Chapter Text
At one point in the galaxy’s long expansive history, Alteans were leaders of innovation and technology. They went where no one else dared, pushed barriers until they broke, made something out of nothing and blew the minds of their allies when they chose to share their knowledge rather than horde it. They traversed the deepest pockets of space, discovering planets and species and making friends with all that would have them. They truly were magnificent.
Or had been.
The divide between the ancient race and it’s modern descendants was more prevalent than ever as Lance stared at the console before him confused and desperate and running out of time. Alarms were blaring, red light enveloping the interior of the escape pod as the hanger slowly opened. He didn’t have much time before Lotor’s goons found him and he had to have this thing airborne by then or he’d never make it out.
So...
Press all the buttons until something happened?
Yeah. Solid plan.
The sound of soldiers had just hit his ears when he slammed his palm to the console and the escape pod finally sputtered to life. Without thinking he grabbed the throttle and shoved it forward causing the pod to shoot out of the hanger and into space. He only had a moment to admire the view, having never been off of the Alteans’ small hidden planet, before something slammed into the side of the pod and sent him reeling.
Quiznak that was fast! Already fighter jets were shooting out after him, lasers hot. He figured he shouldn’t be surprised. His escape would compromise Lotor’s entire operation if he made it back to the surface. No more worship, no more secrecy, nowhere to hide.
It had been luck that Lance regained consciousness before they’d made it to the facility the Galran prince was keeping the Alteans in. Even more luck that his containment pod had a loose panel which made it easy to listen in on the guards’ conversation and eventually escape. He was shocked to hear their plans, that the new colony was nothing but a sick joke, that the Alteans were kept like live stock, suspended in pods that drained of their very essence to farm energy for the prince. His only thought was he had to escape and he had to warn his people.
Too bad he had absolutely no idea how to fly. How does he go down? Where even was his planet?
“Come on you stupid hunk of junk! Take me home!” He cursed as another blast hit the small particle barrier. Followed by another, and another. He was sweating in the plug suit they’d dressed them all in and had to readjust his hands as they slipped on the throttle. Anxiety gripped him. He couldn’t hear past the thudding of his heart. The barrier went down. The throttle jerked. He saw his planet finally but only because it’s gravitational pull was yanking his pod in at an uncontrollable nose dive.
Blasters behind, impact ahead. There was no escaping it. Not for someone so inexperienced. He was going to die and it’d all be for naught unless someone found him before the Galrans. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth.
A bright flash and the booming of the lasers was gone.
His eyes open. He was still careening downward. They must have seen his trajectory and decided he was doomed either way. The ground rapidly grew closer. This was it.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”
He slammed into the earth and everything went dark.
—
“What is this?”
“How would I know, I saw what you saw!”
“Geez it’s called a rhetorical question.”
“Guys, come on. I think there’s someone in there.”
“In the alien space ship? Is it an alien?!”
“I don’t know. Looks... normal? Like a boy. You think this was just a failed re-entry from Russia or something?”
“This tech doesn’t look Russian.”
“How would you know?”
“Are you saying it does?”
“Don’t start again you two! We need to get him out of here. He looks hurt and the last thing we want is for the Garrison to find him first.”
“Why not? They’re trained for this space stuff aren’t they?”
“Well yeah but I can’t imagine they’d be thrilled to find this kid at the center of a crash landing in an unidentifiable craft. He’d be quarantined and probably questioned! In a not so great sense.”
“And why is that bad-OW! What the hell’d you do that for?”
“You really saying leave this kid to the Garrison?”
“It was just a thought...”
“No. He needs medical attention, not an inquiry. Now help me out and grab an arm!”
—
Lance’s vision swam. His visor was cracked setting a violent fracture over the world before him. He saw movement, heard talking. It was incomprehensible, sounding and feeling as if he were underwater, the pressure pushing in and around him until he was ready to burst. Something grabbed him but he had no strength the react. The only thing he did have was confirmation that he survived the crash. He was alive somehow.
Where even was he though? These people didn’t feel Altean. They felt... quiet, as if there was a void where their quintensense should be. Maybe it wasn’t a void, but a reading he’s never felt before?
Either way it was worrying.
If they found out he was Altean, would they report it to the Galrans? Foolish Lance. Selfishly escapes hoping to save his people only to endanger them even more. He’d panic if he weren’t so tired and dizzy.
He felt himself being taken out of the pod and being carefully placed in some kind of vehicle. His helmet came unlatched. Please let these creatures be friendly.
His vision goes dark again.
—
Luck really was on Lance’s side. While he had no clue how to hide his Altean heritage, his body did. Some kind of primordial instinct that never died out over generations of evolution activating in defense of it’s host. His hair darkened, ears shrank and rounded out, and his marks turned a more natural color, almost but not quite matching his skin tone.
Aside from his plug suit and helmet, he looked human.
—