CHAPTER ONE
"Every year, I have the great pleasure of watching new, up and coming cadets enter into the Galaxy Garrison Academy with dreams of changing the universe. In their eyes I see the hopefulness of their youth beaming like a beacon in the dark, their futures standing before them as open as space itself. The day of commencement is filled with great expectations of what the next four years has in store. Of meeting new friends, growing up into your own, and one day graduating as officers into the ranks of the Galaxy Garrison.
"Bitter sweetly, those four years pass by all too quickly, as they have for all of you here today. It is with a proud and heavy heart that I stand before you now. I have watched all of you these past years as you've grown, looking over you like a doting mother. And as all mothers must do, it is now time that I watch all of you leave the nest. I am honored to have had the privilege to be in your lives, and it is my great hope that you will take the lessons that your professors and friends have taught you over the course of your time here and apply them to your lives. Not just to your careers as officers of Galaxy Garrison, but apply those lessons to who you are as people.
"The world outside these walls is not a pleasant one. You will find that it is filled with suffering and hardship. You will have to bare witness to a great many things throughout your lives. But I implore you to take one valuable lesson away from the academy, if nothing else: you are not alone. Garrison officers are always there for one another, no matter the circumstances. Sitting amongst you now are not only your fellow graduates, but the alumni that came before you. Listen to their wisdom and follow their guidance. Together we can do more than we ever imagined possible."
"Is it just me, or does the old bat's speech seem longer than normal?" Keith looked over at the man sitting next to him. He was a young guy, about Keith's own age. He wore the uniform of a Garrison officer, but if Keith didn't know better he never would have pegged him for one. His hair was over regulation length, his posture was far too relaxed, and his overall mannerisms suggested that the guy's idea of a long day's work consisted of sipping martinis on a beach.
Normally, this kind of guy would be the last person Keith would ever associate with.
However, he happened to be Keith's best friend.
"You say that every year, Lance."
"Because every year it's true. But more so this year. I mean, how long does it take to tell two hundred plus students that 'hey, congratulations, you've become adults. Welcome to the harsh realities of life?' Too damn long if you ask me."
"It's your own fault, you know."
Lance looked over at Keith like he'd just shot him. "How is it my fault the old hag takes so damn long to say a few meaningless words? I didn't write the damn speech."
"No," said Keith, "you're just the one who doesn't know how to read a calendar. You're only anxious because you made plans with your latest catch and you forgot that we were required to come to the ceremony."
Lance crossed his arms and slouched down in his seat. "You're a real sour puss, you know that, Larson?"
Keith smiled to himself. He and Lance argued a lot, but they both new it was all in fun. When push came to shove, there was no one else Keith would rather have at his back.
"And now," General Armon continued, "it is my great pleasure to award special honors to one outstanding cadet. Over the course of my time as Dean of the Academy I have had the honor of watching some of the greatest minds come through these doors. But, in all my years, I had never imagined I would be able to see such an outstanding young man grace these halls with his achievements. Not only is he the youngest cadet to even enter into the Academy, but he is also the youngest to graduate with the highest achievement that can be earned. Garrison Academy Class of 2497, please help me welcome your Valedictorian, Peter Carson."
Keith watched as a young boy rose from his seat in the fourth row and walked towards the stage where General Armon stood behind a podium. From where he and Lance sat it was hard to see the people on stage, so Keith watched the large monitor located behind it. From what he could tell, Cadet Carson didn't look like much. He was a scrawny boy, probably no more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. His big brown eyes were hidden behind a pair of oversized glasses that just about swallowed his face whole.
Carson walked across the stage to receive his Valedictorian's medal from General Armon. The boy barely came up to her shoulder. If he were standing next to a full grown man, he would barely clear the man's elbow.
"Just how old is Cadet Carson, anyway?"
"Well," said Lance, "according to my sources he's fourteen. Which would have put him at ten-years-old when he entered the Academy. Sounds like cradle robbing if you ask me. I guess the war has really made the Alliance desperate."
Keith couldn't agree more. The war with the Galra Empire had been going on for years and even though, according to the media, the Alliance had the upper hand Galra was still able to hold them at bay. Still, he couldn't understand the need to drag a ten-year-old kid into it. Was Galaxy Garrison in such desperate need for soldiers that they would even take a child?
"Excuse me, sir," a woman appeared next to them and saluted. "A message from General Didding." She held out a small piece of paper in her hand. Keith saluted her back and took the paper from her. She then turned on her heel and walked away.
"Didding, huh," said Lance. "Doesn't he know it's rude to pass notes in class? I wonder what that old man wants with you."
"Us," Keith corrected as he read over the note. "He wants us to report to his office after the ceremony."
"What?! Oh, man. Just when I thought this day couldn't get any worse."
"I wonder what he wants."
"Who knows? He's always harping on our asses about something. Maybe he found out I was the one who swapped out his shaving cream for bacon grease." Lance laughed nostalgically. "That was a fun day."
The two of them sat through the rest of the ceremony patiently. But Keith couldn't help but wonder what it was that General Didding wanted with the two of them.
Brigadier General Urhine Didding was in charge of assigning missions to officers and their companies. It was possible that the two of them were finally going to be re-assigned. But, more likely, Didding was just going to chew them out like so many times before. Despite the fact that the general was not their immediate superior officer he had always gone to great lengths to give the both of them a lashing anytime they - mostly Lance - did something stupid.
Keith couldn't think of anything either of them had done in the recent past that would warrant the general's scrutiny, but considering their history, it probably wasn't necessary.
At the very end of the ceremony General Armon came back to the podium to give a final farewell to the cadets.
"And so," she said, "it is my very great honor to welcome you all into the ranks of Galaxy Garrison. May you all: Walk with peace."
"Die with honor." A chorus of voices echoed throughout the auditorium as every officer in the room recited the Galaxy Garrison code. It was short and simple, but hardly sweet.
"Personally," said Lance as they began to make their way out of the auditorium, "I think they should come up with a better catch phrase. I mean, come on, 'Die with honor.' I'd rather not die for these ungrateful assholes if it's all the same to them. In fact it's pretty high on my list of things not do in life. At least not until I've found my fortune and made it with the most beautiful woman on every planet in the Alliance. Then we can talk about dying. Maybe."
"Well," Keith said, turning his head back to Lance as they entered the lift to take them to the ground floor of the building, "if that's the case then you'd better find the fountain of youth on our next mission. 'Cause I seriously doubt you could get any woman on any planet to make it with you if you keep using those stupid one-liners you use."
Lance looked offended. "They're not stupid."
"I've heard them. They're stupid."
"Well, maybe," he said with a good-natured shrug, "but they work. You say anything with enough charisma to a woman who's got enough alcohol in her system to drown a Karthonian mule and even you could get lucky." Keith gave his friend a look that should have told him to keep his mouth shut, but Lance just shrugged. "Miracles happen."
Exiting the lift, the two attempted to make their way through the crowded hallways to the exit. Graduating students and their families gathered around windows and doors trying to take pictures. Keith was sure he'd accidently been snapped in a couple photos. Turning back to talk to Lance, he found him with his arms around a beautiful young girl, her mother, and younger sister as another woman snapped their picture.
"LANCE!" His buddy donned a pseudo-surprised look.
"Oh, sorry." Bidding farewell to the ladies, Lance made his way through the crowd back to Keith.
"I swear," Keith said, half to himself, "it's like I have to babysit you every minute of every day. Otherwise you'd probably end up blowing up the whole fleet."
"Not every day. Just the days that end in 'Y'."
"Not funny."
Lance sighed. "Yeah, I know. That joke's like, what, four hundred years old? I definitely should retire it, but it fit so well, don't you think?"
It was Keith's turn to sigh.
"Unbelievable."
"Oh, buck up, Larson. You know you love me."
"Yeah, like a massage from a lypher."
"Don't diss those. A buddy of mine had one once. Said it was wonderful until the talons started to rip his flesh off." Exiting the arena where the graduation had been held, they started off across the campus to where the High Command of Galaxy Garrison was located.
Consisting of one large skyscraper, the tallest building on Earth, surrounded by five smaller, interconnecting buildings, the High Command was where every officer in Garrison hoped to hold an office in one day. It was the central point of the entire fleet. It glistened like a beacon against the bright rays of the sun, its glass windows and lining reflecting the light, making it stand out for miles around.
The Garrisons, the five highest ranked officers of the armada, held their offices on the top floors of the central building. To be a Garrison was said to be equivalent to being a king. It was Keith's life long goal.
"Hey! You're having that wet dream again, aren't you," Lance asked as they walked up the stairs to the High Command. "You know the one where you become a Garrison. Not to be confused with the one where you dance naked in the galley, drunk off your ass on Falusion Fire, completely embarrassing yourself in front of our entire graduating class and Lieutenant General Armon two days before your promotion to captain." Keith stopped dead in his tracks, wishing he could kill his best friend. "Oh, yeah, that's right. I wasn't supposed to tell you that happened. My bad."
"Your bad was saying my bad."
"Again, you love me."
Yeah, but there were days when he seriously wondered why.
It took several minutes for the two of them to reach their destination. Didding's office was on the far, far, far corner of the farthest building in the Command. It was common knowledge that the Brigadier General had an aversion to, well, everyone. It must have really cooked his goose since his job forced him to interact with, well, everyone.
The two of them stood outside the general's door for several minutes, just staring at the gold lettering on the glass.
"Do we have to go in?"
Keith wasn't thrilled about seeing General Didding anymore than Lance was but, if they were ever going to get off the planet they needed the general's permission to do it. After being on the probationary list for the past two years, they both might have finally earned the right to go off-world.
Unfortunately, this was just a necessary step in that direction.
"Man up, Hammell. You're the reason we're in this mess to begin with."
"I know," Lance said, gingerly, "I know. But seriously, the man's probably going to croak in another year or so. He's too fat to live much longer. I say we just wait it out, and then come back when they replace him. The next guy can't be nearly as bad, right."
"I may be fat, Lieutenant Hammell, but I'm not dead yet."
They both cringed inwardly. Keith wanted to shoot Lance as they heard General Didding address them from behind. Turning an abrupt about-face, it was obvious the general wasn't pleased. A few inches shorter than both of them, General Didding was still a power-house commander, even in his old age. Though his round face, oval-shaped dark brown eyes, and short gray hair almost gave him the appearance of the kind uncle who brought presents home for everyone when he came to visit on holidays, the continuous scowl he donned as a part of his uniform instantly made him seem more like Mr. Scrooge, rather than merry Saint Nick.
The general seemed calm on the outside, but the vein that throbbed in his temple was a dead giveaway for how dead they both were going to be very soon.
"In fact," said Didding, "I even managed to make it back to my office without breaking a sweat. Not bad for - what was the phrase you used - 'a portly, overbearing imbecile who wouldn't know the inside of a space fighter unless it was covered in animal lard, deep-fried, and smothered in gravy?'"
Lance hissed as if he'd been burned. Keith closed his eyes, dumbfounded by his friend's ignorance. So much for going off world. The two of them were probably going to be scrubbing toilets on Pluto for the rest of their lives. Lance's inability to keep his mouth shut was going to get them both killed one day. Keith was certain of it.
"You heard that, huh?"
"Yes, Hammell, I did. My suggestion to you both is to lay off the Fire. Neither of you can handle it properly."
The general moved past them into his office. His secretary, a cute female cadet with brown hair pulled back into a tight bun, stood at attention when he entered the room, as well as a man and boy who were sitting in a set of chairs off to the side.
"Sir," she said, "Lieutenants McKleven and Carson are here to see you."
Keith was surprised to see - the now- Second Lieutenant Carson sitting in the General's waiting room. The kid really was as small and spritely as Keith had figured. The top of the boy's head barely came up to his own chest. And standing next to the mammoth of a man that was Lieutenant McKleven made the boy seem almost like a toddler.
Didding nodded to the girl and motioned for the four of them - McKleven, Carson, Lance, and Keith - to follow him into his office. He shut the door behind them.
"At ease, gentlemen."
The four of them relaxed as Didding sat behind the large desk in the middle of the room.
"As you are all aware, the Alliance maintains a strict code where by any of it's allied planets may acquire the assistance of Galaxy Garrison, its troops, fleets, or weapons in the event they are unable to protect themselves from any and all forces that threaten them." The general recited the words with a dull, dead tone that said he had had to say it one too many times over the years.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and squint his eyes shut as if the words gave him a headache.
"Have any of you heard of Planet Altea?"
"Sir," Carson took a step forward. "Planet Altea, located in Outer Quadrant Delta-five. Governed by the monarchy established in Earth-Year 2015 by King Quilcus I. Joined the Alliance in Earth-Year 2356."
Didding kept his eyes closed, as if bored by the boy's obviously vast knowledge of the planet.
"As always, Lieutenant Carson, your plethora of mind-numbing facts has succeeded in putting me to sleep, so before I fall victim to any more of your infinite wisdom let me get to the point."
Didding clicked a panel on his desk. The wall behind him turned into a huge vid-screen, displaying a large multi-colored mecha.
"This, gentlemen" he said, pointing to the mecha, "is Voltron. It is Planet Altea's one and only line of defense against Emperor Zarkon and his Galra army who are currently focusing most of their forces there. For the last six years Galaxy Garrison has had its finest pilots deployed on Altea to operate Voltron. However, during their last battle with Zarkon four of its pilots were killed.
"The four of you will be traveling to Altea tonight to replace them." Keith was stunned to hear this news. Usually, Galaxy Garrison gave their pilots more than a few hours notice before shipping them off-world.
He had been hopeful that he and Lance would be getting off-world orders, but to be told that they were to travel to the other side of the galaxy tonight was more than he had anticipated.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one.
"Sir," said the other lieutenant who had come in with Carson. He was a giant of a man, standing a good foot taller than Keith, his clean-shaven head glistening against the harsh light of Didding's office.
"Save it, McKleven. This isn't an offer, it's an order. And it's out of my hands. I've made your arguments to the Garrisons, but they insisted," the general spat the word as if it left a bitter taste on his tongue, "that you be on board that ship. Tonight." McKleven straitened his back in obvious distaste.
Didding suddenly looked ten years older. He slumped into his chair, glaring off into the distance at some unknown object that he obviously despised. When he addressed them next, Keith could tell it was as a man, not a general.
"I understand what a shock this must be for you all, and if it were up to me I'd send someone else, but it's not. The Garrisons want the best, and, as much as I hate to admit it" - he narrowed his eyes at Lance - "that would be the four of you.
"I've sent all of you the need-to-know details pertaining to your mission. You'll rendezvous at hanger 23-701 at 2200 hours. Don't be late. I suggest you all take the rest of the day to get your affairs in order. Dismissed."
There was a strange catch in the general's voice that made it sound like getting their "affairs in order" included writing out their wills. It gave Keith a very uneasy feeling.
As the four of them began to exit the office, Didding called them back.
Keith could see the years catch up to Didding in that moment and it made him curious. What did the general know that he wasn't telling them?
"Walk with peace."
"Die with honor." Keith, Carson, and McKleven all answered automatically.
"Forget dying," Lance said. "I've said it before; I have no intention of dying for these people."
For the first time in, probably the man's whole life, Didding actually smiled. Only a half-smile, granted, but Keith was sure that it had been a long time since even that much had crossed the man's face. It actually made him seem slightly human.
"Then may God be in the wind, boys. Where you're going, you're going to need Him."
...
"Did anyone else pick up on the creepy vibe the general was giving off just now," Lance asked as the four of them left General Didding's office. The corridor outside was mostly empty, a few assistants running back and forth, doing errands for various high-ranking officers. It normally was busier during this time of day, but everyone had most likely taken off for the graduation. "What was he talking about, anyway?"
Keith wasn't sure what the general had meant to imply by his bleak tone, but it was obvious that Didding definitely knew something about their mission that he wasn't telling them. A sick feeling settled into the pit of Keith's stomach. He didn't like the idea of heading into anything, much less a mission, without knowing the full details of the situation. He hoped that he was just being paranoid.
"Obviously, it's a highly dangerous mission," said Lt. Carson with a bit more enthusiasm than Keith would have liked. "Gaa, this is so awesome. I can't believe I'm going off-world right after graduation. Wait till I tell my folks. My sister's going to be so jealous."
"How old are you anyway, kid," Lance asked teasingly, "like, twelve or something?"
"I'll be fifteen in three months, for you information," Carson said, walking a little taller as he did so.
"So, you really are just a snot-nosed brat, aren't you?" Lance paused for a second. "You're like a super-genius or something, right?"
"Yup," said Carson, proudly. "Name's Pete Carson, but you guys can call me Pidge. It's the name my sister gave me."
"Short for 'Pigeon'?"
"Yeah, it's her inside joke. She's two years younger than me, but she thinks she's older because girls mature faster than boys. I can't wait to see the smile drain from her face when I tell her I just got my first mission order. That'll teach her to respect her elders."
Keith and Lance both exchanged a knowing look with one another. Neither one seemed to be comfortable with the idea of bringing a little kid along on a mission like this.
"I'm so excited!" Pidge jumped up and down as he walked. "Do you think we're going to be in a battle? That would be so cool. I can't wait to put my skills to the test. I aced all my flight-sim exams with the best marks in years, but to be able to use them in a real fight would be great. You know, those flight-sims are so realistic, but I've heard they don't compare to the real thing. Any of you guys been in combat before?"
Lance and Keith looked at each other.
"Did you beat any of the high scores on your exams, kid?" Lance asked, changing the subject.
"Nah," he said. "I tried, but my instructor said not to beat myself up over it. She said that the cadet who set them was the best she had seen in all her years at Galaxy Garrison, and that even if I didn't beat the high scores I could still give the guy a run for his money."
Lance smiled with a shit-eating grin. "Well, you know our dear ol' Keith here was the cadet who set those scores, don't ya?"
Evidently, he hadn't.
"No. Way. You're Keith Larson? I can't believe it. It's such an honor to meet you. I can't believe that I'm going on a mission with the guy who set the Alliance record for 'Most Sim Kills'. You're amazing."
The stars in Pidge's eyes made Keith want to make Lance see stars for driving such unwanted attention to his doorstep. The rank bastard really knew how to irritate him.
"That's only because this guy next to me was too drunk to shoot straight." He pointed his thumb at Lance. "If he'd been sober he would have had the high score."
"It was my birthday. What fool, besides you, stays sober on their birthday? It's not my fault they scheduled an exam that day. Idiots should have known I'd be flogged."
"Wow. Well, if it's all the same to you guys, I'm going to run on ahead. I can't wait to see the look on my sister's face when I tell her the good news. She's going to freak when she hears all this." Pidge waved them goodbye as he ran down the hall, narrowly missing a group of assistants as they crossed the corridor. As Keith watched the young boy skip about, a severe feeling of dread washed over him.
"Kinda makes you sick to your stomach, doesn't it?" The deep baritone of Lt. McKleven's voice struck Keith in an odd way. Something about it reminded him of the catch that Didding had; like they both knew what was coming and it wasn't good.
"You know something about this mission, don't you?"
McKleven sighed heavily, his massive shoulders bowing ever so slightly.
"Guess there's really no point in hiding." He spoke so quietly at first Keith wasn't sure he had heard him correctly. "We've been given an Omega mission."
Both Lance and Keith stopped dead in their tracks. Mission classes were broken up into five different groups. Omega missions were the ones where it was anticipated - no, expected - that whoever took the mission would not come back alive. And that was under the best circumstances.
Usually, such missions were given on a "volunteer" basis. Meaning, the ones who took the mission were given an option. Either take the mission or enroll in an early retirement. Didding hadn't offered them the choice.
"Oh, hell," Lance exclaimed. "Doesn't that beat all? I make it my mission in life to not die for these bastards, then they go and sign me up to do just that. Talk about irony."
Keith didn't see any humor in the situation.
Neither did McKleven.
"They have a sick way of doing that," he said. "I suggest you do as the general said and take the rest of the day to get your affairs in order." The three of them exited the building. As McKleven began to walk off, Keith called out to him.
"We never properly introduced ourselves. I'm -"
"I know who you are, Captain Larson. Lieutenant Hammell." He bowed his head respectfully to each of them. "Your reputations precede you."
"The good ones or the bad, 'cause I distinctly remember Larson, here, having more badges on his formal than I do."
"Both," he said, curtly. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have to make a phone call."
As McKleven left, leaving them standing on the steps of the High Command building, Lance let out a low whistle.
"Is it just me, or does the man have issues?"
"It's you."
"Oh, well, that's a relief. For a second there I was afraid I'd become normal and it was the world that was fucked up."
"How about we compromise. You're far from normal and the world really is fucked up."
"I can agree to that. I mean, if the world wasn't seriously screwy than you and I wouldn't be going on this mission with a kid who still wets his bed and a man headed for the chopping block."
Keith turned to Lance on his heel. The chopping block was a sick joke Lance used to describe anyone who had a kid. How the hell had Lance known that?
He held his hands up in surrender.
"Jayce told me. The gossipy bitch keeps her ear to the grindstone and in a moment of weakness I was actually listening to her. Still don't know what came over me." Jayce was a "friend" of theirs from school who, as Lance had so eloquently put it, was a gossipy bitch who lived for a good rumor. But to her credit, the information she spread around was usually true.
If McKleven really was going to be a father than it certainly explained his dire mood towards the mission. In fact, Keith was surprised the man hadn't put up more of a fight in Didding's office. If he had been in the guy's shoes, he would have pitched a hell-fit to keep from going. Having known what it was like to live without either of his parents, Keith would never want to put a child through that. Especially not his own.
"What the hell are the Garrisons thinking?"
"Beats me," Lance said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'd put my money on one thing, though."
"What's that?"
"That whatever is happening on Altea is a lot bigger than you or I can imagine."
...
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