Disclaimers: Disclaimer: I do not own Aliens, Predator, Aliens vs. Predator, or Voltron: Legendary Defender and the only characters that I have any say in the usage of are the few OCs included in the story. Please support each of the two products official releases.

Hi": Speaking

'Hi': Thinking

"Hi": Yelling

"Hi": Flashback/ Messages

Author's Note: Hello everybody sorry for the delay. I just wanted to let you all know that I intend to publish at least one chapter every month, and trust the chapters will soon be getting longer. I hope that by doing this I can prevent the story line of the fic from getting all messed up due to rushed updates.

Thank you for electing to read this newest chapter and I hope you all enjoy.

Sincerely,

JackieRobinson

Prologue

There's an old saying "the more things change, the more they stay the same" and ultimately, that saying best fits the realities of space. For there are few things that change about space. It's harshness. Its overall, rather than its known, vastness and the total, rather than known, number of planets that lay within it. The harshness of its vacuum and the likelihood that a human could survive within it without any protective gear. Or, finally, that in the end the chances are rather low that we will be able to truly known all of its secrets. However, one thing that hadn't ever, and looked to never, change about it was the fact that for the foreseeable near and distant future it would contain a small, blue planet called Earth. Especially in terms of its inhabitants relationship with space travel.

Yet much had changed in the many decades since Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin had become the first man to orbit the earth in 1961. In that time man had made it to the moon, to Mars, and to Jupiter in its quest to explore as much of the cosmos, the space explorers occasionally colonies newly discovered planets as they went. Even the method of space exploration had changed when two large multinational companies, Weyland Industries and the Yutani Corporation, had come together to create Weyland-Yutani and grab a monopoly on the manufacturing the badly needed parts for the spaceships that made these trips. Eventually these two would spearhead the change of space travel from being exploration focused to colony & mining focused, with the end results being the rapid development of numerous areas of the space travel industries to keep up with the demand.

But like always with any sort of rapid, unchecked, and unquestioned development naturally came corruption, it was this reality that made the current sceneario possible. As one Ellen Sanda stood on the bridge of GSS, or Garrison Service Ship, Kerberos, on the brink of aiding in what could be the single biggest development in human military technology. Well, that was assuming that all went as planned.

"Admiral, we're nearing our preplanned location" a voice called, prompting Senada to turn and focus in on one specific part of the massive ship's bridge where most of the upper level navigation computers were located.

"Good, set the navigational computers to the final position" she ordered, causing the man to turn around and began typing in the necessary commands to get the computer to take on its next segmented leg to their destination.

"At what time do you believe that we will be arriving at the destination above the planet Arus?" she asked, causing a seperate officer to turn around and answer with.

"It's expected that we'll arrive sometime around 0800hrs."

"Thank you" she answered, causing the officer in question to return his attention back to his post before, while she turned around to face her subordinate officer.

"Commander Iverson what's the status of our watch rotation?"

"If I recall correctly ma'am the next Captain Dyatlov should be arriving with the next shift in a few minutes, I can give him and his subordinates the briefing on our situation so far it you'd like ma'am" Iverson answered, indicating that the Kerberos would be in good hands if left in his hands. Of course, Sanda already knew that to be true, as she knew that with the sole exception of a major electrical failure to down the ship. Even if it was of the older Conestoga class variant that Weyland-Yutani had by now largely abandoned, a fact that allowed Garrison ships to finally be distinguishable from their counterparts.

"Alright then Commander give the Captain a thorough run down as to the requirements for the last legs of the mission, and don't forget to remind him to not begin the tests until after the watchs have switch again" she calmly instructed, earning her a nod and a salute from her subordinate. Before she turned and made her way back to the her personal quarters, which was normally assigned to Garrison captain and offered a degree of comfort not found on any USMC ship.

Of course the reason for such a difference lay entirely in the different jobs each group performed, one group kept the space lanes safe while the other used them to deal with planety conflict. One lived in their ships while keeping people safe, the other used the ships as a shuttle to go where people needed to be kept safe. A minor difference in ideals that resulted in a major difference in excecution.

'But still a difference nonetheless' ellen thought as she entered into her quarters and sat on the small bed before withdrawing the holopad that contained the private message she'd received from the Garrison headquarters a few hours ago. A rarity in her line of work, but a rarity that gradually became easy to explain as she read over the message's contents for only the second time since she'd received it.

Dear Admiral Sanda,

You are a smart woman, without a doubt the smartest of your class and debetably one of the smartest to still be in the employment of the Naval branch of the Galaxy Garrison and it's for this reason I'm sending you this message now. As you probably know an admiral of your status has no business being on a normal research mission, even ones concerning the field tests of the newer dry lithium-hydride reactors in current use. So I will not waste your time with any of the traditional formalities. In short, Admiral, you have been sent here to test the capabilities of the technology that lays within your cargo hold. Specifically that of a large space craft with the design of a possibly extraterrestrial craft located in the Saharan desert of Earth, which took required great pains to move out of its original spot of discovery let alone into your spacecraft.

The reason that, is spite of this difficulties and those of securing a permit for such a massive nuclear test on such short notice, our need to do this test can be entirely summed up in one name. Weyland-Yutani. It's no secret that this private company is not only a major player in private affairs, but even the affairs of the the United Americas and the Three World Empire giving them unprecedented power. This test will change that, it will change everything, and finally give the Garrison a reputation for being more than a simple space high way patrol organization. But this can only be achieved if everything goes exactly to plan, otherwise this test might as well have not happened.

Thanks to the recent processing of your paperwork I can personally guarantee that this will be your last trip to space, unless a major conflict breaks out, and as such will heavily impact your legacy. So what do you desire to be remembered as? The woman who changed the future of the Garrison? Or another nameless admiral who only aided in maintaining its place in the status quo? The choise is yours.

Honestly,

Vice Chief of Garrison Operations Alexei Yagovich

With Ellen letting out a brief sigh as she put away the reminder to the organizaton she served was only willing to associate itself with success. On numerous occasions going so far as to entirely dismiss the occurance of naval accidents in space and refusing to bury the crews of these unfortunate accidents in any sort of ceremony. How this was not entirely their fault, after all if they wanted to have any hope of rivaling the space exploits of Weyland-Yutani it was critical that the Garrison retain a sheet as clean as that of their rival. Even if it meant that they had to pursue the same ethically questionable practices to do so.

A subject which she couldn't get out of her head, even as she lay in bed.

The actions aboard the Keberos could not have further contradicted the action, or specifically lack of action, that was going on nearly half a galaxy away in the Galaxy Garrison headuquarters in Austin, Texas. Located in one of the building's newer rooms sat a single man in his 30s by the rather uninspiring name of Eustace Breckenridge.

A name that sounded about as old fashioned as the people who'd given it to the man. In this case being his grandparents who'd managed to convince his parents to continue the old family tradition of passing on names from ancestors to keep every generation informed of their own history. It was a great idea, or at least it was until it landed the unfortunate man in question with the name Eustace.

However, it was not the incovenience of his name, or the interest it brough him from the other species he met in the Headquarters that had caused Officer Breckeridge to retire from his morning committee meeting early. But rather a single piece of news that he was scheduled to receive some time in the next 9 to 10 hours. News that, assuming that it along with what was desired, would cause a fundamental shift in everything about the current political situation of the Eart. Specifically the Galaxy Garrison's place in it's security pecking order.

'But all that must change, will change when this is over,' he thought as he looked up from his appointment book and down to his holocommunicator before adding.

'At least it should, if the capabilites of the Garrison are as grand as they say they are and not empty words used to blow smoke'. An important distinct that, as the Chief Officer of Garrison Public Relations, Eustace wish he understand the distinct difference between. Especially with how easy the actual military officers of the Garrison made it sound, but of course it would be easy for them to understand such a difference. After all they were far more familiar with the more secretive meaning behind their tactical lingo.

"Officer Breckeridge, you're 10 O'clock patient is here" an automated voice called as he proceeded to look at his appointment book, making note that said client was a few minutes early before returning back to the comminicator.

"Good, send her in" he answered, before watching the doors to the room open. Entirely unaware of the events which were transpiring around him, and the ones that would occur because of the decisions made by the security ministers around him. As well as the effect they'd have on not only the United Americas, but the world as a whole.