//ON HOLD// Voltron Legendary Defender: Let's Try This Again (Season 1)

Chapter 1

"Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14. Begin descent to Kerberos for a rescue mission." The pilot began the small cargo ship's descent to the moon quickly and at a rocky pace.

    "Ugh...Lance, can you keep this thing straight?" The large guy behind the pilot groaned.

    "Relax Hunk," Lance replied from the pilot's seat. "I'm just getting a feel for the stick. It's not like I did this!" The ship took an abrupt dive downward, triggering a mass of groans and moans from the dark-haired boy behind the pilot.

    "Or this!" The ship swerved again. And again.

    "Guhh! Okay!" Hunk said in finality." Unless you want to wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies in this thing, you'd better knock it off, man?" Hunk's dark complexion didn't hide the sickly gray on his face, which was in contrast to his bright orange bandana. His stomach's sensitivity was bad enough with a calm, reasonable pilot, with Lance it was in shambles.

    A sound comes from the other side of the ship. "We've picked up a distress beacon!" A boy with round glasses called out to his companions from the other side of the tiny ship. The light brunette made up the last of their mission crew.

    "All right, look alive, team!" The tanned guy flipped the controls of the pilot's seat, "Pidge, track coordinates."

    "Copy."

    "Knock it off, Lance! Please!" Hunk begged.

    Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

    "This one's on you, buddy. We've got a hydraulic stabilizer out." Lance stated. Hunk pulled the mobile screen from his left and dragged it in front of him, but before he could tap it a rock went through the ship causing his entire body to hunch over. He gulped and his face scrunched up. "Oh, no."

    "Oh, no!" Lance snapped. "Fix now, puke later."

    "I lost contact." The light brunette spoke out as they entered the moon's atmosphere. "The shaking is interfering with our sensors." Pidge informed Lance.

    "Come on, Hunk!"

    "It's not responding. Ugh..." Hunk stood up. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP

    "Never mind, fellas. Thar she blows. Preparing for approach on visual."

    "I don't think that's advisable," Pidge warned the dark brunette, "with our current mechanical and...gastrointestinal issues."

    "Agreed." Hunk inputted hovering over the open gearbox, gagging.

    "Stop worrying. This baby can take it, can't you, champ?" Lance patted the console but retracted his hand quickly when the ship rumbled and groaned. "See? She's nodding. She was nodding."

    "Pidge, hail down to them and let them know their ride is here."

Pidge unbuckled his seatbelt, stood up and grabbed the mic. "Attention lunar vessel GAHH-" As the ship rocked he was knocked off his balance and sent crashing to the floor.

"What are you doing?! Buckle your belt. And, Hunk, stop that shaking!"

"I'm tryi-na Oh, no." He gags and hurls into the open gear box.

"Attention, lunar vessel," Pidge said into the mic, having recovered from his fall and gotten back in his seat. "This is Galaxy Garrison Rescue Craft One Victor Six Three Tango. Coming in for landing and extraction, against crew recommendations."

"No time for your mutinous comments now. They're going under and we're going in." Lance said. By now they have passed the moon's atmosphere. All that this far away moon held was an icy terrain tinted blue and filled with ridges, hills, and mountains. It's how you would expect Earth to look if it were in an ice age.

"Look out for that overhang!" Pidge warns, looking at the natural born obstacle cross ahead of them through the front window.

"No worries. My first year in flight school, know what they called me? They called me 'The Tailor' because of how I thread the needle." He grinned as he rotated the ship sideways and sped up. The crew called out, trying to hold onto nearby surfaces as the beeping only got louder.

"Come around, come around." Lance muttered. "Come on, Come on-"

CRASH

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

"We lost a wing!" Hunk yelled.

"Oh, man." Lance signed resignedly.

The beeping ship, out of control, flew into one of the icy walls and crashed.

All the lights went out for a brief second before the crew was bathed in the red glow of the words "Simulation Failed" which was also repeated to them by the intercom, in case they haven't noticed yet.

"Nice work, Tailor." Pidge says from his slouched position on his seat.

The door behind them rolls open, light cutting through the shameful darkness.

"Roll out donkeys!"

                    ~~~

    "Let's see if we can't use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you students. Can anyone point out the mistakes these three so-called cadets made in the simulator?"

The three so-called cadets in question were standing, backs straight and foreheads sweating, in front of Commander Iverson, who towered above them in his uniform, on the bridge connecting the simulator to the outside ring of the Simulation Chamber. On the outside ring stood the group of students Commander Iverson was addressing, watching the three cadets get scrutinized.

A hand among the observing students raised, "The engineer puked in the main gearbox."

"Yes. As everyone knows, vomit is not an approved lubricant for engine systems." The burly man snapped and glared at Hunk, who flinched in fear. "What else?"

"The com spec removed his safety harness."

"The pilot crashed!" An eager girl called out.

"Correct. And worst of all, the whole jump, they're arguing with each other. Heck, if you're going to be this bad individually, you'd better at least be able to work as a team!" Commander Iverson scolded the three cadets, whose eyes were all trained down in shame.

"Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets like you into the next generation of elite astro-explorers," Commander Iverson continued. "But these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what cost the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission."

Pidge's face hardens and he grits out with anger in his undertones, "That's not true sir!"

"What did you say?" The beast of a man focused his one good eye on the short, scrawny teen. Before Pidge could say anymore, and possibly dig himself further into this hole, Lance covered his mouth with his hand.

"Sorry, sir! I think he hit his head when he fell out of chair. But point taken." He finishes with a nervous smile, before letting Pidge go and quickly getting back in position.

"I hope I don't need to remind you," The man stocks up close to Lance, "that the only reason you're here is that the best pilot in your class had a discipline issue and flunked out. Don't follow in his footsteps. Lance's face had fallen, mouth turned downward, and sweat was visible on his forehead. The commander turned away from Lance, and towards the rest of the class.

"Next!"

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