Author's Note: Voltron and all its constituents belongs to World Events Productions originally. The Stellar Ship Defender and Captain Jennifer Owens belong to WarzonePrez. All other original characters belong to me.
I've gotten older, we've all gotten older. Please enjoy this more mature version of Vehicle Voltron. Even if you're only a Lion Voltron fan, try this one out for size; you'll still see your friends on Arus.
Chapter One.
If there was one thing Admiral Jeffrey Manabu Dukane Aki loathed in the entire universe, it was the High Command. In all his fifty-three years of life, he never witnessed such mayhem and debauchery within Galaxy Garrison as he did whenever he was present at their Roundtable Discussions. Today's meeting was no different.
Well, mayhem and debauchery sans alcohol, anyway… and with clothes, he noted with a hint of sarcasm.
Luckily, Vice Marshall Jonathan Hawkins, his former—and even now, current—commanding officer sat at the table as well, full of impatience towards these men and women who were so obviously wasting their time. He caught Jeff's eye, and the two grinned as though sharing a private joke. It made the situation tolerable. Barely.
"In conclusion," Warrant Officer Castonguey brought her point home, "putting the Stellar Ship Defender back into orbit is a waste of taxpayer dollars. We already know what's in the universe, Space Marshall. We have friends and allies. We have enemies, yes, but at least we know who they are."
The Space Marshall's countenance remained unchanged. "I understand your position, Warrant Officer Castonguey, as I too am loathe to waste taxpayer dollars. However, from what I've learned from my contacts around the Near, Middle, and Far Universes, the threats from our enemies have increased. Even Admiral Kogane on Planet Arus in the Far Universe has trained a new team of space explorers to pilot Lion Voltron." She closed her eyes as if pained by this fact. "Many years ago, the mission of the Stellar Ship Explorer and the Voltron Vehicle Force was to find new, livable worlds for our overcrowded planets. I see no harm in changing the Defender's mission to orbital protection."
Jeff's hair stood on end as those words flowed out of her mouth. Lion Voltron. Stellar Ship Explorer. Voltron Vehicle Force. Memories, both good and bad, flooded his mind. If nothing else, he would always be a commanding officer of Vehicle Voltron. Always. Until his dying day.
He saw that the Vice Marshall agreed.
"I propose," the Space Marshall continued, "that the Stellar Ship Defender launch into orbit to protect Earth and its surrounding planets. Just because there has been no immediate threat to us, it does not mean that the threat is not there." She glanced fleetingly in Jeff's direction. "I would strongly recommend that Vehicle Voltron's previous pilots be notified of their impending posts. Provided they wish to resume their posts, of course."
The Vice Marshall stood. "We will take a vote. All those in favor, say Aye."
The Ayes were definitely in the majority. And Jeff's "Aye" was perhaps the loudest.
"All opposed?"
There were a few Nays to be heard, but nowhere near the amount heard for the Ayes.
"Then the Ayes have it," Vice Marshall Hawkins concluded. "The Stellar Ship Defender will return to orbit."
There was some applause from around the table… and one very audible groan.
The Space Marshall fixed her gaze on the source of the immaturity. When Castonguey refused to back down, she narrowed her chocolate gaze. "May I remind you, Warrant Officer," she reprimanded, "that we do not tolerate insubordination at the Roundtable. There is no place for disrespect within High Command. You will abide by the rules or you will be dismissed. Have I made myself clear?"
"Crystal," Castonguey mumbled.
"Very well." The Space Marshall stood and gathered her micro-computer and ionic notepad. "I order this Roundtable Meeting to a close."
Those gathered at the Roundtable stood respectfully as she and the Vice Marshall exited the room. As she passed Jeff, she tapped him on the shoulder. "Meet me in my office, Admiral."
A shudder of excitement flew up Jeff's spine. "As you wish, Space Marshall."
Once she and the Vice Marshall had exited the room, the remainder of High Command followed suit. There were some stragglers, Warrant Officer Castonguey in particular, but Jeff paid them no mind. He was on his way to the Space Marshall's office. This time, for once, it would be under the best possible circumstances.
Crik Miranda Keats had not stepped foot on Earth soil for what seemed like a very, very long time. He recounted his last few weeks at the Galaxy Garrison, back when President Graydon Vanderleigh had nearly driven the United States to its breaking point. Once that madman had cut off military funding—and therefore all funding towards the Garrison and the Galaxy Alliance—he renounced his role of Captain (though, conveniently, not his title) and headed on the first interstellar shuttle back home. Though Planet Mira and its twin, Hydra, maintained their interplanetary alliance with Earth and Sala, Crik felt nothing but bitterness towards all of it.
Ironically, as soon as he arrived home, he was tracked down by Garrison agents. During his entire career aboard the Stellar Ship Explorer, and then the Defender, Galaxy Garrison had established a base on Mira that was filled with Mirans and Hydrans just like him who served the Galaxy Alliance. And now that he was home, they desperately wanted him to join their ranks.
Seated at his high-tech computer desk, he was the first to receive the breaking news, straight from the High Command's Roundtable Meeting. Galaxy Garrison to Re-Instate Stellar Ship Defender and Vehicle Voltron.
He blinked. If Vehicle Voltron and the Defender were going back into orbit, he would be there. It was time to dust off his boots, fly back to Earth, and take command of the Sea Team.
No one had contacted him yet, but he knew more than he let on. His sixth sense told him that he would be pressed into service once more. The difference was that this time he would be serving without hesitation, fully aware of what he was walking into.
Captain of Vehicle Voltron's Sea Team would be the last post he would ever take. He would retire from the Stellar Ship Defender. He would make sure of it.
Captain Jennifer Owens surfaced from beneath the water, her hair slicked behind her like a mermaid. This was what I needed, she thought as she opened her eyes to the dim lighting in the spa. This retreat was the best idea I've had in a long time.
Jen had certainly had her share of ups and down, of romances and their inevitable accompanying disappointments. Her most recent—and most devastating—heartbreak was of President Vanderleigh shooting down the Stellar Ship Defender, ripping apart the Vehicle Team and tearing her away from her post as Captain of the Air Team. It wasn't a romantic heartbreak, no, but it devastated her even more than any relationship ever could.
"Captain Owens, may I bring you a drink?"
Lying completely nude in her own private pool, Jen looked up towards the voice. "Yes, please. A prosecco, if you would be so kind."
"Right away, Captain Owens."
Captain Owens. The title hurt more than it should. It was a reminder of failure; that she had achieved her goal of piloting the Jet Command Explorer and heading Vehicle Voltron, only to have it ripped away by a power-mad and fraudulently-elected president. She had not been the one to fail. Her beloved country had failed her.
And if she was still taking it so badly, she wondered how the Space Marshall and Vice Marshall had coped during that time period. Even though Vanderleigh was behind bars now (But in a federal prison, not in the Void where he belongs, she thought bitterly), Galaxy Garrison was still dealing with the fallout from those years. The rest of the country was still putting the pieces back together, too.
No wonder she was still so messed up. No wonder this spa retreat was the best idea she'd had in a long time.
"Your beverage, Captain Owens."
Jen sat up straight in the hot tub as she accepted her drink from the staff member. "Thank you." As she sipped from her glass of prosecco, she leaned back and allowed the jets to hit her body at full steam. Yes, this was exactly what she needed. And what she deserved.
"Captain Owens?"
She held her glass up. "The prosecco is delicious, thank you."
The staff member crouched down. "I'm glad to hear it, but that's not what this is about." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "There's breaking news out of Galaxy Garrison that the Stellar Ship Defender is to be reinstated. I thought you'd like to know."
"Damn straight." Jen knocked back the remnants of her prosecco in a single gulp and placed the empty glass by the side of the hot tub. "My robe, if you'd please."
"Certainly." She retrieved the robe from the side of the tub and wrapped it around the captain's naked form. Jen stepped out, dripping wet, and slid into her spa shoes.
"Thank you for everything," she shouted to the entirety of the spa staff as she headed towards her room. She had to get dressed and check out immediately. Her career—no, her entire future—was at stake.
With every nerve in his body on fire, Jeff knocked on the door to the Space Marshall's office. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous—after all, he was all but guaranteed his position as the head of the Stellar Ship Defender. His anxiety was probably due to their long intertwined history within Galaxy Garrison. They'd already been through something similar, many years earlier, with Sky Marshall Wade. Living through it a second time felt like running an ultramarathon through hell.
At least when Wade was in charge, their country stood untouched. When Graydon Vanderleigh took the reins of the United States, it didn't matter that Lenora Stensson Hawkins sat in control of Galaxy Garrison. Perhaps it was because of the fact that she'd had her position usurped once already; she was not about to let a fraudulently-elected president demolish everything she'd built. She and her husband fought him and his faux administration tooth and nail, holding the line and allying themselves with patriots until the traitor was behind bars. It had taken years and came at great cost, but it had all been worth it in the end.
"Come in, Jeff," he heard through the door.
He placed his palm over the lock reader. On recognition, the lock clicked back and the door slid open. One of the many changes made after Wade shot her* all those years ago, he thought grimly. "I'm here, Len." He looked over at the Vice Marshall mischievously. "Commander."
"Jeff, when are you going to realize that you can call me Jon?" Hawkins asked him, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You don't need to call me Commander. That's not my title, anyway."
"With all due respect, you'll never be Jon or Vice Marshall Hawkins to me. Only Commander Hawkins."
The Vice Marshall sighed with mock exasperation. "Just sit down, Jeff."
He sat across the desk from the Space Marshall. "And you never need to stand on protocol with me, Jeff," she reminded him without looking up from whatever she was clicking away at on her computer keypad. "We've known each other since we were kids."
"Thanks, Len."
Hawkins coughed. "I suppose you know why you're here, Jeff?"
"Of course," the Admiral answered. "The S.S. Defender is going back into orbit. It may have a new mission, but it's still going back into orbit. And you'll need me at the helm."
"Arrogant, but correct," Hawkins chided jokingly. "Who better to put at the helm of the Defender and Vehicle Voltron than Admiral Aki?"
"I can't think of anyone better," Jeff deadpanned.
"With my son by your side, of course."
Jeff and the Space Marshall both stared at him in surprise, eyes and mouths wide. "My son?" she nearly screeched. "You want to put my son on the command deck of the Defender? As-tu perdu la tête?"
"I don't speak French, but that didn't sound promising," Jeff quipped.
The Vice Marshall did not falter. "The Stellar Ship Explorer had a Commander Hawkins. The Stellar Ship Defender should have one as well."
"Jacob is eighteen," she seethed. "He is halfway through his education at the Academy. He is in no way a Commander, mon cœur. He is a cadet."
"I thought you said you would defer to me in all things related to Vehicle Voltron."
"Not when you involve my son without telling me first!" she countered.
"Um… I feel like I should head out now," Jeff interrupted.
"No. I want both of you to hear me out." Hawkins leaned over his wife's desk and supported his torso on both palms. Even nearing retirement age, the man commanded authority. "Jeff, no one knows better than I do how hot-headed you can be. Jacob is an even keel, exceedingly temperate. You'll need him to balance you out."
"I have Crik and Cliff—"
"If I know Crik and Cliff—and I do—they will be resuming their posts as Captains of the Sea Team and the Land Team, respectively. Trust me, they are not going to keep your temper in check. Worse, you outrank both of them, but neither will forget when you were all ranked equally, or the camaraderie you shared when you were. The clashes will be unbalanced." The Vice Marshall shook his head. "You need my son there."
"Nepotism aside," Jeff asked, "why Jake? Because I'm his godfather? Because his mom is the Space Marshall and she won't kick him out for insubordination?"
That comment earned him a glare from his old friend.
"The Stellar Ship Defender is in his blood," Hawkins reminded him. "Don't forget, the Defender was constructed off the original blueprint for the Explorer… which, if you remember correctly, my uncle drew up. If anyone has the right to be on the command deck of that ship, it's him. It's his birthright."
Jeff threw up both his hands. "I won't argue with you, Commander." He eyed the Space Marshall suspiciously. "I'll let her argue with you."
He saw that she didn't disagree with him.
"So it's settled, then." He didn't entirely believe it. "The Defender is officially going back into orbit. I am in charge of both the ship and Vehicle Voltron. Jen, Cliff, and Crik will continue on as Captains of the Air, Land, and Sea Teams. And Jake will be on the command deck with me."
Though the Space Marshall seemed irked, both she and her husband nodded in agreement.
"Good. I trust that you two will get the rest of the Voltron Force sorted out? After all, I have no idea who wants to stay on. Or who we'll need to replace." Jeff shrugged. "Or who will want to come out of retirement."
"I have an idea already," Hawkins assured him. "But be prepared, Jeff. Stay vigilant. The Defender could go into orbit in as little as two weeks."
"I hope it does." He stood and saluted. "I'm off to get ready. I hope you two will do the same."
"Get out of here, Jeff," the Space Marshall waved him away.
He was only too happy to leave her office. After all, if her son would be joining him on the Defender—to her surprise and at her own husband's request—he didn't want to stick around for the aftermath of that blowout.
Besides, he needed to get ahold of some of his old comrades and make sure they were all on the same page regarding the Defender's relaunch.
"Babe! That wave was sick!"
With a laugh, Cliff slicked his saltwater-wet hair back and looked in the direction of the voice. His wife Justine was as beautiful as their surroundings. Bondi Beach, though a respectable distance from his family's farm in Melbourne, was just far—and lovely—enough to feel like a vacation destination. "Did you see where my board went, Juicy?"
"Damned if I know." Clad in a strapless one-piece bathing suit, she swam out to meet him and locked her arms around his neck. "I hope you can get a refund."
"Well, if I don't return it to the rental, I'll most definitely be hit with a loss fee. One which will make buying ten new surfboards seem like a bargain."
"Then let's get looking."
Cliff spotted the surfboard a few dozen feet away and swam frantically towards it. As soon as he climbed on, he was ambushed by another wave. "Blast it!" he shouted, clinging to the board for dear life. "I'm not as good at surfing as I used to be."
Justine swam over to him and grabbed the side of the board. "Maybe it's time to pack it in, Captain."
"It's probably for the best. I'm not as young as I used to be."
Treading water, they dragged the board through the current and onto the shore. Cliff turned around once more to gaze at the glorious blue water. Though he and his wife had returned to his family's farm in Melbourne once the Stellar Ship Defender—the place that they called home—had been shot out of the skies on the order of President Vanderleigh, he couldn't say that Australia held his heart. He loved it, it was beautiful, and he was happy to be there, yes. But he would always be happier in orbit than on solid ground.
"Bondi is gorgeous, Babe. I can see why people describe it as magical." Dripping, Justine wrapped her arms around his shoulder and planted a kiss there. "But I can also see why you'd rather be in outer space."
"That's why I married you, Love. You always understood me better than anyone else ever did."
They remained locked in that embrace, both of them staring at the beach and the sunset, fully content. Blissful, even. Cliff was wholly grateful for the moment, his health, his home country, his family, and his wife. The only thing missing from the picture was Voltron.
"Come on, Love. Let's go return the surfboard."
"After you."
The rental shack was older than dirt but updated with the latest retail technology. As he returned the board, his watch went off.
"No matter how many times I remind myself, I always think it's my VoltComm whenever I get a call," he told his wife.
"You answer it. I'll take care of the board."
"You're the best, Juicy."
He walked away from the shack and clicked on his watch to answer the call. "Clifford Jack."
"Have you heard the news?"
The voice on the other end caught him off-guard. "Hardly."
"Have you been living under a rock?"
He assessed his surroundings. "No, I'm at Bondi Beach, mate."
"Well, get ready to move your bum off the beach, Jack. We're going back into orbit."
If the watch hadn't already been secured around his wrist, he would have dropped it. "Jeffrey, are you serious?" he screeched. "The Defender is back in commission?"
"As of this afternoon, we've officially gotten the green light."
"That's amazing!" His next question was more to the point. "Is Vehicle Voltron going back into orbit with it?"
"Duh."
"Are we going back into orbit with it?"
Jeff laughed. "I've already heard from Crik and Jen. They are fully onboard—in every sense of that statement. Len and the Commander are working to flesh out the rest of the Vehicle Team and the Command Deck. So long as you and Justine want to resume your posts, you're both back in." He paused. "Oh, and Jake is coming with us."
"Yikes."
"Yeah. I can't imagine which one of David Rackens' seven hells the Commander is going to catch for that."
"Will he be piloting a rugger?"
"No, he'll be with me on the Command Deck."
Cliff grinned. "Poor bloke."
"Hey!" Jeff squealed. "I resemble that comment."
"You sure do. It's a good thing Jake will be there. You need someone to keep your arse in line." He paused, allowing the full extent of the situation to sink in. He and Justine would be back in orbit the way they were always meant to. Which meant that they had to return to the States and Galaxy Garrison. Now. "How much time do we have to get back to New York, mate?"
"As soon as you can, mate."
"Got it. We'll go to the Garrison Embassy in Sydney and pick up a shuttle from there. We're already at Bondi, we can get on within the hour."
"Don't you think you'd better say goodbye to your family first?"
Damn it. Jeff had him there. Cliff couldn't go back into space without saying goodbye to his aging parents, his siblings, and his nieces and nephews. "You're right. I'll have to go back to Melbourne first."
"I'll see you in a few days."
"You'd better believe it, mate."
He ended the call and walked back to the rental hut in shock. He might have just had the surprise of his life, but he couldn't have been more excited about it. He couldn't wait to tell Justine about how their world had just been disrupted.
But in the best possible way.
Once the doors to the office had been barred, angry French words flew around the office. "You had this planned in advance, did you not?" the Space Marshall accused her husband. "When were you going to tell me that you wanted to place Jacob on the Command Deck of the Defender?"
Vice Marshall Hawkins knew this was coming. He'd been preparing for this exact confrontation ever since he decided that their son should stand at Jeff's side… which, to be fair, was the goal that he silently strove for during Vanderleigh's fraudulent presidency. "When I knew for certain that the Defender would go back into orbit, mon ange."
"And that was this afternoon." She glared at him. "You had better come up with a better answer than that."
"Fine." He crossed his arms over his chest. "It was the one idea—the only idea—that kept me going when we were fighting against Vanderleigh. This was what I fought for, the goal I strove for. I wanted the Defender back in orbit, yes. But I also wanted Jacob on the Command Deck. No other ship will do. It has to be the Defender."
Immediately, her expression softened. "You never told me."
"No."
Standing, she wrapped her arms around her husband. "Mon cœur, I wish you had said something. I would have understood better. But…" Her voice broke. "Ever since Lulu left, I am loathe to lose another child to Voltron. I am not entirely happy with this situation."
"I know."
"But I understand."
He lifted her face to his and kissed her. Breaking out of French, he told her, "That's why I love you, Nora. You always understand and you never hold it against me… even when you should."
"I should, but I don't." She kissed him back. "Now, I know I defer to you in all things related to Vehicle Voltron, but as your punishment, I am going to draft the Defender's reinstallation orders while you pick up Charlotte and bring her home."
He shrugged. "That seems fair."
"I'm glad you agree. I'll see you at home."
"I love you, mon ange. I'll see you when you return."
"Je t'aime aussi."
Once he walked out of the office, the Space Marshall put her reading glasses on and waited for her computer to rise out of her desk. An intensely enormous machine lifted from the desktop, and she keyed in the master passcode—BaisereiffeL—to access the data contained within. Though she never claimed to be the master of the Explorer, the Defender, or Vehicle Voltron, she was about the draft up the papers to send them back into orbit.
She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. After so many years of fighting, so many years as the Space Marshall, she had so few words left. Sending the Defender back into orbit was necessary, but it also came at a great price to her. She wondered what wrongs she had done in her past lives that warranted the loss of her children to the Voltron Forces.
Yes, she knew she should be proud. Her twins were (or were about to be) practically anointed as the Saviors of the Universe. But as their mother, how could she find it in her to celebrate when all she wanted was to have them close? They were eighteen. Too young to be adults, yet that was what they were. And they'd made decisions—or had them made for them—to catapult them into their future. But they would always be her babies, no matter how old they were, so it hurt to have them so far away.
For the good of the galaxy. Channeling her old mentor and her true predecessor, Matthias Graham, the Space Marshall began to type up the new orders for the Stellar Ship Defender from memory. It didn't matter that she lost two of her children to the cause. In the end, the cause—the Alliance—was what was important. And if it meant that her twins were taken away from her, well, so be it.
"I miss you, Matthias." She filled in the paragraphs as though they had been committed to memory. Which, in a way, they were. "But I will miss my Jake and my Lulu even more."
Once finished, she read over her first draft to correct any mistakes. There were only a few typos, perhaps an extra space somewhere in between two words. Her eyes filling with tears, she hit the SEND button to announce to the universe that the Stellar Ship Defender was officially going back into orbit. Then she gathered her belongings and left her office before the computer had retreated back into its hiding place.
She wiped her eyes and made sure the door slid closed and locked behind her. The Space Marshall had one weak spot—her children—but she would be damned if anyone saw her cry today.
*See Chapter 15 of "Voltron Legacy - Season 5" by WarzonePrez for more details.
As-tu perdu la tête?: Have you lost your mind?