Part 1

Returning

Done. He was done with the final job of the day on the farm, watering the (rather large) vegetable garden at dusk. This task was quite easy compared to everything else that he did during the day, yet it was still hard – mainly because he didn't want to be done with it. Lance's daily routine for the past three years had ended with this, and after it, the distractions ended. Life on the farm was, as he told everyone who asked, a simple life. It was hard work that took his mind off of everything he had experienced in the war. It took his mind off of her. Of course, it was hard to take his mind off of her when everything around him so distinctly reminded him of her. Every tree, every leaf, every form of life that she had fought so hard to protect – it gave him that same longing, that aching feeling in his chest that made him wish he could just see her one more time. When he didn't dream of her, his dreams were often nightmares. The diagnosis of PTSD had been no surprise to him, and even Shiro's initial push to help everyone on the team through their issues had been mostly ignored by Lance. That had probably been a bad idea in retrospect, even if Shiro did reach out to him often to see how he was doing. Out of all his friends, Shiro was the best at seeing through Lance's façade, likely because he had done something similar in the past. Lance appreciated his worry, but there was something almost comfortable about the grief – like he didn't have to worry about anything else except his work and his grief. It gave his life structure.

He ate mostly in silence, chatting a bit with his family. Veronica was off working with the garrison on a humanitarian mission that sought to rebuild planets still devasted from the war. Lance's family had done their best to help him cope and build up his spirits over the years, and he loved them for it. Whenever they did sense that something was wrong, they would do their best to counsel him in their cheesy familial way. It helped to know that they were there for him, although he sometimes wondered if he really should be living with them. In his mind he had become something of a burden at this point. As these thoughts lingered in his mind, he was surprised as his niece ran up to him. "Uncle Lance! There's someone here to see you!"

He was a bit taken aback. He wasn't supposed to be seeing anyone today, and he had no engagements scheduled, but he wouldn't be very surprised if one of his old teammates was here to see him. "Who is it?" "I don't know! I've never seen him before!"

Indeed, the man who appeared in the doorframe was one unfamiliar to Lance. He was of about average height, and stood with a smile in the clothes of someone who clearly had arrived on Altea only recently. "I apologize for the intrusion, I was told I could find Lance McClain here?"

"Ah, I think he's a bit preoccupied at the moment." Lance's mother answered for him. "That's perfectly alright, I apologize again." The man reiterated. As he began to walk away, Lance broke the silence. "I'll talk to you. I'm Lance McClain."

The man had introduced himself as Martin Turan, the founder of Turan Systems. "Turan Systems?" Lance questioned "The intergalactic developer?" "Yes, we've gained an integral foothold in the galactic rebuilding process promoted by the coalition and the garrison. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." He said as they stepped outside to continue the conversation. "Well, what did you want to talk to me about?" Lance asked, legitimately curious.

Turan stopped to observe the landscape around them. "First I must ask" he said in a mystified tone "Farming? Really? A man of your talents?"

"It's a simple life." Lance responded, as he always did.

"Lonely, I'd imagine."

"Well, I've got my family, my niece and nephew, and it's rewarding work. I manage." The words struck a chord with him though. It was lonely.

"That's not why I'm here though. Mr. McClain, -" "call me Lance."

"Well, Lance, Turan Systems has noticed that, since the universe-altering event three years ago, several uncharted planets have appeared in the outer systems of the universe. The Coalition has been too busy rebuilding and integrating previously devastated planets to explore these areas, so I've recently gained permission to mount a private expedition into these uncharted areas using some of my personal ships. I would like to offer you the chance to accompany me."

"Me? But why? You don't even know me!"

"True, but since the worlds were presumably created due to the heroic actions of the Voltron Coalition three years ago, I thought it would be disrespectful to explore the area without one of the paladins. And who better than the paladin who bears the Altean mark of the chosen?"

"Well – I mean – I'm just not sure I'm up for it." Lance offered dejectedly. He really wasn't. He'd settled into a comfortable routine on Altea. One he wasn't sure he would leave for the rest of his life.

"I apologize if you find this next offer… insulting. But if it's a question of money, you can name your price."

"No, no, its not that, uh, Mr. Turan?" "Please, call me Martin."

"I have my duties here and I just feel like I'm not meant for that life anymore. I've played my part in space adventures, man."

Turan sighed. "If you say so, Lance. I'm staying in the capital for the next week before I depart on my expedition if you change your mind." He handed Lance a shimmering card. "It has my room number and credentials to contact me if needed. I wish you the best of luck in the future. I hope you might reconsider your decision."

"Well… I'll see." Lance responded.

"Very well, then." Was the only response he got from Turan before departure.

Lance's family had been thoroughly intrigued about the visit. He had initially attempted to brush it off as "Nothing important." However, after a bit of probing from his mother, he eventually relented and told her about the offer he had been given. They sat there together in silence.

"I don't know, Lance." She began. "Something like that might be good for you."

"Really? What do you mean, mom?"

"I'm just saying, you've been doing the same thing for almost three years! You've done a lot of great things in your life, maybe you could go and just, I don't know, get out there. Get your mind off things."

Lance sighed. "I know what you're thinking, mom. I don't need to do that. I'm more comfortable here."

His mother gave him a knowing smile. "Alright sweetie. You're always appreciated here. Oh, I forgot to tell you, Coran wanted to see you at some point."

After Allura died, Coran had been even worse than Lance. He hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye, and he felt like he had completely failed Alfor. His grief for Allura had known no bounds, but he had eventually put himself fully into the new Altea and its culture and governance. He lived in the capital, rather close to Lance, so the two still kept in close contact and had remained quite good friends. As Lance walked up behind Coran, he could see the smile light up the bombastic Altean's face. "Hello there, Lance! I was wondering where you were!"

"Kept ya waiting, did I?" Lance asked with some of his old quippyness that he now only reserved for his former teammates and close friends. "What's up, Coran?"

"I… Well, I wanted to check up on you, Lance. I haven't had much time to see you since the third anniversary, and even then, Shiro's wedding was soon after and everyone was so busy. How have you been holding up?"

"I'm getting by, Coran. I really do appreciate your concern."

Coran's expression softened. "Lance, I know its still hard for you. It is for me too, actually. But I do want to help you."

Desperate to change the subject, Lance asked "Coran, is someone named Martin Turan in the capital?" Coran looked at him curiously. "Why, yes. Major human entrepreneur. Using the capital as a starting point for his expedition into uncharted space. But.."

"He visited me today and asked me to go on the expedition with him."

"Well! That's a bit of a shock!" I have to wonder why?"

"He said he wanted a paladin to explore the uncharted space that was created… he thinks it would be disrespectful not to have one of us, and that my marks make me the most worthy."

"Well… Altean markings on a human do give you something special. And from the study of the uncharted areas, there were trace signals that resembled the Voltron lions… almost as if they were searching for something out there as well…"

Or… someone! The hope went into Lance's head just as quickly as it left, a fool's hope. But he let it linger… "Coran, do you think I should go?"

"Well, Lance… it might actually be good for you. You might need something like this…"

"I'll sleep on it." Was Lance's response, but he already knew what he was going to do.