Leones voladores

by Kaizen Kitty

Keith loses everyone dear to him, and then... he meets Lance.

2. Libre cayendo

Leones voladores

chapter 2

Libre cayendo

Myrrhine (fluor-spar = fluorite, and agate) vessels come to us from the East. The substance is thought to be a liquid which is solidified underground by heat, a dry, potentially fiery exhalation. Their value lies in their varied colors: the veins, as they revolve, repeatedly vary from purple to white or a mixture of the two, the purple becoming fiery or the milk-white becoming red as though the new color were passing through the vein. Some people particularly appreciate the edges of a piece, where colors may be reflected such as we observe in the inner part of a rainbow.
~ Pliny, Natural History, Book 37.

. . .

"And then we broke into the High Gravity training room, and Keith held watch while I rode inside the Human Centrifuge. Keith refused to let me go faster than 6 g, and didn't ride in the Centrifuge himself cos he said he couldn't trust me to keep the acceleration below 3 g. The man's such a pussy. And then we broke in the Robotics Lab, and held a Robot Battle! I won, of course, my robot completely shoved Keith's robot out of the ring. And then..."

Hunk held up a hand. "I'm going to interrupt your masturbatory monologue about Keith."

Lance opened and closed his mouth like a fish. At least he finally shut up.

"Hand me the Verowire pen."

His friend complied. Hunk bent over the circuit board set up on their table, and with a gentle move of his hand, traced the Verowire over the paths he'd previously sketched with a mechanical pencil. He stuck his tongue out in concentration.

"Sooner or later one of you is going to get kicked out of the Garrison for all this rule breaking."

Lance leaned back, balancing his chair on its hind legs. "Naw, not gonna happen. Besides, it's not like I have a scholarship on the line."

"But Keith does."

Lance talked over Hunk. "I'll just sit out my suspension and repeat the semester if things get bad."

Hunk put the pen down and turned in his seat to look at Lance, whose eyes were wide shut in bliss. "You're doing this on purpose?" Hunk said, incredulous. Sure his friend could be a little sneaky sometimes, but Hunk hadn't known him to be that devious. "Are you trying to get Keith kicked out? That's the plan, right? He can't come back if he loses his scholarship. He gets booted from the Garrison and you get assigned Fighter Class Pilot, win-win."

"No!" Lance sat up straight, rocking the chair forward with a loud knock. "Of course not!" he exclaimed vehemently, earning several stares from nearby tables. "I mean I hate the dick," he sighed, twiddling his thumbs, "but that'd be a dick move." He shrugged, the cheeky smile returning. "Besides, I kind of love this rivalry we have at the Garrison." He rubbed his hands together like a comic book villain. "Us both competing, neck and neck, keeps me in shape!"

Hunk raised both eyebrows. "What rivalry? You guys have like one class together, that's General Engineering, and neither of you are very good at it."

A fond smile appeared on Lance's face. "You wouldn't understand. It's a thing between me and Keith, it's real."

"All I ever see you two compete on is who can break more rules."

Lance jammed his palms together. "Hell yeah!"

Hunk rolled his eyes and turned back to their joint project... joint project he was working on alone while Lance merrily chatted his head off about this thing and that, mostly Keith. Hunk grabbed the Verowire pen and added a few more strokes around the edges. There, done. "Hand me the soldering iron."

"The big one or the small one?"

Hunk adjusted the bandana on his head. "What big one? Lance, we only have one soldering iron." He looked to his right, and sure enough, Lance was toying with their equipment.

Hunk groaned. "You know this is a joint project, right? That means you've got to do at least part of the work."

Lance pouted. "I am working!" he said, talking with his hands. "I drew the schematic."

Hunk sighed. He'd have to do the entire project by himself, as usual.

. . .

Lance knelt down and ruffled the large German Shepherd's neck with both hands. The dog leaned into the touch, wagged its tail, jumped forward and set its paws on Lance's knees. Its bark was so loud... Keith stood in a corner of the room, gripping his right elbow behind his back.

"This is a stupid idea," he said.

Lance looked up at him with round eyes and a childlike pout. "Why?"

"Do you have to ask that?"

Lance nodded.

Keith groaned. "Let me get this straight, at tomorrow's inspection, when the higher ups from NASA come to visit our academy, you want to release the dogs from the kennels?"

A wicked grin broke Lance's face. "Yes!" he shouted in glee. The dog on his lap responded with several barks of its own.

"And this..." Keith said in a dull tone, "is supposed to be... funny?"

His friend's shoulders drooped. The grin evaporated and blue eyes went wide again, lips puckered and brows tented pitifully, giving him the impression of a kicked puppy. "Well uh... when you put it like that..."

Keith shook his head decisively. He was not letting Lance drag him into one of his crazy schemes again. "I'm out. I don't want any part of this. None of it."

"Killjoy." Lance narrowed his eyes.

Keith huffed, arms crossing over his chest. "I'd rather be a killjoy than a retard."

"Hey!" Lance cried out. The dog made a surprised whine as Lance jumped to his feet. "I take offense to that."

A smirk came over Keith's lips. For all his jokes and easy-going persona, Lance was too easy to goad into anger. Which was what made it so much fun!

"Good," he said confidently, drawing out the word. "You should take offense. It was intentionally offensive."

As Keith turned to walk off, back to the main Garrison building, he caught a snippet of the heated glare Lance sent his way.

"I'm still going to do it! I'm pulling the prank."

"I don't care," Keith threw over his shoulder.

. . .

It was chaos.

It was chaos and Lance loved it. Women were running round screeching, trying to push away the dogs that kept biting at and tearing their skirts. An elderly man chased after a Vizsla that had run off with his wig in its slobbery jaw! The teachers shouted orders at the top of their lungs, trying to get the dogs to obey, but there were too many of them, running in all directions, and together they formed a large joyous pack of tame wolves, barking and wagging their tails.

Lance laughed into his hand from his spot on the emergency stairs. He had to admit, today's prank was a big success! He wished Keith could be here, so he'd have a partner in crime to share the laughs with. The way those people from NASA kept running about, tumbling over the dogs, screaming, just had him in tears. It was so good! Priceless.

"Call those dogs off, right now."

Think of the Devil! Lance turned his head, and there, a few stairs higher, stood Keith.

"You have to admit, it's pretty funny," Lance said with a smug grin.

"You moron!" Keith hissed, coming down the stairs till he stood on the stair Lance sat on, towering over him, hands on his hips, torso bent so their faces were but a foot apart. "The people visiting us today help finance this institution. Without their support, the Garrison is as good as dead."

Lance shrugged, still smirking at Keith's face. "They must have some sense of humor. Besides, what sort of space explorers get frightened by a bunch of dogs? Their faces man! Did you see their faces?" he slapped his stomach and fell back on the stairs, laughing.

Keith held out his hand, palm spread open wide. "Give me the key."

As his laughter fizzled out, Lance looked at Keith's hand. It was a small hand, with even smaller fingers, ending in rather pointy fingertips. Though the nails were diligently cut in a square shape, below the fingertip.

"Now!" Keith hissed, pushing his small hand into Lance's face. "We are putting those dogs back where they belong." He shook his hand in front of Lance's chin.

Lance grunted, he dug into his jeans and threw the jingling keys into Keith's waiting hand.

"Get up." Keith kicked him in the side.

"Hey!"

"I said get up already! You caused this mess, so you're helping me fix it."

With a strained sigh, Lance clambered up to his feet. They spent the next hour sneaking around the Garrison, Keith insulting him at every turn, Lance reluctantly whistling the dogs over, one by one, leading them back to the kennels. Slowly on the chaos inside the building died down, and a confused awkward silence took over.

Lance recalled the way that woman from NASA with streaks of grey in her hair had glowered at Mr. Harris, who cowered pitifully under her death glare, and showered her with compliments and assurances. The Galaxy Garrison wasn't normally like this, don't you worry Madame Very Important Person, we know how to spend your money. Lance had laughed so hard at Harris' tone! It was so different from the domineering bawl the man normally used in the classroom. Lance had Mr. Harris for his Space Med class. He blamed the man for the fact he hadn't learned anything useful since this school year started.

Somehow Keith and him had succeeded in returning all dogs to their pens without getting caught. But their victory over the Garrison was short lived. Before long someone had called Commander Iverson, and a bunch of staff arrived on scene; all Third Year Cadets were called to the meeting hall, as per immediately.

Keith and Lance shared a look. Neither of them smiled. When they got to the hall they were ordered to stand in one line. Most cadets weren't wearing their uniforms, but some were. Commander Iverson marched up and down the line, glaring each cadet in the face. Lance gulped, stood up straighter and stiffened his shoulders as the Commander passed him.

"We know it was one of you Third Years," the Commander bellowed, his flight cap swaying as he walked. "All other years had class when the incident happened, and we checked the list of absentees." Iverson glared. "It was down to zero!"

A shiver ran up Lance's spine.

"Whoever did it is in this year. You would save us all a lot of trouble if you came clean right now. I'm waiting," the Commander tapped his boot on the hollow metal floor, sending echoes down the hall.

Lance glanced to his right. Keith stood way down the line, with a straight face that didn't show any emotion. Many students looked like this... others just seemed confused. Standing right beside Lance, to his left, Hunk pulled a bored face. Lance envied them all. He was in a state of panic, cold sweat running down his neck under his hoodie. He hoped his face and the rest of his body didn't give him away.

"Well?" Iverson demanded.

It was silent down the line. The girl standing to Lance's right shifted from foot to foot. And then it happened.

"Who let the dogs out?" Commander Iverson barked at them, dead serious.

Lance blinked. This, this was too much. This was comedy gold! More than he could have hoped for when he came up with the prank. Iverson spitting those words out like... like he'd never heard the Baha Men song. Lance fought the smile that threatened to take over his face.

"I repeat, who let the dogs out?" Iverson's beady eye scoured the line of space cadets.

Just when Lance thought this couldn't get any lulzier, an even-toned voice replied from somewhere to his right.

"Woof. Woof, woof woof."

Lance recognized that voice. Keith!

Heads turned and this time Lance couldn't help the smile slipping to his lips. Many other cadets wore similar smirks. Hunk and the girl standing next to Lance just looked confused. Keith's face was a stoic mask of complete indifference. Lance snorted, how could Keith be so... cool? How'd he do it?

Iverson whipped his head around. Obscured from the Commander's one-eyed sight, Lance laughed into his hand, completely losing it. Hunk shared a look with him, and also broke out into a smile.

"Think this funny, Kogane?" stopping right in front of Keith, Commander Iverson glowered down at him.

A few more chuckles left Lance's lips before the laughter died in his throat. Just as the people around him were growing rowdier, laughs erupting all around, Lance sobered. Fuck, he'd forgotten: Keith still had the key! If Iverson found it on him, then... then...! Lance didn't want to think of what would happen.

Keith kept his cool though, staring back at Commander Iverson with an effortless pokerface. He was frighteningly good at this.

"I did it, Sir. I let the doggies out to play," Keith said. Coolly he dug into his jacket, pulled out the key to the kennels, and held it up for Iverson to see.

Lance's head exploded. No! No no no no no! He would not let this happen. Without thinking he stepped forward, out of the line and spoke loud enough so everyone heard him over the chatter and general hum of laughs in the hall.

"He's lying! He's trying to steal the spotlight. I did it."

The laughter and chit chat turned into a hushed sound of surprise as heads turned to look at him, then everyone started talking animatedly again. Commander Iverson turned his stern gaze on him. Lance's shoulders drooped. He was in for it now, big time. But at least Keith wouldn't suffer for what he'd done. Lance didn't know how he'd live with himself if he didn't own up to this.

"What, is this a Captain My Captain moment?" a mellow voice said from very close by, to his left.

Lance blinked, turning around... he saw Hunk take a bold step forward, out of the line. What was he doing? Lance's mouth fell open in shock.

Hunk's smile grew all the more excited. "You know, like V for Vendetta, do we all get to wear masks?"

Lance gaped at him. Was he... was he turning this into a joke?

Hunk let his eyes flutter closed, puffed up his chest, and placed his right fist over his heart, before loudly proclaiming: "I am Vee."

No. Fuck, no. Why was Hunk doing this? Couldn't people take him seriously for once? He needed to set the record straight, the Garrison couldn't go on thinking Keith was behind this. It... it wasn't fair to Keith!

"Silence!" Iverson roared and everyone fell still, everyone but Lance.

"But Sir! It was me," Lance said, talking over his fear. "I did it. I distracted the personnel, snatched a key to the kennels, snuck in this morning and set the dogs free."

Commander Iverson narrowed his one good eye. "You?"

Like a looming cyclops, the Commander approached... Lance gulped. Iverson stopped right in front of him and sized him up.

"What nonsense. You're not even capable of passing an Obstacle Course test. Besides, Kogane has the keys to the doghouse."

"That's because I gave them to Keith!"

Iverson sighed. "Give up Son, it's admirable that you're trying to take the fall for your friend, but you aren't convincing anyone."

Lance's mouth fell open... and stayed open as the Commander walked away.

"Kogane," Iverson boomed, "follow me."

Lance watched Keith leave after the Commander, not once turning around to look over his shoulder, chin high, chest puffed, back straight as a plank. Hunk's hand on his arm shook him out of it, and Lance registered the soft chatter erupting among the assembled cadets. The staff ushered everyone back to their rooms, even though it was far from bedtime.

Hours later, having taken a long, scalding hot shower and towel dried his hair, Lance was alone in his room. Hunk had gone off to dinner. Lance didn't feel hungry... couldn't get a bite down his throat, would be more accurate. He felt guilty. Very, very guilty. The sort of feeling when you just killed a man but they randomly sent someone else on death row instead. Okay, bad metaphor. But killers felt guilty too, right? On occasion. Lance sat down heavily on his bed and kicked off his flip-flops. He grabbed his phone as he spread out on his stomach, face buried in the pillow.

Loverboy Lance: hey. u ok?

Ninja Keitaro: meh

Loverboy Lance: :(

Loverboy Lance: thank you

Ninja Keitaro: no problemo

Loverboy Lance: why'd you do it? O_O

Ninja Keitaro: honestly? im sick of this place.

Loverboy Lance: :( thats not a good reason

Ninja Keitaro: its the best reason I can think of. that and im tired of seeing ur ugly mug every day

Loverboy Lance: hey!

Ninja Keitaro: XD

He imagined what Keith's face looked like: solemn, on the other end of the line as he typed in the letters 'X' and 'D'. He'd never actually seen Keith's face crack open like that: eyes squeezed in an X, mouth wide open in a D. It wasn't an accurate rendition of how Keith looked. Maybe it was an accurate depiction of how Keith felt beneath that cool veneer of couldn't-care-less? He had seen Keith angry to the point of crying... he knew Keith felt things intensely... He just hadn't seen happy tears stream down Keith's face, or a smile as wide that it warranted an XD emoji.

Loverboy Lance: 'XD' emojis? really? ur such a nerd.

He should've seen the response coming.

Ninja Keitaro: XD

He had to bring the conversation back on topic. Keith was dodging, and secretly Lance welcomed it, but they couldn't keep ignoring this elephant forever. It was just too big...

Loverboy Lance: So what happens now?

Ninja Keitaro: wot do u mean?

The message came along with a video clip attachment of a Bart Baker parody. More dodging. Lance rolled his eyes.

Loverboy Lance: will I still see u tomorrow

Ninja Keitaro: dont go soft on me

Loverboy Lance: im serious Keith!

Ninja Keitaro: y so serious?

Lance scowled. Seriously? That message came attached with a gif of The Joker. But as soon as anger bubbled up in his chest, ready for sweet release, it cooled down. Lance puckered his lips. It wasn't that simple. Keith dodging the topic so persistently, ...meant things were really bad. Now he felt guilty all over again. There was one way he could fix this, even though it required quite the sacrifice on his part. Still, he could fix this, no sweat. He could turn things around and Keith wouldn't be in trouble, not on his account, no.

Loverboy Lance: im speaking with Ivysaur tomorrow and clearing this mess up

Ninja Keitaro: u will do no such thing

Loverboy Lance: watch me.

Ninja Keitaro: He won't listen to you anyway.

Loverboy Lance: ill make him listen!

Ninja Keitaro: Lance I'm not coming back.

Lance blinked at the screen and read the message once over. He scrolled up through the message log, then scrolled back down. It was silent on Keith's end. Anxiously Lance typed out a response.

Loverboy Lance: wot u mean?

A new anxiety gripped his stomach as he waited for Keith to reply. He could see Keith was typing something, but...what?

Ninja Keitaro: I've burned all my bridges at the GG. I'm sick and tired of being a space cadet. I'm not going back, even if they take me back. Don't even try to stop me.

Loverboy Lance: oh. :(

Cryptic but clear. Keith obviously didn't want Lance white knighting him... There had to be things Keith wasn't telling him, other things he'd done. Lance wanted to know, he wanted so badly to know all the things Keith wasn't telling him, all the rules he'd broken at the Garrison, all the disagreements he'd had with the staff. He wanted to see Keith's personal file! He wanted to know.

Lance shook his head, this wasn't his battle to fight. If Keith wanted to keep him out of his life, he could do it forever and Lance wouldn't get the chance to object. However much it pained him, physically pained him not to know, it wasn't his call. Only Keith could decide whom he let in, how much he was willing to tell, willing to show. Lance buried his nose in the pillow with a deep suffering sigh. All he could do was appreciate the trust he'd been given, the things Keith had told him... and the massive friendship-making favor he'd just done him... completely unrequested, done without expecting anything in return.

Because what could he give him? What could he really give Keith back for this? Nothing, Lance realized with a shock, nothing but his never ending gratitude.

Loverboy Lance: Thank you for what you did for me. I know I don't deserve it but I do want to be a space explorer. One day I want to fly a ship out to space, and be among the stars. And I know I don't deserve it and far better people, like you, could do it, should do it so much better, but... If you hadn't taken the blame for my stupid prank, that'd been it. They would have figured out it was me, and I'd lose my one and only shot at going into space. My dream would just be a dream. So... thank you.

Keith was typing ...! Lance bit his nails. Was that too forward? Had he offended Keith?

Ninja Keitaro: it wasnt a stupid prank. it was funny

Loverboy Lance: (*´∀`*)

Ninja Keitaro: ;-) Anytime man.

Now Lance was just melting. How did Keith have that effect on him? Why was the man so cool!

Dots appeared on the screen again. Lance held his breath, face heating up under the covers.

Ninja Keitaro: when I leave the G,

When Keith left the Garrison what? When Keith left what? Jitters of anxiety crawled up his arms.

Ninja Keitaro: can we stay in touch?

Lance had never typed a message faster in his life.

Loverboy Lance: YES!

Ninja Keitaro: XD.

Ninja Keitaro: good night Lance.

Loverboy Lance: night Keith.

. . .

Three nights later, Keith was staring at his phone. He hadn't slept a wink. It was morning, the first beams of gray light filtered in through the blinds. Keith sat on his cold bed, in his cold room, his roommate snoring softly, his stuff packed: one tent, one sleeping bag, one spare set of clothes, water, a healthy supply of energy bars wrapped in plastic.

He tapped on a contact, enlarging the image of a goofy smiling space cadet, one with cobalt blue eyes, short brown hair and tanned skin... Lance... aka the 'Space Cowboy'. Keith rolled his eyes at the silly nickname. Lance had input his number into the phone, and Keith didn't know how to change it without deleting the contact. He smiled. It fit, in a way... Lance's family had a farm back in Cuba, he'd told Keith. The guy had grown up milking cows and stealing eggs. At least it wasn't as ridiculous as the nickname Shiro had given Keith when he first got the phone.

Keith grimaced. Even if he somehow found a way to change that, he doubted he ever would. Oddly this was one of very few things he still had left of Shiro, and he would hold onto it, as he held onto the dagger given him by Dad.

Mind made up, Keith messaged the asshole Space Cowboy.

Hotshot: so.

A reply came seconds later. Oh, he was awake? Keith hadn't expected anything so soon. He wasn't ready. What if it was one of those personal questions? He'd had to dodge so many of those recently. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, mind ready with a witty comeback, and read the message.

Space Cowboy: so.

A laugh bubbled up in Keith's throat, making his roommate stir. How did ...? How did Lance manage to do that? Lift his spirits when he felt so low. How did the asshole always know just what to say? Keith felt a fluttering in his stomach which he tried very hard to ignore, because Lance was just toying with him, only playing with his feelings and leading him on.

Hotshot: I'm leaving today.

Space Cowboy: want me to drop you off at the bus station?

Space Cowboy: airport?

That's right... he hadn't told Lance where he was going. It wasn't something he was trying to hide, he just hadn't said a thing about it because... because he simply didn't know.

Hotshot: nah im good

He needed more time to figure this out, time on his own, without Lance there to poke at his already weak and crumbling resolve. He wanted to find Shiro, bring him back, to save him from whatever trouble he was in. It was obvious he couldn't do this at the Galaxy Garrison that tried to erase every single trace of Takashi Shirogane. But where? Where else could he do it, and how? How was he even going to find Shiro... all on his own, with no equipment, no data, no radar... He was a fool, a reckless bull-headed fool.

Space Cowboy: As thou wishest, Sir.

Keith blinked. His anxiety washed off as giggles tore from his throat. The roommate groaned and rolled over to his other side, away from Keith.

Hotshot: XD

Space Cowboy: u gotta quit using that emoji. how bout: :|

Space Cowboy: that better reflects the faces you pull

If only Lance could see his face right now... On a second thought, it was better he didn't.

Hotshot: BYE LANCE

Keith hid his phone in his pants. It buzzed. He told himself not to look... don't look gaddang it! ...he looked.

Space Cowboy: not forever right? O_O

Keith knew he was blushing and imagining all sorts of scenes where Lance wanted him as much as he did. Those thoughts went straight to his dick. He cringed, looking off into the distance, not really seeing anything. This was so frustrating. He'd met another queer guy at the Garrison, a miracle in and of itself, and it helped that the dude was hot as hell and they were close in age, but the guy was such a tease!

Hotshot: ب_ ب ill call u l8 once get settled in

Space Cowboy: ok! ;-) have fun!

Fun, ri-ight. Keith thought sarcastically at the wall. He paused over another contact on his phone: 'Bae'... should he tell Todd he was leaving? They hadn't spoken in months. Keith missed him and wanted to see him, but... but did Todd feel the same way? Would messaging him now only sound needy and desperate? The last thing he wanted to be!

Keith shook his head, no, he couldn't message Todd. He couldn't bring himself to delete the contact either. His thumb grazed over the photo... over Todd's sandy hair. Was this what they called 'love'? Then why... why did it hurt so much?

. . .

"Never thought I'd have you crawling over my roof installing my WiFi."

Sunlight pelted down on Lance's bare back. He was sweaty all over. "Shut up."

A hoarse laugh dissolved into the dry air. Lance wiped at his forehead, he still couldn't believe Keith had lived days here... in the middle of nowhere, and built a shack all on his own.

"Like that's the first thing you think of," Keith's mocking voice called from down below.

Lance grunted. Balancing on his knees, he screwed the last bolt into place. He breathed a sigh of relief when the antenna didn't fall apart. Careful not to step on one of the two sun panels, and not to get his foot snagged in the many power cables, Lance climbed down the shack.

"There!" he shouted in joy. "Now you're connected!" He caught the last bit of Keith rolling his eyes.

"Fantastic. My life is now complete."

"Exactly! Now you don't have to hang around random roadside diners and freeload off their WiFi just to call me," Lance nudged Keith with his elbow, grinning. "Home is where the WiFi connects automatically."

He had received a short text from Keith this morning, with an address, telling to meet him there. They met by a depressing diner situated alongside the main road that passed through the closest town to the Galaxy Garrison. Keith had hopped on the bike and given him directions. Lance's eyebrows had traveled farther and farther into his hairline as they left the main road behind them and went down some nondescript dirt track. Nothing had prepared Lance for the shack when he finally laid eyes on it. Keith smacked him hard in the stomach when Lance asked him if he was homeless now.

Still, for a shack, it was a highly advanced shack, as Lance came to later realize when he started mounting a rusty old satellite dish on top of the pleated metal roof. Two sun panels covered most of the surface, connected by a net of power cables that made navigating the roof rather difficult. But now his task was finally complete, and a tiny LED glimmered on the rigged WiFi router inside the dark window-less shack. Lance basked in the glory of a job well done.

Keith gave him an unamused look. "I can live without the internet, you know? You should try it sometime, going unplugged." Keith flicked him in the forehead.

"No way! My life is online."

The internet was how he kept in touch with his friends back home, with his brothers, his sister... even Mom had a Facebook now! WiFi had been a blessing to him ever since enrolling at the Garrison, like a God sent gift. He remembered the nights when Hunk missed his family so much he couldn't sleep, and they stayed up all night talking. Luckily Lance never had that: from day one at the Garrison, there hadn't been a moment he'd felt homesick. Sure he'd have to wait an entire semester to see them all again, but he couldn't really miss any of them because they were right there, just under his fingertips. Sometimes he messaged Marco twice a day. Veronica regularly sent him photos of their little cousins Mateo and Jacin. His family knew all about his upcoming tests... and they also knew when he flunked one... he told them. If he didn't have that, then... he would be truly alone.

Lance rubbed at his forehead: there hadn't been any force behind Keith's flick, but he imagined feeling some lingering pain. His drenched shoulders were baking under the ruthless sun. His celeste blue guayabera shirt looked so welcoming as it hung there on a makeshift clothesline that ran from the roof of the shack to a nearby rock. But with how badly he was sweating... Lance scowled. He'd taken his shirt off earlier to keep it clean: pit stains were notoriously hard to wash out, and this was his favorite weekend guayabera. Keith had called him out here without telling him why or what to expect, and Lance had come running, fool that he was, in his best Sunday clothes.

Lance sighed, he raised an arm and took a whiff of his armpit. Yuck. "Tell me this place has a shower."

Keith snorted. "If your life's online, you don't have a life."

Lance glared at him. Without ceremony Keith picked some towel from what had to be a laundry hamper, and tossed it at Lance's head. The musty towel landed over his face. Lance frowned into the towel and blew it away from his mouth...the thing smelled faintly of Keith, and not in a good way. Reluctantly he wiped the sweat off his back with it.

"Psah. Says the hermit who lives alone in a fucking desert, and used to be a lifeless nerd at the Garrison who spent all his nights studying."

Keith winked and a massive self satisfied grin slid onto his face. "Not all my nights." He waggled his brows suggestively.

"I have way more of a life than you!"

Keith started snickering.

Lance held up a hand. "Before you met me, you didn't even know how to do a basic enchufla. I taught you how to have fun!"

"Yeah right!" Keith broke into a fit of giggles, covering his eyes with his hand.

Lance felt his own eyes twitch. A growl rumbled from deep inside his throat, he was going to kill the dick.

Luckily Keith's fit of laughs cooled down before Lance could do anything he might end up regretting. "There's something I want to show you," Keith said, twirling his finger around a longish strand of hair by his ear.

Lance raised an eyebrow, hand with the towel pausing mid wipe. "What is it?"

After a moment of silence Keith finally spoke. "I don't know."

Lance growled again; he couldn't help himself. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I was hoping you could help make sense of it. There's something in this desert. It's ...really strange, unlike anything I've ever seen."

Lance's chest deflated. He stared at Keith, and the other boy stared back at him. Both had thoughtful looks on their faces.

"Okay, show me." Lance said, now intrigued. If this thing was strange enough it had Keith floored, he couldn't go by without checking it out for himself. His explorer senses tingled, mind alert and curious. He needed to know.

"It's a few miles away from here. I hoped we could go on your bike?"

Why did Keith's eyebrows tent up so much when he said that? Why was Keith nervously scratching his own arm? Why had his voice pitched up at the end, as if in question? Of course they could go on his bike, that's what it was there for! Duh.

"Sure, no problem, let me put on my shirt." He tossed the towel back in the bag that served as a laundry hamper, and gaily skipped to the clothesline. Ah, his beautiful, ciel blue guayabera. Eyes closed in ecstasy, he put it on, instantly feeling the cool soft breeze from the air trapped between him and the shirt.

"We better take a flashlight," Keith grunted, turning back inside his shack and digging through some trash bags.

Huh? A flashlight? What could they possibly need a flashlight for? Lance blinked around at the endless stretch of red earth baking in hot sunlight. The sun was at its apex in the sky! He frowned as he pursed his lips, ...were they going on a long trip? Did Keith intend to make a day of it, and return home late at night?

And naturally, in typical Keith fashion, he offered no explanation whatsoever. Lance groaned. Hands in his pockets, he sauntered away from the shack, leaving Keith to do... uh, whatever he was doing. There, in the shade behind the rock that held the clothesline, he'd parked his sweet baby blue Vespa Primavera! Lance stroked the scooter's sides reverently, cooing in a soft tone: "Babe, you look lovely today, absolutely adorable."

He fastened the black helmet under his chin, and brought the visor down. What a relief! So lucky he'd opted for a tinted visor when he got his helmet. Lance breathed in and out, taking slow, deep breaths of the dry air, as his eyes adjusted to the dimmed light.

Before long Keith arrived; legs shaky and those dumb black fingerless gloves on his hands. Who wore gloves in this heat? Seriously, who? Keith already wore the blue helmet, visor down, so Lance could hardly read his face. Without a word, Keith rushed past him and sat down on the back of the scooter's saddle.

Lance paused.

"Let's go," said Keith. His voice sounded a little rushed... or agitated was a better word.

Lance couldn't put his finger on it, but sure as hell something was up with Keith. He decided not to comment on it though. Lance straddled the saddle and turned the key. He looked at Keith through the side mirrors: there was ample space between them, and Keith's hands were gripping the sides of the saddle.

"Sure you're okay in the back? Don't wanna sit up front?"

"I'm fine," Keith groaned, "can we just go already?"

"Okay, okay. Sheesh! Who pissed in your Cheerios?"

Keith sounded confused. "I don't... even ...have Cheerios for breakfast."

Lance rolled his eyes. He couldn't tell if Keith was naturally this oblivious, or if he was mocking him. "Which way do I go, genius?"

Keith reached over his shoulder and pointed. "That rock formation over there."

Lance started the engine and rode off in that direction, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. Cool air passed along his arms and neck, his shirt fluttered in the breeze. The earth was bumpy, and there were no roads for miles, so he couldn't go as fast as he'd like. At this speed Keith could comfortably sit in the back, not needing to wrap his arms around Lance. If he was being completely honest with himself, that bothered Lance a little. He enjoyed the physical comfort, just the sensation of being held... even if it was from a pal or a shallow acquaintance he didn't particularly like or hate, the feeling of being held, having someone's arms around you... or wrapping your arms around them, it always had something special, something magical. Lance pouted, he felt so untouched right now!

"Take a right turn here," Keith's hardened raspy voice said from behind him.

With practiced ease, Lance maneuvered his sweet blue baby into the turn. He saw a range rise up ahead.

"Hey, you sure we're heading in the right direction?" he shouted over the breeze, the low hum of the engine, and the noise of wheels crushing dirt. The last thing they needed was getting lost in a desert of all places!

"Trust me."

"If I don't make it back to the Garrison tonight, it's on you."

Did Keith just... punch him in the back? Lance gasped.

"Hey! No bothering the driver!"

He definitely felt something jab him between the shoulder blades this time. Lance growled beneath his breath. Why, that... little...!

"We're here."

"Huh?"

"I said: we're here."

Lance blinked in confusion. He pressed on the brakes lightly, but didn't bring sweet baby blue to a full stop just yet.

"There's nothing there..." he said numbly, gazing around him.

"Wrong, look to your right."

He did. For a second or so he didn't see it, but then... "Is that a hole in the ground?"

"Not so loud, Lance! Please, my ears!"

Lance scowled. He hadn't been loud. His speaking volume was perfectly reasonable. Scowling, he parked his baby a safe distance away from the cave, and let Keith get off. There it was again, he noted, there was something... giddy about Keith's movements, almost as if he were exploding on the inside. Lance took the helmet from Keith's jittering fingers and followed him in the cave.

Well the cave did explain why they needed a flashlight, he thought in hindsight. As the walls grew narrow around them, Lance was forced to hunch his back, until he was crawling on all fours with Keith's bantam hiney in his face, silhouetted by blue torch light.

He didn't have to reach far to grab Keith's left foot by the ankle. "Is there any way you can crawl faster?"

"Can you shut up?" Keith kicked his foot free.

"Oww! You nicked me in the nose!"

"Serves you right."

In the darkness Lance felt his face for any bleeding... his hand came back dry. "Jerk."

"Anyway," Keith's raspy voice breathed ahead of him, "we're nearly there."

Mere minutes later they stumbled into a wide opening. Lance sat up straight, arched his back and rubbed his throbbing knees. Keith stood, and walked over to the closest wall, shining his torch on it.

Lance rolled his eyes at the indigenous carvings on the wall. Was this what Keith had dragged him all the way out here for? He sighed, resting his head on his knees. Keith must've missed his true calling as an anthropologist. That thought put a sad smile on Lance's face. He was completely unprepared for what came next...

As though a thousand small lamps turned on all at once, the walls lit up red all around him!

Lance fell back in shock. The ceiling was glowing a dark dangerous red too. He sat up again, rubbing his head in confusion... when he saw Keith standing by the wall, torch turned off and dangling uselessly in his left hand, his right hand pressed to the wall. Lance's eyes grew wide. Keith's hand was pressed to a carving on the wall.

"And that is not all," Keith said, pocketing his torch and reaching his left hand out to Lance, "come, follow me."

Lance took Keith's hand and let him help him up. Keith held his hand for a little longer than was technically necessary. But it was nice, soothing in a way that told Lance he wasn't alone in this, he wasn't imagining things and if things got really bad, he had someone right beside him to suffer along with him. He wasn't alone. Keith let go and walked further down the cave, keeping his right hand on the glowing indigenous carvings. Lance was just a few steps behind. What could be more shocking than this?

He... he didn't even want to know. They rounded a corner, and a deep rumbling sound echoed through the tunnel, making Lance's heart jump to his throat. He panted, and turned, searching for the source of the strange sound. Two large yellow eyes stared back at him from the darkness.

Lance shrieked.

Keith burst out laughing. "Man, you're taking this a lot worse than I did." He snapped on his torch and lit up the dark alcove.

Lance expected to see a large animal... not ...whatever the coño this was... He scratched the back of his neck, looking at it.

The thing was big, red, and made entirely out of metal: a man made structure in the middle of a desert, hidden underground inside a glowing red cave... he didn't know what to make of it.

Keith shifted from foot to foot beside him. "Yeah, that's pretty much my reaction after I got over the initial shock," he said, followed by a couple of nervous laughs that echoed through the cave, making his voice sound even smaller. "Can't figure out what this thing is, or what it does, or what it's supposed to do."

A smile grew on Lance's face, stretching his mouth till his cheekbones squeezed his eyes. "Well then," he looked at Keith and said in a cool voice, dripping with sarcasm, "why don't we find out?"

Without waiting on a response, Lance set off and raced down the tunnel, toward the red metal thing.

"Lance! Wait!"

Lance laughed, cool cave air whipping past him as he ran. His feet bounced off the stony ground, almost there, almost there! He looked over his shoulder and giggled, Keith hadn't caught up to him yet, he hadn't even started running.

Wham! A jolt of pain hit him hard in the chest and spread through his body like wildfire, his head spun. He felt like he was about to die. On instinct Lance leapt back. Startled, he placed a hand over his beating heart. Whoa, when had his heart gone into overdrive? He rubbed soothing circles into his chest and looked warily at the big metal thing. What... what had it done to him?

"Lance! You okay?" Keith was at his side within seconds, gripping his shoulder and shaking him lightly until Lance looked him in the eye.

"Y-yeah... I guess." He didn't feel completely fine, but the worst of the dizziness had passed. Confusion turned into annoyance, and he scrunched up his face in a scowl. "Why didn't you say something?" He pushed at Keith's hand on his shoulder, shoving him away. "I could have died."

Keith gasped. "I tried warning you! You wouldn't listen."

It took Lance a moment to register that the cave was dark once more, save for the blue flashlight. The glowing blood red hue was completely gone. He turned to look at the other person with him in the cave: Keith wasn't touching the wall.

Lance frowned.

"What part of 'Lance, wait, the robot has a force field around it, don't go closer, you'll get burned' didn't you understand?" Keith went on.

"Put your hand on the wall," Lance said in a calm voice.

Keith blinked at him, mouth falling open and eyes going wide as he tilted his head. "...Huh?"

Lance let out a long breath. "On a carving," he said slowly, enunciating the words, "put your hand on a carving on the wall."

"Owwkayy..." Keith did just that, he placed his right hand on the wall and turned his torch off.

The walls lit up red again. The sharp intake of Lance's breath was palpable. "Let go," he stammered after a moment, still staring at the intricate red designs lining the walls.

"What? Why should I do that?" Keith sounded confused.

In a hard voice Lance repeated himself, staring Keith down. "Let go of the wall."

Keith dropped his right hand and the cave plunged into darkness.

Having let his eyes adjust to the dark, Lance used the robot's shining yellow eyes and the sound of Keith's breathing to navigate as he took careful shuffling steps to the closest wall. He ended up bumping shoulders with Keith. The other boy coughed, and stepped aside, giving Lance full access.

Lance reached out and pressed his hand to the wall where he remembered a carving to be. He felt the edges of a carving with his fingertips, a shallow indent... he followed the carving, smoothly traced his hand over it... he tried the same with another carving, but...

nothing happened. The cave remained dark, just as it always had been. Lance stared at the wall... the darkness hid his surprise.

He grabbed Keith's hand by the wrist and pressed it to the carving. Both boys gasped. Red lights lit up all around them.

They exchanged a look.

"It only lights up when you touch it..." Lance stammered, amazed.

"Yeah," Keith said, his voice raggedy with hardly contained emotion, "what is this even supposed to mean?"

Lance frowned. "Might be a fluke. Let go of the wall."

This time Keith dropped his hand instantly, Lance pressed his to the wall... nothing. They repeated the experiment several times; each trial gave the same result.

"Okay, it's official," Lance declared, stepping away from the wall. "This cave loves you."

Keith snorted. A faint red glow surrounded them, giving off vibes of danger, and adrenaline-fuelled joy. "Why me?"

Lance paused, puckering his lips as he mulled it over. "Mmm... maybe it's related to ancestry," he rubbed his chin. "Maybe..."

Keith's vibrant angry voice broke through Lance's musings, cutting him short: "I am not Native American."

"You could have Native blood in you," Lance said with a raised index finger.

Keith glared at him in silent fury.

Lance smirked, curling his raised finger. "Could be."

Keith turned his attention to the cave walls. A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "But if these carvings were made by the Indians... then," he pointed at the huge metal structure hidden in the alcove, "...what is that thing doing here?"

Lance blinked a few times. Keith had a point. Still, the carvings looked too Native in nature to not have been drawn by the Indians. "Hmm," he hummed, drawing Keith's attention. When he had Keith's full attention, he looked into his eyes. His eyes had... a peculiar shade under this light... almost like they were... purple? Lance shook the thought away, he raised both index fingers and brought them together, so they lined up side by side. "The carvings and the robot don't have to be related," he said, letting his index fingers drift apart to illustrate his point. "They could be two separate things."

Keith sent him a look that said 'really?'

"Or," now Lance's grin grew to astronomical proportions, "the robot could have been created by an ancient society!"

"Oh Lord," Keith rolled his eyes."Get out of here!"

Lance couldn't help the giggles that spilled from his throat. He clutched his stomach with both hands, trying to contain it, but only ended up laughing harder, sending weird squeaky echoes down the cave. "Maybe aliens visited us long long ago?"

Keith groaned and sauntered off to the alcove, shining his flashlight on the machine.

Lance shut his eyes in bliss and went on in the same teasing tone: "I've always held onto the belief that we've been visited by aliens, at least once."

He heard Keith's cool voice drift through the cave air, with a snarky ring to it: "You just want them to anal probe you."

"I..." his eyes shot open, "eh... what?"

"You heard me."

Keith sounded unbelievably smug. Lance hated him for it. He crossed his arms and huffed. "As if!"

Two angry footsteps later he stood right beside Keith, looking at the robot. Was it... was it a robot? Or a vehicle of some sort? He approached the thing closer, taking small baby steps. Now he was only inches away from where he'd been when the electric shock hit him earlier. Maybe... Lance blew a hot breath into the cool air of the cave. Yes! He had judged the distance right. The moment his breath hit the force field, a glowy ruby red barrier formed around the vehicle. Lance held his breath, he heard Keith gasp behind him. Moments later, the barrier was gone.

Lance blew against it again, this time making sure his breath was as warm and as wet as he could get it. He could see the condensate on the shield as it formed once more, a warm, soothing red... the barrier appeared to be made up of hundreds of glowing red hexagons, like a beehive. Lance frowned at it.

"Maybe," he thought out loud, murmuring the words under his breath, "maybe all we have to do is knock?"

He missed the frustrated groan behind him, and Keith saying it couldn't possibly be that easy: whoever left this robot lying here wouldn't want randos marching in and taking over, they had to have some key, or encrypted password system in place, something that could be accessed remotely. No, Lance heard none of that. He blocked it all out, blocked out Keith's useless words and rage because he knew, something deep inside his heart told him he had to do this. Lance reached out and knocked on the force field barrier.

He was thrown back, colliding into Keith. They were flung into a wall. Keith's flashlight flew five feet in the air, landing someplace on the rocky cave floor with the lamp sticking up. Everything was cast in faint dark blue hues.

Keith whined from under Lance's left elbow. Lance quickly scrambled off him. In the dim light from the fallen torch he could still clearly make out Keith's face, and Keith looked pissed.

"Nice going," Keith spat, twisting his right arm to massage his back. "Maybe next time you can take a gun with you and shoot it, Arrogance McLame."

Oh, he did not just...! Lance's hands balled to fists and he was on his feet in a second, towering over Keith who remained sprawled out on the floor.

"Oh yeah?" Lance shouted, sending echoes down the tunnel. "And you've known about this place how long, exactly?" he tilted his chin up and barked a derisive laugh. "I learned more about this cave in one hour of being here than you've gathered in days. Can't figure out a thing on your own, can you?" he tapped the side of his own forehead lightly. "Need me to suss it all out, don't you, Teeth Cocaine?"

That last comment had Keith crawling to a crouch, arms clenched at his sides and low growls escaping him as he glared up at Lance like a feral cat about to pounce. Lance could've sworn Keith's angular eyes looked violet that very second... he shook the thought away since now Keith ran into him, aiming a punch at his gut.

Lance side stepped and grabbed a good fistful of Keith's hair. Keith screamed, yelping back. He tried kicking Lance in the shins, the crotch, tried stamping on his feet. Deftly side stepping each kick, Lance made quick work of subduing Keith's flailing arms. He pinned them behind Keith's back in a hammerlock.

Both boys were panting heavily by the time Keith gave up trying to kick him where it hurt. After an anxious moment, Lance let him go; he stepped back, as far away from Keith as he could get in the tunnel.

Keith huddled his shoulders and rubbed his elbows. "I hate you!" he shouted at the wall.

Lance folded his arms and faced the opposite wall. "The feeling is mutual," he said in a voice of cold finality. Idly he patted his shirt... he hoped it hadn't been torn from all the punching tugging and scratching.

"Busy licking your wounds?" Keith's caustic voice cut the air.

Lance threw him a look.

"Care to help figure this thing out?" Keith jabbed a finger at the robot.

Lance turned his back to him. He was done. Done with the insults, done with Keith's toffee-nosed tone, done with his 'holier than thou' manner. He stomped away from the robot, away from Keith, from all of it, back down the tunnel where he remembered the gigantic hall to be.

"Lance?" an uncertain voice called out to him.

Lance didn't turn, he didn't stop. He was through with Keith.

"Lance!" Did Keith's voice just take on a pleading note? ...so what if it did? That didn't change the fact Keith was a massive jerk-off, and Lance was done being his lackey.

He continued walking down the tunnel. That was when the cave started rumbling, as though shaken by an earthquake. A rock the size of a football fell in front of his feet. He took a gasping step back, eyes wide, and saw the cave collapse all around him. Walls were crashing, coming down on all sides.

He met eyes with Keith who stood deeper in the tunnel, closer to the robotic thing. Had it caused all this damage? Lance knew the thing was dangerous, he knew it. Then he saw a rock rattle and break free... exactly above Keith's head.

"Keith!" he cried, "look out!"

Keith twisted toward the robot, completely missing the rock that was making for his head. Lance didn't think. He couldn't think, had no time to think. On gut instinct alone he raced through the tunnel, running faster than he'd ever ran before. He threw himself at Keith, knocking into him and slamming them both out of the way. They rolled over the cool cave floor, a tangle of limbs, hitting random jagged rocks that jabbed them everywhere.

Both boys grunted. Lance sat up, rubbing his right arm. When his hand came back wet, he knew his shirt was ruined. The earth was shaking underneath them, and all at once, Lance knew they had set off a very dangerous weapon. He looked at the red metal thing, and did a double take.

A hatch in the metal had opened...? Or a door, ...no, a hatch, a metal hatch door. Low glowing red lights were on inside, leading the way up metal stairs, inside the thing. So... it was meant to be entered? Lance frowned.

He didn't get much time to think, because the cave was shaking again, rocks rattling above them. Without a second thought Lance jumped to his feet, giving a sharp tug to Keith's jacket sleeve.

"Quick!" he hissed at Keith. "Get inside!"

Lance made a dive for the metal hatch door thing. Keith wasn't far behind. For some odd reason the invisible shield didn't materialize around the metal structure this time. Lance's only explanation for that was they must've broken the thing... somehow. They both heaved a sigh of relief when the hatch closed behind them, and the rumbling noises of the cave got muted, like they were happening somewhere far away, not right above them. Keith slumped against a metal wall, panting.

Also panting, Lance bent over, bracing his hands on his knees. He stared up at the stairs in front of him, wondering where they led.

Taking one step at a time, Lance shuffled up the steps. When nothing jumped out of the shadows to hold him back, he got bolder, taking two steps at a time. This thing was huge! He halted at the top of the stairs, at the edge of what appeared to be... a small room? The sliding doors to the room opened as soon as he climbed all the steps. Lance stared inside, slack jawed.

The room had a wide window, through which he could see the rumbling cave... Lance approached it closer, and stumbled on a chair. No, not just any chair, an armchair that seemed to tilt back, allowing the body to recline in a lounging position. When Keith's footsteps went up the stairs, Lance noticed the X shaped seatbelt draped around the armchair. He bent over to inspect it closely, almost pressing his nose to the clasp.

"So, ...uh... what does this thing do ...exactly?" Keith whispered from somewhere behind him.

Why was Keith being so quiet? The belt buckle didn't seem to have any insignia of any kind, no serial number... nothing. If the Galaxy Garrison or some other organization had this made, they didn't want anyone tracing it back to them. Lance looked around for any logos or trademarks that might give him a clue, but the symbols he did find looked alien to him... and then, he noticed something else.

"Keith!" he yelled, turning around, massive smile spreading across his face like a virus.

Keith winced. Perhaps he was being loud again, he didn't care, this was so much more important.

"Keith look!" Lance pointed at the armrests of the chair. "It has joysticks and pedals and everything." His heart thumped in his chest, making his blood run hot through his veins. A happy lightheaded feeling filled him top to toe. "We're in some kind of a... vessel," he shook his head, "no, vehicle."

It was unlikely, given the vehicle had been parked underground, very unlikely this tank could fly. Regardless, Lance's pilot senses were tingling, fingers itching to grab those joysticks, like a five year old left alone in a toy shop after closing time. He was in Heaven!

Keith frowned, looking about the room, his narrowed dark eyes eventually zeroed in on the driver's seat. "Looks like it was designed to be operated by only one person."

That was true. There weren't any other seats in the room... or should he say 'cockpit'? He shared a sideways glance with Keith, their eyes locked in challenge. Both boys launched themselves at the single seat.

Shoulder to shoulder, Keith shoved him hard. "I get to steer!"

"No, me!" Lance grabbed the headrest with both hands and tried to push his knee onto the seat. He only succeeded in placing his foot on the footrest before Keith pried his hands off.

"Ugh," Keith grunted, "get out of my way."

"What are you talking about, you are in my way!"

Standing on either side of the armchair they pressed into each other, jaws locked jowl to jowl. They growled and swatted at each other with their hands, the blows were weak but still stung. Keith slapped Lance in the face, Lance smacked Keith a new one on the booty.

"Fuck you!" Keith howled in anger.

"No, fuck you!"

Facing off with hunched backs, faces deformed in cruel scowls, they weren't prepared for what came next. The vehicle moved.

The force of the motion knocked Lance off balance and into the chair. Keith barely hung onto it, fingers gripping an armrest, knuckles turning white. They gasped as the vehicle made another sudden movement, tossing Lance out of the seat. He landed on the floor, hard on his bum.

Pain coursed through Lance's spine and he reached down to massage his hurt buttocks. He barely registered that Keith was now slumped sideways over the chair, in an unflattering heap.

"What..." Keith weakly whined from where he'd fallen, "what is going on?"

"I... I don't know." His own voice sounded muffled to his own ears, like it came from underwater.

The machine jerked again, shoving Keith into the seat and Lance into a wall. He groaned.

"Fuck," Keith gasped, shivering as he looked all about him, as though lost in a daze.

"Keith," Lance didn't care if he shouted right now, didn't care if his voice sounded weak and needy to his own ears, he didn't give a rat's ass who got to pilot this thing, all he cared about was getting through to his friend and stopping umm... whatever this shaking thing was. "There's a belt on the seat!"

He didn't have to tell Keith to use it, Keith was already looking for it. Clumsy small hands and pointy fingers clutched helplessly at the seatbelt.

"How do I put this thing on?"

"I don't know! Why you asking me?"

Another knock and Lance was flung back into the seat, partly splayed over Keith, his left arm flash against Keith's chest. Seconds later he felt the strong grip of hands on him, digging into his back, holding him in place.

"Now what?" Keith whispered close to his ear.

Lance reached down and buckled the belt properly at Keith's chest. Keith grunted when the clasp made a sharp clicking sound. Lance adjusted himself on the seat, holding onto the armrests till he was relatively comfortable on Keith's lap. He noticed that Keith's hands never left him, merely shifted over to his sides as he turned to face the window... uh... windshield?

"Now..." Lance said, looking at the glowy red display before him, "we figure out how to operate this thing... so it doesn't kill us."

The last bit of his sentence sent a chill down his own spine and made the cockpit grow eerily quiet. Keith choked on a breath.

"Lance, I don't think any of these display screens are in English."

Keith was right, the glowy translucent red displays were covered in a bunch of weird little symbols... hieroglyphs? that he couldn't place. He puckered his lips in thought.

"What do you think Keith, do the letters look Korean?"

Keith smacked him over the head.

"Oww." Lance rubbed the spot gingerly and sent a displeased glare Keith's way.

"They could be code," Keith spoke over his shoulder, sounding cool and collected, like he hadn't just lashed out violently and hit the back of Lance's head.

Lance glared daggers at Keith.

"What?" Keith said, truly dumbfounded. "You don't think these symbols could be coded letters?"

Lance shook his head, turning back to the screens below the windshield. "Nevermind, it's worth a try."

He leaned forward, set dusty fingertips to the touchscreen when the vehicle jerked once more. The knock nearly flung him out the chair, he gasped, panting as Keith's fingers dug into his sides. They had to do something about this, and they had to do it fast. Lance slung his right arm around Keith's neck. With shaking fingers he hurriedly typed something random into the control panel, and pressed a button to his left.

He held his breath, not daring to breathe as a grinding mechanical sound came from above. Keith let go of him and placed his hands on the armrests. An explosion of fiery orange lit up the world around them.

Lance screamed, barely registering Keith's arms snake around his waist. The burst of light came with a horrific rumble, loud enough to hurt his ears. Boulders crashed into their windshield. Lance clawed his fingers in the collar of Keith's jacket, he thought he was going to die.

"Lance? Lance!"

Hands shook his shoulders... Lance opened his eyes, he blinked and stared. The cave, it was no more.

Looking out the windshield now, he saw a desert landscape: sand, sand, flat red earth as far as the eye could see... red rocks far, far off on the horizon, and above it only sky... They were outside, outside the cave... but how could that be...?

Had this machine just... destroyed the cave they found it in? Lance didn't know if he should feel lucky to be out of that dark place that frankly gave him the creeps, or scared. If this machine was strong enough to destroy a cave that had been here for centuries, what else could it destroy? And, should they be inside it?

Keith nudged him a little. Repositioning himself on Keith's lap, Lance reached for the control panel again. He cringed... what en Dios should he type? He couldn't make sense of any of these weird letters. Lance frowned, placed his hand flat on the touchscreen, and tried thinking of something, anything. Wait, what if... his mouth fell open when a thought struck him, clear as day. Unhooking his right arm from Keith's shoulders, he leaned over the red display screen, hands poised over the panel.

Eyes closed, he typed a command sequence as if this was an ordinary QWERTY keyboard. If the letters were coded, there was a big chance the keypad would have the same layout! After all, how else were soldiers supposed to operate this thing? It didn't make sense to retrain them to type on a radically different keypad.

The machine jerked into motion as soon as Lance hit Intro. It staggered forward, then swayed sharply back and the cockpit tilted to the left. Okay, not QWERTY! Lance frantically took to typing, with closed eyes he brought the Dvorak layout to mind, silently blessing his love for outdated 90s keyboard-based videogames.

A low growl shuddered through the machine, making Lance's arm hairs stand on end. With a loud roar the vehicle surged forward at breakneck speed. Lance panicked, inhaling and exhaling shallow breaths. Keith's hands tightened on his waist. Okay, not Dvorak either! He had one last shot at this before they were doomed. Lance swore, if this keyboard wasn't Colemak, he was sawing off his own left hand!

The vehicle slowed down, till it moved smoothly over the desert plains. Keith let out a sigh, warm breath fanned the back of Lance's neck.

Lance blinked, once, twice, a feather light fluffy feeling fluttered in his chest. He couldn't help the massive grin that found its way to his face. He'd figured it out! He had solved the mystery that had taken Keith so many days to understand. Lance preened in the glory, squeezing his eyes to half moons. He twisted to look over his shoulder.

"What do you say, Keith, let's take this baby for a ride."

Keith frowned back at him. "Do you even know how this thing functions?"

Lance shrugged. The happy feeling bubbling up within him was too much to ignore, it called for adventure, called for danger, exploration. "Who cares!" He snapped back around and gripped the joysticks firmly in both hands. "I wanna try something."

"Fine," Keith grumbled underneath him.

Lance smirked. He had a feeling, just a feeling, that if he typed a certain control sequence in the display screen and steered the joysticks the right way, this vehicle would fly. He was dying to find out.

With a swift pull he yanked the joysticks back, leaning as far back as the seat would let him, head slammed into Keith's shoulder. The craft made a deep mechanical purr as it came to a standstill. Both boys held their breaths, Keith gripped the armrests in anxious anticipation, Lance set his jaw and curled his legs around the seat.

The craft lurched into the air. Lance was squished against Keith's chest, drawing a hissing sigh from his lungs as the craft went up, up, up, like a rollercoaster starting up a hill. They broke into the stratosphere like it was nothing. Lance felt the thrill from under his fingertips, he felt it ooze through his chest, to his toes, his cheeks. He was inside a ship, a ship! Flying a wonderful powerful airplane.

"Alright!" Lance whooped. "Yeah!"

He twisted, turning his head back: "Keith, Keith, this ship can fly!"

But Keith wasn't looking too good, he looked a little pale. Well, paler than he normally did... he looked like he was about to get sick.

Lance held up his index finger. "Hey, no puking in the cockpit."

Keith clenched his jaw crossly and glared at him. "Do you know how to pilot this thing?"

Lance blinked. Angrier than he'd ever heard him before, Keith went on, voice rising in wrath and distress.

"Do you even know what those symbols mean?" Keith pointed at something behind his back. He had to be pointing at the display screens.

Yeah, he was probably pointing at the screens. Lance pursed his lip. "Well...no, but,"

A familiar emptiness engulfed his tummy, the same way it felt when he got on freefall rides... His heart clenched and his and Keith's breaths did a collective hitch. He didn't get to say another word before the ship reached its apex in the sky, and they were falling, falling!

Falling back down to Earth. Lance blinked back tears, fighting the constricting feeling inside his chest. Two hands shot forward and saved him from flying all over the cockpit. The hands held him tight. Legs wrapped around his own, acting like a belt that anchored him to the seat. He relaxed into Keith's hold and shut his eyes.

He didn't want to see the clouds that rushed past, the red, dead earth that got nearer and nearer. He could feel Keith's shallow breaths, the rapid rise and fall of his chest against his back. Tears formed at the edges of his eyes. Fuck fuckity fuck. This was no game anymore. This was no simulation, not a rollercoaster ride. They were crash landing down to Earth inside an aircraft neither of them knew how to pilot. If there was an ejector seat system, neither of them knew where to find it or how to activate. They were going to die.

Keith breathed something soft right above his ear. The words came out mumbled so Lance hardly heard them over the din of the aircraft.

"What's that?" Lance shouted like a deaf man, or a grandpa, he didn't care which: he was going through life stages in the blink of an eye.

"I don't hate you!" Keith shouted over the general hum and buzz around them.

Lance flashed his eyes open. What? Of all the things Keith could say... he chose to say that? A solution to their problem would be very nice right about now. Something about the dead finality of it struck him deep within, there was no escape, there were no clever tricks he could pull from his sleeve at the very last second. And Keith knew this, too.

He spun himself around in Keith's hold. One terrified face met another. "Same here," Lance whispered.

He hoped Keith heard it. He didn't know what he was doing, or why, but he slid his eyes shut, clutched fistfuls of Keith's shirt and pushed his face into Keith's, bringing their lips together. Navigating by touch and sound alone, his lips found Keith's, and nibbled gently.

If these were to be his last moments on Earth, he wanted to make them count, he wanted to feel, to feel good, not this awful dreadful weight above his head, telling him he was about to die.

Seconds passed and Keith kissed back. Slow at first, testing the waters, then a tongue licked against his lip and Lance gladly let him in, anything to dull his senses to the mechanical roar around them. Keith's tongue slipped past his lips, past his teeth, and they touched. Lively at first, soon growing needy. The threat of certain death, destruction hung thick in the air, suffocating them. Lance trembled, shallow breaths came in and out his nose, his head spun. Arms compressed his sides and sharp nails dug lines down his back. It was like kissing with a gun held to your head, one wrong move and they would blow your brains away.

Lance didn't dare open his eyes. Somewhere far off in the distance, he heard a click, followed by the low hiss of engines coming into gear. Strangely he thought he saw something, like an image projected into his mind: red desert earth coming at them at maddening speed.

Only there was no way he could actually see that. His eyes were closed, and he had his back to the windshield this entire time. It didn't make sense, nothing made sense but his lips on Keith's, their tongues rubbing against each other, connecting. And still... he saw red earth rapidly approach. No matter how hard he clenched his eyes shut and tried to unsee it, he couldn't escape this view. It was there, it was there, it was part of him, or... he'd become part of the machine, his arms extending and folding inside metal casing, his heart beating to the flare of the engine, his mind melding into the cables and wires that controlled the craft...

Desperately Lance knotted his hands into Keith's shirt, feeling soft cotton fabric, its texture under his fingertips grounded him in reality. He was going through his final life stage: senile dementia.

None of this was real, none of it, but... it was? He... he was alive, a little voice said inside his head, and another raspier voice growled at him, like a lion's roar. He frowned into the kiss, something wasn't right, it was not right. Did it... did it really sound like that growl was telling him what to do? Like, giving him instructions?

He broke the kiss, unlocking wet lips from Keith's, and dared open his eyes. Keith was panting, his bangs were parted, brows furrowed and eyes at half mast. What? his expression seemed to say.

Lance let his hands trail up from where they rested on Keith's chest, and cupped his cheeks gently. "I, I'm gonna try something," he breathed, not once losing eye contact. "Can you keep holding me?"

"Don't do anything," Keith grit out between clenched teeth.

"What?" Lance blinked.

"You've done enough. Last time you," Keith's voice took on a mocking tone, "tried something," then dropped back to its usual wooden one, "we blasted off into the sky."

He couldn't believe this. Instead of arguing, Lance whirled around and grabbed the joysticks. There was no point, no point trying to convince Keith when he was so hell bent on disagreeing. He hoped Keith got the message.

Fingers squeezing the joysticks, Lance pursed his lips. Come on, come on, come on! He watched the ground come closer, they were at minimum parachute altitude, if he didn't do something fast, they were dead meat for sure. The cockpit grew hot. Sweat dripped down his forehead, joysticks all clammy in his hands. Lance grit his teeth and pushed the joysticks forward with all his might.

And they kept on falling, falling lower still, to their death. Nothing Lance tried seemed to work. A pit of darkness opened up and swallowed him whole, the voice in the back of his mind, the one that rumbled like the craft, the one that told him what to do, fell silent, completely still. He was on his own again, tears sparked at the corners and ringed his eyes, this was it. This was really it, it was the end, the end of him. Keith's hands still encircled his chest like a belt, his legs draped over Lance's, keeping his feet away from the pedals... the pedals!

"Let go of my legs!"

"Huh?"

"Let go!"

"But then you'll..."

Lance wrestled his feet free and rammed his right foot on one pedal. He closed his eyes. Just then he was pressed flat against Keith, making both of them grunt. Lance snapped his eyes open and watched the desert plains whip past. The aircraft was flying parallel to the earth, thrusters engaged. Lance took a moment to breathe, then turned and met a very shocked, pale Keith. They were alive! Alive! He was so happy he could kiss Keith again.

Instead he settled on placing his hands on either side of Keith's face and yelling: "Buddy! We made it!"

Keith grabbed his wrists and pried his hands off. "I can see why the Garrison booted you from Fighter Class ― you're a terrible pilot."

Lance squawked. "Hey! You're the one who got kicked out, not me."

"Whatever."

With a huff Lance turned back to the windshield. The view before him instantly lifted his mood. He was flying, flying! Better yet, he was piloting this ship. Giddy fingers ran over the control panel as his tongue slipped past his lips, a signature smirk on his face. He was dying to see what else this craft could do.

Typing a command he'd learned in last year's Flight Sim class, Lance grabbed the joysticks and rocked them to the left. The craft swerved toward a range of cliffs. Keith's nails dug into his abdomen.

"Are you insane!"

Lance threw his head back and laughed.

Just as they were about to crash into the red stoned cliff, he tugged both joysticks back sharp, pedal to the metal. The craft changed course easily and skirted the stone wall like it was child's play.

"Woohoo!"

"Idiot."

Not taking his eyes off course, he caught a glimpse of Keith in the corner of his sight. His friend was scowling; a deep frown ran all the way between his pitch black brows. Lance chuckled.

"Pussy."

Keith jabbed him in the ribs, hard. It was still totally worth it. Lance slowed the ship down and cruised her at a cozy speed over the desert that seemed to stretch out forever, endless in all directions.

"Uhh... Keith? I think we're lost."

An arm reached over his shoulder and pointed somewhere to the right. "About two miles in that direction will take us back to the cave."

He said it so casually Lance hardly noticed the hitch of his own voice and drastic widening of his eyes. "How do you know all this stuff?"

Keith groaned. "Fine, could be more like ten miles. Just, take us back already before we really get lost."

He had a point. With a sigh Lance hauled the ship around and let her drift in the direction Keith showed. It took only ten minutes before their surroundings started looking familiar. After that he located the caved cave quite easily. It was rather... hard to miss. The cave had imploded leaving a large gaping hole of upturned earth in its wake.

"Hey!" Lance pointed to a far off spot in the distance. "I can see your shack from up here."

"My house," Keith corrected him.

"Whatever," looking over his shoulder Lance waggled his eyebrows. "Want me to take you home?" his voice dropped to a deep low pitch.

"Park the vehicle right here."

Lance blinked. "But I can take you back home in a jiffy, just wah..."

"I said, park the vehicle right here."

"But why?"

"With how dense you are I can't believe you've not flunked out the Garrison yet."

"Hey!"

"Urrrggh...! It's obvious to everyone with half a brain that the people who built this ship won't like us using it. As soon as they notice it's gone they'll come looking for us, and I don't need any crazed organizations on my back. Do you?"

"I think they'll notice the wrecked cave... we can't exactly hide this ship above ground or anything."

"Just... park the ship here, please," in a softer voice Keith whispered into the cockpit, "I don't want anything to do with it."

"No."

"What?"

Lance smiled. "I said no," he jerked the joysticks forward and pushed down on the gas pedal. The airship roared into gear, pivoted and leaped. Lance was on cloud nine. This was what he was made for, this was what all those years of training had led up to, this moment. He didn't want it to end.

"Sooo..." Keith drawled in a bored tone, "should I prepare a second sleeping bag, or will you walk all the way back to the Garrison?"

"What?" Lance raised an eyebrow.

"If we keep the ship, we can't let people know we have it, especially not the Garrison. You catch my drift?"

"Well duh, I'm not that fucked in the head Keith."

"So you plan on having a fucking sleepover at my place? You better tell me now."

Huh? What was Keith going on about? Then he noticed something blue flash by in the corner of the windshield.

"Oh shit, my bike!"

He pulled the craft around, descending to let it hover close to the ground. Dust clouds swept all over the imploded cave site. There, just by the edge of collapsed rock, his baby blue Vespa Primavera stood neatly parked on reddish earth. Phew! Now he just needed something to tow it with, he trailed fingers over the keypad, maybe...

Metal tendrils reached out and cradled his blue baby, almost like ...paws? The mechanical arms lifted his moped off the ground. Lance grinned. He steered the ship toward the shack, full speed ahead.

"Now I'm taking you home."

. . .

Three people were not meant to be squished on a moped like this, but they were. Hunk scooted forward, closer to Lance, to give Pidge some space. For some reason Gunderson had insisted on sitting in the very back... Hunk worried the boy might fall off as Lance took them through another crazy turn.

Lance left the freeway in favor of some barely paved rural road. Dust clouds rose up around them. Hunk coughed into his helmet's visor, so grateful he was wearing his own custom made helmet, and not one of Lance's tiny narrow ones that cramped his ears to his skull.

"So where are we going?" Pidge cried over the wind.

"You'll see!" Lance shouted over the hum hum of the engine. He sat hunched over the steering bar, eyes on the road.

Hunk looked over Lance's black helmet at the desert stretching out before them. It was a desert; the vegetation got scarcer with each mile, and in the distance he could barely see any trees. Only low, yellowed and tough looking grasses grew here. When he started thinking of plants, his thoughts quickly drifted to fruit, vegetables... to pineapples on pizza, oven roasted eggplants, buttered corn sticks, french fries dipped in mustard, banana flambé, kiwi smoothies, strawberry sundaes.

His stomach grumbled. As per Lance's request, he hadn't had a bite to eat at breakfast today. Hunk scowled. What on Earth could be so urgent it would override his basic human needs?

Lance pulled up by a chain of rocks, took off his helmet and grinned at them over his shoulder. "That mission only failed because it was a simulation. In real life I'm a super good pilot."

Hunk felt the bike bounce as Pidge hopped off. The smaller cadet landed on his feet a few steps away, and with a snippy gesture handed Lance his blue helmet back.

Pidge rolled his eyes. "Okay Lance, whatever you say."

Before Lance could launch into yet another argument with their new friend, Hunk placed a hand on Lance's shoulder. "What did you want to show us?"

Lance's eyes gleamed with something ranging from euphoria to certifiable insanity. Frankly speaking it scared Hunk more than a little... these last few weeks Lance had been... unstable at best, and that was the nicest way to describe it. He worried because as much as he hated how Lance could be sometimes, he loved the guy. And not in a luv love kind of way, he wasn't attracted to him or anything, they just... got along so well it made his time at the Garrison a lot more bearable, and fun. He hated seeing Lance like this, like he was in pain, a pain that devoured his very mind.

"Come on," with a quick wave of his hand Lance scampered up a narrow stone path and disappeared behind two large boulders.

Hunk and Pidge exchanged a look.

"Should we ...uh follow him?" Hunk asked eventually.

Pidge shrugged. "Might as well, we came all the way out here, so staying back would be a waste." His lips curled up in a smile. "Let's see what the big goofball has to show us."

Hunk smiled back. Together they walked up the path, Pidge in front, Hunk making up the rear. If this turned dangerous, he wanted to be as far from the menace as he could get. They rounded a corner and Pidge suddenly stopped moving. Hunk nearly bumped into him, stopping short of stumbling over the boy.

What? What could possibly...

All speech and coherent thought flew out the window. Lance stood in the shadow of a shack mounted with a satellite dish, sun panels and a tangle of power cables. What really drew his attention though was the gigantic red robot standing right next to the shack. What. The. Fuck.

Lance waved at them, keeping his hand high above his head, wearing a massive grin on his face. He looked like he could burst from joy any moment now. Hunk forced his jaw to close. In a daze he walked over to where Lance was bouncing up and down on the ground.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Lance practically screamed in his face.

Pidge was right behind him. "Is... is that what I think it is?"

Lance made two guns with his hands and pointed them at Pidge. "If what you're thinking is a spaceship, then you're correct."

"Ha-how," Hunk stammered, "where did you get this?" He approached the ship so he could see its hull up close. The metal gleamed in the sun, like there wasn't a speck of dust on it. Which was technically impossible since it must have been standing here for awhile, in the middle of a sandy fucking desert.

He looked up at Lance. Pidge was also sending curious looks Lance's way.

Lance smiled awkwardly, before shrugging and side-stepping away from the shack. "Leh-eht's just say it's my spaceship ― I own it."

"Sure you do." Pidge sounded like he didn't believe a word that came out of Lance's mouth, and Hunk was inclined to think the same.

"Owwkayy, maybe it's more like I'm borrowing it."

Gunderson's deadpan look was enough to scare two rabbits from fucking. "You stole a spaceship."

"Stole?" Lance threw his arms up dramatically. "Why does it always have to be 'stealing', why can't I legitimately own a spacecraft, huh? Is it because I'm Hispanic, is it because I'm Cubano? Oh my God, I feel so triggered right now!"

"Lance, drop the theatrics."

Lance pouted. "But I'm so good at those."

"We know."

Hunk giggled into his fist. "What's up with the shack, man? This where you bring girls and shit?" Hunk eyed the rickety thing. One board looked so poorly hammered to the main frame that it would crack and fall any moment now.

He didn't miss the flush that bloomed on Lance's cheeks mere moments later. "What? No, the shack is hardly relevant here. Some hobo built it."

Hunk sent him a knowing look.

"Whatever, forget about the shack," Lance gestured at the huge chunk of metal, "there's a spaceship standing right next to you."

Hunk scratched his chin. "When you said you're a super duper pilot in real life, you didn't mean..." he trailed off, looking from Lance to the craft and back at Lance. Hunk frowned when he saw Lance smirk. This... this was not what Hunk wanted to hear, anything, anything but this.

"I sure did," Lance wiggled his eyebrows.

Pidge spoke up. "Remember how he crashed our simulation fighter jet into the ground?"

Hunk nodded, "yeah."

"And how that wing got completely torn off?"

"Uh huh."

Pidge smiled. "How about we grab his bike and head back to the Garrison? I hear there's a nice diner along the road."

Hunk grinned. "Awesome."

"You can't take my bike!" Lance's voice hiked up and turned into a squeak. He wrung his hands, his expression turned desperate. "You can't leave me stranded here in the desert without food or water, miles away from the closest town. Do you know how cruel that is?"

Hunk puckered his lips and paused in his tracks, but Pidge only raised an eyebrow. "The brilliant asstronaut stuck in a desert right beside his fully operational high class spaceship."

"I can't fly this thing to the Garrison!"

Pidge stopped by the rocks that hid the bike from view, and smirked. "Because you can't actually fly it."

"Watch me," Lance marched to the front of the vehicle and placed his hand on some panel.

Hunk frowned. Were they actually going through with this? He couldn't for the life of him picture Lance piloting a spacecraft this big. What bothered him most, this ship looked nothing like the Garrison ships in the flight simulations. He hoped its interior would be more similar.

A hatch door opened to reveal a set of glowing red and white stairs. Hunk stared inside, mesmerized by the glow.

Lance looked over his shoulder and waved. A contagious smile was on his lips. "Well what are you waiting for?" he yelled, jumping through the hatch. "Get on board."

Hunk exchanged a look with Pidge. "So do we... uh?"

Pidge shrugged. "Might as well. It's not like I've got anything better to do this Saturday," hands buried in his shorts he sauntered off to the hatch door.

After some moments ruminating, weighing the pros and cons, Hunk decided he'd rather feel a little motion sick than be left out of the main event. He couldn't help feeling curious about the craft... like, what alloy it was made of, what it looked like on the inside. He had so many questions.

So he swallowed down his fear and took brave steps toward the vehicle. He let Pidge go ahead of him through the hatch. Pidge climbed the steps two at a time, Hunk shambled up after him, bracing his hands on the walls since there were no railings to hold onto. They were still on the stairs when the engines kicked into gear, making the walls around them vibrate. Hunk gasped, he glanced over his shoulder and to his horror saw the hatch door close behind him. His last chance to get out of this... gone.

Something soft and warm enveloped his right hand that was braced on the wall. Hunk looked up at his hand, and blinked.

He shared a look with Pidge.

The other boy smiled at him warmly. It was such a genuine, supportive smile, Hunk felt his heart swell with courage.

They walked up the remaining steps with their hands locked; Hunk drew strength from it. The ship rattled and roared into life. Once inside the cockpit, Pidge let his hand go, and turned to the translucent red display screens set up around the windshield.

"Wow," Pidge gasped, bringing his face up close to the screens. "This technology is amazing... Lance, where'd you get this spacecraft?" he said without looking away from the screen.

Lance was already seated in the single pilot seat at the center of the cockpit, lounging casually, seatbelt fastened. "It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you some time."

Pidge blinked at the weird symbols that started popping up all over the screen. "And this ship... can go fast enough to reach orbit?"

Hunk looked at Lance. The cockpit jerked, which made the floor shudder. Hunk all but lost his footing before he spotted a bar along the wall and grabbed it. Phew.

Lance cracked his knuckles with a look of glee. "Bet I can fly us to the Moon and back!"

"Oh really now?" Pidge sounded sceptic. He lifted his face from the screen and shifted his glasses up his nose.

Hunk didn't like the wicked grin that formed on Lance's face. Before he could fully register what was happening, Lance had wrenched back a joystick, and the ship shot into the air.

Hunk shrieked, holding onto the bar with all his might. He saw Lance throw his head back and laugh, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

It wasn't like they were going too fast or anything. Considering where the ship was headed, its acceleration was surprisingly low... weren't spaceships supposed to go faster? But the sudden jolt had startled Hunk, he had not seen that coming. After all that talk about flying the ship, he had almost thought, alsmost hoped this would turn out to be one of Lance's tall tales.

But no, this was real. Hunk stared out the windshield and watched funny colored clouds drift by... he was doing it, he was actually getting to do it, the one thing he'd only dared dream about all his life... but never believed he'd ever get a chance to do.

He was going into space.

The ship climbed the heavens in smooth spiraling motions, as if it were floating on a stream of air, swimming through the atmosphere. Hunk felt a smile bloom on his lips when the ship burst through a thick layer of clouds and entered a realm of blue. They left the troposphere behind them, and the ship coasted over an ocean of fluffy white clouds.

Sparkling a dazzling light from above was the sun. It looked closer now than it had ever been, like they could easily cross the cloud sea over to it. Soon enough the world turned black around them, a fluorescent blue sheen came over the sea of clouds, the sun was a white flare amid the darkness. They were passing through the ozone layer! Hunk was higher than any plane had ever taken him. Millions of little light specks flashed on around them... stars. He was seeing stars from the mesosphere, or was it the thermosphere? The craft sped away from the sun's blinding glare. Hunk stared at the darkness of space, the fullness of space, the black tissue of the universe. A reverent smile clung to his lips. There! They were definitely in the upper reaches of the Earth's atmosphere, for now he saw a small pastry colored circle in the distance. His stomach rumbled. That was, that had to be, the moon...

He heard a gasp right beside him and turned away from the vista. Pidge gaped through the windshield, he held onto the back of the pilot seat with one hand, and held his glasses in the other. Lance had a peaceful smile on his face, and was drinking in the view.

Pidge's high pitched voice broke the silence, "aren't we supposed to feel weightless now?"

Hunk blinked, looked at himself, then the floor, the walls of the cockpit, the vast vista of space before them... "Yeah! What, what's happening?" he hated how his own voice tapered off at the end, all squeaky and insecure, like his voice was still breaking. He hadn't sounded like that in years. Aww man.

Lance sat up in his seat, frowning and scratching the back of his head. "Huh, good point."

The only logical conclusion could be... the words were out Hunk's mouth before he could bite his tongue: "unless this craft has artificial gravity technology."

Both Lance and Pidge turned to stare at him. Hunk felt heat pool in his cheeks... okay maybe that was one of his lesser moments, yeah probably. Lance shrugged and turned back to the windshield, hands on the joysticks. He quickly typed something into a control panel, and pressed his foot down on the right pedal. A wicked grin slid onto Lance's lips.

The craft swerved to the left, the floor tilted, and apparently so did the artificial gravity system. Hunk held on to the bar for dear life, dizzy with the motion. Pidge was knocked into the back of the pilot seat, ending up with both his arms wrapped around Lance's shoulders. His glasses had fallen into Lance's lap.

"Jesus, Lance," Hunk gasped, glaring daggers at his friend, "at least give us a warning when you do that."

Lance laughed into the silent depths of space while Pidge grumpily reached around him and took back his glasses. The moon was coming closer. All previous thoughts fled Hunk's mind as he stared at the round pale rock before them. They traveled so fast, it barely took any time at all to get here. Up close the craters stood in stark contrast to the moon's surface, casting long blue shadows that tapered off into a pasty chalk white...

"Oh!" Hunk jumped up and down excitedly, "oh!" he felt like a child on a school excursion, raising his hand for permission, "can we land on the moon?"

Not letting go of the joysticks, with his foot on the gas, Lance pursed his lips. "Maybe next time," he said coolly.

Hunk dropped his arms with a pout. The craft flew all the way round, till they were in the moon's shadow. Everything turned several shades darker.

Pidge had stars in his eyes. "Next time I have to bring my camera for this. The others at the Garrison are not gonna believe me!"

Lance leaned back in the seat and cast a look over his shoulder. One of his brows was quirked, lips pulled in the smuggest of smirks. "You have to admit I'm a pretty good pilot."

Hunk smiled back faintly. "Well you are a lot better than you were in the simulator," he tried carefully.

"It's not my fault Ivysaur set the parameters wrong!" Lance crossed his arms. He looked off to the side, brows furrowed in boiling anger. "I so would have made it through that tunnel if it were the real deal."

Hunk cringed. "Sure buddy."

Taking the joysticks in his hands and turning his attention to the windshield, Lance mumbled, "he hates me. Ever since I joined the Garrison, Commander Iverson has been nothing but mean to me." Lance narrowed his eyes, "the man plays favorites and it's not fair," he heaved a long sigh, then steered the spaceship down to Earth.

The cockpit shuddered upon re-entry to the Earth's atmosphere. Hunk braced himself, gritting his teeth and bending through the knees. Pidge hugged the back of the pilot seat, chin resting on Lance's shoulder, eyes wide shut. Red and orange clouds rushed by them, looking beautiful, a dangerous kind of beauty. But soon enough the vessel slowed down, till it was floating gracefully through a series of fluffy white candy floss clouds. Pidge rubbed at his eyes as though awaking from a dream. Hunk breathed a sigh of relief, then a massive happy all consuming smile clung to him: he had gone into space, into space! And come back, alive and breathing and well. He'd seen the moon! Oh, he was so gonna tweet about this tonight. Hunk grinned. All his friends at the Garrison and at his old school were gonna be sick jealous of him. Haha.

As they dipped below the clouds, a vast desert landscape came into view. The sky seemed blue here, clouds so high you could hardly see them. Hunk didn't know how Lance navigated the ship, how he knew exactly where to find that ramshackle old shack of his like a needle in a haystack, but they were right back where they started, flying above the shack, slowly descending. Hunk strained his eyes to see. From up here the shack had the size of a matchbox, so tiny. He frowned when he saw a smaller ant sized dot move around the shack. It had to be considerably big to be visible from up here, but what could it be?

Hunk's frown deepened when the spacecraft descended lower yet, and the dot grew in size. It no longer resembled an ant... was that... was it a person? Hunk stared out the windshield as more and more of this human came into view. He noticed they were looking up, at the sky, at the spacecraft! They must be looking at the craft. What else could they be looking at?

The person's arms were folded over their chest, legs a shoulder-width apart as they glared up at the sky ...they looked angry. Their short black hair whipped about their face, from the turbulence caused by the landing spaceship.

"Uh oh," Lance chuckled, drawing Hunk's attention. "Keith does not look happy."

Hunk's jaw dropped. "Is that Keith?"

Pidge blinked, staring at the both of them. "Who's Keith?"

"This hot shot Fighter Class pilot Lance is always talking about."

Pidge nodded, "oh."

Lance whirled around in the pilot seat. "I do not always talk about Keith!"

Hunk squeezed his eyes shut laughing. "Dude you so do. Your obsession with him is bordering on love."

An angered growl escaped Lance's throat.

Hunk turned to Pidge. "You see Lance has a little man crush on Keith."

Pidge frowned but still slowly bobbed his head.

"No! I don't."

Hunk giggled, "a big man crush."

"I'm not listening." With a groan Lance turned to the controls and brought the craft down gently to the ground.

Hunk was the first to make it out the ship. He let out a wail of relief when his feet touched solid ground. Eyes closed, he drank in dry desert air, basking in the sunlight. Never thought he would miss it that much. The sweat dripping down his back didn't bother him, he was just so happy to be alive, and have seen so much, have traveled so far, farther than he'd ever dreamt of going.

Pidge and Lance took their sweet time getting out of the craft, and when they did, Pidge was bombarding Lance with questions that Lance avoided answering. A proud smile was etched on Lance's face as he casually leaned against the ship's hull, hunching his back a little to bring his face closer to Pidge's height.

"Can we schedule a trip for next week? Then I can bring some equipment from the Garrison, there's so many things I'd like to check."

"No," a raspy voice said from behind before Lance could reply.

Everyone turned their heads. Keith stood there, looking disheveled as fuck in a jacket that had seen better days... The look on Keith's face was wild with anger. Hunk blinked at him as Keith took long heavy strides toward the spaceship, towards them.

"Why are you bringing randos from the Garrison here?" Keith barked, narrowing his eyes at Lance. "And flying our ship into space! What is wrong with you?"

Lance straightened up from his casual slouch, taking full advantage of the few inches he had on Keith. "They aren't randos," he huffed, "they're friends. Keith," he gestured at them with an open hand, "these are Hunk, my roommate, and Pidge, man who was recently assigned to my Flight Sim group."

For some odd reason Pidge squirmed and winced at the word 'man'. Hunk pursed his lips, observing the kid, he supposed Pidge was still quite young... maybe he'd be more comfortable being called 'boy'?

Lance shrugged, eyes on Keith. "I was simply showing them around a real spaceship, not one of those shitty simulations."

"You were showing off."

"What's wrong with that?"

An exasperated groan left Keith's lips. "Oh nothing," he waved his arms about dramatically, "maybe if you keep flying her out into space, NASA will spot our top secret spaceship on their satellites, and we'll disappear mysteriously just like Shiro!"

Pidge's mouth fell open, he was about to say something but never got a chance before the sound of an engine drew everyone's attention. The group did a collective intake of breath when they saw the craft flying towards them in the sky.

"What... is that?" Hunk whispered.

Lance shook his head. "I don't know."

"If you don't know, why are you answering?" Keith shot back, voice dry and irritated.

"Could be NASA," said Lance.

Keith groaned. "Why NASA?"

"Well who else would it be?"

"Oh I don't know," Keith rolled his eyes at Lance, "the Garrison maybe?"

Lance sent Keith a dirty look. Keith glared back.

"It's coming right at us," Pidge said to no one in particular.

When Lance spoke next, his voice had turned to steel, deep and drained of all emotion. "Everyone get inside the ship, now."

They didn't argue. One by one, four boys climbed up the steps to the cockpit. Pidge first, Hunk second, Keith third, and Lance last; he stayed back for as long as he could, staring out the hatch door till it shut, watching the unidentified ship move near.

Pidge's voice raised to a gasping squeak. "Lance? They're accelerating, if they stay on course I reckon they'll crash into us within the next five minutes."

Lance grit his teeth, he moved toward the pilot seat but Keith was ahead of him. Keith snapped the seatbelt on just as Lance touched his shoulder.

"Keith, move your ass. Let me fly!"

Shrugging off the hand, Keith flicked a control panel. The engines growled a low resounding rumble. Keith placed his feet firmly on the pedals, and gripped the joysticks in shaky hands. Hunk watched him bite his lip. The enemy craft was real close.

"This is not the time to play hero!" Lance screamed into Keith's ear.

"Choke on your own advice," Keith muttered as he stared out the windshield, eyes locked on the incoming craft.

Hunk swallowed, his sweaty palms found the bar he'd held onto last ride, he winced and braced himself for impact. The craft got so close it took up the entire windshield. Then Keith hit gas. With a sudden burst of power their ship lurched to the side. Pidge was pressed into Lance, they both groaned.

"Pidge, you're sitting on my face."

"Well excuse you, I can't help it your super special spaceship has only one seat."

Lance and Pidge scrambled up off the floor. Everyone's eyes locked on the windshield. The other ship took a sharp turn and pursued them again.

Hunk blinked. "How do they do that? A craft that big shouldn't switch course so easy." The enemy ship looked at least twice their size.

"Beats me," Pidge whispered from beside him, staring at the craft in awe.

Keith flew their ship low, skimming the desert surface. As the enemy ship disappeared from view, Lance walked up to a panel and punched in some numbers. A smaller screen above the windshield flickered to life, showing their rear view: the other ship was still following.

Hunk choked on his next breath when a tiny little missile broke from the enemy ship. "Uh guys? Did you see that? I uhh I couldn't be the only one who saw that, right?"

"I'm on it," Keith growled. With a thrust of his leg he hit the pedal to the metal, sending them hurtling over the desert at breakneck speed.

Pidge and Lance were shoved against the back wall of the cockpit, out of reach of the controls. Hunk held onto the bar with all his might, wincing hard. Keith flew the craft in zig zags, but couldn't shake the missile that dutifully followed like a duckling.

Lance screamed: "you're going to get us killed!"

"Just," Keith breathed, knuckles turning white as he squeezed the life out of the joysticks, "trust me," he whimpered in a trembling voice that said he didn't trust himself.

Then Keith changed course and flew them directly at a wall. Lance crossed himself five times, Pidge shut his eyes, Hunk's jaw dropped, he watched the whole thing. Keith steered the ship into a cliff till they were just yards away, then pulled her up vertically into the sky.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Hunk repeated to himself as the missile collided with the cliff.

The rear view panel showed an explosion of flying boulders and dust. The missile had blown a whole cliff away. Hunk gulped, his tongue felt like wool in his mouth. The entire cliff was gone, gone.

"Okay that's definitely not the Garrison," said Hunk, "we don't have the technology."

Keith nodded, "don't look like NASA either..." he brought the ship to a steady coast above the clouds, taking advantage of the flying debris, but before he could fully shake them, the other craft broke through the clouds. Keith tsked.

Pidge walked over to the front of the cockpit, a deep frown on his forehead as he kept his eyes trained on the rear view screen, and gripped the back of the pilot seat. "Maybe it's the Russians."

"Let's see how high these bastards can go," with a grunt Keith piloted the ship into space.

They should have shaken the enemy when they passed the ozone layer, but... for some reason they didn't. The enemy ship followed them undeterred, past the point where normal aircrafts were supposed to fly.

"Uh... guys?" Hunk gulped, "whoever they are, they're in a spaceship."

Pidge's jaw dropped, "no way..."

Keith's eyes were wide open. Everyone stared at the rear view screen.

Lance leaned in close, one hand braced on the back of Keith's chair. "This might be a wild guess, but I'm getting the weird feeling that ship might be ...alien."

Alien? Hunk and Keith and Pidge all turned to look at Lance, whose eyes were glued to the enemy ship. The fear in Lance's eyes struck Hunk and shook him to the core. This wasn't a game nor a simulation, there was no second shot at this, no next try... Game over meant game over, he was stuck in a real life Space RPG and he only had one life.

Pidge's nervous voice broke through the depressing spiral Hunk's thoughts had taken: "maybe we can contact them? Tell them we're friendly," he moved about the cockpit, brushing his fingers over the walls. "This ship must have a communications device."

Hunk blinked at the boy. "Oh because space aliens from Mars certainly speak English."

"Worth a shot."

Lance shared a look with Hunk, then helped Pidge find the communications device. A new screen appeared to the windshield's right. The screen was a blank subdued purple, at first... then something, or rather someone came into view. Hunk silently slid behind Lance, and peeked over his shoulder.

One thing was obvious: whoever this was, they weren't human. A violet face peered back at them with narrowed yellow eyes. Hunk nearly wet himself. The... the 'person' had furry cat ears, purple sideburns and fangs, fucking fangs. The man wore some space suit without a helmet, and glared menacingly at them.

"We come in peace," said Lance.

The guy just stared at them. Lance was about to repeat himself when the alien opened his jaw, revealing a jagged set of teeth. "Give us the Red Lion," he mouthed in perfect English, with a slight American accent.

"Oh wow," Hunk whispered, "they do speak English."

Pidge frowned. "Red... lion? What do they mean?"

The alien resumed talking, and everyone inside the cockpit held still to listen. "You have stolen our ship. We want it back."

Keith threw his head back, shut his eyes and groaned. "I knew we shouldn't have taken the ship. I knew it."

The alien scowled at Keith.

"Wait," Lance shouted, drawing the alien's attention, "we didn't know it was yours, sorry! We just found it underground, in a cave. And then the whole cave exploded, and boarding the ship was the only way to survive."

Hunk stared at Lance... how long had this been going on? He was uncovering a whole new side to Lance. No wonder he talked about Keith so much, Hunk couldn't even begin to fathom everything they must've been through together.

"We didn't want to take your ship, honest. I swear on my Mom's life, we'll give it back to you. Will you stop attacking us when you get it back?"

"Yes."

Lance breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagged and his chest deflated. "Okay then," he said in a smaller voice, wobbling over his words, "we're landing the ship on Earth, getting out of it, and you can have it. Just... hold your fire, please."

"That is fine."

And just like that, communications closed: the purple backdrop fizzled out and the screen went black. It was silent in the cockpit as everyone seemed to be mulling over what just happened.

Lance gently touched Keith's shoulder and gave the order: "fly us back to your house."

Without hesitating Keith plunged the ship through the atmosphere. The alien ship followed them, keeping their distance. Like they said they would, the aliens didn't attack. Hunk breathed a little easier. They were getting out of this, out of this dumb crazy stupid insane adventure, he would sleep it all off in his dorm tonight and forget all about it. Aliens? Ha!

A thoughtful expression crossed Keith's face. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Lance rolled his eyes. "Since when do you ever listen to 'feelings'?" he air quoted.

"It's ...strange," Keith bit his lip, like he was weighing the pros and cons of sharing his thoughts. "This might sound crazy but I think the ship is ...talking to me? Think it's trying to tell me something."

Lance cut him off. "The spaceship is talking to you? No way!" he laughed, "Keith, it's a machine, not a sentient being."

Seconds later the cockpit shook violently. Hunk managed to grab the bar in time, Pidge held onto the pilot seat, Lance was not so lucky: he fell flat on his ass with a squeak.

"Hey!" Lance pointed at Keith, "you did that on purpose!" he winced and rubbed his tailbone.

"I didn't do a thing." Keith turned in the seat and held up his hands. "My hands aren't even holding the joysticks," he raised his legs in the air, "my feet aren't even touching the pedals."

Lance tried to get up. The cockpit went through a new shudder, knocking him back down.

"The spaceship did that," Hunk muttered to himself.

Everyone turned to look at Hunk, and as though in response, a low rumble like a purr spread through the cockpit. Hunk's heart did a flip flop.

"Did you just hear that?" Pidge asked him in a small voice.

"I think everyone heard it."

Lance gasped, "the ship ...is sentient?"

Keith's eyes were impossibly wide. Lance's jaw dropped to the floor. Pidge had a far off, dreamy expression on his face. All starry eyed, he babbled: "It's an AI, artificial intelligence! The first ever intelligent robot on Earth."

Hunk forced a smile to his lips and looked about the cockpit. "Uh, hi?" he said with a little wave of his hand.

The ship responded with a short, loud roar. Hunk felt it roll through him, the energy, the fire, the joy. This robot ship, whatever it was, was alive. A massive grin lit up Hunk's face, he was talking, communicating with an actual AI. He felt all giddy inside as a list of things to ask went through his head: what would you ask a robot, a robot that could think? Keith's raspy voice put an end to his frivolous thoughts and his excitement as they dragged him back to bleak reality:

"Guys, I think the ship is trying to tell me something... sounds like a warning."

Everyone looked at Keith.

"I'm getting the feeling she doesn't want to end up in the hands of those aliens. The ship is telling me not to land."

Hunk frowned. As much as he enjoyed talking to a sentient spaceship, he'd much rather be back in his dorm at the Garrison, where it was safe and warm. He wished he could cuddle up under the blankets with Mr. Snuggles and forget this day ever happened. Those aliens had given them a way out, and Hunk craved that Blue Pill like never before.

"We don't have a choice," Hunk said, drawing everyone's attention. "If we don't hand over the ship, we'll be fried alive."

Three grim faces stared back at him. Pidge nodded, pursing his lips. But Keith squared his shoulders, looked away from Hunk and ran his fingers over the control panels.

"I think this ship has some defence mechanism it wants me to activate."

Lance scrambled to his feet, "hold on, keep piloting, I'll find it."

Keith shot him a frown. "Do you even know where to look?"

"Ugh. Look, you're better at piloting, so just do that."

Keith smirked. "So I am a better pilot than you," he said coyly, "why didn't you just say so?"

Lance growled; before he could say a word, Keith pivoted the ship and sent her soaring into space. It took a while for the aliens to catch on, but when they did, they were back at it full force, chasing them relentlessly. Keith flew the ship in a myriad of turns, zig zagging her all the way through the atmosphere. The aliens followed, flying in loops, not at all bothered by Keith's erratic flight style. Hunk's breath caught in his throat when he saw the missile break free from the alien ship. Heart beating at a million miles an hour, this was it, they were toast.

"Lance," Pidge breathed, "any time now."

"Ahh, I think I've got it," came Lance's shaky voice in reply.

"You think?" Keith yelled into the cockpit that felt more and more suffocating, as though their oxygen was slowly being depleted, leaking away through a thousand little holes. "Less thinking, more doing!" Keith swerved the craft into another crazy turn.

And the missile turned with them. Pidge had tears in his eyes, Keith looked like a ghost, Lance's fingers were shaking as he grabbed a handle and pressed several buttons at once. Hunk thought of his middle school sweetheart one last time.

The explosion that followed shook the walls of the cockpit. Hunk barely held on to the bar, Pidge was thrown off his feet, colliding into a wall, Lance hit his head against Keith's knee. Moments passed in shocked silence, then Hunk blinked. They were still alive. Still alive! He looked for the missile on the rear view screen... it was nowhere to be found.

"I think you hit it," Pidge said cautiously, standing up and dusting his shorts.

Hunk had never seen a prouder smile on Lance's lips. "Heck yeah I did!" he pumped the air with his fist, then added in a quieter voice: "but what... was that?"

"Doesn't matter," said Keith, pointing at the rear view screen. "Look! They're doing something, and it does not look good."

Everyone refocused on the rear screen. Hunk's jaw dropped, the smile fell from Lance's face. Something small was glowing on the surface of the enemy ship. The little ball of pure energy slowly got larger and larger until it spread out from the ship and blasted their way.

"Laser beams..." Pidge whispered as he watched the bolt of energy get closer.

"Duck!" Lance screamed seconds before impact.

Hunk jumped to the floor, covering Pidge with his body. Keith lifted his feet off the pedals and rolled into fetal position. Lance ducked under the control panels. The whole cockpit shook and groaned. It sounded like the ship was in real physical pain. A deafening roar went through Hunk's bones, he grit his teeth, holding Pidge's hand in his sweaty ones. The lights flickered. Keith reached out to the joysticks, but the ship wouldn't respond to his steering.

Keith and Lance shared a look.

Lance nodded, and crawled out from under the controls. He grabbed hold of the handle, typed a series of commands into a panel, and turned the handle.

A flurry of lights appeared on the rear view screen. But these lights were heading the other way. From their place on the cockpit floor, Hunk and Pidge watched the laser beams crash into the aliens' force shield, leaving the ship unharmed...

"Uh Lance?" Pidge said, "Hate to state the obvious, but this isn't working."

"At least it'll hold them off for awhile. Keith? A little fancy flying would be great right about now."

They blasted off into the darkness of space, Keith jamming the gas pedal, Lance firing shot after shot at their pursuers. Still the alien ship remained in the rear view screen, growing ever so closer by the minute.

Hunk gasped, covering his mouth with a hand. "Bloody nachos, they're gaining on us. Keith, go faster!"

"I can't, already have this craft at full speed."

Without taking his eyes off target, Lance spoke under his breath: "Thought I saw an optional booster drive somewhere... could probably make it work with a new command sequence."

Pidge wrung his hands. "Then do it!"

"Can't operate the laser beam and type the command at the same time. That control panel is like on the opposite side of the cockpit. Keith is in the way!"

Keith narrowed his eyes at Lance.

"Then let me do it," Pidge said, walking up to the controls. "Which one is it?"

Lance blinked, looking at Pidge from the corner of his eye. "Umm, the one to your left, yeah, that one."

In no time at all, Pidge was all business, his glasses inches away from the touchscreen as he studied the weird letters there. "What do I type?"

"I think it's the weird infinity symbol, followed by a square, then a circle and then the hieroglyph resembling a dragonfly."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Pidge said, banging his fingers on the screen.

"I don't know," Lance shrugged, "I just do ...?"

The enemy craft was very close now, very close. Hunk gulped. "Eh guys, hurry up."

"Right!" Pidge pressed a button, the ship gave a loud roar, then, as everyone held their breath, the boosters engaged, doubling their speed. Just like that they blasted away from those aliens, deep into space, away from Earth, straight into an asteroid belt.

"Wow... it worked," Keith whispered in awe as he maneuvered the ship around giant space rocks.

Letting go of the laser beam, Lance leaned back on his elbows, tilted his head and smirked up at Keith. "Course it worked."

Pidge stared at him. "Your understanding of alien tech is seriously disturbing. Are you an alien?"

"What?" Lance blinked at Pidge, then vehemently shook his head. "No!"

Hunk sat down on the floor next to his friend. "But you knew the exact command sequence we needed... how?"

"I told you!" Lance winced, "it was just a hunch."

Keith stared out the windshield, joysticks firmly gripped in his hands. "Tsk. Wormhole up ahead."

Lance whipped his head to the windshield. "Wormhole?"

"Wormhole," Keith confirmed.

Hunk stared and stared at the portal before them. "Holy fish fingers on a stick... that's a wormhole..."

"It opened up right in front of us," Keith said, "moments ago."

Pidge scratched his skull. "For some reason... wormholes looked a lot cooler in my head."

Hunk tilted his head. "Same."

"What?" Lance squeaked, "it does have that nice psychedelic glow to it."

"Hmm..." Hunk rubbed his chin, "ok, when you put it that way."

Pidge lifted and dropped one shoulder. "I guess I can appreciate the aesthetic."

"Should we go through it?" said Keith.

They all shared looks.

"It could be a trap," Pidge said, "those aliens leading us into their territory... or a one way ticket into a very unstable part of space."

Hunk twiddled his thumbs. "But if we don't go through it, that alien ship is going to catch up to us, sooner or later, and they're not gonna be happy."

Pidge frowned back at Hunk, they got lost in a staring contest so Hunk hardly noticed when Keith spoke up again. "Lance, what do you think?"

Wide eyed, Lance gaped at Keith. "Me?"

"Well yeah," Keith sounded a little awkward when he said it, like he was embarrassed or something. "What do you think we should do?"

Lance took a deep steadying breath. A decisive frown crumpled his face, his voice had a cold finality to it. "Keith, take us through that wormhole."

Pidge broke eye contact with Hunk to glare defiantly up at Lance. "But what if it's a trap?"

"Then we'll deal with it later. Hunk is right, if we stay here we'll be dead meat. There's no way to tell what's on the other end of that wormhole, but we'll have to take the risk."

Pidge nodded reluctantly.

"Ok, I'm going in." Keith steered them toward the wormhole.

"Hold on tight," Lance said through grit teeth.

Pidge, Lance and Hunk grabbed the pilot seat and hoped for the best.