It’s been a year since the Kerberos mission. No one knows what happened to the crew. They were considered missing… until today.
”Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14. Begin descent to Kerberos for rescue mission.” The confident, slightly cocky tone of a teenager is heard loud and clear as the space ship begins its descent to the icy moon.
A large, dark-skinned boy with an orange bandana and dark brown, almost black, hair holds the expression of one getting motion sick. Which is true for the poor teen. “Lance, can you keep this thing straight?” He groans out, worry of puking what he ate ringing softly in his voice.
The boy in front of him, ‘Lance’, who is clearly the pilot for this mission, responds as if there’s nothing to worry about, “Relax, Hunk. I’m just getting a feel of the stick. It’s not like I did this!” He says as he speeds the ship downwards.
’Hunk’ continues to try to keep it together, obviously getting worse as time progresses.
“Or this!” Lance then jerks the ship to his right, making Hunk lean out of his chair.
Groaning, Hunk straightens himself as the ship does the same and attempts to get Lance to stop, “Okay, unless you want to wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies of this thing, you better knock it off, man!”
”I personally do not wish to suffer the smell of beef stroganoff and have to clean it. So please knock it off, Lance. I admit you’re making me a little motion sick.” A girl with bright (e/c) irises pipes up from the right of Lance.
“We’ve picked up a distress beacon!” A small boy with honey eyes and short golden hair draws their attention to the screen in front of him, which showcases the location of said beacon.
”All right, look alive, team! Pidge, track coordinates.” Lance coolly gives out the task for the small boy.
”Copy.” The boy named Pidge wastes no time in carrying out his job.
As he does so, the ship began to shake, not really helping with Hunk. “Knock it off, Lance! Please!” He begs Lance to make it stop while a computer starts to beep, warning them of something wrong.
Lance looks back at the big guy, quick to deflect the blame of the shaking back at him, “This one’s on you, buddy. It’s not me.”
“Unfortunately, Hunk, he’s right. One of our hydraulic stabilizers are out.” The only female crew member points out, eyes flickering between a screen on the dash in front of her and the front of the ship. She would help him, but she is currently trying to make sure that they don’t crash and that nothing else is going to fail on them and need fixing. She’s the co-pilot, that’s her job.
Hearing what she said in the beginning, Lance’s head snaps towards hers, “What do you mean 'unfortunately', (Y/n)?”
”Not important right now, Lance.” (Y/n) brushes off the matter like it never occurred.
Realizing that as the engineer, he'd need to fix it, Hunk grabs his computer to see how bad the damage was. A rough jostle nearly sent him over the edge. Gulping, his face showed dread, “Oh no…”
Hearing this, Lance questions what he meant before realizing, “Oh no- Fix now, puke later.”
”I lost contact. The shaking is interfering with our sensors.” Pidge informs the crew of what the situation was.
YOU ARE READING
The Orange Paladin
Fanfiction(Keith x Reader) Being the co-pilot for a dysfunctional group is tiring, especially when you get dragged into a struggle that has been going on for 10,000 years. Finding old acquaintances, making new friendships, and avoiding near death experiences...
