Pike

How It All Began

Please note! The art included is NOT mine! Credit to all you lovely artists who made them, I'm sorry I don't know your names to properly credit you!

(Lance)

*5 years later*

The blue-gray alien ahead of Lance snarled, teeth bared and eyes full of rage. He knew Hirej was only pretending, but you could have fooled him. The crowd surrounding them shouted with glee, anticipating the oncoming fight.

"On the red side, we have here a Balmeran-Galra hybrid, former labor slave and favorite here in The Dens! On the blue side is an Earthling, another fan favorite and labor slave who has yet to lose a fight, despite losing a limb. Who will lose this one? 3... 2... 1... KILL!" the announcer proclaimed, and Hirej lunged at Lance full force. Still off balance and adjusting to his new prosthetic, Lance was barely able to slip out of the way. He cursed at himself, remembering the plan. Take a hit, play dead, get thrown in the waste pile, and break out the others. He already failed the first step.

Hirej turned, eyeing Lance with a confused and yet understanding look. He knows it's instinct by now, Lance thought. Lance faked a jab at his friend, which Hirej returned with a VERY real throw across the small ring. He hit a beam with a loud CRACK which Lance knew was a rib or two. But he bit back a shout, hoping they thought it was his neck or spine, and that he was dead.

They believed it.

The crowd screamed with triumphant joy, and Lance heard the familiar *tink* of GAC being passed around. He felt someone grab him under his arms, sitting his limp body up, and he bit back the urge to yelp at the sudden sharp pain. He instead slowed down his breathing, holding it when he felt someone put a testing finger under his nose. At what Lance was sure was a sharp nod, the people erupted, and more GAC was surrendered. Lance then felt he was being dragged now to where he knew was the trash chute. He was lifted, set down, and he felt himself sliding down, landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom. 

He groaned softly, and breathed in through his mouth. He knew he wasn't the only "corpse" down there. Despite the pain, he stood, reaching up towards the sloping chute above him. Slowly, but surely, he reached the top. He took a deep breath and leapt out, prepared for a fight. None came, guards nonexistent. Lance figured as such, since guarding the trash chute was a stupid sounding job anyways. He sped to where he knew the prisoners were held, only coming across two guards. He got them out of the way easily, and their keys in his pocket even easier.

He rounded a corner and found his friends all sitting in their cells, waiting for the rescue they had all dreamt of for too long.

"Let's get out, shall we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Lance)

*One Year Later, Present Day*

"Think fast!" Glarni exclaimed, tossing Lance's fixed weapon at him.

"I think YOU need to think fast, Glarni. I thought everyone knew not to throw guns," he returned to the Olkari girl with a mischievous smirk. 

"He is right, you know! It's unsafe!" Kdareon yelled from across the bridge, his latest book laid out in front of him. He scowled, fluffy ears low, but a laughing light was in his eyes. His half-sister glared from the rafters, her katana still out from her now finished training session on the top deck.

"Kdareon, I hope you aren't reading that book again! You said you would make dinner and I'm hungry! It's late, and you haven't even started! It better be ready by the time I'm back!" Boera fired, her galra features now glaring with her frustration.

Lance looked at Hirej behind him at the helm, who only relented a faint grin. More than usual, at least; he was always so quiet.

When he returned his gaze to Glarni, she had her tablet in hand, and was waving it menacingly.