Chapter Text
Galaxy Garrison Mission Statement
Kerberos Lunar Expedition
Date: September 15, 2313
Mission Designation: KERBEROS-1
Vessel: *IGS Prometheus
Mission Duration: 17 Weeks (Launch Date: April 7, 2313)
Destination: Lunar Body "Kerberos" – Outer Plutonian Orbit, Sector 14-G
Crew Manifest:
- Pilot: Commander
Takashi ShiroganePRESUMED DEAD - Communications Officer:
Lieutenant Matthew HoltPRESUMED DEAD - Senior Science Officer / Chief Engineer:
Dr. Samuel HoltPRESUMED DEAD
Mission Overview:
The Intergalactic Spacecraft Prometheus, en route for over five months, was planned to arrive at Kerberos — an ice covered lunar body of Pluto — by June 13, 2313. The mission’s objective was to collect and analyze permafrost samples to investigate ancient organic compounds and cryogenic conditions. However the aforementioned vessel failed to return communications and has been presumably lost due to pilot and/or crew error, marking this mission as a failure.
The Galaxy Garrison had announced the Kerberos mission to be their most ambitious undertaking yet. Said to be completely uninhabitable and lacking in a breathable atmosphere, they had carefully trained the crew members for a journey that would take at least 2 months to simply arrive on the 3rd Plutonian moon. This same mission would’ve taken over 6 months just a century prior, but the Garrison prided itself with having the most brilliant minds in the world to continue advancing Earth’s space faring technology. It’s no wonder the strategically placed desert base had opened its doors decades prior to help cultivate the young and talented to become the next generation of space explorers…
Emotions had been so high and optimistic on those initial 8 weeks. Dr. Holt had even joked about getting used to eating frozen peas on their way to the icy moon. A stark difference to their regular dinner nights. Although this time was special, considering their impending launch and the celebration of Matt’s kid sister, Katie, who had just turned 14 years old. Of course a lovingly cooked meal by Colleen Holt was exactly what they needed to remind them of home. Shiro took it with stride as his usual demeanor remained hopeful. But Matt had groaned soundly wishing to be home in good old northeastern Nebraska. Shiro, internally, couldn't help but agree as the boredom quickly consumed their enthusiasm.
However, just as quickly, they touched down the icy surface and excitedly took in their surroundings, not forgetting to get to work. The samples had been easy enough to take using their microgravity coring drill, specifically designed to anchor under little to no gravity conditions. A piece of equipment which Matt considerably enjoyed rambling about. Sam typed and logged away at their communications panel, ensuring the research was thoroughly documented to be further studied upon their return. As Shiro watched Matt collect their newest and possibly final ice sample he heard Sam chime in.
“Easy there, son. The ice may be frozen solid, but is still delicate.”
Too engrossed to feel much caution, Matt gushed to Shiro, “Amazing…Isn’t this exciting?!”
“You guys get a little more excited about ice samples than I do.” A chuckle left him but seeing his crew member's excitement tugged a smile to the corner of his lips.
Sam shook his head easily, “This is history in the making kiddo. Not only have we traveled farther than any human, but these samples could hold clues towards the existence of life outside Earth.”
Matt’s eyes gleamed wide with realization, “Think about it, Dad. We could be the first people to meet aliens!”
Sam nudged his son playfully with his shoulder, a sigh leaving his nose, “My life’s work would be complete.”
The younger men both watched the older scientist fondly as the slippery frost under their soles began to crack and rumble. Dr. Holt snapped away from his day dream wondering out loud if the increasing vibrations could be seismic activity. Shiro, however, sensed danger, natural or not.
“We should get back to the ship.” His tone left no room for questioning.
He turned back to notice Sam and Matt petrified at the sight of an impossibly massive space craft. Its dark metallic surface, evidently, anything but friendly.
“Wha-? What is that?! It can’t be…” Sam staggered back, slightly jostling his glasses under his helmet.
“Run! Come on, RUN!”
Although they had already felt the moon’s percentile gravity, suddenly their limbs began to drift higher and higher into the air. The deafening low pitch of a blindingly purple beam enveloped all three men as they were violently sucked into the threatening ship. They landed unceremoniously on the ground of cargo doors and forcefully placed into alien restraints. Although thrown about, Shiro quickly noticed the presence of several tall and domineering humanoids wearing red and black armored suits; dawning purplish complexions that range from fur-like to bald; and unnervingly piercing yellow eyes accompanied by pointed ears. A floating hologram emitted the only source of light in front of what Shiro assumed to be a commanding officer to this “race.”
“Emperor Zarkon, we were scouting system X-9Y as ordered when we apprehended these primitive scientists. I don’t believe they have or know anything useful to us.”
“Take them back to the main fleet for interrogation. The Druids will be able to dissect what they know.”
Shiro couldn’t suppress a shiver as he heard the deep baritone of the hologram voice, causing his skin to break out in goose bumps. He couldn’t even understand this alien language but a cold bead of sweat down the nape of his exposed neck warned him of their impending danger. He surged forward, knees bent solidly on the cold hard surface as his wrists ached, cuffed behind him.
“Please, we come from a peaceful planet! W-we mean you no harm!” He prayed his words would be understood, “We are unarmed-!”
A sudden strike to his head blindsided him as he fell unconscious to the cold floor. Distantly he felt his boots squeak as he was dragged backwards. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed and his thoughts jumbled about painfully in his throbbing head. Finally a cohesive thought landed in the forefront of his mind, “were Matt and Sam safe?” The ringing in his ears hinted at a potential concussion but he forced his bleary eyes open to see what could only be described as horrendous.
Date: May 11, 2314
A year had passed since the initial supposed failure of the Kerberos mission. Now, a new crew flew unsteadily through the solar system to rescue a downed vessel on Kerberos. The Pilot, Lance McClain, jerked the controls struggling to keep the course straight. Just behind his commanding seat sat a larger occupant, Engineer Hunk Garrett, whose uneasy face crinkled his blocky eyebrows tightly on a perspiring forehead.
Lance’s gangly limbs easily reached the system landing console above as he confidently announced with a smile, “Galaxy Garrison flight log 05-11-14. Beginning descent to Kerberos for rescue mission.”
The ship fell an extra few kilometers and caused Hunk’s stomach to plunge and gurgle more persistently.
“Augh-. Lance, can you keep this thing steady?” Hunk’s eyes were screwed shut to ward off the nausea.
“Tranqui buddy, I’m just getting a feel for the sticks.” The pilot’s eyes squinted mischievously, “I mean…It’s not like I did this!”
Lance yanked the left stick to the side causing the little ship to shake and free fall sideways for a second. Hunk groaned.
“Or this-!”
The motion sick engineer clutched his stomach and attempted to slow his breathing to ward off his greening pallor. He suddenly sits up and lurches his head angrily towards the pilot seat.
“Okay-...Unless you want to wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies of this thing, you’d better KNOCK IT OFF, MAN!”
Off to the right side of the ship sat the shortest member of the group, who up until now, had just watched with growing annoyance as their Pilot continued to aggravate Hunk’s ill stomach. Communications Officer, Pidge Gunderson, nearly lost his glasses with how quickly he snapped his head back towards the monitor's newly lit signal.
“We’ve picked up a distress beacon!”
Lance’s face schooled into that of concentration, “Alright, look alive team! Pidge, track coordinates.”
“Copy-” Pidge quickly tried to type into the data pad but the tiny vessel rumbled unsteadily and alarms began to blare.
Hunk sobbed, “Knock it off, Lance, please-!”
“Oh this one is all you buddy. We’ve got a hydraulic stabilizer out.”
Hunk tried to pull up his system's monitor closer but felt the bile begin to rise in his throat.
“Oh no-...”
“Oh, no. Fix now, puke later dude!”
Pidge’s head ached dully with growing frustration, “I lost contact. The shaking is interfering with our sensors.”
Lance yelled back, “COME ON, HUNK!”
“It’s not responding.” Hunk grimaced as he unbuckled his seatbelt to fix the stabilizer on the far-right unit box.
Another hologram screen flashed in front of Lance’s eyes.
“Oh, nevermind, fellas. Thar she blows. Preparing for approach on visual.”
Pidge cringed at Lance and felt his cheeks color slightly with unease, “I don’t think that’s advisable with our current mechanical and…gastrointestinal issues.”
“Agreed.” Hunk trembled, holding back another shudder.
“Stop worrying. This baby can take it. Can’t ya, champ?” His affectionate patting on the controls earned him a violent tremble from the ship.
“Uh-see? She was-she nodding” He nodded along feigning poise, “She was nodding…”he says, mostly to himself, then cleared his throat, “Pidge, hail down to them and let them know their ride is here.”
Pidge visibly disagreed with Lance’s commanding decision yet struggled to reach the microphone while strapped tight to his seat. Protocol required all crew members to be buckled for safety but Pidge’s stature failed to accommodate.
He unbuckled his belt without second thought, “Attention lunar vessel-”
The ship jerked hard causing Pidge to fall over with a surprised wail and collide with the metal floor.
Lance turned incredulously, “What are you doing?! Buckle your damn belt. And Hunk, stop that shaking!”
“I-I’m try-ah-ah o-oh NO-!” Hunk then barfed unceremoniously into the main gearbox as the rumbling, of course, stopped.
Pidge scrunched his nose against the offending smell and grabbed the microphone once more, this time buckling back in.
“Attention lunar vessel, this is Galaxy Garrison Rescue Craft One Viktor Six Three Tango. Coming in for landing and extraction-” He gave Lance an impetulous sidelong glare and whispered into the mic, “Against crew recommendations...”
Lance met the look with a side-eye of his own and rolled his eyes, “Uh, no time for your mutinous comments now, Pidge. They’re going under and we’re going in.”
As if their descent hadn’t been risky enough Lance dove steeper towards the icy surface of Kerberos. Completely disregarding a glacial bridge quickly approaching them.
“Look out for that overhang!”
“No worries!” Lance smirked presumptuously, pursing his lips as he spoke, “My first year in flight school, ya know what they called me? They called me “the tailor” because of how I thread the needle.”
Both Pidge and Hunk sighed in exasperation.
“Come around come around,” He wrestled to navigate the spacecraft properly, “Come on, come on-!”
A loud crunch could be heard from the right wing being ripped off having struck the icy formation. And then both the ship and their stomachs plummeted, at full speed, to the impending surface.
“We lost a wing!”
“Oh, man…”
The shuttle collided hard into the icy terrain and the front monitor cut out as a voice reported, “Simulation Failed.”
Pidge huffed at Lance, “Nice work, Tailor…”
The simulator doors opened to reveal their instructor Commander Iverson who yelled for them to roll out and line up at the ready. Hands clenched behind his back, Iverson acknowledged the other cadets as if Pidge (15), Lance (17), and Hunk (17) weren’t even there.
“Well, let’s see if we can use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you students. Can anyone point out the mistakes these three so-called cadets made in the flight simulator.”
An eager cadet spoke up, “The engineer puked in the main gearbox!”
“Yes, as everyone knows-” He approached and closely leaned into Hunk’s face, “Vomit is NOT an approved lubricant for engine systems. What else?”
Another student raised their hand, “The Comm Spec removed his safety harness.”
Then another blurts, “The pilot crashed!”
Iverson’s disdain is palpable, causing the three to shrink self-consciously into their shoulders, “Correct. And worst of all, the whole jump, they’re arguing with each other! Heck-, if you’re going to be this bad individually, you’d better at least be able to work as a team! The Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets, like you, into the next generation of elite Astro-explorers, but these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what cost the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission-.”
Pidge interjected rashly, “That’s NOT true, sir!”
Iverson’s eye snapped to the shortest member, “What did you say?”
Lance sucked in a breath and quickly covered Pidge’s mouth with his hand to silence whatever else he could say to make their situation worse.
“Sorry, sir! I-I-I think he may have hit his head,” Pidge mumbled angrily under Lance’s gloved hand as he tilted closer into Pidge holding a nervous smile, “W-when he fell out of his chair. But point taken.”
Far from done with his admonishing, Iverson continued, “I hope I don’t need to remind you that the only reason you're here, McClain, is that the best pilot in your class had a disciplinary issue and flunked out. Don’t follow in his footsteps.”
Lance deflated as his hand fell heavily away from Pidge’s face.
“Next!”
Later that night Lance was dead set on hitting the small town of Spencer just outside of the Garrison’s campus, even as a reluctant Hunk follows behind.
“We shouldn’t be doing this dude…”
"You heard Commander Iverson. We need to bond as a team. We're going to grab Pidge, hit the town, loosen up, meet some nice girls, maybe—"
Although certainly not his first attempt, Lance continued to try and sneak off school grounds and bond with his team. It had been well into their 2nd semester and little to no progress had been made, especially with Pidge, who had been the mysterious new student at the beginning of the school year. Hunk didn’t count, considering he was used to his Cuban friend’s antics since their early academy years.
“Ya know, Hunk, for someone in a space exploration program, you don’t have much of a sense of adventure.”
“That’s because all of your little “adventures” end up with me in the principal’s office…”
They continued through the long sprawl of hallways, past the instructor’s lounge where Lance did his stealthiest ninja impression and jumped into an empty trash can then motioned for Hunk to follow. A ground patrol officer passed outside the pony wall they hid behind, reporting that “L-5 North” was checked and cleared for curfew. Just as the guard stepped around the corner away from them, Lance gracefully leapt out the bin and rushed down the hall. Hunk tried to follow suit but got stuck on his bin’s tight lid and flopped to the ground loudly.
Hunk quickly stands, “I’m fine.” Luckily no one other than Lance heard.
Before the two could reach Pidge’s barracks they rounded the corner and saw the small cadet rush out of Iverson’s dark office holding a heavy backpack and quickly making his way to the only restricted exit that led to the roof.
Lance peered over the corner as he observed Pidge exit suspiciously, “Where is he going?”
The young cadet sat quietly with his various monitors set up and headphones at their highest volume, listening to the communication interference. Lance quietly toed over as the larger Samoan teen crawled slowly behind. A little glimmer flickered in his blue eyes as an idea quickly hatched. He knelt down just a hair breaths away from Pidge's sitting form, a roguish smile stretching his lips. Pidge remained unaware even as long fingers gently lifted the right earbud and suddenly whispered a ticklish voice into his ear.
“You come out here to rock out?” The Latino boy held back a satisfied chuckle at the other’s startled and girlish scream.
Pidge grunted then registers that the intruders are just his teammates. Unsurprised, yet again, by Lance’s prankster tendencies.
“Oh, Lance, Hunk- uh no just…” He glanced briefly at his tech setup, "looking at stars.”
The lie fell flat as Lance observed the obviously home-made tech, “Hey where’d you get this stuff? This doesn’t look anything like Garrison tech.”
Pidge puffed up his chest, “I built it.”
Hunk makes the mistake of touching the small satellite dish Pidge made, “You built all this?”
“Stop that-!”
Pidge retaliated with a swift smack to his offending fingers and continued to explain that with this tech he can scan all the way to the edges of their solar system. Lance immediately clocked Pidge’s true intentions, knowing that the youngest member became absolutely ballistic anytime the Kerberos Mission is so much as mentioned. He wondered curiously why Pidge would be so obsessed with that particular failed mission. Lance asked as much, with a knowing smile, leaving a mixture of surprised and frustrated dejection to hunch Pidge's shoulders. As Lance’s questioning continued Hunk attempted to slyly touch the homemade equipment again, earning him a deadly glare and warning from Pidge.
“Look Pidge, if we’re gonna bond as a team, we can’t have any secrets.”
Pidge relented with a sigh and the spring breeze slightly ruffled his chestnut hair, “Fine. But the world as you know it is about to change. The Kerberos Mission wasn’t lost because of some malfunction or crew error-”
Hunk had at some point reached for the dish one final time, snubbing out the last of Pidge’s patience, “-STOP TOUCHING MY EQUIPMENT!!!”
He whined pathetically and dramatically fell in defeat.
“...So, I’ve been scanning the system and picking up alien radio chatter.”
Hunk perked from the floor, “Whoa, what? Aliens?!”
Lance dropped his brows, unamused, “OK, so you’re insane. Got it.”
Pidge scoffed, offended, “I’m serious! They keep repeating the only word I can make out: “Voltron.” And tonight, it’s going crazier than I’ve ever heard it!”
Lance's face softened curiously, “How crazy-?”
The base's alarms blared wildly as Commander Iverson addressed the intercom, “Attention, students. This is not a drill. We are on complete lockdown! Security situation Zulu Niner. Repeat: All students are to remain in barracks until further notice.”
A blazing asteroid hurled through the atmosphere rapidly. Pidge quickly grabbed for his night vision binoculars noting it was a spaceship. But before he can observe further, Lance snatched the binoculars as Pidge dangled helplessly from under Lance’s stronger grip. The burning meteor quickly zooms past and crashes with a shuddering boom just a mile or so south of them.
“Holy shit! That’s not one of ours!” Lance’s initial disbelief quickly melts away to awe.
Pidge’s smile matched his, “No, it’s one of theirs!”
“So, what? There really are aliens out there?!” Hunk trembled a bit as the two others quickly packed up and hurried for the roof exit.
“We’ve got to see that ship!” Excitement radiated from Pidge’s small frame.
“Hunk, come on!”
Everything happened in a blur, the garrison vehicle bays opened as several land rovers made their way over to the impact sight. Hunk flicks between them and the gathering garrison crew.
“This is the worst team-building exercise ever…”