Peeling Covers: Lance

02. Quiet, Norm, and Break PT.2

Lance's Turn:

As Pidge comes up the stairs to the panel room, Lance addresses what he already knows in the safety of his mind: The team positions were already just about decided. Four weeks on a team with bayards that still only had one form left the following:

Shiro was the leader: close combat and strategy.

Keith was Shiro's right hand (literally): also close combat and versatile; back up or lead as needed.

Pidge was the left hand: stealth and strategy delegation; usually logistics .

Hunk was the foundation: cover fire and long range versatility; back up or lead as needed.

This meant there was a need for another long range combatant, primarily if at all possible. Lance could do that, but the team was still vacant an objective scope to oversee the operations. A counter-point, as Lance had learned in his past team...

Making it to the bottom, Lance sheds his armor plates and prepares for the first event with some jumping jacks. His mind wanders back to the assessment.

So he couldn't move as a close range fighter, the team needed another long range specialist. His bayard called for it too, so it is easy to fall back on that. Which should settle his mind: no need for a guilt trip over not using the close combat maneuvers he learned before the Garrison. 

It wasn't like he was purposefully hiding them... they just weren't needed to solidify his reputation as an easy pick as a long range fighter. For the good of the team, Lance would adapt.

He was a good shooter anyway. A sharpshooter. He could do it. Plus, with the whole team of Voltron green as you could get, there wasn't anyone else lance could trust to watch their backs out of them right now. So this was good.

Lance stops his jumping jacks and stands, ready.

Lance would be long range: reliable and steady, in mind and aim; a sharpshooter. A counter-point: Long range cover fire and perimeter control. 

No need to stress about his potential for once, Lance could cover all of Voltron's weaknesses. He was good for that. He would do it.

Now all Lance had to do was prove himself enough that the team would rely on him to do so.

No pressure.

Click. "Are you ready, Lance?" Coran asks through the speakers.

"I'm ready- steady Coran! Let's get this show on the road." Lance calls up amicably, rolling his shoulders. Everyone else is up in the panel room, watching.

"Okay lad, sprint to the green light and pass it as fast as you can."

Lance took a breath. Running. That was... doable. Just no pushing it straight out of the gate.

Lance crouches into position, one leg bent behind the other, torso forward with his arms tucked.

Then. He's off! Sprinting with long, reaching strides, Lance breezes past the finish line before jogging in place keep warming up. He can feel the slight burning in his legs from the sprint, but deeper breaths help calm it down. 

There wasn't a need to show he could move quickly to be chosen as a long range fighter anyway.

Click. "Good job, lad!" Coran compliments, as he did with everyone else. "Now proceed to the weights, placing both hands on the bar, feet and hands near shoulder width apart. You'll have to lift it and set it down, the weights will automatically increase depending on how swiftly you lift them."