Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Look, Katie’s amazing. Matt had always known that about his sister, from just about the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, but even he hadn’t expected… this. It had set in slowly, like a creeping fog, but he’d come to accept- even after Te-osh had helped rescue him- that he may never see his family again. Because no matter how amazing Katie (or mom) were, they had no way of knowing what happened to him. The universe is pretty big, too. Searching for one particular person without a direct method of communication was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Not that he was giving up on his dad- that plainly wasn’t an option. But, unless the Galra Empire could suddenly vanish, and his dad’s location could magically make itself known to him, it didn’t seem very likely that any of them would ever reunite, no matter how much that thought ripped his heart into pieces.

(What were they saying, on Earth? What did they think happened to him? What were mom and Katie told? His stomach swooped, and he forced his mind away from that black hole.)

Turns out, however, that even Matt’s mile-wide faith in his sister wasn’t as much as she deserved, because suddenly there she was, in definitely-not-from-Earth armor, talking about how she never gave up on, and for a moment everything was all right again. All those moments where he’d thought about his family and his whole being slowed to a stop, where grief suffocated everything else, erased by the euphoria of just seeing Katie, his dear baby sister.

That feeling didn’t really go away, either, every moment undercut by the presence of his sister, or the knowledge that she was only a call away. Especially when he took into account that his sister wasn’t just a scrappy girl from Earth doing her best in outer space, but a Voltron paladin- holy shit, by the way- dedicating herself to liberating the whole universe. Pride marched in him at the very thought. Even if neither of them had yet to come across their dad, and mom was all alone on Earth, reuniting with Katie was more than enough for the moment. 

(“My sister’s the best,” Matt declared with a goofy smile one night, apropos of nothing. His temporary roommate gave him a side-eye.)

Look, bragging about your little sister’s achievements, and cheering her on every step of the way, was the second most important aspect of being a big brother- the first being ruthlessly making fun of her. So, when Katie- or Pidge now, to his endless amusement- mentioned the touring Voltron Show during a call only a few movements after his return to the rebels. 

“You guys’re doing shows?” He asked, equal parts amused and intrigued. “What, air shows or something?” 

“No,” Pidge huffed. “That sort of thing’s normal. Coran’s gotten some… eccentric ideas. I don’t know. He’s being weird. But the first one under his new style went well, I guess.” Matt felt his eyebrows raise. 

“Where’s the next one?” He asked, pulling up another screen. “Maybe I’ll try and watch you guys.”

“Do not,” his sister whined. “We’re in a totally different galaxy, anyway. You won’t have any opportunity to swing by.” 

“Sure,” Matt agreed amicably, feeling the two most important aspects of siblinghood align. No way in hell.

Unfortunately, Matt didn’t manage to catch that particular show, too overwhelmed by intergalactic chatter about Voltron to find the specific date and location in time. Admittedly, though, it was too far out of his way for a physical viewing… hence why it was time to take things digital. 

He’d made out a few clips filmed by enthusiastic viewers, but there was no official broadcast of the production. That wasn’t too difficult to work around for a technological genius like Matthew Holt, however, especially now that he’d narrowed in on talk of the Voltron Show. As soon as a new venue was announced, it was only a matter of hacking into the security cameras and enjoying that sweet, sweet, 168K video. (Seriously, Earth was behind on so many things.)  

Oh. 

Never mind.

They announced an official broadcast. It only extended as far as the galaxy, but it’d still likely be better than anything he could scrounge up on security cameras… well, it’d take some configuring, but even a plaxum weezler would be harder to work with. And then there’d sit the perfect blackmail material, right in the palms of his hands. 

Sufficiently distracted, Matt turned away from his pet project to focus on some absurdly futuristic hacking. See, reuniting with Pidge had brought some old ideas to the front of the freedom fighter’s mind, alongside buckets of hope he’d previously been without. The idea of configuring his tech to be able to contact Earth was one that had floated though his mind before, but been summarily dismissed. After all, it’d be tricky to figure out how to make rebel tech, piecemeal though it was, line up with Earth’s far less advanced, and independently developed, systems. Even then, what could he do with that? Call his mom? The chances that she’d even believe it was him were dodgy, not to mention the cruelty that came with that sort of thing. ‘Hey mom, Katie, sorry for leaving you behind- wasn’t on purpose- but I’m calling to let you know I’m going to continue doing that. Also I have no idea where dad is, or if he’s still alive.’ Talk about asshole behavior. 

So, yeah, that idea had faded to the wayside. But upon reuniting with Pidge, he’d considered it once more. Maybe he couldn’t physically go to Earth, but there was still a lot he could do from far away- if he could convince people it was him. (That was still a toss-up.) Because for all he’d thought of Earth as separate and untouchable in this endlessly long conflict, that wasn’t really true. Well, it was partially true, but only for now. There was nothing stopping the Galra from targeting their little planet, and what would they be able to do about it? Matt couldn’t let his mom get hurt, or any of the friends he’d made at the Garrison. So, contacting Earth and getting them in the loop was probably a good idea.

He’d made decent progress on the whole thing, too, having figured out how to connect his tech to the network of satellites circling the goldilocks planet. It was just a matter of managing to target a specific satellite- a bit finicky, considering the distance- and then the right channel, so that his message only reached those who needed to hear it. 

He’d considered floating the idea past Pidge, in search of insights she might have on his process, but- nah. She had enough on her plate already, no need for him to get her in on a plan that fell way lower in importance than the sorts of things she got up to every day. He’d tell her when he finally got it to work, so Voltron could help workshop what sorts of things he shared. But no earlier. 

Flicking away the Earth-focused screen, Matt’s eyes settled firmly on the one depicting the Voltron Show. Though the footage focused primarily on the paladins, parts of a positively ginormous stadium were visible in the background, the faintest outlines of an alien menagerie just able to be made out in the footage. Momentarily, his eyes flicked back to the screen with Earth. What would mom and dad think, knowing Katie was not only performing, but in front of so many people? No way they’d believe it. 

Of course, Matt was wise enough to begin recording his screen as soon as possible, the knowledge that he’d have plenty of time to make fun of his sister allowing him to watch it this first time with pride. It might not be Pidge’s usual ballpark, but watching her put on a show still filled his heart with warmth. Shit, he really didn’t give her enough credit, did he? 

He’d been zooming in on his sister as she pulled a particular move against a fake sentry, curious about the form, when it happened. A slight twitch of his fingers, similar to a flick though barely any movement, but enough to send the broadcast- already ready to be manipulated due to his pinching of the screen- careening into the monitor to his left, right towards the- uh.

The screen primed to connect to all of Earth’s satellites. 

Matt’s stomach dropped as the visual lit up green, showing a positive connection to Earth’s network, confirming that he had, in fact, begun streaming the Voltron Show to just about every screen on his home planet. He quickly yanked it over to be his main screen, scrambling away at the holographic keyboard to fix his fatal mistake. It wasn’t a difficult procedure for a genius like him, barely taking a couple dobashes, but it was long enough for the paladins to switch to forming Voltron, unaware that their entire planet and every human they’d ever met or known were unwilling witnesses. Holy shit, dude.

The moment he was sure it had disconnected, Matt slumped back in his chair, the picture of despair. Maybe it was a fluke, and the thing only seemed to connect from his end, but didn’t actually do anything on Earth? Maybe he was actually hallucinating this whole time. Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah…

Unfortunately, delusions about hallucinations wouldn’t fix the biggest mistake of young Matthew Holt’s life, brought forth by his own misfortune. His hands trembled, as he thought about the potential repercussions for this- of what Pidge, or their mom would think, of what Earth was doing- as he sat there feeling miserable. 

Sighing, Matt sat up and stretched out his arms. There was no way to undo what he’d done, but he could at least try and figure out the extent of the damage- and perhaps mitigate it- before time came to fess up.. He hadn’t managed to crack the internet yet with his tech, but maybe he just hadn’t had the right motivation. Fingers hovering over the keyboard, he prepared for the bloodiest battle of his entire career.

—

The feeling of losing a sibling was something Veronica didn’t think she’d ever be able to put into words. In some sense, she’d known it would happen, had joked with Raquel about the stunts they’d pull at each other’s funerals, depending on who lived the longest. But in the sort of abstract sense, where the reality of death had yet to make its mark, poisoning fields and killing flowers. It was meant to be when they were all old and gray, too old to relish holding onto more years. 

It wasn’t meant to come with a phone call, and it wasn’t meant to be about her younger brother- not before he was at least eighty. She’d been the one to pick up, having forced her parents on a no-exceptions holiday only a few days before, teaming up with Luis and Marco to take care of the farm in their absence. The two older siblings hadn’t been home at the time, Luis and Lisa having taken their young children out for a few hours, and Marco venturing onto his university’s campus for a meeting with his PhD supervisor. Raquel, though also living at home, had been in the middle of attending high school- she’d gotten her license recently, so Veronica didn’t have to worry about giving her a ride. 

So it’d just been her, Veronica, all alone, as a bland voice relayed the details of Lance’s death to her, with all the emotion of a math teacher giving a lecture. She didn’t really hear the details- sneaking out, meteor crash, dead dead dead- all of it turning into ringing as soon as she heard the subject. 

She didn’t really care about the way the Garrison official’s tone grew uncomfortable when she started ugly crying- they could deal with it. Her brother died.

No matter how many times she said that, whether it was when she told her family- pulling Raquel out of school early, Marco rushing back and asking why she’d sent an SOS text, when Luis wandered in with an easy smile and asked why everyone had been blowing up his phone, or when her parents got back from their holiday, thrown off by the devastation on their children’s faces- at the funeral, or whenever one of her colleagues asked why she was so sad all of a sudden, it never got more real. No matter what, her brain never seemed to process the statement, always thinking of stories Lance would love to learn of, or what he’d say in response to various remarks, if only he’d had the opportunity to hear them. She’d buy clothes he’d like without even thinking about it, only realizing when she got home that he’d never have the opportunity to try them on.

It didn’t really hit until Thanksgiving break came, a few months later. When she kept feeling like something was off, kept putting out an extra plate or chair- that one made everyone cry, good going Ronnie- kept glancing at the door, waiting for that final face to turn up.

When Raquel was going back to school again, and he still didn’t show, that sentence finally turned into reality. Lance was gone, and he was never coming back. Would never demand she help him pick out good nail polish, would never gossip with her or be overly judgy about her fashion sense, would never just be there, right in front of her, ever again. 

Veronica had been against Lance attending the Garrison from the very start. Not enough to say something, not when his face would light up at the mere thought, but she’d had an uneasy sense about it. Something connected to the evasive wording of their adverts, or the slimy feeling their officials gave her. Unless she found anything concrete- she didn’t, by the way- however, she couldn’t crush his dream like that. Not on a feeling.

But if she had, he’d still be with them. 

The farm might have been where Veronica had grown up, ever since they’d permanently left Cuba, but it wasn’t her place of residence. She’d moved out for university, and had been living in the city ever since. Her stay was only temporary, lasting for the length of her parents’ trip. She’d have stayed longer, given the news, but- well, duty calls, and her work weren’t the most lenient when it came to bereavement. Once it set in, however, she didn’t realize she’d quit until she was leaving her boss’ office. The blur continued, as she told her landlord she was moving out soon, all the way until she was knocking on her parents’ door, apologizing for the short notice. They welcomed her with warmth regardless, though it was tinted by sadness. 

Of course it was. Everything they did was tinted with sadness these days. 

She picked up an online position not too long afterward, and distracted herself the rest of the time with farm work and trying to act as normal as she could, considering the circumstances. They all held each other a little closer, nowadays. Even Luis, who’d long struck out on his own, seemed to bring his family over far more often than was reasonable, considering the drive. 

But they were the McClain Family, and down a member or no, they made it work. 

Lance didn’t disappear from their lives, even as months passed and seasons changed. Mamá put up all his best photos on the mantle, and they all left little offerings in front of it whenever they could. Veronica left the occasional trinket she’d come across, which stood out as something just so Lance. She might not be able to give him them, but it made that voice in the back of her head a little quieter. As Veronica had accidentally started, there was always a chair left open for him, a gap where they would’ve said his name or remarked on his potential reaction to things (and then, later, that name returning to the conversation), the fact that their parents always continued to claim to have five children, not four. Lance may no longer have been with them, but he would always be theirs. 

The Garretts often stopped by, as well. The two families had long been familiar with each other, due to the friendship between their now lost children, though not particularly close. Veronica could name Hunk, though not his relatives- she’d recognize his parents on sight, however. That quickly changed, when they began to stop by as often as they could, just to talk about the people they had lost. Little memories that meant everything, aspirations they wished their late members could have had the opportunity to fulfill, and the deep, despairing sadness you tucked away from people who didn’t understand. In some senses, Veronica grew to consider the Garretts an extension of her family, rather than just close friends. 

Mamá had tried to make contact with Pidge Gunderson’s family, but had never managed to track them down. However, the third life lost too soon also featured in their memorials, even if no one present had gotten to know the boy.

It had been approaching the one-year anniversary when they most recently got together, both families armed with videos of their children’s milestones, to reminisce and laugh in understanding company, wrapped up in as many blankets and pillows as they could handle in the heat. (To be fair, for Cubans and Samoans, it was certainly more than most.) In the middle of their nostalgia-fest, the screen began to flicker. Papá swore, getting up to fiddle with the thing, muttering words that made mamá tut at him. Before he could reach its projection box, however, the video was overlaid by entirely different footage, prompting a round of exclamations from the audience. 

Veronica blinked rapidly at the sudden shift, perplexion overtaking her. Not only was the whole situation bizarre, but the same could be said about the footage she was actually looking at. Five figures in white and black armor with different accents, their faces obscured by helmets, fighting… something… dramatically, before being replaced with a massive robot? The whole thing was overlaid by incomprehensible sounds which could only be presumed to be words. Talk about weird. It was gone before she could even begin to understand what she saw, and they continued on as normal quickly afterward, with only a couple comments about that whole thing.

It was only later, when she deigned to check the internet, when she learned what a big thing it was. Apparently, it had broadcast on every screen, more or less, not just their old rust bucket. The entire world, disrupted for a few minutes by whatever that had been. There were theories, of course, and people picking at it to find even the smallest of leads. A TV show, perhaps, some advertising campaign or other, or even an elaborate hypnosis attempt by the elite. There was, too, speculation about the figures seen, analyzing everything from their heights and weights to their potential identities. Without much to go on regarding the latter, baseless ideas ran rampant, though none in particular stood out to Veronica. 

She didn’t clock it as anything particularly serious until the World Council held a press conference about the whole thing a couple of days later, sharing some of what they knew.

“This broadcast touched not only civilian channels, but interfered with even the most private of channels on this planet. This led us to suspect a particular possibility: one which was then proven correct when the source of the broadcast was detected to originate in deep space, far outside our solar system, likely even the Milky Way Galaxy.”

That was another thing Veronica figured would take a while to set in. 

It did motivate her to apply for a job at the Galaxy Garrison, though. She wasn’t exactly their biggest fan, given her skepticism even before Lance died in their care. But this was bigger than her, bigger than anyone really, and if she wanted to make sure everyone else she cared about came out the other side all right, then Veronica was willing to take things into her own hands.

Only a day or so after she sent in her application, the second incident occurred.  

Chapter Text

Okay, so. Easier to make the mistake than to fix it. There were a million things to consider- which he hadn’t when accidentally broadcasting Voltron’s performance. Hm. And now it was too late to take them back. Damage control was his best shot, planting rumors, casting doubt on those who tried to talk about where the broadcast signal came from, or other evidence of extraplanetary shenanigans, and deliberately dancing around the truth. It was bizarre, creating a social media account and figuring out how to type Latin alphabet characters on the fly, as well as monitoring his vocabulary. God, botting things was so much easier without the intergalactic (Imperial) watch dogs on his tail. Not to mention the technological difference. 

His translation software even allowed him access to a few other languages, allowing his efforts to better spread beyond just the Anglosphere.

Ultimately, though, there was no way to undo this catastrophe, and that meant reaching out for help. Which he, uh. Couldn’t do. 

See, this wasn’t a problem to go to the Resistance over. Given their lack of familiarity with Earth, and most of the members more-or-less being from planets which were long ago connected to the wider universe, he doubted most of his fellow rebels would understand the significance of what he’d done, let alone have the capability to help him. Really, Voltron themselves were the only ones who’d understand the gravity of this whole thing- and they deserved to know, too, considering it was footage of them which everyone on Earth had been exposed to. Alas, that option wasn’t available for him.

See, Pidge’s call hadn’t just been a catch-up, or for the younger to bitch about the Voltron Show. In between events, the Coalition had been building towards a climactic battle, revolving around the planet Naxzela. If they played their cards right, they had the chance to reclaim a third of the universe in one fell swoop. Now that the shows had concluded, the Coalition’s- and particularly Voltron’s- attention was entirely dedicated to the preparation required for such a feat, which was planned to take place in less than a movement. And their attention should be dedicated to such an event! Matt was only in charge- and sharing the responsibility, mind you- of a portion of the task, and already he had plenty on his plate. (He would probably be paying more attention to that, too, if it weren’t for the mess he’d created.) However, if he let them in on his accident, there was no way they’d take it like water on a duck’s back. At minimum, he’d be throwing a whole planet of stress onto their shoulders as they endeavored to push on like normal, which could lead to possibly fatal moments of distraction. Somehow, however, he doubted they’d take it so well. Especially considering the circumstances surrounding their departures.

(His adventures back on Earth's internet had led him to accidentally glimpsing a re-upload of an event. A large crowd gathered in front of the all-too-familiar Arizonan Garrison Base had caught Matt off-guard enough for him to forget to scroll past for a moment, just long enough to spy portraits of three very familiar faces up on a stage, right as the admiral began going on about cadets lost too soon… Yeah, he swiped away as soon as he realized what that was about.)

 Anyway, he couldn’t afford to steal Voltron’s attention like that, couldn’t let this weigh over them at Naxzela. So, for at least the moment, Matt was zipping his lips. Once the battle was over- and once they hopefully won, without any extra complications- he’d be in the clear to fess up and ensure this whole conundrum got the resolution it deserved. 

In the meantime… would hacking into the sorts of channels used to actually confront things like this be a better or worse idea? It’d certainly give him a more developed understanding of what Earth actually knew, but if they figured out he was there- well. 

Nah, Holts don’t get caught. Cracking his knuckles, Matt got back to work.

—

Matthew Holt, astronaut extraordinaire, couldn’t lie and say he’d never hacked into classified databases before (really, he knew half the Garrison’s top secret files off the top of his head- turns out the other half were all about aliens) but apparently not knowing there’s more to the universe than your planet, and having a slightly less developed frontal lobe, makes the whole thing much more exhilarating. It was a little disorienting, in all honesty, how much easier Garrison servers were to infiltrate, compared to what he was now used to dealing with. 

Same with the World Council, and its security sector. Guess that’s another thing Earth’ll have to improve on once it reaches out to the rest of the universe. For the moment, however, it served Matt quite well. His accidental broadcast had certainly spurred them into action, pages upon pages of meeting minutes and research shoved onto his screen. They’d figured out quite quickly, it seemed, that his signal wasn’t exactly the average TV program, and went straight onto trying to narrow down his location. He doubted they’d have any luck with that. Then it was meetings, meetings, meetings, an announcement about a press conference- seems the Under-Secretary-General of Global Communications used their veto to out-veto just about everyone else in the room when it came to that one- while analysts picked apart everything they could about the short clip they’d seen. Mercifully, the full sets of armor- though the helmets did the heavy lifting- blocked any attempts to eye the paladins themselves. A certain three being identified would sure blow this mess sky-high, not even considering Shiro.

Yeah, Matt had entirely fucked up on this one, but at least he didn’t fuck up that bad. 

Within a couple of days, the implication of aliens was made public, and the planet collectively lost their shit. It barely took half a varga for Matt’s tech to short out its internet connection once that went live, the sheer volume of rapid social media posts too much for his tenuous connection to handle. It took a few very stressful vargas to get the signal working again, during which chaos reigned. One question seemed to take precedence as people began to process the information revealed to them: why? Why, of all things, were those few seconds of footage what aliens decided to contact them with? Matt read one very detailed theory speculating that it was an attempt by aliens to return human efforts to send valuable cultural information out into the universe, and put his head in his hands. Quiznak, kids were going to be learning about this in their history classes, weren’t they? 

While the temptation to at least send an apology made Matt’s fingers twitch, he was well aware that silence was a much better policy, at least until Voltron was in the know, and could help. Anything he did to draw attention now would only cause the situation to spiral out of hand. But there was something so mortifying about such an accident being picked apart like this! So far as most of the planet was concerned, this was first fucking contact! Though, he supposed he now knew what it was like to be a celebrity in a new relationship. Except with geopolitical consequences. 

(Plus, he could already see the posts flash before his eyes, that confusing enough broadcast replaced by a plain text ‘sorry’. In English.)

In addition to the center holographic screen taking up Matt’s attention, decorated with whatever section of the internet he’d narrowed in on for the moment, he had a screen up for the Garrison’s networks, as well as the World Council’s and the World Security Council’s too. When they didn’t sit directly in front of him, he’d set them to ping at any new activity, should it be related to any of the keywords he’d selected- mostly related to aliens, broadcast, you get the point, and the paladins. So when, a couple of days after the press conference, a new file connected to the ‘Lance McClain’ key phrase showed up, it quickly grabbed Matt’s attention. Initially, his stomach sunk. Had they figured out some way to identify the paladins in the video? He doubted it was possible, given the difference in technological capabilities, but the chance is never zero… Gulping, he dared to open the file.

It was a- job application. Someone with the same surname as Lance had applied to their local base. Looking at the attached photo, Matt made the safe assumption that she was a close relative. He’d check when he had the opportunity, making a mental note of the name. He frowned. She was applying for a job in communications, and so analysis was probably within her ballpark- would she have been able to tell it was Lance, even without seeing his face? Matt liked to think he knew Katie quite well, though even he’d struggle with the limits of only a few seconds of footage. Also the fact that she was acting would interfere. But Lance seemed the more flamboyant type, so perhaps that only made it more clear it was him? Or something like that. Point was, the fact that she was all of a sudden applying to that base, shortly after everything, made his classic Holt sense send out alarms. Surely there was some sort of connection there. 

He hesitated for a moment, before swiping the Garrison screen into the center, shoving the ‘edit profile’ page away for the moment. Matt approved her application, sending an email from a hiring manager’s account to ensure her arrival would be anticipated. Then, he prepared the acceptance email to Ms McClain’s own account, using all the cookie-cutter phrases. (Thank WikiHow: the internet’s immortal advisor.) Just before signing off, he included the email of her new supervisor for any inquiries… and then his own, ‘in case she needed advice over issues her supervisor wasn’t able to solve’. He had a proper Garrison email and all, though not the one he’d used when he went there- they’d deleted that, after his supposed death. Regardless, it shouldn’t ring any serious alarm bells, unless she was looking for some to ring. 

Sighing, Matt sent off the email, hoping this wasn’t a massive mistake. Back to business. 

—

His newfound ability to make contact with Earth did leave one yet unexplored possibility: one even more tempting than apologizing for the mess he’d created. See, now that he’d figured out how to sneak his way into Earth’s telecommunication network, he was able to do a lot more than update his status (hopefully no one saw that) and engage in a fair bit of trolling. It also, well. It gave him the chance to call his mom. 

It snapped his heart clean in half, knowing she likely thought all of them- him, dad, and Pidge- were dead. For as elated as he had been to reunite with Katie, the realization that mom had been left all alone (and, later, the realization that mom didn’t know her last remaining family member had gone hunting for the rest of them) was like sludge in his stomach. A thousand questions ran through his mind- had been for a long time now. He hoped, at least, that she had someone to talk to, and that she didn’t let this break her. He didn’t know what he’d do, if he played a part in ruining her.

(Single-handedly defeat the Galra Empire, perhaps. But those were plans for another day.)

In a sense, he might be able to fix that. It’d be child’s play to connect a line to her phone, and- fuck, hear her voice for the first time in far too long. If he just told her the truth, reassured her that he and Katie were alive and safe, and that they were going to find dad and reunite them all, then maybe he could help ease that pain. 

He also just really, really wanted to talk to her again.

But what would Katie think, if he did that without her- especially after all this? 

He stared, for a long moment, at the call button. He closed the window.

—

“Have you heard from Matt recently?” Lance asked, letting himself into Pidge’s room and flopping onto the floor unceremoniously, long limbs stretched out like a starfish. She didn’t bother to look up from her computer.

“Not in a few phoebs,” she answered absently, fingers typing at light speed. “We’ve both been busy. Why?”

“Not busy enough,” the Cuban boy muttered, before shoving his phone in her face. Pidge blinked, squinting, as she tried to make out the words before her. “He asked if I’m related to someone named Veronica.”
"Okay?"

“I am!” He squawked, somehow looking more outraged as he admitted this. “How does he know that?” Pidge stared, for a long moment, before shoving her glasses up her face. 

“Does this really matter?” She shoved his phone out of her face and turned back to her computer. “I’m kind of busy right now.” She couldn’t see his face, but she felt in her soul that he was frowning. 

(Damn, she thought she got rid of that thing ages ago.)

She seriously was ‘kind of’ busy, by the way. Given there were only a few vargas until they set their plan into motion, just about everyone was busy with something, in order to make sure the operation went as smoothly as possible. Adrenaline thrummed under her skin, as she thought about what they were hoping to accomplish. Damn right everyone was busy.

Well, apparently everyone except Lance. 

“Yeah,” his tone hit like a dagger to the gut, and Pidge winced, suddenly swept by uneasiness. “Ronnie’s my sister, Pidge, and I was doing my best not to think about my family, but now I am thinking about them, and, like, we could die. Obviously we could die- we nearly die all the time- but, like. If I died, I’d never get to see them again, and then-” he continued on, and Pidge slowly extracted her fingers from the keys before her. Okay, maybe Lance was busy too, then. She chewed on her lip, watching him pace, wondering what to say. Man, why’d he go to her, instead of Hunk? Oh, right, Matt. 

“Did Matt just now text you that?” A logical question which didn’t require acknowledging emotion. Plus ten points. Lance paused, checking the date on the text.
“I… don’t know. I don’t know what time it is.” Pidge glanced at the bottom right-hand corner of her screen, spying the answer to Lance’s conundrum- if they were on Earth. 

“Well technically it’s about seven in the morning, on the thirteenth of July, but considering we’re in space-”

“Oh, then he sent this last night.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Uh, I said he sent the text last night?” Lance’s face twisted into a smirk. “What, did poor little Pidgey try to contact her big bro then, only to find him too occupied talking with moi?” She gave him the dirtiest look she could muster, but the task only occupied a quarter of her mind, the rest focused on the orange glowing screen of Lance’s phone. She hadn’t paid it much attention before, but now it stood out starkly, like a hurricane alert. 

“Give me that,” she demanded, already taking the phone, despite Lance’s protests. The message was still displayed. “This is SMS.”

“Uh, okay?” She sighed, pointing aggressively at the screen.

“SMS is an Earth way of communicating. It requires making contact with an SMSC and-” she shook her head. “Look, the details don’t matter. The point is, when Matt sent this message, it had to go from him to Earth, then from Earth to you. That means…” The realization lit up in Lance’s eyes. Guess there was something going on behind them after all.

“... He contacted Earth. Holy shit, he contacted Earth! To, uh, to ask about my sister?” A dark look crossed Lance’s face, as he mumbled something in Spanish under his breath.

“That can’t be it,” Pidge dismissed, her mind feeling a little like it was collapsing in on itself. “Maybe this was some roundabout way to let us know he figured out how to make contact with Earth? It can’t be because of an emergency, either- he would’ve said that otherwise.” Lance’s face bounced back to jubilance. 

“So, he gave us a hint about figuring out how to contact Earth, presumably to get our spirits up?” A wide grin split his face. “I can’t wait to talk to my family again! Man, he should’ve told us after- that’s all I’ll be able to think about now.” Pidge’s lips twisted into a facsimile of a smile.

“Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”

“Wait.” She squinted at the contact name. “Why do you have Matt’s number?”

“Oh, I don’t.”

“Uh, yes you do? The contact is named, Lance.”

“This is Shiro’s phone. He left it in the kitchen and I heard it ping. I was curious.” She made a face as an exaggerated look of innocence settled on the other’s features. Reading the message again, yeah, that added up.

“How’d you crack his password?” She wondered aloud, before snorting. “Never mind. He doesn’t have one, does he?” Lance just grinned, which was answer enough. “Okay, we solved the mystery. Leave me to my peace, dickhead.” He laughed, allowing himself to be ushered out, tapping away at the phone screen.

“Let me just reply, and then I’ll be back to Official Red Paladin Business, pinky promise!” 

“You better!”

—

Frankly, Ellen was fuming. The Galaxy Garrison had spent decades carefully covering up all evidence of alien life, for the sake of protecting the everyday person. She’d even gone to the effort of keeping that to her institution, guarding that knowledge from even her bosses for the sake of greater good. Recent events had only further justified her in doing so. By acknowledging the existence of extraterrestrial life so frivolously, the World Council had done nothing but work the planet into a frenzy. And over a few seconds of a video! 

(No, ma’am, she didn’t care that the vocalizations in the clip weren’t remotely like anything from their fair planet, and that it was only a matter of time before the rest of the world came to that conclusion too- the longer they gave themselves to prepare the better, thank you very much.)

She’d had to reorganize the next few shipments of supplies to her base, after frantic raids by citizens had looted the warehouses of her usual supplier, costing time and money that could’ve been better spent preparing for what first contact actually meant. Something she, thankfully enough, had been doing for a long time now. With no date in the calendar for when aliens would be once more turning their eyes to Earth, that was an advantage she’d take care to make the most of. 

Though not one she could dedicate her focus to at the moment, since the same World Council who’d made the idiotic announcement had, just an hour prior, demanded her attendance at an ‘emergency meeting’. The phrase would have caused her eyes to roll out of her head, had she been a less controlled woman. 

According to the World Council, every endeavor it personally undertook was an emergency. 

Regardless, the admiral diligently made time out of her schedule, keeping her complaints for the privacy of her own mind. Taking her seat in the control room, Ellen crossed her arms over her chest, tapping one foot against the ground.

Maybe not quite saved for the privacy of her mind, then. 

One of her subordinates set up the display, the face of Under-Secretary-General Qīng Tián of Global Communications: the latest source of her ire. 

“Good afternoon, Admiral Sanda,” the other greeted, “I hope my meeting request hasn’t disturbed you.” 

“No more than usual,” the admiral responded primly, sitting to the extent of her height. “May I inquire as to what is so… urgent?” They didn’t so much as blink at the hint of bite to Ellen’s tone, simply tilting their head in acknowledgement. 

“Due to the recent situation, all communication centers have been instructed to automatically store a copy of any message they are to transmit,” the under-secretary-general informed, “and, should something about the message itself, or the location of either the sender or recipient, be unusual, an alert is to be sent to my department. This is one of the many measures we have put in place to catch extraterrestrial contact, should the party that reached out endeavor to contact us again.” 

“I’m assuming you’ve picked up on something that concerns me?” Internally, her interest piqued at the implication of second contact. 

“An SMS communication center received a message from an off-planet signal which seems to at least come from the same direction as the broadcast a few days ago,” Tián confirmed. SMS… Ellen frowned.

“If the alien was using SMS, they were contacting a particular person.” Someone on her base, perhaps? That would explain why she was being told this. 

It also meant the alien was familiar with SMS- perhaps because they used it- and Earth’s use of it specifically. Ellen doubted any alien equivalent would so easily connect with their own networks. 

“They were, though Earth seemed to only be being used as a middle-man for this contact, as the recipient was also off-planet, too far away for us to pin down. But, this time, we were able to identify the owner of the phone number.” 

“So, the owner of the phone number is registered on Earth, but is currently in deep space.” You know, that almost reminded her of-

“The phone number is registered with one Takashi Shirogane. You might recognize that name.” 

Ah.

Ellen did, in fact, recognize that name. Not only was it one on the memorial wall, but it was one she had, in the past, praised and scorned in equal measure. For such an amazing pilot, his condition had caused her innumerable headaches. His supposed death, too, had the same result. One of which was suddenly developing. 

“So aliens have been to our solar system,” Ellen deduced, snippets of a harsh alien tongue echoing through her mind, “and potentially investigated the wreckage of the Kerberos crash.” Tián just watched her, for a long moment. 

“That’s a possibility,” they acknowledged. “You might also find the contents of the message to be relevant.” A ping echoed from Ellen’s tablet, and she quickly pulled it out.

“Is Lance related to someone named Veronica McClain?”

“Lance McClain,” Ellen murmured under her breath, the boy’s funeral picture momentarily passing through her mind. 

“He died in a meteor crash near your base, correct?”

“He did,” she answered on autopilot, mind racing. McClain had been one of the cadets that stole Shiro from their custody. She’d seen the footage of the alien ship leaving their planet the next day. Ellen almost heard the pieces click together in her mind. 

(She’d scrutinized every pixel of that UFO. Now, thinking back on the broadcast, it seemed to match a particular individual. She wondered, if she compared that individual’s figure to what they had on record of the ex-cadets, what she might find. If she compared any of those individuals to the ex-cadets or a particular late member of staff.)

You know, the Galaxy Garrison was only meant to accept the best and brightest. Perhaps her standards had been slipping, as of late. 

“Thank you for informing me of this,” Ellen finally replied, for once meaning those words wholeheartedly. “Is there anything else of relevance to know?” 

“I might draw attention to a recent hire of yours.” The admiral furrowed her brow. 

“I’d have to ask who you mean- I’m not aware of any new hires.” They had a few positions to fill, but she’d not been alerted to that having occurred, as much as it grated on her to admit. Alas, she was already hiding enough from the Council, best not to risk it on petty matters. Tián frowned.

“According to your base’s records, the application of Veronica McClain, sister of the deceased Lance McClain, was approved late last night.”

“How late?”

“Just past 2200, if I remember correctly.”

“That can’t be right,” Ellen refused. “Only the night guard are still active that late; no one’s approving job applications at that time.” A queasy feeling settled in her core.

“Well,” the under-secretary-general remarked, “looks like you might have a mole to hunt down.”

Chapter Text

Lance had a feeling history books would have a more positive opinion about Naxzela than he ever would. After all, looking at the plain facts, it was a complete victory. There were some hiccups here and there, sure, but the Voltron Coalition had completed all their goals without exception and emerged the clear and total victor. By the time the day’s events were interred in the annals of history, that would be the part that mattered.

From a personal perspective, however, he’d have to disagree. Quite vehemently, too. It was a mixed victory at best, the striking terror of realizing the planet was a bomb as strong and overwhelming as the adrenaline of victory. For all that he was able to push through those feelings and act, well, composed- more or less; look, no one’s going to blame you for cheering about your own victory, yeah?- they’d strummed loud within him regardless. 

From a personal perspective, the adrenaline of victory couldn’t light a candle to the moment he realized what Keith was doing, the facts coming together hauntingly slow. Like putting together a thousand-piece puzzle, only to realize the thing depicted your whole family dying. Or something. For Lance- and, he knew, for the rest of the team- that was the most important, most memorable part of the battle. If someone asked him what happened, that would be the first thing he thought of. You know, from a personal perspective. 

(If Keith had died then, would the history books even mention it? Maybe they’d have a line about how a member of the Blade had sacrificed themself to win the battle, but most of the Blades were borderline anonymous. Maybe no one would even try to know Keith’s name, and what happened to the first pilot of the Red Lion would remain a big question mark.)

One part where Lance was pretty sure he and history could agree, however, was the name LOTOR in big, blocky letters, taking up a massive page. Probably with a really mean face, because that was what Lotor deserved. With a mustache drawn on it. Yeah, that’d show him! 

Sure, Lotor saved Keith- that was the only reason Lance wasn’t contemplating assassinating him at the first opportunity- but he had also spent a lot more time attacking them all! All of a sudden, he has a change of heart? Yeah, no. Nope. Nada. Zero chance, bucko. Whatever scheme the prince had concocted, it wasn’t happening. Lance would personally ensure that jackass stayed locked up in a fancy Altean cell for the rest of his inordinately long lifetime. It’d be his pleasure, in fact. 

That was a matter for later, however, when the aftershakes of the ordeal they’d just been through had faded into memory. When they weren’t all flopped over in the lounge, revelling in still being alive and together. Most of them were together, at least. 

In a not-unusual turn of events, Lance’s thoughts turned to his family. Recollections of holidays, and school days, and being teased by older siblings flashed through his mind, bringing with them a familiar sadness. Voltron had grown to be something of a family too, true, but his family amongst the Castle of Lion’s walls was fundamentally different to his family back on Earth. Allura was an amazing pseudo-sister, but she wasn’t Raquel or Veronica. Shiro might have filled a similar role to Luis, but they weren’t the same person. Hunk might’ve been a brother to him even before space, but he and Marco were different in a thousand big and little ways. Not that his space family had to be like his Earth family- dios, he’d rather die than replace his family!- people could have two different families, y’know, but the difference was there and it hurt. 

Except…

Hey, wasn’t there that-

“Matt!” Lance suddenly exclaimed, forcing himself upright. He could feel, and see, as the team’s heads collectively turned towards him, painted in incomprehension, until Pidge let out a loud gasp.

“Oh wait, yeah!” Shiro’s face settled into a slight frown.

“Did something happen with Matt? I didn't hear…”

“No, no no no no no,” Lance interrupted, shaking a finger to emphasize the point. “Matt’s fine. But he figured out how to contact Earth.”

A moment of silence, followed by an eruption of chaos. 

While Lance usually carried the title of shit-stirrer with grace, he could admit that Hunk- when properly motivated- stole that thing away without blinking, if properly motivated. It was part of the reason they worked so well together, even if only one of them ever did it on purpose. And, without a doubt, learning that he could potentially talk to his family was a moment where the guy lost it. In a good way. But loudly. In addition to exclamations from Shiro and Allura, it was safe to say Lance’s eardrums were ringing. Pidge smacked a hand over each of her ears, scowling.

When it calmed down a little, the gremlin jumped in to explain, going over what she and Lance had figured out before the battle, due to Matt’s text.

(“Wait, Lance, you stole my phone?!”)

Needless to say, it didn’t take long for them all to fall into agreement, sending out a call to Matt. Even Shiro seemed invested, and he was the only one Lance hadn’t heard mention family! Except maybe Keith, but Keith made a habit of being as mysterious as possible, so that didn’t count. They should remember to tell Keith soon, though- can’t leave anyone out of something like this. 

After a few moments, the ‘calling…’ screen was replaced with Matt’s face, the other looking rather caught out. Perhaps he’d forgotten about his message too. 

“Matt,” Pidge announced, with an almost comically serious expression, complete with a glasses flash and everything, “we need to talk about Earth.” Matt let out a rather unholy noise, nearly tripping over his own feet. Lance couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as the other’s expression became pinched, glancing at them through the camera with something the paladin couldn’t place. 

“What- uh. What about Earth?”

“You making contact with it.” From her tone of voice, Pidge was just as perplexed by the odd reaction. Matt let out a long, wheezing noise, like a whoopee cushion with a hole in it. “You know, which you told us yourself.”

“I did?!”

“Yes? When you sent Shiro a message. Through SMS. The one asking about Lance’s sister.” Matt seemed to stop and think, before brightening.

“Oh! That- the message about Veronica. Right. I. Did not mean to use SMS when I sent that. Did I use SMS? But you’re right, I have contacted Earth- I was going to tell you guys after we got Naxzela out of the way.”

“But we can talk to our families, right?” Hunk asked. “That’s a thing we can do now?”

“It’d take a little bit to set it up,” Matt warned, “but so long as you have their contact details- yes. We can make contact with them. However, before we get to that, there’s something I should tell you first.”

“Is it related to why you were asking after my sister?” Lance made sure to cut in with. Look, little sibling’s honor and all that, okay? 

“Oh yeah. Probably. Look, I accidentally did something- let me just tell you how I contacted Earth in the first place.” 

Glancing at each other for a moment, they acquiesced to the tale, some with more patience than others. And, oh boy, what a tale it was.

—

“Do you believe any of that was true?” Nine asked the moment Qīng ended the call, her tone severe. “An awful number of things seem to be pointing right at the Admiral.”

“I think she was telling the truth about Ms McClain,” the Under-Secretary-General informed, their assistant huffing in response. “With other subjects, Sanda was closed-off and defensive, but the mention of Ms McClain appeared to genuinely catch her off-guard.” Nine made a neutral noise.

“Either way, that woman needs to be sent packing.” 

“That we can agree on.” If nothing else, Qīng had seen the fire of insubordination in the other’s eyes. Whether or not she was genuinely blameless regarding Veronica McClain’s odd position, it was much harder to argue that the woman knew nothing about Lance McClain, or Takashi Shirogane. Or the other deceased associated with that base in the past few years. Beyond the official story, at least. Something odd, it seemed, was afoot in Arizona- and had been for some time now, right under their noses.

Well, under the Galaxy Garrison’s, and thus the wider World Council’s, noses, but not necessarily Qīng’s. If it weren’t for their department intercepting the message, they’d never have been the one to confront the admiral. 

They still shouldn’t have been, really. Too bad the Galaxy Garrison can’t take matters into their own hands if they don’t know about said matters yet. 

“Start writing a letter to Maddox about the situation,” Qīng decreed, “and make it clear that if the Galaxy Garrison doesn’t start investigating what Admiral Sanda- and whoever else working under her nose- we will act as though their whole department has been poisoned.” They thought back to that intercepted message. 

It wasn’t her department’s job to deal with that nightmare, besides stumbling upon clues. Hopefully, the people who were meant to had their heads on straight. 

—

Veronica stared, long and hard, at her interviewer. She’d been told she had an intense gaze about her- something to do with her narrow face shape and sharp cheekbones. Regardless, this supposed intimidation factor didn’t cause the woman sitting across from the McClain to so much as flinch, the admiral staring back in equal intensity. Considering her position, Veronica couldn’t be very surprised. The other had likely seen far worse things than she could comprehend.

The admiral’s old age might be driving her a bit senile, however.

Veronica had been quite pleasantly surprised to see how quickly her application was approved, remarking to Raquel something about the Garrison at least being efficient. She wouldn’t have even seen it, if she hadn’t been up late herself. In addition, the acceptance email she received wasn’t the most professional- turning up the next day, dios- ideas not concluding themselves properly, and discordant wording throughout the whole thing, which just made her suspect that the person who wrote it had no idea what they were talking about. Veronica indulged in running a quick search of the worst parts of the paragraph, and- yup, straight from WikiHow. Word for word, too, to the point that she was just glad they hadn’t also copied over the [insert situationally appropriate phrase here] sections too. Hopefully that standard didn’t carry through the rest of her employment, though. And hopefully the Garrison didn’t always do things so last-minute. (Seriously, the thing’d said her work started the following morning, not even getting a full twelve hours to see the email- she’d only actually gone to chew them out over that.)

Then there was the odd bit towards the end of the email. After listing her new supervisor’s contact details, there was another email for ‘any queries your supervisor couldn’t solve’, which already had Veronica raising an eyebrow. Just looking at the email listed, too, something felt… off. It took her a bit of close examining, but she soon spotted what caused that feeling: it was a fake email. Not Garrison issued, no matter how much it tried to seem so. 

The ‘i’ in Garrison didn’t have a dot over it. 

There weren’t any other discrepancies she could spot, but that was enough to signal a different character had been used: a mistake that wouldn’t be made in an official Garrison email. The other emails- the supervisor’s email, and the email which sent her the job acceptance notice- both seemed to be official Garrison emails, making the fake stand out like a blaring question mark. If she’d received the message from a fake email, she’d be raising concerns about the Garrison’s security, but if a Garrison-issued email was encouraging her to contact a fake Garrison email… what the hell did that mean? ‘Any queries your supervisor can’t solve’... 

Was this a conspiracy, or something? It felt like a conspiracy. She should probably just delete the email, or forward its contents up the pecking order, but… well, you know what they say about curiosity. 

Something really weird was going on here, and Veronica would be damned if she didn’t get to the bottom of it.

However, the mystery only deepened, when she found the Base Admiral of her new workplace impatiently awaiting her arrival, dragging Veronica off to her office. Hence the whole interrogation thing. To be fair, Veronica hadn’t really known what to expect from this new job- but being accused of working with aliens wasn’t it. 

The admiral didn’t seem to be joking- Veronica hadn’t known her for even an hour, but it was pretty clear she wasn’t the type- and aliens had made contact with Earth, so perhaps the thought that someone might be in cahoots with them wasn’t completely unreasonable, but Veronica? They had, quite literally, only just met. So, then, whatever caused the admiral to suspect something so ludicrous likely wasn’t related to Veronica McClain, the individual, but perhaps something she had been unknowingly caught up in? If so, one thought popped to mind. 

“Is this about that ‘extra inquiries’ email?” Veronica asked, praying she wasn’t showing her hand too soon. “Because I have no idea why that was there either.”

“Extra inquiries email.” Her boss’ flat tone made Veronica wince.

“Uh, it was at the bottom of my acceptance email? It said if I had any questions my supervisor couldn’t answer, to flick a message towards it. It wasn’t a Garrison email, though, even if it was pretending to be.” A long moment passed.

Back to staring, it seemed.

“Welcome to the Galaxy Garrison’s Arizona Base,” the admiral suddenly announced, standing up. “I hope you enjoy your time working here.” She was out of the office the moment she finished speaking. 

The hell was that about?

—

If anyone had walked in as Matt’s explanation was unfolding, they might remark that the residents of the castle- who looked to be in the highest of spirits when the call connected- deflated like balloons over the course of his recitation, particularly the humans in the crowd. Deflated balloons in a hurricane, perhaps, their enthusiasm not just sucked out, but rather entirely vanquished, probably on the other side of the universe by the time Matt shut his mouth. 

“So,” Shiro said, cutting through the silence. “To recap: you accidentally broadcast a snippet of the Voltron Show to Earth, and revealed the existence of aliens, and have spent the past few days monitoring online discussion of that, to make sure things didn’t blow out of proportion before you told us.”

“And to know what Earth knew,” Matt threw in. “But, uh. Yeah. Sorry?”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, it seemed, the group of them chattering over top of each other in order to make their opinions known. 

“Man, what do I tell my parents?”

“Well there’s no way mine didn’t recognize my razzle-dazzle out there-”

“Matt you fucking idiot-”

“Okay, so seems we have a new problem-”

“Why is this a problem?” Allura asked, a small frown on her face, earning all the group’s attention in an instant. When they shot her various shades of bewilderment, the princess elaborated, “I recognize that your species were not previously familiar with aliens, and so this must be quite a shock on Earth, but I don’t see how it’s a problem, especially not a problem for us. Earth has no capabilities to reach out to sentient life outside its own planet, and Matt’s communication was entirely accidental. If he doesn’t reach out to contact Earth again, the situation is exactly the same as before, except Earth has slightly more knowledge.”

“I mean… it’s our planet, man,” Hunk said. “Our families live there, and I really miss it. Like so bad you guys.” Lance gave him a commiserating pat on the back. “I want to communicate with Earth, now that I know that’s possible.” A round of nods went through the human members of Voltron. 

“Besides,” Pidge cut in. “I doubt we’re going to deal with Voltron, and then come back to Earth without any mention of it. If we want to see our families again, Voltron and the universe will be relevant. So, if we leave the first impression of us entirely up to interpretation, we have no idea what our planet will think when we do return.” 

“Man, I can’t wait to rub all of this in the Garrison’s faces.” Lance’s statement earned a few chuckles, and a wry smile from Shiro. 

“They blamed Kerberos on me, right?” At confirmation, he gave a nod. “Yeah.”

“You all make good points!” Coran complimented, Allura nodding along.

“I might not understand it,” Allura acknowledged, “but I think you’ve more than earned the right to contact your families regardless.”

“Well, I personally am fascinated at the thought of seeing your primitive species in action! From afar, of course. I doubt we’ve currently got the wiggle-room for a holiday.”

“You’re right on that,” Shiro acquiesced, earning looks of betrayal from Hunk and Lance. “I doubt any stop on our home planet will be a short one, like we’re used to on diplomatic trips. But we don’t need to go to Earth to contact it. Matt?” 

“What do you think I am, Shiro, an amateur? Like I said before, all I need is contact details, and I can get you straight to whoever you want to contact.” His expression twisted a little, gaze shifted to the side. “I miiight have put more focus into narrower communications, given… all of this.” 

“Will we also be communicating with Earth’s leaders?” Allura asked. “We’ll need to if we want to start explaining ourselves to Earth as a whole.”

“If you want into the World Council, I’ve hacked about every channel they have,” Matt offered. “I can get you right through to the top.” They exchanged looks with each other.

“Man,” Hunk sighed, “that would’ve freaked me out so much more before all this space stuff.”

“That’ll do, thank you, Matt,” Shiro responded. “For the moment, we should talk strategy.”

Lance let out a long, dramatic sigh, drawing attention his way.

“What,” Pidge demanded, face flat. Lance faked being wounded at her wounds, flopping over with even more dramatics. 

“Are we really just going to go about this so discreetly?” The Cuban whined. “Keep the vast majority of Earth’s people out of the equation?”

“Yes.”

“That seems to be the plan!”

“It’s what’s most reasonable, is it not?”

“No! Not at all!” A more determined look crossed the teen’s face, as he stood upright again. “It may not have been our choice, but this started with a bang. We need to keep that momentum going.” Shiro gave him a look. 

“Like when we do air shows?” Hunk asked, considering. “Or the Voltron Show?” 

“It’s how we make an impression on planets! How we show them what Voltron is capable of doing! Why should we forget about that for Earth?” 

“The boy’s got a point,” Coran mused. “It would be a pity to only negate the bells and whistles when it comes to the planet most of our paladins hail from.”

“If anything, Earth would deserve more of a show than most.” A spark lit in Allura’s eye. Even Pidge didn’t outright speak up in opposition. 

“Okay, so we’re putting on a show for Earth.” Their leader's tone spoke with finality, a brief nod of acquiescence sent Lance’s way. “How are we going to do it, considering we aren’t physically bringing Voltron to Earth?”

—

Keith didn’t regret it, for the record. No one could ever make him say otherwise, not when it was the truth. Taking Lotor out of the equation- because Lotor wasn’t in it when Keith made that decision- there was no other way for them to bring down that shield. One person was a drop in the ocean when it came to the Voltron Coalition, and he couldn’t even consider himself a particularly valuable drop, either. Keith hadn’t been leading anything, and certainly hadn’t been indispensable. Any other Blade could’ve filled his same role- including the attempt at sacrifice- and nothing would change. 

Despite Kolivan being the one to push the Blade mentality the most, however, even he hadn’t seemed impressed with Keith when it was all over and done with. Though, perhaps the ex-paladin was reading too much into it- it’s not like Kolivan had actually said anything- however, if even Kolivan had a problem with Keith’s decisions, then there was no way Voltron didn’t.

Keith wasn’t stupid, despite what some (Lance or Shiro usually, Pidge on occasion) might assert. He wasn’t so blind as to miss when people cared about him, especially when they were so obvious about it. Especially when it came to Shiro, though he’d grown close to the rest of the team as well. Not to mention Allura saying as much to his face. 

They probably thought he’d left because he didn’t feel like a real part of the team. He had, he’d known that in his very bones. It was the knowing that made him leave, not the opposite. 

Though, he supposed he couldn’t guarantee they had continued to care. For all he knew, the distance he’d forced between them had caused those feelings about him to fade. In which case, Keith supposed he couldn’t blame them. 

Therefore, when Keith was alerted to the fact that Voltron were requesting to speak with him, it was still somewhat a surprise. That feeling was quickly washed away by a firm darkness settling in his midsection, surrounded on all sides by steel resolve. So soon after Naxzela, there was only one thing they could be calling about.

He didn’t regret it. 

Approaching one of the base’s communication room with the same sense of dread as someone approaching the gallows, Keith was at least relieved to see no one else present. Voltron’s screen was already lit up- of course it was idiot, they’re the ones who called- the full team present. Oh boy. Besides them, on another screen, was Matt, who’d undoubtedly snitched about all the details the team hadn’t heard. Willing himself to seem as unaffected as possible, Keith walked forward.

“What’s this about?” 

One rule he’d learned growing up: never volunteer information. 

“Not what you think,” Lance cut in, causing Keith to squint. “Believe me, buddy, we will absolutely be having that conversation, but not right now. See, something’s come up.” 

“Something related to Voltron.” Why was he being included then? (And why was Matt?)

“Yes and no,” Shiro answered, before reciting the story from the top.

And- yeah. Definitely not what he thought it was.

(What the fuck, Matt.)

Chapter Text

“She doesn’t know anything,” Ellen asserted, shortly into a meeting with Iverson and Sablan. She’d usually have consulted her ring of commanders, given the importance of their base’s present issues, however- for the moment- that had shrunk to only the commanders she could absolutely, one-hundred-percent, verify the loyalty of. 

“That became incredibly clear upon speaking to her. Miss McClain is completely unaware of anything related to aliens, or the recent incident, including the events connected to her brother.” 

That reminder added weight to the air in the room. It had been just short of a year since that whole… incident… and already it was starting to weigh on their endeavors. Ellen would’ve cursed Shirogane’s name, if she’d had slightly less tact. 

“Then, perhaps, is her brother- or the others with him- perhaps tied to this mess?” Sablan speculated. “Miss McClain may have no personal reason to meddle with this base’s affairs, but they’d have reason to be connected to both her and this base. Do we know what their goals might be?” Iverson gave a see-saw motion.

“We’ve got no idea what they’re up to,” he said. “But their involvement makes more sense than this being entirely unrelated to them.”

Ellen paused for a moment, before bringing an image up onto the large holoscreen in the center of the room. It was an amalgamation of frames from the broadcast, stitched together to display the best possible stance of each armored form depicted. A moment later, notes about each figure appeared over top of them.

“I’ve kept the details on a need-to-know basis,” the Admiral informed, “but I asked our analysts to look over each of these figures, in order to gather as much basic knowledge about them as we can. Their likely heights, body shapes, dimensions, anything we can glean from these images alone. Of course, given that we don’t know the context of anything else seen, and we have no way to read the metadata of the video, our capacity on this front is limited. But, if we presume the figures to be roughly the size of humans…” Besides the black, blue, yellow, and green-accented figures, an identification photo appeared. She heard her two subordinates suck in their breaths. “... Then we find that four of five figures potentially match individuals already in our system.” 

“So,” Iverson remarked, “whatever the hell is going on, it’s all our fault.” Ellen frowned.

“That’s one potential interpretation of the present situation,” she acknowledged through clenched teeth. “What’s more important is what we are going to do with this knowledge, and how we’re going to prevent the World Council from suspecting anything from our base.” It rankled at her that, though they’d put countless hours, over periods of decades- her entire career, perhaps- into ensuring the cover-up of alien life, the decisions of four fool-hardy figures were preparing to unravel that. 

The holoscreen flickered. Ellen frowned. A new video began to play, one she most certainly hadn’t set to do so. 

A set of familiar faces appeared. Her dismay echoed in her commanders’ expressions. 

“Seems we’re going to be here a while longer,” Sablan announced, letting out a weary sigh. 

—

“Do you think Ronnie’s gonna tear them a new asshole?” Raquel wondered, head turned towards Lisa, who stood in front of a number of screens in the middle of the living room. 

“Language,” Lisa chided, not bothering to turn and look at her sister-in-law, lazing in front of the TV. “But could you expect anything else from her? Their fault for not meeting the basic standards of professionalism.” Raquel shrugged, turning her attention to the tub of ice cream before her. 

“Fair.” Nadia mimicked her tone of voice, from where she sat at her aunt’s side, though she didn’t speak anything other than baby noises. Silvio repeated the same noises, but louder, with a smile encompassing half his face. “Woah, Silvito, rude.” Lisa laughed, before joining the fray, doing her best to mimic her children’s noises. From the looks on their faces, they weren’t very impressed. 

All of a sudden, the drama playing out in the background of their conversation flicked, gaining Raquel’s attention immediately. She’d been waiting way too long to binge it, okay?! Not a moment later, the ice cream container fell out of her hands as a familiar face appeared on the screen. She didn’t hear the cheering of her niblings as they dove for sweet, sugary goodness, and the drama vanquished from her mind. Behind her, she heard Lisa gasp. 

“Hola,” Lance said through the television screen. Raquel heard it echo from Lisa’s equipment. “Long time no see, huh?” 

—

“Talofa tagata uma,” Hunk greeted, radiating nervousness, as his family stared on, open-mouthed. “Sorry for disappearing?” 

—

“This isn’t- have I started hallucinating?” Colleen asked herself, hysterically, tears carving rivets down her cheeks, unbidden. 

“No!” The Matt-that-sounds-like-Katie insisted, face twisted into misery. Their fingers reached as close to the edge of the screen as possible, pressed up against the camera. The reminder of distance made Colleen’s tears pour faster, a sob erupting from her throat. Matt-Katie’s face crumpled like paper, the Older Matt reaching to pull her into a hug.

“It’s really us, mom,” Older Matt insisted. “Matt and Katie. We’re okay, promise.”

—

“I don’t really know if I should be doing this,” Takashi confessed, “or if you’ll want to hear it. But.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe I should try to be brave.” A shy, terrified smile slipped out from the man’s lips. “Hi, Adam. Guess I shouldn’t have gone on that mission, huh?”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Adam murmured, quite sure he was paler than he’d ever been in his life.

—

In the moment that passed, between the image of Lance speaking and Raquel suddenly forgetting how to breathe, the faces of her family appeared around his- she spied hers and Lisa’s in the left corner, Luis not far from them, Marco looking quite bewildered in the bottom right, Mamá in tears in the mid-right, Papá not far behind her, both in position and emotion. Veronica was on the move, muttering swears under her breath. The image of Lance’s eyes flicked around too, and then tears pricked his eyes. 

“Mierda,” he hissed, wiping them away quickly. 

“Language,” Lisa chided, though her voice was hollow. Raquel watched as her eyes widened immediately after, the image of Lance snorted and then started crying more, and the majority of their family joined him, Raquel feeling a sob bubbling in her own throat. She took a few deep breaths. 

The environment surrounding Veronica’s image suddenly darkened, and her attention focused onto the screen, brows furrowing.

“Okay,” she murmured, taking a deep breath. “What the hell is this.”

“Right, uh.” The image of Lance took a moment to breathe. “The uh- the date is July 10th, 2217. Is that correct?” An affirmative murmur ran through the family, Raquel covering her mouth as sudden, inexplicable hope built in her chest. “Cool, okay. I… I’m not dead. There wasn’t an asteroid, or anything. Pidge, Hunk, and I are all alive- they’re talking to their families right now too.” That hope grew suddenly much bigger, mirrored by exclamations from the rest of the family, all talking over each other. She hugged her knees, letting tears fall quietly.

She wasn’t sure she could fully believe it, but… even the prospect of that being true made her full of joy. And then really, really furious.

—

“My poor baby,” Tania cooed, reaching out towards the screen before her, mimicking stroking her son’s image. Though Hunk couldn’t feel her fingers, he leaned into the gesture. “You must’ve been so scared.” Their entire family were piled around a single screen, leaning into each other for comfort. Hunk’s face cracked a little. 

“Are you kidding? It’s terrifying out here! We’re the last hope in an intergalactic war, and we barely have any idea what we’re doing! And- and I couldn’t talk to any of you about it. Man, hugs in space just aren’t the same.” His younger cousin, Tsintah, let out an outraged gasp.

“When you get back, we’re never gonna let you go,” she declared.

—

 The Holt family reunion (minus one) had resulted in two rooms being entirely flooded with tears: one on Earth and one in space. Not that either side had noticed, too caught up in catching each other up. And convincing Colleen that her children were, in fact, real.

“I’m sorry,” the older woman gasped around a sob, when the realization eventually clicked. “It’s just-” she clutched her knees to her chest, mouth a wobbly line. “I see you everywhere, all three of you.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Matt insisted softly, voice accented by a raspy quality. “We’re sorry for leaving you.” Pidge, struggling to control her own tears, nodded rapidly. “We’re sorry we haven’t found dad yet, too.”

“You’ll find him,” Colleen said, fire perhaps not in her voice, which was still rather wobbly, but echoed in her eyes. “I believe in the both of you, and in Sam.” 

—

“I was such an asshole to you,” Adam choked out, causing a frown to instantaneously appear on Takashi’s face. “Don’t you dare say otherwise- I was making the worst decision for both of us.”

“You weren’t exactly wrong,” Takashi offered anyway. “I was picking space over you, and look where that got me. You had reason to be upset with me, Adam.”

“All I did was make the rest of our time together miserable, Takashi. There were three years when I could have stood by your side, could have savored the time we had left, and I threw that away.” Takashi was still making a face at him, but at least resisted the immediate urge to retort against Adam’s words. 

“Well, I’m not dead,” the paladin started, earning a bitter snort. “And my condition’s… gone, thanks to alien tech. I might not be able to return to Earth anytime soon, but. When I do, would you maybe want to… make up for lost time.” Adam stared for a moment, a long moment, before letting out a fond sigh. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’d love that.” Takashi beamed, and Adam felt the last hints of his walls cave. “Okay, spaceboy, don’t look too eager. I still need the deets on what you’ve been up to.” He looked around. “I should probably leave the break room for that, though.” 

—

Inside the Black Lion’s quintessence, Shiro felt a sudden river of emotion. Sitting up, he drew a closer, curious look. While not exactly the biggest fan of his clone, he also wasn’t keen to waste the rare glimpses into reality he got. Reaching for the emotion, he tugged, gaining a momentary glimpse through the imposter’s eyes. 

“You have got,” he breathed out, in utter disbelief, “to be fucking kidding me.”

—

Veronica listened, silent and contemplative, throughout her baby brother’s explanation. She was pretty sure the image was, in fact, Lance, at least- particularly as he went on. Deep fakes had come a long way, sure, but there were some things machines simply couldn’t predict in the same way a human could. Mostly because developing anything along those lines was very, very illegal. Perhaps aliens were different, but she found herself convinced anyway. 

She had a feeling the Admiral’s sudden interrogation made a little more sense, with this added context. The realization that the eleven months her family had spent, trying their best to heal the edges of a gaping hole, were based entirely off of lies… well. She couldn’t exactly say it was a realization she was taking well, though she’d been doing a good job keeping it off her face, for the moment. 

She certainly didn’t blame those not doing so, however. Lance had expressed his own disgust over their cover story, and apologies for leaving his family behind without explanation- something else she refused to place blame over. Except squarely at the Garrison. 

“By the way, Ronnie,” Lance cut in, as his explanation reached the present, and a contemplative quiet began to settle over them. He squinted at where she assumed her face sat on his screen. “Why’s it so dark where you are? Is it night, or something?” 

“I’m hiding in a storage closet,” she confessed, earning raised eyebrows from Lance, but more-or-less understanding from the rest of her familia. “I’m at work.”

“Oh. I… forgot about that stuff.” A few sighs and remarks echoed throughout the connection, poking lightheartedly at Lancito. 

“I’m at work, at the Garrison.” That certainly got his attention, Lance’s entire phase shifting to reveal his shock. “I figured, whatever’s going on, it’s probably something I shouldn’t just let any officer catch a glimpse of over my shoulder.”

“No kidding,” her brother wheezed, looking a little like his life flashed before his eyes. “Why the hell’re you working at the Garrison?!”

“Ronnie wanted to be in-the-know about the whole aliens thing,” Marco interjected, smirking. “Maybe if you called a couple of days earlier, she wouldn’t have bothered.” Veronica rolled her eyes. 

“On that note,” she said, “I do have something to ask you about.” She hadn’t made any special connections about that suspicious email address sent to her, except that it was a fake, but a new link had made itself clear during Lance’s run-down. See, Veronica wasn’t a space nerd like her brother. So the name in ‘[email protected]ıson.wsc’ didn’t register until Lance mentioned the names of the Kerberos crew in passing. 

Lance didn’t seem entirely surprised, when she revealed that one of said crew members had reached out to her, remarking that he’d asked ‘Shiro’ about her as well.

“I don’t know why, though,” Lance added. “I forgot to ask.” Veronica shrugged, though she couldn’t deny feeling a little disquieted. 

“Well, make sure to do so next time.” Really, between this guy and the Admiral, Veronica wouldn’t be surprised if some series of coincidences looped her into yet another- well. Whatever you can consider anything that’s happened thus far. Honestly.

“Ack!” She heard exclaimed through one of the smaller views. Lisa suddenly disappeared from view, and Raquel ducked down.
“What’s happening?” Lance asked, apprehension clear on his face- Veronica could feel it in her stomach, too. 

“Silvio! Nadia! Get your hands out of that ice cream!”

Veronica couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of her. Man, of all the problems to have right now… 

Then, a growing beam of light caught the side of her face, the door of the storage closet sliding open with a quiet whoosh. Veronica’s head snapped around, and she came face-to-face with a uniformed officer. 

—

“Your Excellency,” Qadir greeted, his voice cutting cleanly through the quiet room. Jacqueline’s fingers stopped, the sound of typing fading as she directed her full attention towards her assistant. 

“What now?” She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. “Don’t tell me we’ve got more problems- the absolute mess Tián’s deposited on my desk is going to take forever to clean up already.” Qadir winced, turning his tablet to face her. A digital globe floated before her, with several points connecting the planet to outer space. They weren’t evenly distributed, though, most of them concentrating around… She groaned, dragging her hands down her face. 

“That’s our Arizona Base, isn’t it.” 

Jacqueline had, admittedly, never felt much towards Admiral Sanda in the decades they’d brushed past each other, however the past several hours had quite staunchly rectified that mistake. And then continued to. 

“Yes and no,” her assistant said, zooming in on the converging beams. “While at least two point towards the inside of the base, most of the others are more located in the general area, such as the nearby city.” If anything, that made her scowl deepen. 

“I’m going to have to work with Tián on this incident too, aren’t I?” The thought of her fellow Deputy-Secretary-General’s secretly smug face made her blood boil. 

“Hopefully not for too long? I mean-” the image projected on the tablet fizzed out for a moment, and her heart sank. Sure enough, a moment later, it was replaced with another image entirely. 

—

“... And so that’s what we’re planning to do. Or, well, are doing,” Hunk rambled, as his family listened attentively. “It’s not projecting to your guys’ screens, since we wanted to talk to our families personally, but we set up a second broadcast to start playing in the middle of this, so that we can wrestle things back under our control. It’s been really interesting, honestly, figuring out how to connect the rest of the universe’s stuff to Earth’s. Man, Pidge and I-”

“Pidge is the green one, right?” Malosi asked, brows furrowed in concentration as he hung onto his cousin’s every word. 

“Yup! Bingo, little man. We’re a bit of a dynamic duo, y’know, she’s an expert at software, I make the hardware, and boom, magic!”

—

“Uh.”

“Well, this is a little awkward.” Veronica and the officer stared at each other for a moment, blank-faced. Long enough for the people on each of their respective lines to start to grow concerned. 

“Adam? Is everything okay?”

“Ronnie, please say you did not just get busted.” Veronica started as she heard a voice echo from the phone in the officer’s hand, and winced when Lance’s voice erupted from her own. ‘Adam’ seemed equally surprised, though his eyes narrowed after a moment. However, he wasn’t the only person to notice that something was off. 

“Wait,” Lance continued. “Shiro?”
“Lance?” The other voice asked in turn. 

“Oh my god,” Adam breathed. “Are you also being contacted by a supposedly dead loved one?” 

.

.

.

“Never speak of this?” Honestly, what a fucking first day. 

“Sure. Shove over, though- there aren’t any other good hiding places in this damn base.” 

—

Meanwhile, the world over were having their own revelations, as the universal truth was being laid out before them. The extent of the Galra Empire, and the history attached, the work of Voltron, and the sheer vastness of the world they found themselves in laid out for all to see. 

“Let me be clear,” the image of Allura stated, her built-in translator allowing the words to be understandable across languages. “The Galra Empire are not a problem Earth can ignore, just because they haven’t come knocking. One day they will arrive, and your planet will need to be ready. Luckily, Voltron is willing to lend a hand.”

Hopefully, Earth’s officials would be willing to grab it.