recorded something. It was incomprehensible to Pidge, but something about it was familiar. She searched though her hard drive, looking for... Yes, that document with the strange readings.

Side-by-side, Pidge realised what this was. The readings weren't the same as the signal, but they were similar. Almost like it was being mirrored back on itself.

Now that she knew it was relevant, Pidge scrounged up the accompanying documents to the one she had. They'd been compiled together, sent back and forth between some Garrison higher-ups. Now decrypted, they had some interesting information.

One: The signal from the telemetry had been picked up on Earth too, but far weaker. The Garrison believed that it originated on Earth, in some form they struggled to detect, then was picked up by ??? in space, and reflected back, with unknown cause or reason.

Two: The Garrison had spent all this time trying to find the origin, and had recently managed it. It wasn't all that far from the academy.

Three: They were sealing off said area in a matter of days.

...Shit. If this signal was related to what happened to her family - and it seemed likely - Then she needed to investigate it. Preferably before the Garrison locked it down completely.

"Pidgey!" Pidge jumped out of her skin, nearly sliding down the wet roof, and spun around to see Hunk standing near her.

"Fuck! What are you doing here?" Pidge tried to calm her rapid pulse.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you, I just followed you up here cause you know, its super mysterious how you always dissapear - Well, I say followed, but we kinda lost you halfway and then had to search every room until we found the window-"

"Whatcha doing?" Lance asked, peeking out from behind Hunk. "Hacking some more doors?"

Pidge's brain was frazzled from the combination of weird-mysterious-signal-nearby and sudden teammates in her face. Still, she tried to cover for herself.

"I was... Stargazing."

"With no telescope?"

Well, she tried. "Yes."

"...Pidge, you can tell your teammates anything. We'd help you hide a body."

"Don't say that. He might actually have a body up here." Hunk side-eyed the piled up sheet.

Teammates... Once Pidge investigated this signal, she doubted she'd be able to come back. Nor would she have a reason too, in all likelihood. Maybe that was what loosened her tongue.

"I... You know the Kerberos mission?"

"Yeah. They crashed out there." Lance said.

"That's the thing. They didn't. The Garrison claims there was a problem during take off, but I've found logs from after that point. They got off planet just fine."

"I didn't realise the Garrison had been so specific." Hunk said.

"Wait wait," Lance said. "You found logs? From hacking, presumably? Pidge, that's a bit more illegal than opening some doors..."

"Just listen!" Pidge said. "They didn't lie about the mission for no reason. The Garrison is hiding something. Something big."

Lance and Hunk looked at each other. "Like what?" Hunk asked.

"I... Don't know exactly. But before they lost contact, the Kerberos ship picked up a weird signal, and long story short, it originates on Earth. Near here, even."

"Okay, I'm hardly following," Lance said. "Weird signal from Earth, a ship that crashed but actually didn't, and you here, because... You're nosey? None of this makes sense."

Pidge shoved her things back into her backpack, running out of patience. "I know! Its- It doesn't matter. I'm going to investigate the signal, and that's just- That's just some context. Careful when you go back though the window, its slippery-er that way."

Pidge's best way off of academy ground wasn't through the building, but to climb down the sides and slip out of the cargo gate. She made her way over to where the roof connected to the wider floor below, and readied herself to go down.

"Woah! Pidge!" Lance's hand gripped her arm. "Wait a second! You're going to investigate a weird signal in the middle of nowhere?"

"Before the Garrison seals it off, yeah." Pidge shook his hand off.

"Right, of course. Weird signal in the middle of nowhere that the Garrison is keeping secret and is going to seal off soon." Lance closed his eyes for a moment, before looking at her. "Well, don't be stingy. We're coming too."

"We are?" Hunk asked. "Uh... Sure, why not. Team Lapidgunk sticks together, in fashion and in treason..."

"See? Hunk's in." Lance looked at her expectantly.

Pidge... Shouldn't say yes. Whether or not her teammates could be trusted with this situation was one thing, but if nothing else they didn't really know what they were signing up for.

"...Come if you want." Still... It was hard to bring herself to leave them on the roof.

Climbing down was hard in the rain, and even harder with three people and a backpack. Still, they made it with no broken bones, and slipped out of the academy with a smidge of gate hacking and a touch of tiptoing.

Garrison security was largely based around keeping people out, after all.

"Are we there yet?" Hunk asked.

"No."

A while later - "Are we there yet?" Lance, this time.

"No. You asked to come with me, you know!"

Truth be told, they could easily have missed it if not for the Garrison outpost.

The three of them crouched behind some rocks, watching. It was small, no visible movement. There was a singular truck parked outside the temporary building. Not the sort of presence Pidge would have expected.

"Well, the Garrison are here, so you must be onto something, I guess." Lance said.

"I mean, they're here, but barely." Hunk said.

Pidge took out her antennae and receiver. She wasn't sure she'd hear anything, if even the Garrison struggled to pick up the signal, but she did.

It wasn't the same signal. It was noisy, something Pidge thought at first was static, but then realised it was chatter. She didn't understand a thing, but if it was secured communication that made sense.

Pidge moved her antennae around, seeking out where it was coming from.

"Earth to Pidge? What are you doing?"

"I hear something. This way." They crept around the rocks, hopefully out of eyeline of the Garrison outpost. Then again, it was hard to be certain they were actually watching.

They headed away from the outpost. Far enough that Pidge wondered if it could even be a useful watchtower. Then they arrived at the crest of a hill, and peered over it.

Whatever Pidge had expected to find, it wasn't this.

Figures crept around on the ground below, in and out of various caves. Most of them were armoured, black with red accents. But near the entrance to a cave, there were a few figures with their faces exposed.

Purple faces.

Pidge ducked down so fast her chest slammed into the rock, Hunk and Lance doing the same beside her. Something gripped Pidge's lungs, making it hard to breathe.

The Garrison was responsible for preparing Earth for when the Galra inevitably returned.

Only, they already had.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Hunk whispered. "That's- That's."

"Galra." Lance breathed.

Pidge felt frozen to the spot. Moments passed like that.

"...Galra." Lance said. "Well... What now?"

"We back away, back the way we came, and let the Garrison handle it like they're clearly going to!" Hunk said, insistently.

"Yeah..."

The conversation was enough to jumpstart Pidge's brain. She shuffled backward, shoving her equipment back in her bag and pulling the straps tight.

"Pidge?"

"You two go back." She said. "Once you get back to the outpost its pretty much a straight line past that weird tree. You won't get lost."

"Uh-"

"I'm going to find out why they're here, specifically." The likely answer was that caves were useful shelter, but... Pidge couldn't leave without finding something.

"Are you actually insane??" Hunk asked. "Those are Galra! G-A-L-R-A! You know, the invading aliens?? Earth barely fought them off last time? Massive destruction and terror? You can't just go near them like its nothing!"

"Its not nothing, but I have to go anyway."

Hunk looked like he was going to tear his hair out. "Pidge! You could die! And for what, to find out that Galra just like caves? Who doesn't?"

"That's not it," Lance interrupted. "The caves, I mean. There's something down there. Can't you feel it?"

Pidge met his eyes. Next to them, Hunk buried his head in his hands.

"Oh my god, you've both lost it!"

If they went around the nearest rock spike, they could bypass a lot of the Galra that might otherwise spot them. Pidge and Lance went off in that direction.

"When you say something," Pidge asked. "Is that something you can be a little more specific about?"

"Not really, its just..." Lance shrugged. "Something."

Great.

Lance peered around the rock to check if they were clear. Pidge felt a hand on her shoulder and nearly dropped dead of a heart attack.

"You guys are insane," Hunk said. "But I'm coming with. For some reason..."

Sneaking past the Galra figures was the most terrifying thing Pidge had ever done in her life, including the time she had tell her mother she'd damaged her computer. Lance dashed across first, pressing himself against the mouth of a cave, and motioned for her to follow.

As Pidge crept over, she couldn't help but notice the ship in her peripheral vision. Clearly Galra in design, but notably, it was the only one there. This didn't seem to be an attack force, then... Scouts, maybe?

They took a brief breather with all three of the cave. Hunk was breathing so hard it bordered on hyperventilating. Not that Pidge could blame him. This was, objectively, a fucking insane situation.

"Down there." Lance said, pointing further into the cave. "I think..."

"Oh, he thinks!" Hunk said. "We're sneaking around invading aliens because he 'feels' something down here, so sure, why not."

"Hunk." Pidge said, patting his shoulder. "Do you 'feel' it stronger that way, Lance?"

Asking someone for directions based on bewildering vibes that only they seemed to feel wasn't something Pidge had ever expected to do.

"...I guess? Its hard to explain."

They were no Galra in this cave, but there was evidence they had been, footprints and a few tools lying around. They proceeded with caution. The cave went straight for a little while, before bending back and forth a few times, and opening up - Into a cavern crawling with Galra.

"Ooh-kay." Lance said, as they hid. "That's not good."

"You just had to lead us to Galra central, didn't you?"

Pidge looked out into the cavern. "He didn't, not reallt. It looks like several tunnels intersect here."

"Oh, well that's okay then. Just means we could get attacked from in front or behind!"

"Well that was always a possibility. Its not like we could check if there were Galra already in this cave." Lance said.

"Thanks buddy."

Pidge watched the Galra move around. Some were moving boxes and objects, others were scanning the walls, and a few were gathered in a circle, presumably talking. None of them were that close, fortunately.

Then one of them picked up a box and started beelining in Pidge's direction.

She spun around. "Guys-"

But that Galra wasn't the only threat. Before Pidge could blink, Hunk had been grabbed and pinned to a wall, by a figure that was quiet, fast, and-

Decidely not a Galra. They had black hair, a red motorcycle looking jacket, and, well, they weren't purple.

"Move back, Galra incoming!" Pidge said as loud as she dared, rushing forward. Lance beat her to it, colliding with the new guy and dragged him off of Hunk.

"What-" Hunk looked at her.

"Now! Move!" They scrambled back down the tunnel, toward a bend, before Lance lost his fight with the stranger and staggered back, shaking out his hand.

"He fucking bit me!"

"Well he's clearly a violent guy!" Hunk whisper yelled. Pidge looked back down the tunnel they'd come from, seeing the Galra put down the box just inside the entrance and leave, thank god.

"Okay!" Pidge turned to the group. "They're gone. You!" She pointed at the stranger. "What the hell was that? Are you trying to get caught by the Galra?"

He stared at her, eyes narrowed.

"Woah buddy," Hunk interrupted. "Bad look. As you can see, we are all human here. I assume you couldn't tell in the dark. But now you know."

"He fucking bit me..." Lance muttered.

"Get over it." Hunk said.

"He slammed you into the wall!"

"I care a lot less about that and a lot more about leaving here already!"

"So! New plan!" Pidge said. "We can't get through there without distracting the Galra, but according to Lance we need to. Ah, Lance can feel 'something' in these caves, new guy. We're following the vibes."

"...What." Oh, so he could speak.

"I know how that sounds," Hunk said. "Lance has lost his mind, but we're going with it-"

"Not that. Of course there's something under us. But you can't seriously think you can get past Galran soldiers without being captured or killed."

"What do you mean of course-"

"Ha!" Lance said. "See, this guy can feel it too! I'm not insane!"

"You were just complaining about him biting you, and now you're best buds?" Hunk threw his hands in the air.

"Too right, me and random dude are besties-" Lance put an arm around his shoulder, which turned out to be a mistake.

The stranger flipped Lance over, pinning him to the ground in an insant.

"Woah!" Hunk said. "Hands off the Lance!"

"Seconded!"

"You're right!" Pidge said. "We don't stand a hope in hell of getting through here, but you can fight!"

All three of the others stared at her, with various degrees of bafflement.

"Pidge, what the hell are you talking about?" Hunk said.

"What-" The stranger seemed most confused of all. "Why... What do those things have to do with each other?"

"The plan is," Pidge started. "You and Hunk make a distraction. Hunk can throw heavy things and you can defend yourself if worse comes to worse. Me and Lance sneak through the cave whilst they're not looking, and find the something."

"What a terrible plan," Lance said. "Also, can you fucking get off me?"

"No."

"That really is a bad plan." Hunk said.

"Okay, I hear you," Pidge said. "Plan number two: We charge that big room and hope at least one of us makes it through."

"You're not going anywhere," The stranger said. "Which part of 'Galra soldiers everywhere' is unclear to you?"

"Okay, you know what," Hunk said. "First things first: I cannot keep calling you random guy. What's your name?"

"I'm not telling you that! What's wrong with you people?"

"Oh, Mr attacks-first-asks-questions-never thinks we're weird?" Lance said. "Its a normal question, dude!"

"Second things second!" Hunk continued. "What are you doing here? This is the middle of a desert. We sure as hell wouldn't be here if the Garrison didn't think it was a scenic base location."

The stranger looked at Hunk like he was an idiot.

"Like... Do you live in the desert...?"

"No one lives in the desert, Hunk." Lance said.

"Untrue." Pidge said. "People live in the desert. Especially people with motorbikes. They work well on the sand."

"Huh?" Lance stared at her.

"Does he or does he not look like he rides a motorbike?"

"You're actually so right," Hunk said. "Okay, in the absence of a name, I'm calling you motorbike guy. Who lives in the desert."

"I..." Motorbike guy didn't seem to know what to say.

"Anyway! So what, you came to see what the Galra were doing? Or did you see us and follow us?"

"We were stealthy, there's no way that's it." Lance said.

"Nothing about you was stealthy. You're even being loud now. There'll be a dozen more Galra here in a minute."

"He makes a good point." Hunk whispered. "Everyone be quiet. Any more advice?"

"That's not-"

"So," Pidge said. "Now that we're friends, which plan do we like more?"

"I like the one where we go home."

"Not an option."

"I have a plan," Lance said. "Pidge goes back up and hacks the Galra ship and the rest of us sneak through after, since it is his fault we're here."

"Again, you wanted to come-" Pidge stopped and thought about it. "Actually... Good plan." Pidge couldn't just hack the ship, but she had half a dozen electronic things she could use to wreak havoc remotely.

"Really? I mean, obviously."

"You two wait here. Fighter guy, with me!" Pidge said, running back up the tunnel.

"Wait-" Pidge wasn't sure who objected, but as she neared the mouth of the cave, she heard unfamilar footsteps.

"Good job, you listen better than those two." Pidge said. She crouched down, digging through her backpack.

A hand grabbed her wrist. "You can't just hack a Galran ship."

"Oh I'm not. Obviously."

Motorbike guy looked confused. "You're... Not?"

Pidge supposed that was what Lance had said. "No. That would be dumb."

"...Yeah." He released her wrist. "So what are you doing?"

"Well, not me, as such." Pidge said. She finished reconfiguring her receiver. "You see how most of the Galra are wearing helmets?"

"Yes."

"Well, earlier I picked up a lot of radio chatter, and I figure the mics and such for that are in those helmets. So when this receiver is attached to that ship, it'll resonate and create a sound that interferes with them and distracts most of the Galra with a horrible noise." If this was Earth tech, there'd be easier ways of causing such a thing. But this technology was largely unknown to Pidge.

"You won't make it over there."

"Nope. But you will!" Pidge grabbed the receiver with one hand and motorbike guy's arm with the other, pulling him out of the cave.

"Hey!"

"Lets go!" Pidge was high on adrenaline. That was probably why this seemed like a good plan.

They sprinted across the ground, the ship in Pidge's sights. Halfway there, motorbike guy pulled her to a stop. She wondered why for a moment, before a Galra solider cut in front of them.

"You got this, right?" She asked, slipping away from motorbike guy.

There was commotion behind her as she ran past to the ship, slamming the receiver onto the side of it. Then motorbike guy was next to her, pressing an arm across her chest to pin her against the ship.

"You're gonna get shot if you don't stop." He said. Behind him, the Galra shuffled around, letting one individual through.

He looked as if he were in charge, fancier armour and a certain presence. He held his head high, with small, sharp ears and yellow eyes. The other Galra stood at attention as he started talking. Pidge had no idea what he was saying, of course. But she watched him closely anyway.

Pidge was shaking, she was distantly aware. Oh, this was bad, wasn't it?

The switch for her adapted receiver felt cold in her hand. The lead Galra was still speaking, moving his gaze between everyone nearby. A shiver went down Pidge's spine as it landed on her.

Motorbike guy tensed, presumably for the same reason. Once the leader looked away, Pidge whispered to him.

"What do you think they're saying?"

"...Nothing friendly." He shifted his weight. "You can activate that noise thing remotely, yeah?"

"Got the switch right here."

"Great. When I attack the soldiers nearest us, use it and run for the cave."

"Got it."

The next few moments were chaotic.

Motorbike guy crashed into the first Galra almost ferally, kicking out the knees of the next one. Pidge activated the receiver and most of the Galra yelled out, gripping their heads. She sprinted past them, breathing hard, getting closer to the cave with every step-

A soldier grabbed her, helmetless, and pressed their weapon against her head. The next moment it was thrown across the ground, the soldier following suit as motorbike guy stood over them.

"Go!"

Pidge ran as fast as she could, backpack sliding as she went, and finally reached the cave, footsteps echoing. Motorbike guy entered behind her, and they nearly crashed into Hunk and Lance as they rounded the corner.

"Go! Now!" Pidge yelled, and they did as they were told. The cavern was slightly emptier - Some of the soldiers had probably left to deal with the commotion - But not completely. Still, the remaining Galra were distracted with their helmets, and Pidge's group followed Lance down a seemingly random tunnel.

"What happened?" Hunk yelled as they ran. Pidge didn't have enough breath left to answer.

"Pidge made a noise thing with a receiver and the ship. We got surrounded and then he activated it and we ran." Motorbike guy said.

"What the hell was your plan, Pidge? How did you and motorbike guy-"

"Keith."

"Keith, get caught?? You're meant to be the smart one!"

"Everyone quiet!" Lance called out. He stopped, the rest of them nearly running into him. "Somewhere... here..."

Pidge looked around them. The walls were covered in faint carvings. They almost looked like... lions?

Lance stared at them intently. Distantly, Pidge could hear shouting.

"Not to rush you," She said. "But, like, all they have to do to come after us is take off their helmets..."

Lance brushed his fingers against one of the carvings, and it lit up blue. The others followed, illuminating the previously dim tunnel.

"Woah," Hunk said. "That's cool. And creepy. But cool."

The next moment, the ground gave way beneath them.

Pidge wasn't proud of the way she screamed, but nor was she ashamed. Lance was even louder than her.

They hit the ground with a splash, soggying them even more than the rain had. Pidge mentally noted that falling that far still fucking hurt even with water at the bottom.

"Ow..." Hunk mumbled. "You guys good?"

Keith made an affirmative noise. "I'm good." Pidge said. Lance said nothing.

"Lance?" Hunk called out. Pidge dragged herself upright, looking around for her teammate.

He was standing a few steps in front of them, looking upward. Pidge wouldn't be able to see that, of course, if not for the blue glow given off by...

She stared, speechless.

"Wow," Keith said. "That's..."

"A big fuckin' lion." Hunk agreed.

They went to stand by Lance. The lion towered over them, almost serene in its lack of movement. It was surrounded by some sort of forcefield, glowing in the dark.

"...You think that's the source of the signal, Pidge?" Lance asked.

"Yeah. I think so."

Pidge tentatively laid a hand on the forcefield. It didn't hurt her, but nor did it budge.

"What even is this?" Hunk asked. "Its mechanical... Do aliens keep metal space cats as pets?"

"Who would keep that as a pet?" Keith asked.

"I don't know! Aliens!"

Lance moved forward, pressing his own hand against the glowing blue. It flickered out immediately, the lion's eyes glowing yellow, and images flashed into Pidge's mind.

The blue lion roaring, chasing down ships. Firing lethal looking lasers from its mouth and tail. Other coloured lions alongside it. Pidge saw it all in an instant, along with one word.

VOLTRON.

"...Weapon," She said. "That thing is a weapon."

"Uh huh." Hunk agreed.

"And... Voltron." Keith said.

"Is that what its called?" Pidge wondered.

"No, I don't think so." Lance said. "This... This is just blue."

No one said anything for a moment. Pidge took in the awe-inspiring, deadly thing in front of them.

Something exploded above them. Right. The Galra were still here, and... They had no way out.

"Oh," She said. "We didn't think this through."

Hunk laughed hysterically. "You're just now realising that?"

"I don't suppose you can help?" Lance asked the lion. Nothing happened, as you'd expect.

That is, for the first few seconds. Then the lion seemed to come alive, crouching and moving its mouth toward them.

"Fuck, its gonna eat us!"

The lion stopped with its head close to the ground, jaw opening. A staircase descended from it.

"Uh," Keith said. "Does it want us to go inside?"

"Hell yeah!" Lance almost ran up the stairs, leaving the rest of them with no choice but to follow.

The inside felt like a fever dream. Hunk kept muttering 'inside an alien lion head' over and over, and yeah, that was fair. But the lion was decidedly artificial, smooth paneling all over. Lance sat in a surprisingly normal looking chair, and screens flashed to life around him.

"Oh," Pidge said. "Its a ship. Weapon ship. Cat weapon ship."

Maybe she was a bit tired.

"Alright," Lance said. "Ships I can do." Pidge begged to differ.

Pidge looked around, taking in the viewscreen that showed the cave around them, and the other displays with various types of information.

"Did you guys hear that?" Pidge looked back at Lance, who was looking around in confusion.

"Hear... What?" Keith asked. A fair question.

Even inside the lion (and what a sentence that was), Pidge could still hear the explosions rocking the ground from above. But she didn't think that was what Lance meant.

"So... Can you fly this thing?" Hunk asked. "Cause you're the only pilot we've got."

"Yeah, I got this." Lance said. His hands hovered over unfamilar controls. "Um... I swear I'm not insane, but I think its talking to me?"

"The... lion?" Hunk asked.

"I'm not crazy!"

"Well, we did find it by following Lance's feelings." Pidge said. "I suppose it... could be...?"

"Said with confidence." Lance sighed. "Okay. I got this."

"Do you think this is the Galra's lion?" Hunk asked. "I mean, they were looking for it, right? That's why they're here?"

"It doesn't look like their other ships." Keith pointed out. "And... The lion didn't call out to any of them."

"I guess that's what we're working with now," Pidge said. "It can't be a Galran massive mechanical lion, because it didn't magically call them. Fuck me."

Lance hit some buttons and the lion lurched, nearly sending the rest of them flying. It rumbled beneath them, almost... growling?

"Awesome," Lance said, which sure was one way of describing this situation. "Lets try this..."

Rock exploded outward as the lion crashed through the ground, shaking pieces off of itself afterward. As one of the passengers, Pidge did not appreciate that.

On the viewscreen, Pidge could see a few Galra soldiers firing their weapons. But they seemingly had no effect on the lion. Lance moved the controls and the lion surged forward, knocking them flying.

Pidge couldn't see the Galran ship anymore, she noted. Nor most of the soldiers.

The lion vibrated, like thrusters were firing, and they shot up into the sky. Pidge held on for dear life, one hand gripping the chair and the other around Hunk. The three passengers could do nothing but hold on and yell as Lance piloted as if he was drunk, spinning it around and upside down and who knew what else.

"What are you even doing!" Keith yelled.

"I don't know! Where are we going?" Lance yelled back.

"Okay! Think!" Pidge called, starting to feel nauseous. Lance flailed around with the controls, maybe in an attempt to get it under control. "This isn't a Galra lion, but they want it. Which means we can't let them have it!"

"Okay, so... Away?" Pidge threw both arms around the chair as the lion zoomed off, rolling wildly like only a terrible pilot could manage.

"Oh god..." Hunk moaned.

"Don't puke on the pilot, buddy!"

If Keith had any neighbours, they'd sure given them a wild story, Pidge thought. Giant flying lion...

Abruptly, the lion changed direction, flying straight up into the sky.

"Where are you going?" Pidge asked.

"This is what the lion says!"

Hunk laughed miserably. "Oh good... We're taking directions from the ship now... Probably taking us to its lair to eat us."

"We're already in its mouth. How is it gonna eat us?" Keith asked.

They burst out of Earth's atmosphere. The sight of so many, unobscured stars was breathtaking enough that Pidge almost forgot where they were.

Almost.

"Onwards!" Lance said, and the lion did just that, bounding away from the planet with incomphrensible speed. A clang rang out, which probably wasn't normal, but honestly, who knew at this point?

"We're under fire!" Lance said. The lion must have told him.

"Huh?" Hunk said. "From what?"

"The Galran ship." Keith said. And, shit, he was right wasn't he?

The lion danced around, dodging as much as it could. But Pidge could still feel each hit. Each one made Lance's grip tighten on the controls.

"Is that ship as fast as the lion?" Pidge asked.

"Um," Lance said. "I think Blue could lose it. But it would just go back to Earth, right? That's not better."

Right. They couldn't just let a Galra ship run wild on their planet.

"God, we're out far." Hunk said. Pidge looked out the viewscreen, where Kerberos was visible.

"How fast is this thing..." She said.

The lion shook with impact as the Galra ship landed a nasty hit. Even Pidge could feel the aura of displeasure.

"Okay, we can't just lose it, but we have to do something." Hunk said.

"Yeah." Lance agreed. He was quiet for a moment.

"Are you talking to the lion again?" Keith asked.

"Yup. They say they have a plan."

"Talkative lion." Hunk said.

"Well... It was more of a vibe. Its not like Blue communicates with actual words..."

The lion with a plan didn't speak with words. That was probably fine.

Ahead of them, space seemed to warp, spinning until a blue circle appeared.

"Oh, what's this now?" Hunk said.

"Blue wants us to go through there. And take the Galra ship with us." Lance said. Pidge stared at him.

"And it goes... Where?"

"...I don't know."

Pidge looked at the others. Hunk looked sick, but he met her eyes. Keith nodded. She looked back at Lance.

"Okay. Lets go, pilot."

"Alright." Lance manouvered the lion, crazy movements that Pidge was almost getting used to. The Galra ship was already coming toward them, but some well placed lasers to their weapons and a mighty shove from the lion had them spiralling toward the circle.

They fought back, trying to get the lion off them. But it hung on, claws digging in, and the thrusters kept them all headed forward.

Just as they were headed into the circle, Pidge rested a hand on Lance's shoulder. Hunk did the same on the other side.

The ship, the lion, everything, was swallowed whole.

Chapter Text

Pidge's head was fuzzy, blurring her vision. She felt... Off. As she blinked back into focus, she noticed the others seemed to feel similarly.

"...Lets not do that again." Hunk said, sat on the cockpit floor. Pidge liked that idea. Around them, where there were previously lit-up displays, there was nothing but dark screens.

"Did that work?" Keith asked. "Where are we?"

On cue, the viewscreen flickered back to life. The lion was still clinging to the Galra ship, claws dug in. Where it was previously alit with purple, it was now dim.

"Well, we're not where we were." Lance said.

"Helpful."

Pidge looked around. It was hard to put her finger on it, but something felt off with the lion.

"Hey Lance, is the lion okay?"

"I don't know. Um... They borrowed the power for that wormhole thing from somewhere, I think. And now they need to recover, maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"We're communicating on vibes here!"

"Just so we're clear, this thing took us though a wormhole to who knows where and now we're stuck indefinitely?" Hunk asked.

"You don't have to say it like that!"

"Well its accurate! For all we know we're closer to where the Galra live! What if the lion takes longer to recover than that ship takes to call for backup?"

"Why would Blue take us nearer the Galra?"

"I don't know Lance, why would the giant space lion do anything?"

"Hey lion!" Pidge called. "Uh... Could you show us where we are?" Surely one of these screens had to be for navigation.

Nothing happened for a few moments. Then a glitchy display came on, and Pidge went to look at it.

"See? Blue is the most helpful space lion there is. No way would they take us-"

"There's Galra ships everywhere!" Pidge said, staring at the display with wide eyes.

"What??"

"I knew it! This lion wants to eat us!"

"That still doesn't make sense!" Keith came to stand next to Pidge. "Is that a fleet formation?"

From what Pidge could gather, their position was this: The lion had wormholed them nearby to a Galran fleet. They couldn't see them on the viewscreen from the direction they were facing, but the lion had scanners, showing ships approaching rapidly. And they were dead in the water.

"Hey kitty, any chance you could take your nap later?" Lance said, patting the control panel. "Pretty please?"

"The lion's not going to help! Its taken us to its lair, Lance!"

"What sort of lair would this be? Didn't we say this thing wasn't Galran?" Keith asked.

"Galran or not, this lion wants to kill us!" Pidge said.

"That's not true!" Lance defended. "Blue just didn't want to lead this ship to their home, so they dropped it off here!"

"Along with us!" Hunk reminded.

"Only until Blue can open another wormhole!"

"So what, we ask the Galra not to shoot at us until 'Blue' feels better?" Keith said.

"People who bite don't get to comment on this!"

"Not to rush your precious lion, but they're getting closer!" Pidge said.

"I-"

Something hit the lion's back, making everything shake with impact.

"Blue!" Lance yelled. The lion finally seemed to wake up, lurching backwards a few times until its claws were freed from the ship. Lance and the lion dodged and weaved, but even though Pidge had to cling on for dear life, she could tell the movements weren't as fast as before. The floor under her rattled with every shot they couldn't dodge, which seemed to be most of them.

"We're all gonna die!" Hunk yelled.

Pidge looked out of the viewscreen as best as she could with all the movement. There were at least a dozen ships, most of them similarly sized as the one from Earth, and one that was much, much bigger.

"Blue, how long until we can get out of here?" Lance flung the controls around in the few seconds of silence. "That's- That's not great, I'll be honest..."

"Let me guess, too long?" Pidge asked.

"It would be faster if Blue could reboot fully, but that would mean disabling life support..."

"So we just have to get off this thing for a while, then?" Keith said.

Hunk laughed hysterically. "Oh yeah, lets just nip outside!"

"I'm serious! Galra can breathe Earth air, right? So we could breathe the air on their ships!"

"Not necessarily!" Hunk said. "Maybe the Galra have a really high tolerance for bad air quality!"

"And we can't just jump over to one of them anyway!" Pidge added. Fuck, was this guy actually insane?

"Actually!" Lance said. "Ugh... Blue says there's a speeder we could use in their chest. So it could work..."

"Lance! Don't side with the guy who doesn't know how air works!"

"I'll go find it." Keith said, leaving the cockpit with balance Pidge could only be jealous of.

"I'm not siding with him! I'm siding with Blue!"

"Oh, much better!"

"If we get out of this thing, we could hide behind that big ship." Pidge said, thinking hard. "Its slow moving. And hopefully the other ships won't see us when there's a big lion to aim at instead."

"I hate this plan." Hunk said.

Keith came back. "Good news, its there and functional. Bad news, its built for one person. I think we can squeeze in, but..."

"We don't have much choice." Pidge said. "Hunk, Keith, you two go first and try and figure out how to fly it. We'll wait about a minute and follow, so Lance can keep piloting the lion. Good?"

"No." Hunk said. But he and Keith dashed off anyway.

Pidge held on to the chair, watching Lance move the controls, more stressed than she'd ever seen him. He was breathing kinda heavily, she noticed.

"So once you leave the controls, what's the lion gonna do?"

"Drop us off near that ship. Fly a bit away and then reboot." Lance said. "Perks of ships with magic consciousness, huh?"

"Right." Pidge counted down in her head. "Happy to be out of the hot seat?"

"Neither of them are pilots," Lance said. "How is this even gonna wor-"

"Time!" Pidge grabbed Lance by the arm, flailing out of the cockpit and in what she hoped was the direction of the speeder. The lion shook violently as they reached it, nearly sending Pidge sprawling. Lance grabbed the side of the speeder, pulling her toward it.

"Good news! This is basically a motorbike, so Keith's got this!" Hunk said. He was squeezed in right at the back of the speeder.

"Space motorbike, Hunk! Very different!" Lance retorted. He and Pidge got inside, leaving barely enough room for Keith to move the controls. "I bet he's gonna crash it!"

"Shut up!" The roof closed over them.

Pidge's stomach dropped as the floor below them opened, the speeder falling out into open space. Above them, the lion leapt in the other direction, weapons firing at it and lighting up the darkness. Despite the inherent weirdness and danger of the lion, Pidge did not feel good about it moving away from them.

Keith hugged the side of the big ship with the speeder. It was miniscule compared to any other craft here, which helped it go unnoticed.

"Ow! Who just kicked me?" Lance shifted around.

"Stay still!" Keith snapped. "Do you want me to crash this thing?"

"How much air does this thing have?" Pidged asked. "Probably not a lot, right? For four people?"

"Pidge," Lance said. "Why do you ask horrible questions with the same tone you talk about cafeteria food? Its weird."

"That sentence used a lot of air..."

"This was an awful plan." Hunk said.

"I see hangar doors," Keith said. "That's our best bet for getting inside this thing."

"What, are you just gonna fly up there and knock?" Lance said. "What if there's Galra in there?"

"Of course there's gonna be Galra."

"Wha- That's a bad thing!"

"You agreed to this plan! Didn't you think of that before?"

In the end, they got into the hangar with a very advanced and thought through plan. It went like this: Lance and Keith argued until a Galra ship approached the hangar doors, which opened. Keith hid the speeder behind it and they snuck inside.

Just before they entered, Pidge could distantly see a glowing blue sphere, just as they'd seen in the lion's cave.

The hangar was massive. The ship they followed docked onto pillared supports, which clamped onto it securely. There were several other ships docked similarly, of varying size. Keith just barely set the speeder on the floor before the room started pressurising.

"Well what now?" Lance said. "This is a terrible hiding spot."

"Then we go and find somewhere else to hide. Its a big ship."

"Oh I see, we're going further into the enemy alien ship." Hunk said. "Have I mentioned how I hate this plan?"

They slipped out of the speeder, staying in the shadow of the other ship. Pidge stretched out her cramped legs. Nearby, there was a control panel. Maybe it had to do with the doors to space.

"Problem," Lance said. "This door doesn't open. More precisely, its locked. I don't suppose Galra would use 'Password123'?" Pidge couldn't even be sure it was a password lock. The screen was full of nonsensical symbols.

There were several doors along the walls of the hangar, and they split up to check all of them. Pidge tried hers and found it didn't budge, which was not reassuring.

"Guys," Hunk said. "Doesn't it make sense they'd all be locked if one of them is?"

"Try some optimism, buddy."

"This one's not locked." Keith said. The door slid back and forth with a push.

"What sort of terrible security is this?" Hunk said. "Not that I'm complaining, I'm just saying."

They crept along the hall as quietly as they could, listening out for anyone approaching. They walked so long before finding any doors that Pidge started getting nervous. Then they found one, a massive gate thing in the wall, but despite their best efforts it wouldn't shift, and they had to keep going.

"There!" Hunk whispered. Up ahead there was an average looking door. They stood to one side as Keith pressed his ear against it, listening for any noises inside. Fortunately it seemed to be empty, and he and Hunk pulled the door open. The inside resembled a storeroom, though Pidge wouldn't be able to name the things on the shelves. They all took a moment to take a proper breath.

"Oh my god," Hunk said. "We're on a Galra ship right now."

"I know, right? Awesome." Lance said.

Then he swayed on his feet, before his knees buckled and he collapsed toward the ground.

"Lance!" Hunk's and Pidge's voices fused together. Hunk dove forward to catch him before he hit the ground, lowering him gently.

"What's wrong with him?" Pidge asked, unsure what to do with her hands.

"Is he dead?" Keith asked.

"No he's not dead!" She snapped.

"Buddy? Wake up. This isn't a good time for a nap." Hunk shook Lance gently. "He's breathing, his pulse is normal-ish, he's not feverish... I don't think he's hurt, is he?"

"We haven't even seen any Galra. How could he be?" Keith said.

In Hunk's arms, Lance stirred. His eyes looked glossy he blinked, but they cleared up.

"...Why am I on the floor?"

"You tell us!" Hunk said. "You just, fell! Don't do that again!"

"I didn't plan to do it the first time!" Lance sat up, rubbing his head. "I don't know I just... Felt dizzy."

"All of a sudden?" Pidge asked.

"Yeah. I'm not sure why."

Pidge thought about it. He'd been fine in class earlier today and as Keith rightly said, there hadn't been any opprtunity for him to be wounded by the Galra. The biggest weird thing to happen was the wormhole, but if that was the issue, surely they'd all feel dizzy.

That left only one thing.

"It must be the lion." Pidge said. "The whole magic telepathy business must have been too much."

"Piloting a weird space lion has consequences? Who could've seen that coming?" Hunk snarked.

"Oh, quiet. I feel fine now."

Pidge took his word for it, mostly because she didn't have any choice.

They settled in to wait. Hunk sat next to Lance, fussing every so often. Keith stood against the door, looking attentive. Pidge, for her part, investigated the room they were in.

There were stacks of boxes, containing what Pidge would guess was rations. Sealed packets with something that was probably edible. She tucked a few in her backpack, just in case they weren't poisonous and they were hungry. On the shelves, she found assorted bits of metal, some bandages, and spare pieces of armour.

It seemed a strange combination of things for a storeroom, but considering the proximity to the hangar, maybe it was meant for quick restocks.

Investigating done, Pidge sat near the others. She looked at her teammates, and new guy Keith, and wondered how on Earth (or not) they ended up in this situation.

She recalled reading the telemetry data earlier today. The last thing her brother ever transmitted. Data that told the Garrison they'd made it into space, whatever they claimed. Data that Pidge had followed in hope of answers. What she'd found, though, was more questions.

The Galra had been on Earth. How long had they been there? Since the Kerberos mission? Longer?

Pidge froze, hand supporting her head. If... If those Galra had been looking for the lion, using the signal Matt's ship had picked up, then...

There had only been one Galra ship on Earth. If it was the same one her family had encountered, then it was the one that had killed them.

That lead Galra... At the caves. He...

"Someone's coming." Keith said, way too calmly.

"What? Coming? Here?" Hunk asked, stressed enough for the both of them.

"Yes! Now hide!"

They all dashed further into the storeroom, ducking behind shelves in the far corner. Pidge peeked through rows of supples, tensing as the door opened.

Two soliers came in, with full armour and helmets. They were speaking to each other, words that Pidge could recognise as similar to the other Galra, but still meaningless to her.

One of the soldiers walked past a few rows of shelves, in the direction they were hiding. Beside Pidge, Keith was coiled like a spring, ready to attack. She hoped it didn't some to that, since she didn't fancy their chances if they got into a fight within an enemy ship.

The soldier picked up something on a shelf, calling back to the other. Then they walked back toward the door, and it closed behind both of them.

"Oh thank god." Hunk said.

"I guess Galra are gossipy too." Lance said, which was such a non-sequiter that Pidge gave him a look.

"What makes you say that?" Hunk asked. Lance looked at him, confused.

"Because they were making fun of this guy called Moulan? And talking about the shit he did?"

"You can understand them?!" Keith asked, which Pidge fully seconded.

"Can you guys... Not?"

"No, Lance! What the fuck?" Pidge said. "Of course we can't understand them! They're aliens speaking an alien language! Didn't you think it was weird you knew what they were saying?"

"I don't know, I guess I assumed they learned ours! And were using it in private, for some reason... Okay yeah, I can see how that doesn't make sense now."

"...It must be the lion." Keith said. "Its the only thing that makes sense. As far as any of this makes sense, anyway."

"Damn," Lance said. "Guess I'm trilingual now."

"Well if that's the case, give us the details," Hunk said. "What about this Moulan guy? What'd he do?"

"He's a general, which is pretty high up, I guess? I don't think he's in charge of the fleet though, with how they were talking. Apparently he lost most of his ships a while back, fighting a, and I quote, 'dumb, primitive wet ball'."

"He doesn't sound like a very good general." Hunk said.

"Well, no. And they were on about how he couldn't even keep his ship in one piece, and now its everybody's problem..." Lance trailed off. "Wait a minute. They mean the ship we brought here."

"...You can't be saying that the most loser-est guy of this whole place caused us so much trouble." Hunk said.

"I mean, he can't be that loser-ey, if he's still a general..."

Pidge replayed Lance's words in her mind, almost dizzy with the implications.

"Guys," She said. "This General Moulan... If he lost his ships 'a while back', fighting a 'dumb, primitive wet ball'... I mean, don't you think they could've been talking about Earth?"

"What do you mean?" Lance asked. "If a bunch of Galra ships were destroyed by Earth, then surely we would-" He stopped in realisation.

Because yes, they would know. Intimately, unforgettably. Enough to recite in your child's bedtime stories.

"...You can't be serious." Hunk said. "You think he was the one to attack Earth?"

"It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"I... Does it? What are the chances that the guy who did that was the same one that showed up looking for the lion?"

"Pretty high, if we consider that that was what he was after to begin with." Keith spoke. He'd been quiet. "If he lost his ships the first time, it might take a while for him to come back."

"Thirteen years, though?" Hunk asked. "And why wouldn't he just ask for reinforcments?"

"The same reason treasure hunters don't advertise where they're looking," Lance said. "He wanted Blue for himself."

"You don't know that. This is all wild speculation."

Pidge stared into the disrance, thinking. If General Moulan did want the lion all to himelf, then it would account for the small attack force all those years ago, the lack of a second attack since, and the single ship that had been on Earth.

It would mean that there really were no other ships hiding there, which was a relief. But it came together with the sobering realisation that Earth had been working themselves to death preparing to fend off one, singular shitty general, and could hardly even do that.

Her heart ached, thinking about her father's endless work, the years of work so many people put into the Kerberos mission. An early warning system, meant to give the planet a fighting chance... And it would make no difference against the full force of the Galra.

"...What does that even change?" Keith asked. "You already knew the Galra were a threat. And it doesn't affect our situation."

He was right. Still.

"Speaking of," Hunk said, "How long until Blue is ready?"

"Shouldn't be much longer."

The wait was tense, everyone unsettled from the revelations. Pidge tried to put it out of her mind. At least she knew what happened at Kerberos, now... Even if it were a cold comfort.

Lance suddenly sat up straight. "Blue's ready! I feel it!"

They were all more than ready to get off the enemy ship. Keith opened the storeroom door slowly, checking for anyone nearby. They stepped into the corridor.

They couldn't get lost on the journey to the hangar, despite the relentless corners and twists of the hallway. By Pidge's estimate they were halfway there before they encountered trouble.

Voices approached from in front of them. Several of them, a group. They turned back on themselves, sneaking as quickly as they could, until Keith halted them at a turn. He gestured past it, and Pidge heard another voice.

They all looked at each other, identical thoughts of Oh fuck, as they realised Galra were coming on both sides.

Pidge thought quickly. She slung her backpack off of her shoulders, snatching her most reliable piece of tech - Gunther.

It whirred to life, hovering near her head, and Pidge flew it forward. Ideally, she'd distract the Galra between them and their exit, but there were more of them. She had a higher chance of success with the lone Galra near the storeroom.

She pushed past Keith, keeping as close to the drone as she dared. There was a small screen attached to the controller, so she could see where it was going, but it was still easier to control when she was close to it. Pidge knew it had been seen when she heard heavy footsteps, following Gunther in the direction of the corridor.

As soon as they could, Pidge's group ran to the storeroom, slipping back inside. A moment after they did so, the group of voices arrived, mercifully walking past the door.

"Gunther the MVP!" Hunk exclaimed. "What a good drone!"

"You didn't think that would be useful before we left the room?" Keith asked.

"Me and Gunther save us all, and this is what I get." Pidge said. She watched through Gunther's camera, navigating it round several corners, until she lost the pursuing Galran. She hovered him near the ceiling, opting to wait a few minutes before trying to bring it back.

"There's a mic on that thing, right?" Hunk said. "Useful for listening out for Galra."

"You never mentioned your drone was a spycam..." Lance said.

"What else is a drone for?" Gunther did have a mic. It wasn't always good quality, what with the spinning blades so close to it.

Up near where Gunther was, the hallways split away from the straight shot of the one from the hangar, and became a maze of bends and doors. Pidge managed to navigate Gunther back to her, but it might have been a different story if it had gone any further.

"Attempt two," Keith said. "Pidge, fly that thing-"

"Gunther."

"...Fly Gunther ahead of us. I'll watch behind us. You two, try not to collapse or anything." Lance glared at him.

They waited in the storeroom whilst Gunther scouted ahead. Several times it almost seemed clear, only for a Galran soldier to appear, sometimes multiple. Lance listened to the mic feed closely, but apparently they weren't saying anything interesting, or at least nothing worth sharing.

That was, until a group of three passed by under Gunther.

"They say that Moulan's fighter is here. Injury recovery, or something."

"Well, that's not great," Hunk said. "But they're injured, so not a problem for us."

"Would they be anyway?" Pidge added. "If Moulan is a shitty general, why would his fighter, whatever that means, be any good?"

"I see your point, but I think any Galra fighter would be a problem."

"I don't know. Keith took out a few at the cave." Pidge said. "Hey, are you really good or are they really bad?"

"Whichever. Lets just try and not fight them."

"So they're really bad, got it." Lance said.

"What does that make you? You lost to Keith too." Pidge pointed out.

"I'm a pilot! I'm not supposed to be good at brawling."

Eventually, they had a clear shot. Pidge headed out into the corridor, the others behind her. Gunther whirred on ahead, showing her an empty corridor all the way to the hangar door, which they walked along for a while.

"Um, guys?" Hunk said, as they were nearly there. "Where's Keith?"

He was supposed to be behind Hunk, bringing up the rear. But that spot was conspicuously empty.

"Oh for crying out loud..." Lance said.

"How long has he been gone?" Pidge asked.

"I don't know! I just noticed! Do you know how quietly that guy moves?"

Lance pressed hand to his forehead. "We have to look for him, don't we?"

"Yeah, Lance." Hunk said. "I think we have to look for him."

Keith wasn't in the storeroom. Nor any of the rooms that Pidge looked in further down the corridor. Lance and Hunk came up just as empty, so here they were, hiding in a corner whilst Pidge changed Gunther's battery, freaking out.

"What even happened?" Hunk whisper yelled. "He must have wandered off! If a Galran snuck up on us we'd have heard something! But where would he go?"

"That's not actually weird for him," Lance said. "I mean, we met because he decided to follow random strangers into a Galra infested cave..."

"Great," Hunk said. "We adopted a compulsive wanderer."

"Okay," Pidge said. "Lets think about this logically. If you were a weird desert boy on an alien spaceship, where would you go?"

"The exit." Hunk said.

"No, that's you. You have a self-preservation instinct." Lance said. "This is Keith. He followed Pidge, a stranger, into a crowd of Galra with guns."

"Well, less followed, more was dragged there."

"Pidgey, you can't drag people you don't know into mortal peril."

"So people I do know are fine?"

"Well, yeah. That's why we're here." Lance agreed.

"No no," Hunk said. "That's why I'm here. I followed you two into the cave because I couldn't let you do stupid stuff alone. You, Lance, did so because you're insane."

"Moving on!" Pidge said. "I have an idea, and Hunk isn't gonna like it."

"Is it splitting up?" Hunk said. "There's a reason Shaggy always argues with Fred about that, you know."

"Listen, we don't know where to look, and we can only wander randomly for so long before we get caught." She said. "So we separate and cover more ground. You both have watches. We'll meet back here in, say, fifteen minutes."

"And if we haven't found him?"

"...We'll cross that bridge if we come to it."

Pidge dashed down a corridor, ducking into a room to let soldiers past. At this point, she was wishing she'd actually taken Professor Wright's advice to practice sneaking around. She went deeper and deeper into the ship, seeing rooms with unknown purposes and relentless Galran colours and inscriptions on the walls.

Gunther flew around another corner, down a corridor with paler, cleaner looking walls, and she finally saw that stupid mullet.

She ran around the corner and grabbed his arm. "Keith!" She hissed. "What the fuck?"

"I-"

"Where did you go? Why would you wander off? And without saying anything? We're on an alien ship, you can't do that!"

"Pidge-"

"I thought we were gonna have to leave you?" She took a deep breath. "I know you barely know us, but we all want to get out of here together, right?"

"Pidge." Keith slowly pulled her hand off. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... Its just that... I had a feeling?"

"Huh? About what?"

"Just look. He's one of yours, right?" Keith pointed at one of the doors. Pidge hadn't noticed, but these ones were different, windowed. She looked through, seeing shelves of what were probably medical supplies, sterile looking walls and floor, and...

There was a man laying on the medical table. Pidge had spent enough time looking at his picture on the news and in his file to recognise the Garrison's best pilot instantly.

Her pulse thudded in her ears. Everything felt distant. Pidge felt frozen, unable to take her eyes off of him. Takashi Shirogane... He should be dead. That's what happened. The Kerberos crew ran afoul of General Moulan's ship, and they died.

But... If that weren't true... If he had survived, then maybe...

"Pidge?" Keith's voice shocked her out of her thoughts.

"Yes! He's one of ours! We have to get him out!" Pidge tried to smother her brain, focus on the now, Pidge, don't hope...

Keith found the split in the door, taking a pocket knife out and pressing it into the gap. Pidge looked at it.

"Hey. That's my knife." Last she'd checked, it'd been in her backpack.

"You didn't keep a good enough eye on it." Keith said. Well, if he'd help her with Shiro, he could keep the thing for all she cared.

The door slid open, smooth as butter, and Pidge waited only long enough to glance around for danger before going in, finding herself next to Shiro in an instant.

He was unconscious, face worn and tired even now. Part of his hair was white. Pidge was certain that hadn't always been the case. And... Well... It was hard to ignore the prosthetic arm, clearly alien in design.

Keith thought so to. He approached next to Pidge, looking at it with an unidentifiable expression. "What... When did that happen?"

Pidge knew what he meant. The area where the prosthetic met his upper arm was covered in bandages, spotted with red. It was clearly a recent addition.

"Let's go." She said to Keith. Together they hefted him up from the table, swinging him upright. Pidge had never moved an unconscious person before, and to be perfectly honest, she'd be happy to never to do it again.

Keith swung an arm over his shoulders, taking Shiro's weight. "I'll carry him. You keep watch with Gunther. We really don't want to be caught like this."

Right. Pidge didn't know how to throw a punch and Keith was weighed down. They were very vulnerable to attack right now.

Navigating these corridors had been nervewracking the first time. It was infinitely worse now. Every time she spotted a Galran meant diving into a room or around a corner, dragging their dead weight with them, and hoping they'd keep walking. To say nothing of worrying about someone noticing their prisoner we gone, and sounding the alarm...

The fourth time they hid, tucked in a sad looking dead end of a hallway, Shiro stirred. Probably from being dragged around so much.

He was slumped against Keith's side, barely having the energy to lift his head. But he seemed to gain a little awareness when he looked at Pidge.

"Hi," She said, crouched in front of him. "You may notice that we're human! Pretty rare around here. We're in the middle of rescuing you, but I need to ask you something whilst you're awake."

"..."

"Your crew," Pidge said. "Samuel and Matthew Holt. Were they captured too? Are they here?"

Pidge wasn't sure what she'd do with either possible answer.

"...Not here." Shiro said. His voice sounded awful. "But... Somewhere..."

Pidge couldn't breathe.

"Okay," Keith said. "We got it. Don't push yourself."

Shiro passed out. Pidge's hands shook on Gunther's controller.

Somewhere. They were somewhere.

In any other circumstance that wouldn't be reassuring, and in some ways the uncertainty filled Pidge with dread, but... Somewhere.

They arrived at the meeting point, where Hunk and Lance were already waiting. Lance opened his mouth, probably to say something about her lateness, before freezing to the spot when he saw Shiro.

"The goal was to bring back one black haired dude. Not two, you overachiever." Hunk said.

"Is that...?" Lance asked.

"The pilot from the Kerberos mission, yes." Pidge said. "Keith had a feeling."

"What."

"I guess he did sense the lion too..." Hunk said.

"Not as specifically as Lance." Keith said. "And that's not the same. The lion is magic."

"And apparently so are you," Hunk continued. He pointed at everyone in turn. "Translator, vibes master, drone controller, the only sane one here..." He finished by pointing to himself. "What a team."

"Sorry, are we skipping over the pilot from the Kerberos mission?" Lance pressed. "What-"

"They didn't die and were captured, moving on. More importantly, you wanted to fly Gunther, right?" She pressed the controller into Lance's hands.

He looked at her, bewildered.

"We can't all fit in the speeder." Pidge said. She'd been thinking it over since the problem had occured to her. "You need to pilot the lion, and Hunk needs to carry Shiro. I'm small and fast and Keith can fight, so we'll wait here."

"Woah woah woah!" Lance said. "Pidge, I'm not gonna-"

"Take this too," Pidge said, handing Lance the device. "Its just a long range pager, but you can use it to tell us when you get there and we'll get to the hangar."

Neither Lance nor Hunk liked this plan, but they weren't stupid. This was the sensible way to split up their group.

"Do not wander off again," Hunk said to Keith, before turning to Pidge. "And you... Just try not to do anything, really."

Pidge and Keith hid in a nearby room, with desks and empty jars everywhere. There were some strange rooms on this ship.

"Do you... Know the other crew?" Keith asked.

Yeah... She supposed she'd given herself away a little.

"Samuel Holt is my father," Pidge said, and the feeling of saying is was indescribable. "Matthew Holt is my brother."

"Oh."

Pidge traced her finger along the ground. Now, with a moment to breathe, it felt surreal.

"This is wild, huh?" Pidge said. "I don't even remember the Galra attack... But here we are, on one of their ships."

"The big one."

"The big one!" Pidge leant against the wall. "Do you remember it?" Keith was a few years older than her, she was fairly sure. It was possible.

"...Not really." Keith said. "I just remember it was really loud."

That was what Pidge's mom often said. Everthing was loud and chaotic and scary. That must have gone double for any young children.

Pidge didn't remember. But maybe that was why she liked her mom's bedtime story version and Matt didn't - It was too familiar.

In her pocket, Pidge's pager beeped.

"Go time!" Pidge jumped to her feet. Keith was first out the door, listening before every corner. The corridors were fortunately pretty empty, lending them a relatively calm journey.

A shockwave ran through the ship, together with a loud bang. Pidge looked at Keith, both wondering if the others were responsible for it.

Keith leapt toward her, fists swinging, and Pidge had a wild moment thinking he was attacking her before he collided with someone behind her, Galran soldier reeling back. They must not have heard them in their distraction.

"Intruders!" They yelled out, before Keith whacked them over the head with their weapon. Shit.

Keith grabbed Pidge's arm, but she didn't need the hint. They sprinted down the corridor, ignoring the thudding footsteps behind them. The hangar door slammed behind them, and Keith dug his knife into the workings and wires, which seemed to do the job of keeping it shut.

...Fuck, they hadn't planned this bit. What was Pidge meant to do now?

"Pidge!" Keith pointed toward the control panel, near where the speeder had been. Pidge approached it and saw hastily written letters, ink blotty like Lance's writing always was.

Lance had translated the buttons they'd need. There were heavy circles around two buttons, one labelled 'timer' and other labelled 'open'.

The Galra controls didn't use any time measurements Pidge was familiar with, but Lance had left a tally, so maybe they'd done some trial and error.

The obvious plan here was to set the door to open after a certain time, stay open long enough for the lion to get in, and then close again. But to do that Pidge and Keith would need to duck out for a moment...

They hadn't accounted for sudden enemy combatants. Sue them - They were only cadets.

Keith pointed toward something, their only other option.

Pidge dutifully pressed the buttons the right amount of times. Then they ran to the nearest Galran ship. They didn't have a hope in hell of figuring out the controls, but they didn't need to - The door was already open from when the crew had disembarked, and any spaceship designed with common sense had an emergency button to close it.

It slid shut after them, sealing them in yet another Galran ship. This one was smaller, but no less oppressive. Outside, Pidge could hear the beep of alarms as the main doors opened, depressurising the room.

The ship had a small viewport near the door. Pidge peered through it, relaxing minutely as the Blue lion thudded to the ground. The doors slid shut once again.

They fled the Galra ship as soon as possible, dropping to the floor and running to the control panel once again. At the same time, a door along the wall flew open, Galra charging in.

Pidge managed to get past before the Galra reached her, slamming into the controls. Keith kicked one of them down, putting himself between her and the rest of them, but one guy couldn't fend off this many armed soldiers.

The controls beeped under her hands, which was all she could do, firmly out of tricks, tech and time. One of the Galran's hit Keith in the ribs, and she started over there-

An almighty roar echoed through the hangar, the blue lion sweeping its paws, sending a dozen soldiers flying. Keith backed up quick, as did any Galra with sense, clinging to the wall. A surprising amount of them instead opted to roar back.

Blue was not impressed.

Pidge and Keith ran toward the lion, all too aware of the timer in her head. The lion swung its head toward them, opening its maw and eveloping them.

Pidge had never been more glad to be in a cats mouth.

In the cockpit, Lance was fending off the soldiers with a little too much enjoyment. Hunk was wedged between the chair and the display consoles for stability, Shiro held next to him.

"All aboard the blue lion express!" Lance said. On cue, the main doors opened, ejecting both the lion and some unfortunate Galrans.

"The lion certainly seems to be feeling better." Pidge remarked.

"They are!"

Lance dodged around weapons fire and the various Galra ships, not without taking a few hits but a lot less than earlier. The lion bounded into empty space, buzzing with energy.

The space in front of them warped, another wormhole opening.

"Please not another Galra fleet." Hunk requested. Pidge thought that was reasonable.

"Of course not!" Lance said, almost sounding offended on behalf of the lion. "Blue's taking us to their home."

"If you say so..."

Lance pushed the controls forward, and everyone else held on. With one last leap, Blue left the Galrans behind.