As the first lights appeared in the sky over the unsuspecting planet, they went largely unnoticed by the people on the ground. Except for those in a position to see them who had knowledge of astronomy, of which there were relatively few, most dismissed them as bright stars or planets clustered to the right of the quarter moon. The people of Earth went about their day or night without giving them another thought, completely unaware that over the next few hours their world was about to be changed forever.
(In another time, the lights do not come for another year and a half. The first response is still the same.)
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An alarm blared from the main communications console, jerking Kolivan's attention from his strategy discussion with three senior Blades. In a couple of quick strides he crossed the room to the console, reaching over the startled operator's shoulder to bring up the message. A voice-only transmission, tagged with every emergency code the Blade possessed in order to attract immediate attention. When he hit the playback on the message, his ears flared in surprise at the voice that issued from the speakers, possibly the last he would have expected to be sending an emergency-coded transmission, before pinning back in horror as he processed the content of the message.
"Kolivan. The Blades are compromised. You need to issue an alert to recall them all immediately." Kovirak spoke rapidly, her tone laced with desperation. "Headquarters is safe. Anywhere else is suspect. I'm so sorry." There was the sound of a ragged breath being drawn. "The world-breaker has been deployed accompanied by an armada. System coordinates X-9-Y-L23. Third world. Tell Voltron. Hurry. I'll do what I can. May Marmora save us all."
The message ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving a ringing silence in the command room of the Blade of Marmora headquarters as those present stared at each other in horror.
It took Kolivan a moment to shake himself free of his shock, composure entirely gone at the brutal revelations. Kovirak. He still suspected that she was the one who had betrayed them. But there was regret in her voice, and something told him that if all her words before had been lies, this, if nothing else, was grim truth. He snarled, taking charge once more. There was no time to waste. "Prepare to record a hyperwave message to the Castle of Lions." He snapped out, the comm officer scurrying to obey. "And you," he turned to the Blades he'd been conversing with. "Retrieve the luxite box mounted across from Marmora's Stone. Hurry. Your family's lives depend on it."
(In another time, there is no warning given. Only the sudden appearance of a fleet, their safe haven surrounded. The hidden headquarters is breached and the Blades slaughtered one by one as they fight to defend themselves and each other.
Kolivan is the last to fall, in the blood-soaked rubble of Marmora's Stone.)
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Keith took a deep breath, clenching his hands at his sides. He could do this. No matter what the fear racing in his chest said. Gathering himself, he knocked at the door in front of him. There was a shuffling noise on the other side and a moment later, it slid open to reveal a familiar face. Lance's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight of him. "Keith? What's up, buddy?"
"Lance...can we, um...talk?" Keith wrapped his arms around himself nervously and fought the urge to bolt. "Privately?"
"Uh, yeah, of course. Come on in." The blue paladin stepped back and out of the way, gesturing for him to enter. Accepting the invitation, Keith stepped inside, looking around as he did so. He'd never been in Lance's room before, and it was simultaneously nothing like he'd expected and yet even more suited to the other teen than what he'd pictured. Possessions were neatly put away aside from the familiar jacket hanging on the back of the chair, and the desk had a neat row of pretty wooden boxes on it whose contents the red paladin could only begin to guess at. Even the bed was properly made, although the sheets were rumpled where they'd been lain on. That was where Lance seated himself, patting the bed beside him in a silent offer for Keith to join him. "What's on your mind, Keith?"
Keith hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside the blue paladin, drawing one knee up to his chest and hugging it. "Just...give me a sec." He said quietly. Now that he was here his carefully rehearsed words seemed to have vanished along with his nerve and he fumbled to get them back.
"Of course. Take your time." Lance rested his elbows on his knees, no trace of impatience in his tone or posture, and Keith felt a surge of gratitude. The other teen was always so kind and understanding, even with Keith's awkwardness and temper. That reminder gave him a surge of confidence. He could do this. No matter what the outcome, Lance wasn't going to treat him any differently after this, it just wasn't the kind of person he was. But he needed to do this while he had the chance.
He tugged at his gloves, trying to figure out where to start. "Uh...it's sort of...complicated. So just hear me out, okay?" Lance glanced over at him, giving him a slow nod even as his brows furrowed in confusion, and Keith took a deep breath. He locked his gaze on his own lap, not wanting to struggle with trying to read Lance's facial expressions right now when he needed to focus on putting his words in order.
"I...you've probably guessed by now I didn't have the best life growing up. Awkward gay Asian being bounced around the foster systems in the Southern U.S. from the age of six. Not exactly a recipe for good times." He picked at his gloves again. He needed to find some thread, that seam was starting to come apart. "Even Shiro doesn't know most of it, and he knows more than anyone else. Except maybe Alejandro." He added. He could see how much his older self trusted his partner, from the way they acted together. He trusted him even more than Keith trusted Shiro now, and before he'd met the two time travellers he hadn't thought such a thing was possible. It surprised him, to say the least, but also left a spark of hope burning in his chest that all his fears hadn't been able to put out. "It...left me pretty messed up, to be honest. Lots of issues."
"I did kinda notice that." Lance's voice was soft and level. "I admit I kinda thought you were just a dick at first." Now there was embarrassment, and Keith could easily picture him rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "But as soon as I got to know you better I realized you're actually a really great guy."
Keith felt his cheeks warming and he ducked his face further to hide it. "I'm really not. I've got anger and trust issues all over the place and I don't know how to talk to people at all, or how to act around them. I can't figure them out."
There was a slight hesitation. "Um, I think the awkwardness might be something else, actually, but that's not important. Having issues doesn't make you a bad person, Keith. Just means you have a bit harder time connecting, that's all."
"Yeah. I don't...I really, really have a hard time trusting people. I especially don't trust them to stay around." He clenched his fists in his lap. This was harder than he thought it would be. He never normally talked about his fears out loud. Just waves of emotion for Red to read. It was easier. "I usually try not to let myself get attached, because they always leave. Shiro...he's the first one who never did. Not on purpose." It had taken a long, long time for the black paladin to earn the trust of the angry, wary cadet prodigy. Any sane person would given up after the first few rebuffs, but god, Shiro could be stubborn when he wanted to. Once he'd decided he was going to be there for Keith, well...no one put that much effort into something they intended to toss aside when they were done, and that was half of what got him through the red paladin's walls right there.
"We're not going to leave you, Keith. I told you, we're your family now."
He nodded, tugging a bit at his hair while he figured out what to say next. "I know. Thank you. It really, really means a lot." He laughed softly. "Pidge called me her brother. Her favourite brother, no less." That had knocked him for a loop, after everything that happened. He trusted Lance's honesty, had listened to what he'd said, but hearing it from someone else as well? Somehow that made it hit home. They were a family. He had a family now, brothers and sisters and whatever the hell Coran was. Uncle? Father? He didn't remember his own well enough to be sure. And then there was Lance, who was something else entirely. Or could be. Maybe.
Lance snorted, but there was a smile in his voice, and warm affection. "She has good taste." And oh, wow, Keith's cheeks felt like they were going to bruise from the blushing.
"Anyway," He coughed into his hand. "I've been thinking a lot lately. About the stuff Pidge said when she was hurt."
"About the things she wanted to do with her life?"
"Yeah…" Keith kept his gaze down, tugging at the sheet beside him restlessly. The topic was still fresh and painful to think about, how hurt and scared she'd been. "She said one of the things she wanted to do was see what it was like to be in a relationship and fall in love and be loved back. And she thought she was never going to get the chance. She will, thank god, but, well, I've been thinking about it a lot."
Silence hung heavy in the room now. Keith steadily didn't look at Lance, but it seemed as though there was an odd tension that hadn't been there before. Not a bad tension, strangely. Just a sense of waiting and uncertainty.
He took a deep breath. "I'm afraid to trust people, Lance, because they always end up leaving. But...I trust you. Probably more than I've ever trusted anyone besides Shiro. And after what happened to Pidge...it made me realize that if you're afraid to reach for what you want, you might lose the chance to have it at all." His heart was pounding in his chest. He knew he was rambling, stalling. He was scared to make the leap. But he wanted to.
"I guess what I'm trying to say, Lance, is I...I think I'm-"
A piercing siren ripped through the room, making his jaws snap together in surprise so hard his teeth rattled, and his head snapped up in dismay. Lance was also looking up, startled. That was the alarm for an emergency meeting. The blue paladin glanced over at him, expression entirely unreadable to Keith's eyes. "Hold that thought, okay? We can pick it up again after."
(In another time, this conversation does not happen like this, or so soon. For now, they continue to drift slowly together like black holes in orbit around each other, inevitable and inescapable.)
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It was still full dark when Iverson's phone went off, rousing him from a sound sleep to full wakefulness with the ease of the old soldier. He grabbed for the device, holding it to his ear with one hand while groping for the bedside light with the other. "This is Iverson. What's the situation?" At this ungodly hour, it had to be an emergency. They wouldn't wake him so early for anything less.
He nodded along to the voice on the other end for a moment before the words registered and his eye snapped wide. "Luna substation Undarum reports what in lunar orbit over Earth?!"
The message was repeated and Mitch swore colourfully and extensively in several languages. This was exactly what he'd been afraid of. It was too soon, they weren't ready, not even close. But they had to try.
"Contact all Garrison branches and have them scramble every single fighter craft. Soldiers, cadet pilots, retirees, we're going to need everything we can put into space. Full live combat loads. Special condition Kilo India Whiskey Niner Niner. Yes, you heard me! I'll be in the command center in ten minutes to remotely brief the other bases on the situation."
He broke the connection and headed for the closet that held his combat uniform. God, this was going to be a goddamn massacre. So much for Holt's plan to expose the cover-ups and force the Galaxy Garrison to become something that could actually stand up to an alien invasion. The leaked files hadn't had a chance to spread beyond the conspiracy forum section of the net yet. Now the whole thing was superfluous, cover-up and exposure both. Assuming they survived this, the whole fucking world was going to know that they were the furthest thing from alone.
(In another time, there is no one in a position to act on Luna's transmission. The Galaxy Garrison and the American military are in political upheaval from the scandal over the exposed cover-ups, with most of the higher-ups sacked and no one left in charge.)
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Kolivan had just finished sending his warning to the Paladins when the Blade returned at a run, carrying the small box that for nearly as long as the Blades of Marmora existed had rested across from Marmora's stone. It had never been opened before, not once in their ten thousand cycle history, but the records passed down through the generations made certain every leader knew exactly what it could do.
Flipping open the lid exposed a flat black surface, smooth and level except for an indentation in the surface the perfect size and shape to contain one of the stones set into the hilt of the knives given to every initiate.
The records of how it worked were long sealed by Marmora herself, along with how it had been made. It was said she had made it herself, using some secret method, along with the stones that contained her symbol. They were an emergency measure she had created, a last resort, the same weapons that marked their loyalty also being able to serve, in times like this, as a way to give warning to their fellows.
Kolivan pulled out his sword, allowing it to revert to dormant form, and used his claws to pry the stone from its hilt. The stone fit neatly into the indentation when he pressed it into place, and the Galra didn't even have time to wonder what would happen before it did. The sigil lit up a brilliant green and he felt, deep in his bones, a sense of danger and warning.
All across the room, the other Blades present grabbed for their own weapons in surprised response to the same subtle signal, discovering that the stones on their own blades were glowing the same brilliant emerald shade. All across the Empire, their fellows would feel it as well, and know to get out immediately, however they could. Fall back. Preserve their work so far. And continue the fight anew.
The leader of the Blades of Marmora could only hope that the warning had come in time to save the lives of his brothers and sisters.
(In another time, the box is never opened. There is no time. The Blades of Marmora die at their posts before they even know they are in danger.)
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"-scouts to all the likely targets we can think of and hope we find it." Matt was saying, his fingers curled tightly around his sister's.
"And if it's not at any of them?" The Falling Tree's pack leader growled.
"Then we come up with a new plan."
Alejandro couldn't hold still, moving restlessly around the bridge and fidgeting with whatever he could get his hands on. When the alarm sounded, he and Kurogane had been the first ones to arrive to find Allura already in conference with the various pack leaders about what to do next. The shipyard where the Weblum's Breath had been built had been found-too late. It was already deployed, bearing down on some unsuspecting planet, and terror thrilled through him. They were supposed to be preventing this! And yet no matter how hard they tried, things just seemed to keep getting worse. From the damn thing being built early to Pidge nearly dying (and god, he would never forgive himself for that, she was so small now, so much younger than Holt had been when they lost her, and he knew this would affect her forever, nearly dying did that to a person, he should know) to this. All he could do was pray-
"Princess, incoming transmission." Coran's voice cut across the discussion. Alejandro's heart dropped through the floor. Even as Allura requested a momentary hold on the discussion and told the older Altean to play the message, he knew. Knew what the message would say.
"Paladins." Kolivan was speaking rapidly, tones clipped and looking almost afraid. Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket if he was showing fear. "The world-breaker is loose, and accompanied by an armada. System coordinates X-9-Y-L23. Third world. I will send what help I can but my people are compromised and I must recall them. Good luck. May Marmora guide you."
Those coordinates. The ones engraved into his very soul.
No. No no no no no.
The buzzing in his ears drowned out the ensuing discussion among the pack leaders. He felt sick and he couldn't breathe. Please God no. Not Earth. Not again. He couldn't live that again. He felt himself being held tightly by familiar arms and stifled a broken cry in the chest in front of him.
"Sh, sh, 'lejo, it's okay. We won't let it happen again. We're not alone this time. We can do it. Sh, babe. I've got you." Slowly Kurogane's voice filtered through and he latched onto the reassurances desperately. He forced himself to suck in a deep breath, then another. He couldn't fight if he was hyperventilating. Fight first, break down once it was over. One of the first rules of survival. Refocus.
"Commencing wormholes in five minutes." Shiiar'keh was saying.
"Paladins, get to your lions. Prepare for battle."
(In another time, it is not Kolivan who warns them but the Castle's scanners as they pass through a galaxy much closer to the Milky Way. Alejandro-who-was-Lance does not panic, then, not like this, because they do not yet know what it is that lies in orbit over Earth as they head to defend their home.)
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Yellow rumbled soothingly in Hunk's head as they launched, feeling his fear and agitation. This was like nothing they'd ever done before in their year and a few months as Paladins. They were knowingly, willingly heading straight into a fight where they would be massively outnumbered and outgunned, without any semblance of a plan and barely any knowledge of exactly what they'd be facing. And the stakes, for the Humans, at least, were higher than they'd ever been.
The Castle of Lions' wormhole flared to life in front of them and he dove towards it, falling in line at the left end of the formation as he did so. From here he could see Green ahead of him, Blue far to his right behind Red, and Black in the centre.
Aqua light passed over them, then purple, then aqua again, and then they were there.
For over a year he'd thought about what it would be like to see Earth again. The familiar shapes of the continents, the blue seas, the swirls of white clouds.
He'd never once imagined it with a massive fleet of Empire ships standing between him and home.
(In another time, this is when the fear hits.)
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Kovirak sprinted through the maze of hallways that made up the interior of the Weblum's Breath. For all its size the ship's crew was relatively tiny, and made up largely of sentries. Having shed her distinctive Lieutenant's armor in favour of the more concealing set she'd stolen off a rank and file soldier, she passed largely unchallenged as she tried to locate the mechanisms that operated the great weapon.
Alarms blared overhead and she paused, looking up. Combat sirens, not a warning about her presence. Voltron was here.
(In another time, Kovirak is not aboard this ship. She has served her purpose to the leaders of the Empire. She learns of the Weblum's Breath's deployment and destination from the soldiers of Central Command and flees, desperate to save her cub.
She arrives too late, her ship hanging over the broken stones of Earth as she turns her claws on herself in her guilt and despair.)
0000000
"-you'll be up against. These are known hostile aliens. They're what actually happened to the crew of the Kerberos mission." Iverson could only imagine the reactions his words were generating in the fighter spacecraft scattered across the country. The communications were one way. They could see him, but he couldn't see any of them as he delivered blow after blow. "I'm sorry to say you're going to be outclassed, outnumbered, and outgunned, but goddamn it, we-"
"Sir!" A soldier burst into the conference room, chest heaving from running. "We just had another transmission from Luna!"
"Son of a bitch, what now?" Iverson didn't bother muting the mike as he turned to deal with the new crisis. As if there weren't already enough K-vessels in orbit to blow them all to pieces and be home in time for breakfast. Not to mention that huge ship that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A sheaf of paper was thrust into his hands, and he looked down at them.
Photos. With time of the essence, Luna had obviously decided that a picture was worth a thousand words. The first showed a cluster of blue portals, the likes of which he'd only seen once before, a year ago and much smaller. In the second, ships were emerging from the portals. Not K-vessels. These were dark and star-patterned, of a completely different structural design, as were the fighter ships already swarming around them. And in the third, a close up to compensate for their much smaller size, a smaller portal disgorged five colourful vessels in the shape of lions. Black, red, green, yellow, and a familiar blue.
A memory flashed through his mind, a robotic blue lion streaking over the desert before disappearing towards space.
"Are these newcomers on our side?" He demanded. The second K-vessel had tried to go after the blue lion the first time. Did that mean the two were enemies?
The soldier saluted, relief in his eyes. "Luna reports the second group of vessels opening fire on the K-vessels as soon as they arrived!"
Thank fucking god. Maybe, just maybe, they had a chance. Iverson turned back to the mic he'd been using to brief the pilots at the various bases. "Good news, boys and girls. Looks like we've got some friends up there after all."
(In another time, there is no one to rally the pilots of Earth, and no allies ready to be called on. Voltron arrives alone, and they fight alone to protect their home.)
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The morning-star lights of the ships may have gone unnoticed at first from the ground, but the laser flashes and rapid movements of combat did not. Across the side of the world under the space-borne battle more and more pairs of eyes turned skyward, along with telescopes and satellite dishes, toward where the lights danced and flashed.
It took only minutes before the first images of the spacecraft hit the news, an armada of purple against a brave handful of star-flecked navy and a single small white with their entourages of fighters, and, standing out brightly in the middle of it all, five colorful robotic lions leading the charge.
(In another time, this plays out the same.)
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Rosa McClain-Martinez lit the little candle and stepped back slightly, bowing her head as she murmured soft prayers under her breath. In front of her, the flame reflected off the glass of the photo frame, glaring out part of Lance's orange-and-white cadet uniform but doing nothing to conceal the brightness of his proud, excited smile. Finishing her prayer, she pressed her fingers to her lips, then touched her fingertips to the photo.
He'd been so happy to have made it into the Garrison, and their whole family had been so proud of his big hopes and how hard he worked to achieve them. His piloting career was a labour of love from a boy with so much love to give, and they'd done their best to support and encourage him. And then the training accident happened, and just like that he was gone along with all his dreams. A year and a few months had done nothing to reduce the pain of the loss, to close the hole in their family where her second son should have been.
A prayer for his spirit to find happiness among the stars he had loved so much had become part of her daily ritual, one of the only things that helped her get through the day with the grief she still carried in her heart.
A commotion from outside distracted her. Edmundo was yelling for her. Something about bright lights in the sky? He and Fernan and Mariposa should have been on the bus to school by now. Blowing out the candle, she hurried to the door to see what was going on.
(In another time, it is four more months before Rosa receives a phone call from her second eldest daughter, Zelia, living in New York with her girlfriend. Zelia is in tears like Rosa hasn't heard from her child since Lance's funeral, and her voice is thick with anger.
"The Garrison lied to us, Mami. I saw it on the news. There was no training accident."
By the time the end comes Rosa McClain-Martinez knows the full story, and her voice is one of the loudest in Colleen Holt's call for action against the liars who let families ache and grieve for children who were not killed after all. When the world burns her last thought is for her lost son, fighting high over her head, and a prayer that he will live long and happily among the stars he always loved.)
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With the battle raging so close by, it was child's play for Human technology to pick up the ship-to-ship transmissions overhead, and alien voices followed the images of the ships onto the news. Most were impossible to understand, dozens of different languages in a thousand different voices. Then-
"Pidge! Watch your six!"
"Son of a vrekking motherfuck-Fucking hell. Thanks, Keith."
English. Human English among alien babble. The people latched onto it, trying to identify the voices that were calling orders to each other and to their allies in the midst of the conflict above.
They identified Takashi Shirogane first, the supposedly two-years-dead prodigy pilot of the ill-fated Kerberos mission. It was easy enough, he had often been the spokesperson for news pieces about the project, and many remembered his voice. It had an air of command now, though, that no one remembered it having before. The voice Matthew Holt took only slightly longer, the mission's young xenobiologist/medic dictating strategy as though he'd been born to it.
(The absence of the voice of Commander Samuel Holt did not go unnoticed.)
The others were harder, but the names quickly gave three of them away. Pidge Gunderson. Lance McClain-Martinez. Hunk Garrett. The names of the three students claimed to have been killed in a training accident a year after Kerberos. Bodies never recovered. Not dead after all, and fighting a battle high over the Earth.
The sixth voice took the longest, but as word spread he was identified too, by a cadet home on leave. Keith Kogane. The genius flyer that Shirogane had mentored, kicked out of the Garrison for discipline issues after the older man's death. Back in the air in an alien craft, and working alongside his mentor once more.
Their faces plastered the news, overlaid with a live feed of their voices as they fought to defend their home.
(In another time, this, too, plays out much the same way. But after the exposure of the Garrison's cover-ups and Colleen Holt's theories, the identification is faster and the surprise is much less. After all, there are only seven Humans out there. The choices are limited for who the five voices above them could be.)
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The shrill electronic tones of Fetuilelagi Garrett's phone roused her, the foreign pop song blaring loudly in the room. As she often did, she reminded herself to get Hunk's help undoing his little sister's mischief next time he was home on leave before she remembered once more that he never would be. Not anymore.
The familiar ache settled in her heart once more as she sat up and grabbed the phone, slipping out of the room so as not to wake La'ei. A glance at the screen showed that it was her brother, Henare, who worked the night shift as a security guard. But why would he be calling her at this hour when he should be at work? She accepted the call, cutting off the song that she didn't have the heart to change, and pressed the device to her ear. "This is Fetuilelagi."
"Fetu, I'm sorry for waking you but it's important." Henare sounded shaken. That was strange. He was usually so relaxed. "Go turn on the news, right away."
"What channel?" Not so strange, then. Maybe there was a tsunami warning she needed to know about. Their house was well back from the shore, but you never knew. She headed down the stairs to the darkened living room.
"Any of them. One that plays American news would be better, though."
Humming an acknowledgement, Fetu turned on the TV and flipped it from the channel La'ei had been watching her soaps on earlier to the main news channel. A second later the remote clattered to the ground as she covered her mouth in shock. Her dead son's face stared back at her, along with those of the other two cadets who'd been killed in the same accident and three others she didn't recognize at all. There was video footage of-were those spaceships? And over it all, voices, the crackle of static suggesting that this was a live feed.
"Thanks for the save, Lance."
"No problem, buddy."
Her son. Alive.
(In another time, it is La'ei who first sees the news footage of the scandals rocking the space branch of the American military, who breaks down in tears over their lies. She tells Fetuilelagi, who tells Henare, who tells others, and soon all of Samoa knows what has happened to one of the sons of the islands. An outraged Samoa becomes one of the first nations to try to create its own space military branch to defend their planet if the purple ships return.
Their first spacecraft has not yet been built when they do.
Fetuilelagi and La'ei Garrett die when the world shatters, thanking the ancestors that at least one of their children will survive this.)
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"-when you get up there, your commanding officer will be the pilot of the Black Lion, Takashi Shirogane. Good luck and Godspeed, men."
The briefing broadcast cut off and thousands of pilots were left to their own thoughts as the first groups of craft were signalled to taxi out to the runways. As they did so they could see the sky through their clear canopies, the lights that they now knew to be alien spaceships locked in battle high overhead bright in the dawn light. A brilliant streak blazed across the sky, some massive beam weapon the likes of which none of them had ever seen.
The lead pilots tightened their hands on their control columns. Earth was their home and dammit, they would defend it. Massive engines revved, and the first wings of the meager spaceforce shot down the runways.
(In another time, some pilots do try to get to their craft and launch to join the fight. But the Garrison branches have been locked down over the scandals, until new administration can be chosen, and security is tight. Only a handful make it into the air.
All are shot down by Empire fighters before they ever leave the atmosphere.)
0000000
The roar of massive jet engines overhead jolted Colleen and Ryou from a sound sleep, the latter toppling right off the couch and onto the floor with a yelp and rubbing his head where it glanced off a side table.
Struggling to her feet, Colleen scrambled to the window and looked out, inhaling sharply as she processed what she was seeing. "Holy shit. Ryou...I hate to say you were right, but...I think you were right." There was some emotion in her voice that he couldn't quite identify. Fear? It sounded so out of place from such an indomitable woman, and sent alarm spiralling into the pit of his stomach. Ryou stumbled to his feet and joined her at the window. A dozen fresh spacecraft launch trails streaked through the sky, painted pink and orange by the sunlight just peering over the horizon. Even as he watched, a second formation blasted past with a deafening roar, repainting the cloud trails as they headed for orbit. The trails did little to hide the dancing lights high overhead, the flashes and streaks of distant but massive weapons. A battle already in progress, far above the atmosphere.
"...Well...shit. If there was ever a time to wish I wasn't, this is it." He ran a hand through his messy bed head, then startled as Colleen spun away from her spot beside him at the window and flipped open the laptop on the desk. A few keystrokes brought up a stream of a news channel, and his eyes widened at the sight of a multicoloured machine that until now he'd only seen in ten-thousand-year-old cave drawings, streaking across the stars toward huge purple warships. Voices overlaid the feed, ones that he knew from security footage and official broadcasts and ones that he'd heard in person years earlier.
"...They're up there." Colleen breathed, head turning rapidly between the images and the photos on the board. "Our families are up there! Come on, we have to get to the Garrison. They're the only ones with broadcasting tech that'll let us reach them." Slapping the laptop closed again, she grabbed it, her phone, and her car keys with shaking hands before heading for the door. After a moment, Ryou followed. Slipping into the driver's seat, she glanced over at him as he fumbled with his phone. "What are you doing?"
He pressed the device to his ear, listening to it ring. "Calling my parents. They deserve to know about Takashi from me, not the news. Get driving."
She nodded, shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the driveway with a squeal of tires as more fighting-ready spacecraft streaked over the desert. Turning sharply, Colleen pushed the pedal to the floor and sped across the desert in the direction they had come from. Beside her, Ryou's gaze remained fixed on the sky as he silently hoped this time he would have the chance to talk to his cousin once more.
(In another time, Ryou Shirogane and Colleen Holt do not make it to the Arizona Garrison before the Weblum's Breath fires. They burn knowing Takashi and Katie will have each other if no one else, and Colleen's last desperate hope as she dies is that she is the only one of her family that her daughter loses forever.)
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The news spread like wildfire around the world, by phone and internet and international television broadcasts. Those who were under the battle raging overhead kept their eyes to the skies. Those who were not followed the millions of live streams from cameras and telescopes. A planet of billions held its breath, praying for their defenders to succeed against seemingly insurmountable odds.
(In another time, they lose.)