Shiro groaned, "Alright, random unexplained telepathy, teenaged hormones and most of the team has been incapacitated by alien food. Just another perfectly normal Wednesday..." What begins with an attempt to contact other realities, instead brings tw...
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whilst placing a fanfiction into an exact place in Canon can sometimes be tricky – especially with such a well written series – I consider this to nestle somewhere between the events of seasons 4 and 5. That and/or to exist in one or many of potentially infinite alternate realities. That said, I hope you enjoy.]
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Puzzled was an emotion that Lance was very familiar with. He was puzzled by the flavour of the smooth gelatinous green lump he was nibbling on, convincing himself it was simply a semi-solid handheld strawberry milkshake. He was puzzled by the political shake ups, shifting allegiances and games of musical lions that he and the others had been part of recently. He was puzzled that they had managed to find a few days of relative calm out among the stars, but thankful. He was still puzzled by who would be his rival now that Keith had decided to join a bunch of alien space ninjas. He was even puzzled if alien space ninja was almost cooler than the Blue Paladin of Voltron. Had Keith won...? Wait... is he the Red Paladin now? Do you name by suit or lion? Or both? Was he the Purple Paladin now...? Or The Right Hand Of Voltron...? That last one sounded pretty badass. Whatever. He would always be the sharpshooter, whatever colour or impressive title he eventually decided upon. What was currently puzzling Lance the most however, was the sight before him in the green hangar bay.
Draped, coiled, interfaced, cable tied, glued, stuck, soldered, spooled and hanging from the Green Lion were a maddening collection of wires, cables and fibre bundles of countless colours, configurations and states of either glowing or not glowing. Attached to each of them, an even more baffling array of devices, nick knacks, components and doohickys all whirring, buzzing, clicking and pinging. Lance felt a pang of sympathy as he looked to the Green Lion's expressionless yet to his mind at least somehow embarrassed face. Sat beside the great metal star beast, among a nexus of interconnected tech, their resident genius worked hurriedly away. Glancing between one of several screens, both physical and holographic, tapping on every kind of interface from a partially melted keyboard to a reverse engineered Galra Robot's head, Pidge was absorbed in her work.
Wandering over, still nibbling on the green goo ball (he couldn't remember if it was actually called an almost unpronounceable Altean word that somehow rhymed with both Orange and Purple or a juicy Gohraiohn. It may not have been either...) Lance let out an impressed whistle, rocking on the balls of his feet. Pidge continued to work silently. Lance let out another impressed whistle, this one louder and more insistent. No joy. As he began breathing in for the third, Pidge glared at the boy over the rim of her glasses.
"What?" She asked, with no attempt to conceal her irritation. Lance was almost as familiar with this look of disdain and impatience as he was with being puzzled. "What...?" She added, more insistent than before.
"What'cha doooooing...?" Lance glanced about the scene again, "Looks...interesting...?"
"You're bored, you can't get past level 27 of Killbot Phantasm and everyone else is busy." Pidge responded, returning to her work. "Well guess what, I'm busy as well, Lance. As for what I'm doing, right now I'm being distracted from very important calculations..."
