"Graduation"

Part of the reason Lance took a liking to Hunk was because Hunk seemed just as insecure as he. The main difference between them was that Lance usually kept up an air of confidence, while Hunk didn't do much to hide his insecurity. He constantly and consistently voiced his fears and concerns, which caused physical symptoms even more severe than Lance's hyperactivity.

Hunk became almost paralyzed with nervousness before exams, and only somewhat less so in the interval between taking the test and receiving the results. Lance had his share of anxiety too—studying was always a grueling, frustrating endeavor for him—but when he finished an exam, it was such a great weight off his shoulders, he wanted to put it behind him and move on. He tried to distract Hunk with jokes and junk food while they waited for their results. Once they arrived, Lance insisted on taking Hunk out to eat, either to console themselves after doing poorly, or to celebrate doing well.

When the Galaxy Garrison announced that the Kerberos mission was missing and presumed dead, it really shook up the students and their families. Friends and relatives who had been supportive of this vocation began to doubt, and everyone who had been skeptical of it from the start justified, albeit in the worst way possible. It was a wake-up call that astronauts could not be mediocre, as Lance and Hunk usually felt. The nature of the field they had chosen for their careers did not guarantee second chances.

On the other hand, it also showed that the Galaxy Garrison and its employees were not perfect, which made Lance feel a less inferior and more relaxed about occasionally breaking the rules. Thinking they might not be strictly enforced, he coaxed Hunk into joining him in different adventures, which landed them in the principal's office on more than one occasion. Lance largely laughed these episodes off as material for future anecdotes.

Then, one day, word spread that Keith, the best pilot in the student body, had been expelled. There were conflicting reports of the cause: some students said he had lashed out physically, others said verbally, and some said it was an accumulation of various minor infractions rather than a single major transgression. Whatever the case, it showed that even talent did not guarantee one's place in the program. For Lance, who had relegated to the class of cargo pilots, it was a sobering reminder of how expendable he was. Only Keith's empty seat in the fighter class allowed him to move up to that elite group. Lance would have preferred to be there for different reasons, but at least he got to be there at all. Getting an opportunity for a bad reason was better than not getting any at all.

He and Hunk were pleased to find out they would be on the same simulation crew. Only two things could dampen their high spirits after receiving the news. The first was Pidge's rejection of their invitation to hang out, an exchange that became almost routine over the course of the semester. The second were the snide comments people made about their crew.

"They put the smartest cadets with the dumbest, to balance things out." Pidge, who apparently had skipped a few grades, was undoubtedly one of the smartest students, but Lance and Hunk were not sure which of them was thought to be the dumbest. For the sake of preserving their friendship, they did not attempt to find out.

"They always group the weirdest, least-promising cadets together." That almost sounded like it could be true. Lance had ADHD and was statistically the worst pilot of the class. Hunk's anxiety tended to exacerbate his weak stomach, so he hungered quickly and became nauseous easily. Pidge was probably the youngest student at the Garrison, and gave an impression of being irritable and antisocial.

Strangely, these flaws and quirks, and their repeated failures in the simulator brought them a sense of solidarity. They were misfits, but they could be misfits together. Even when they were not connecting or cooperating, it was nice to know that they felt the same way, that they were not alone.

Becoming paladins of Voltron changed many things, including their perceptions of themselves and each other.

Lance found that his mind's hyperactivity kept him sharp during battle, especially when acting as a sniper. His tendency to be easily distracted, so aggravating when trying to study, helped him notice when danger approached. Even his humor, which gave many people an impression of immaturity, helped alleviate tension and buoy the team's spirits when the pressures of the war weighed on them.

It turned out Hunk possessed a surprising ability to endure and recover from hardship. On top of that, his sensitive stomach and acute taste buds proved advantageous when determining which alien foodstuffs were safe for Earthlings to consume.

Pidge's overly analytical mindset and impeccable organizational habits enabled her to identify obscure patterns and solve difficult problems. Her perfectionistic streak, so annoying to many Garrison students, drove her to make valuable scientific breakthroughs. Even her diminutive size came in handy from time to time.

Despite having been accepted to such an elite, competitive, specialized school, the three of them were used to being underdogs. Now they possessed more physical and metaphysical power than they ever dreamed could exist, let alone be theirs. Yet sometimes, despite their frequent victories, they still felt like underdogs. In a way, they were, in fact, underdogs of the whole universe. After all, what was a handful of successful missions and battles compared Zarkon's ten-thousand-year war of conquest?

It was hard to judge whether being Voltron paladins was easier or more difficult than being Garrison students. The two situations involved different kinds of stress and comfort. But one thing was certain: the three teammates felt a greater sense of unity and belonging at the Castle of Lions than at the Galaxy Garrison.

Overall, they did not miss the school much. Pidge had not been happy during her time there, partly because of the circumstances that led her there, and partly because she never bothered to try. Though Lance had usually maintained an upbeat attitude, he had struggled to keep up academically and fit in socially. Hunk had suffered many moments of embarrassment there. But every now and then it came up in conversation, and sometimes they almost felt nostalgic for the place. They could now associate it with their innocent, inexperienced past selves.

One morning (they called it morning because it followed their designated sleeping period), Hunk sought out Lance and Pidge to share something with them. He had waited until he had a moment with just them, because the others would not be able to relate. Allura and Coran might feel bad for keeping them away from their Earth institutions. As for Shiro and Keith, Hunk was not sure how they now felt about the Garrison, but talking about it around them make them feel annoyed, or angry, or sad.

"Last night I dreamed we were still at the Garrison, and I hadn't studied for the big final, and the simulator turned into a real ship that Lance crashed …"

"That part's realistic," Pidge said under her breath, still typing at her keyboard.

"Dude," Lance said, smirking incredulously, "you've survived alien attacks and infiltrated war zones, and you still get worked up about school?"

"The dream didn't get me worked up," Hunk protested. "But it got me thinking about some things … that did get me worked up."

"Like what?"

"Well, what if, after the war's over and we go back to Earth, we went back to the Garrison and asked to finish our courses there? Do you think they'd take us back, or let us walk at graduation?" Hunk asked.

Now Pidge looked up from her computer. "After we ran away? I doubt it."

"So what if we ran away?" Lance said. "We'll be going home as war heroes!"

"Yeah, that's why I can't figure what's more likely," Hunk agreed.

"They'll probably want to use us to endorse the Garrison. Like, tell people, 'If you come here you might become as awesome as us!'"

"Yeah, I'm sure they'll want us to give the impression that we support them," Pidge said with an edge to her voice.

"Maybe they'll give us honorary degrees or something," Hunk speculated.

"Even if they make an offer," Pidge said flatly, "I won't accept it. Not after everything they did to my family. We were part of their community for years, and they turned their backs on us. After that, I didn't feel like I belonged there."

A moment of silence followed this admission. Hunk and Lance knew their own mixed feelings about the Garrison were weak compared to Pidge's. Thankfully, she ended the awkward pause by shrugging and saying, "We've learned more about science, history, politics, and military tactics than anyone who's ever gone through the Garrison. Does it really matter whether we get their certification?"

Lance thought hard. "I guess if graduation is meant to mark a beginning … we've already begun our careers as astronauts, so it's kind of … what's the word …"

"Moot?" Pidge suggested. "Unnecessary? An afterthought?"

Lance nodded. "Yeah."

"It's a ceremony," Hunk protested.

"Exactly. It's a nice event, but it doesn't actually change anything. They just put on a show and give you a piece of paper to make it seem official."

"It's a celebration! Everyone who supports you shows up to … show they support you. Recognize what you've done. You know, 'cause they can't all do that on a regular basis."

"My family does—or did," Pidge said. "When Matt was a student, we called and wrote letters and visited all the time. Even when I was there, and my mom was worrying about me all the time, she still supported my choice and told me she was proud of me."

"I mean extended family," Hunk amended.

"My extended family sent me care packages to show their support," Lance bragged. "Remember that Mardi Gras gift basket? My whole familia chipped in on that."

The memory of candy bars and plastic necklaces distracted Hunk momentarily. "Oh yeah, that was nice," he remembered. "But my relatives are scattered across different islands in the Pacific. We hardly ever see each other, except for major, once-in-a-lifetime events."

"Well, your homecoming after winning an intergalactic war will give them plenty of reason to celebrate," Pidge pointed out.

"Hm, I guess that's true," Hunk conceded. "It's just … I guess I want some kind of affirmation that the time we spent there and the work we did was worthwhile."

"Well, it did bring us together," Lance reflected. "That's something."

Pidge smiled. "Yeah, a much better recompense than a diploma."

"We all owe a lot to the Garrison," Hunk insisted. "It helped all five of us get ready to explore space. And if we hadn't been there, we wouldn't have seen Shiro crash-land nearby, so we wouldn't have been able to rescue him and find the Blue Lion."

Pidge adjusted her glasses. "Yeah, I'm still trying to figure out how that all worked out—the Garrison, crash site, and Blue Lion all being so close in proximity. The astronomical improbability—"

"English, Pidge," Lance interrupted rudely.

She scowled, but rephrased in lay terms. "It was too convenient to be a coincidence."

"Maybe you and Keith should compare your conspiracy theories," Lance said, only half joking.

"Wait—I need to finish telling you guys about the dream," Hunk insisted. "So we failed the simulator portion of the test, and then we had to take the written portion. But before they were graded, some Galra fighters showed up, and they incinerated the room that had all the tests in it!" Lance and Pidge's chuckles contrasted with Hunk's distress. He waited until they were straight-faced again before he continued. "And when I woke up, I realized something." He looked somberly at his two friends. "You remember how Allura said the Galra might eventually invade Earth?"

"Yeah," Lance remembered, "she said it was inevitable."

"I heard Sendak mention something about it, when he took over the Castle," Pidge informed them. "Something about seeing if the rest of our people are like us paladins."

"Well," Hunk said, "if the Galra attack Earth, the Garrison will be on the front lines to fend them off."

This idea surprised Lance and Pidge into silence. It was obvious, when they thought about it, yet it was so impractical it had not occurred to them.. Hunk looked at them, and they looked at each other, unsure how to react. It was uncomfortable. It was laughable. It was frightening.

Finally Pidge spoke up, her voice laced with an unpleasant blend of humor, derision, and grimness. "Well, then it's a good thing we have Voltron, because if the fate of our planet rested on the Garrison, it'd be doomed. Between the Galra's advanced technology, the Garrison's bureaucracy, and their utter lack of fighting skills …"

"Isn't that kind of harsh?" Lance interrupted. "I mean, your dad worked for them. And look at Shiro—he's a product of the Garrison, and he became a champion gladiator."

"Did you watch the monitor when Keith broke into that hospital? He took out all those adult military guys in about five seconds."

"Well, Keith was also a student, so that kind of supports my argument," Lance pointed out. "Plus, he had a few advantages. They were wearing those bulky haz-mat suits, and he's descended from one of the strongest alien races in the universe …"

"You really can't stand to hear that he's good at anything, can you?" Pidge shook her head disdainfully and began to type at her keyboard again. "My brother and I used to be like that, until my dad convinced us we'd get more done by working together than competing with each other."

"Well, you might have to take that advice if we have to team up with the Garrison to defend Earth," Hunk said mildly.

Pidge stopped typing and opened her mouth to retort, but then closed it, realizing that he had a point—or rather, she had to apply her own point to a different situation.

"I wouldn't worry about Earth," Lance said finally. "By the time the Galra take an interest in it, we'll have so many allies from other planets, the Garrison won't need to bother helping us."

"I hope you're right," Pidge said.

"I hope they never get that far," Hunk put in.

Lance nodded. "It's up to us to make sure they don't."

Author's Notes

Lance's Mardi Gras gift basket appears in my short story cycle, "Catholic Means Universal."

I wrote this story for the fanzine Space Cadets: A Garrison Trio Zine. Check out its Tumblr and Twitter pages to learn more about it!