Of The Stars

Chapter 1: Culture Shock

Keith loved flying; his dream had always been to be a pilot. There was just something about the rush of pushing a pod to its limits, feeling that burst of adrenaline as his heart rate spiked and his senses came alive at the touch of the controls. He was a gifted pilot with a natural affinity and passion and he'd flown multiple types of pods, speeders, and even an entire ship once. But he had never been on anything quite like his father's craft.

For starters, he'd only ever flown in a closed cabin, and while this craft was moving at a fraction of the speed he was used to, it felt substantially faster. The open air whipping against his cheeks and flinging his hair all around him as it pulled the breath from his lungs and made the high of adrenaline even more intense. Some would say their rapidly beating heart and flipping stomach was unbearable, Keith would call it intoxicating. He had deactivated his mask once again in an effort to feel the flight of their craft. But as the grains of sand bit into his skin, he reluctantly activated his mask for protection from the onslaught as his father hit the throttle, propelling them across the desert.

They arrived at what could only be described as a repurposed storage unit made entirely of wood. His father parked the craft and pulled a large beige tarp over it to protect from the constantly blowing sand. Keith adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and followed him inside the shack. There was a single bedroom straight ahead with its door slightly to the right, and a small bathroom directly to the left of it. In the main room sat a dusty old couch under a four-panel window on his left, a wooden table sitting in front of it, and a brown leather couch in the corner. A black screen hung on the wall across from the couch, directly beside the door that led into the bathroom. On the right of the main room was a kitchen, but 'kitchen' was being generous. It was a single line style kitchen that had a refrigeration unit on the right, a sink centred under a single panel window, and a stove on the left. There was a round wooden table with four wooden chairs in the centre of the open space.

Between the two doors on the far wall was a picture, one that was clearly drawn by a very small child. It depicted a small family, where the man was drawn with pink wax, the woman was drawn with purple wax, and the child was drawn with red wax. The three figures were standing in a large brown blob that he assumed was one of the nearby caves, and in the background was a blue ... whatever that is ... a cat maybe?

"You drew that fer me 'bout a week or so before ya'll left." His father had moved to stand beside him, a strong hand resting on Keith shoulder.

He snorted. "It's terrible."

"It's adorable ya little shit." Keith burst out laughing, turning to face his father. "Take down that damn mask, it's off puttin'." He'd actually completely forgotten that he'd even reactivated it to begin with.

Dissolving the mask he heard a loud whistling sound come from the man standing before him. It sounded like the trajectory of a falling object. Such a weird thing to do. He quirked an eyebrow at his father and was met with a wide stare. "Woo Wee you ever look like yer mother. Well minus the purple skin of course." The man chuckled and Keith rolled his eyes. "Alright, first things first kiddo, we've gotta undo the damage being raised in space did. Can't have my alien son actin' like a weirdo when he gets to the Garrison."

"I'm not going to this 'Garrison'. I'm finding the Blue Lion of Voltron and returning to the Blades."

"Nope. Ol' Blue ain't goin' nowhere without her paladin. She's never let down her barrier fer no one."

"Then I'll search for this paladin." Rolling his eyes once again as he replied.

"If yer lookin' fer a pilot then you should check the local military run flight school." Keith nodded in agreement and his father whooped. "So, looks like yer headin' to the Garrison. Guess I was right all along." The devilish smirk on his face was all too familiar.