Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Today was the day.

Starting today, Lieutenant Major Keith Kogane was going to fulfill his childhood dream of going up into space.

For as far back as he can remember, he'd been fascinated by the vast amount of... well, space. The beautiful array of stars he saw out his bedroom window were only an infinitesimal amount in the billions of stars in the galaxy. Not to mention the fact that there was billions and billions of galaxies; each one having their own gallery of billions of stars and planets.

And he didn't just like it for the aesthetics. Though beauty was a factor, it wasn't the main reason why he'd always wanted to explore the vast reaches of the galaxy.

Each galaxy was gigantic- so how could people claim other life didn't exist somewhere else? There was no possible way, in all those billions of galaxies with countless stars and endless lightyears, that Earth was the only planet that had (arguably) intelligent life in the universe. The very idea of it was just so fucking absurd he couldn't even wrap his head around it.

He soon became the weird space-obsessed orphan kid at school. The quiet one who spent most of his time with his head out of the atmosphere rather than in the classroom. The one who would snap when someone asked him a question about how big the sun was (it has a radius of 432,288 miles, by the way) or how old the moon was (around 4.56 billion years, give or take). Mainly because he learned those questions weren't asked because people genuinely wanted to know those little tidbits of information.

Those questions were to mock him. To mock the fact that he knew how long it would take to travel to Pluto and back, but didn't quite understand why the teachers bothered analyzing what Edgar Allen Poe might've meant when he wrote line 24 in the Raven. To mock the loner kid who liked the galaxy more than he liked living in it.

Getting defensive, driving people away when they asked, just kept him from getting hurt. It was better that way.

Then one day, he'd met the kid who'd end up his unlikely best friend- Hunk. (That was actually his real first name. Keith had asked.)

No matter how much Keith tried to push him away, he'd always find some way to try talking to him again. Hunk would give him his own personal space whenever he asked for it, but he'd come back a day or so with a different question. Unlike the others, he always looked interested in Keith's answers. He actually wanted to know how big the sun was compared to the Earth and the other useless facts Keith knew.

After a group project building a model of the solar system, they became friends. They kept in touch over the years, even when Keith went off to join the military and Hunk went to study engineering. The last time they saw each other in person was about 20 years ago.

Now Hunk was apparently working on one of the few intergalactic ships in some classified government plan to see if humans really were alone in the universe. And guess who he mentioned to the Captain when she mentioned they needed another Commander on the ship?

Even though he wasn't technically a commander (yet), Keith practically jumped at the opportunity. He couldn't have been able to accept the offer quicker if he tried. Apparently the title of Lt. Major was authoritative enough for them.

So now here he was, stepping into the docking tunnel to get aboard the ship. It was a gorgeous ship, sleek and shining like it was just polished. Which it probably was. It was massive in size and mainly white and blue. Bold black lettering on the side displayed the ship's name proudly- 'Castle'.

This hulking ship was going to be his new home for who-knows-how-long. A couple months at least. Or a couple years.

It looked like a good place to call home, regardless of how temporary it was going to be. Everything he owned (which wasn't much, obviously) was in the red backpack currently strapped onto his back. He was ready. Beyond ready, actually.

He barely got a chance to observe the sterile inside of the ship before he heard the only hug warning he'd get- a familiar voice giddily shouting "Keith!" Strong arms wrapped around him, squeezing the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding out of his lungs. Even after 20 years and military endurance training, Hunk could still crush him like a twig. Good to see some things didn't change.

Hunk thankfully hadn't lost his perceptiveness either, because he quickly let Keith go. He was able to breathe again.

"Sorry," he heard Hunk say. "Got a little excited. Are you okay?"

Keith nodded, catching his breath. "Yeah," he said. "It's good to see you too."

After all these years, Hunk actually didn't change his appearance much. His hair was slightly lighter, tinged with the slightest hint of gray at the roots. It was tied back out of his face by the same faded yellow bandana. His frame was more muscular now, his hand feeling rough when Keith shook it. Other than that, he was the same kid who gave Keith the telescope he always wanted when for his birthday. The same kind eyes sparkling with excitement. The same bright smile.

"Man," Hunk said, glancing up and down his frame. "You look... different. Not- Not in a bad way, though. It's a good different."

Keith probably looked like a completely different person now than when they were teenagers barely out of high school. He kept his long hair tied back out of habit, the long bangs that were the bane of his 19-year-old existence were cut and kept short years ago. He hadn't shaved in a while, so he had a bit of stubble all the way across the lower half of his face. (He packed a couple razors, so that was definitely going to get taken care of later.)

"So," Hunk started. "What's with the scars? If you don't mind me asking, of course." One of his fingers ghosted hesitantly over the cut through his right eyebrow.

Right. His scars. Little cuts and nicks littered his body from countless occasions and accidents, but most were kept out of sight. His chest, his sides, et cetera. But he couldn't hide the three on his face. One through the brow (training accident), one on his left cheek (bar fight where a glass shard from a broken bottle got embedded in it), and one through the top of his upper lip (he tripped and cut his lip on a table edge).

"Stories for another time." he said. He wasn't in the mood to go into detail right now. After looking forward to this moment for weeks, he wanted to explore the ship. Meet the crew members. Stuff like that. He'd have time to sit down with Hunk and delve into stories later.

"Got it," Hunk, of course, understood what he meant. He was practically fluent in Keith-speak by now. "You ready?"

"Do you even need to ask?"

Hunk shook his head. "Just making sure."

-

Keith wasn't much into mechanics, but the ship was absolutely amazing. It was huge, bigger than anything he could've dreamed up. It looked like many people had put a lot of care into it. Like they wanted to make a ship that was unique in every aspect.

Considering the intricate details on every wall, the colors, the layout, and so much more, he could safely say they succeeded.

Hunk was mainly quiet in leading him around, knowing full well that anything he would've said would've barely processed. Keith was too busy memorizing all the details he could. Every dip in every line, every wall shiny enough to see his reflection in. It felt like he was a child again, staring in quiet awe at everything around him.

"So," Keith snapped back to reality when he heard someone new say something. The speaker came into view a moment later, poking his head out of the doorframe to their right a couple feet ahead. "You must be Kogane, right? The Lieutenant Major?"

The man was at least five years older than them, if not more. A long, jagged scar ran through the bridge of his nose, under the barely-noticeable eyebags. Despite his tired look and whitening hair, his eyes were still kind and soft. Not to mention the fact that he was apparently wearing eyeliner. (Really smooth eyeliner, at that.)

He moved out into the hallway, wearing a zipped-up black vest with a white t-shirt underneath and worn-down black jeans. Faded scars decorated the exposed skin liberally.

Keith didn't even notice the prosthetic arm until it's hand was extended towards him. He took it, surprised by how warm it felt. He expected the metal to be cool. But no matter.

"The name's Takashi Shirogane," he said, giving Keith a smile. "But people usually find that to be a mouthful, so you can just call me Shiro. Or Commander. Whichever one works."

Keith stopped mid-shake. He'd heard about Shiro before. The man was practically a legend. Enlisted at 16 (lying about his age of course), top of every course he took. He rose through the ranks in record time, amazing many with his prowess in both combat and strategy. The old drill instructor always used him as an example.

No one could compare to Shirogane, but Keith certainly tried.

And he had been casually shaking his hand while people like Sarge would've probably pissed themselves by now. Thankfully he didn't, but he was speechless.

"I-I'm Keith," he said when he finally managed to get his vocal cords working again, then remembered Shiro already knew who he was. He'd asked. "Or Kogane, whatever you wanna call me. I don't mind much, sir."

Thankfully Shiro didn't judge him. There wasn't even a weird look, just a warm smile. He was probably used to people being star struck by him by now. He looked over to Hunk. "I'm guessing you're showing him around, Garret?"

"Yup," Hunk said, popping the 'p'.

"Just be sure to introduce him to Lance," Shiro looked to him again. "He's our..." He faltered for a second, looking for the right word to explain. "'Special assistant', I guess."

Keith raised an eyebrow, looking to Hunk. What the hell did he mean by that? Hunk only nodded at Shiro.

"We're on our way there, actually." Hunk wasn't looking at him. Why? "See ya at dinner?"

"You know it." Shiro told him, then moved past them down the hallway.

It took a couple moments for Hunk to finally look at his confused expression. He didn't say anything to answer Keith, just gestured toward the hall opening a foot or so away from them.

"So..." Keith finally spoke up when they started walking again. He couldn't help but ask. "Who's this 'Lance' guy? What's so different about him?"

They turned into the hall. There was only one doorway in the entire thing, at the very end of the hallway. The hall wasn't as long as the others they'd gone through, making the walk pretty short.

Only when they reached the shining metal door did Hunk bother to say anything. "You'll see," like it was some big secret he was letting Keith in on. He still didn't understand what that could mean.

Until the door slid open to reveal an empty room.

Well, 'empty' was an overstatement. Smooth rectangular machines with dozens of blinking lights of many different colors lined the walls. Countless wires raced along the floor, going from one machine to another.

But there was no one else in there waiting for them. Maybe he was out in another part of the ship? Did they have the wrong room, considering there wasn't a bed or anything else in here?

"Where is he?" Keith asked.

"Right here," a different voice piped up. An unfamiliar voice that seemed to come from the intercom. "You're seeing me right now, dude." Long electric blue lines along one of the machines blinked when the voice spoke. Underneath them in bold letters was one word- LaNSe.

It took him a minute to connect the obvious dots.

"So, you're an AI?" Like it wasn't obvious.

"Duh," he (it?) said. "The name's Longevity and Navigational Systems. But people call me 'Lance' for short. It's easier."

"The 'e' at the end doesn't stand for anything, then?"

"Nope," Lance popped the 'p'. "Just something to show how the acronym's pronounced. 'Lans' just sounds dumb."

This was all... strangely surreal. He was talking to a machine right now, and it responded like an actual person would. It felt like he'd just walked right into some weird scifi movie.

Well, considering he was in a giant ship planning to discover aliens, he'd already passed into that territory. A human-like AI on said ship was just the icing on the space-cake.

Chapter Text

After meeting Shiro and LaNSe, the others Hunk introduced him to during the tour started to blend together. Names, faces, parts of their life stories were hard to pinpoint correctly with so many swimming in his head.

There was Martin, the designated shuttle pilot and odd job specialist. He looked like he was 16 or so, but he was actually 25. Super cheery. Keith didn't hang around him long. He meant well, but he couldn't help but feel a little creeped out by him.

He remembered Coran, the ship's cook. The bit of food he let Keith sample tasted as good as it looked. (So basically it was terrible. He's pretty sure the only reason he was the cook was because he was the Captain's uncle or something.)

Then, of course, there was recently-promoted Captain Allura Altea. She looked like she was about Shiro's age, with the fully-white hair and eyebags to show it. Out of everyone else he met that day, she was one of the friendliest.

Not to mention she personally led him to his own private quarters.

He was certain he'd be bunking in a room with one (or a couple) of his fellow crew members. While he didn't really like the idea, he understood why. Even on this ship, there was limited space. Especially considering the fact that there were at least a hundred or so fellow crew members.

But apparently Hunk must've mentioned something about how Keith enjoyed the view of space. So, instead of regular crew quarters, he was assigned to his own little observation room.

It wasn't fancy in the slightest, but he didn't mind. It looked like the other quarters he'd seen, with one difference- the wall opposite the door was a giant window. A view of the many stars, and it was all his. Instead of looking up at the sky from his tiny bedroom window back on Earth, he just needed to look out to see the stars all around him.

He's not sure how long he sat on his cot attached to the wall and just stared out the window. The only thing that made him notice the passing time was the hum of the engine revving up slightly, and the stars gradually started to move a bit faster. He could feel the subtle vibrations when he leaned against the wall. It was the perfect time to contemplate recent events.

This was really happening. He was really serving on a one of a kind space ship.

It was amazing to think about, wondering how many times he'd wished for something like this as a child as he idly counted the passing stars. He soaked in the tranquility of those moments after the hectic hustle and bustle of meeting most of the crew.

It was quiet in the room, save for the slight hum of the ship's engine. But even that was barely noticeable after a while.

The atmosphere of it all made him feel like he was submerged underwater, barely able to worry about anything happening on the surface of the water as he sank to the bottom. The barely distinguishable noise, the peaceful serenity of just letting his mind wander aimlessly as he stared out at the blurred streaks. (He wasn't in any danger of drowning, of course. But the metaphor still fit pretty well.)

But tranquility can't last forever. Something (someone) would come to rupture it sooner or later, whether he liked it or not. He'd have to come back up for air and the moment would break when he reached the surface.

That something ended up being LaNSe. (Lance? How should he spell it? Probably didn't matter either way.)

"Hey," the AI said, snapping him out of the state he'd been in. "Major, Captain Altea wants you to report to the dining hall. If you're done staring out the window like a weirdo, of course."

It took him a moment to nod. Right. Back to the real world, with his real new job on this real ship. Back to his duties on the surface.

It was nice to do nothing while it lasted, but now it was done.

-

The Captain hadn't just called him there. It was a crew meeting, meaning pretty much everyone on the ship was there. Meaning they all cramped together uncomfortably around the longest dining hall table.

At least he was lucky enough to get there early, so he wasn't sitting by complete strangers. Instead, he sat near the end where the captain sat. The only person closer to her than he was was Shiro. Thankfully Hunk came in quickly after Keith did, so they sat together.

So he was uncomfortable, but he wasn't getting smushed between two complete strangers. That was good.

Even with Hunk sitting next to him to lighten things up, it was honestly one of the most boring meetings he ever had to sit through. It was a routine, running-through-the-rules-cause-this-shit's-mandatory meeting. Even though most of it was just common sense that you could figure out without the Captain reading the list while looking just about as bored as you felt.

You'd think they'd realize the people they hired for this weren't morons, but apparently they thought a team involving some of the most advanced minds of the century needed to be reminded of the fact that they shouldn't mess with the airlock controls.

Then she reviewed the basics of their mission- the ship the project sent before Castle, Tempest, had found some strange readings. It was their job to meet with Captain Holt aboard Tempest and review what they'd found. What they did next depended entirely on whatever they found out.

Best case scenario for the project leaders? They'd find a peaceful alien civilization that were fine with human colonization. They'd be hailed as heroes, go down in history as the first intergalactic diplomats or something along those glorifying lines.

(Of course, he seriously doubted that would happen. Most likely it'd be nothing and they'd have to go back home empty handed.)

The reason they needed the big-ass space ship? Tempest was stationed orbiting around Kerberos. A trip that would usually take years to accomplish. But with from what he understood from the technological mumbo-jumbo Hunk had to translate to him, it would take them a little over a year at worst. At the absolute best? 4 months.

Still a considerable number of time spent in space, but it was nothing compared to 9 years or so.

The meeting actually took about half an hour or so, but it felt like longer.

Good news was, after the grueling meeting was over they were given leave to do what they wanted for the rest of the evening. So Hunk and Keith did the natural thing with the time they'd been given.

They took a couple bottles of beer from the (not really) secret stash one of the other crew members had somehow smuggled in. There were probably over a hundred bottles organized in the little hidden insulated cabinet, so he doubted whoever bothered to bring them would miss a few.

"You share a room with anyone?" Hunk asked. Keith only shook his head. "Then I guess we're drinking these in yours." He let Keith lead the way.

Keith moved the red backpack he hadn't bothered to open yet off the small plush chrome chair and promptly plopped down onto it. It felt a hell of a lot better than the hard metal chairs in the dining hall. Hunk handed him a bottle as he passed over to the bed a foot or so away, and he took it gladly. He'd been kind enough to remove the cap for him.

Keith took a swig. It tasted cheap, unsurprisingly. But it was better than nothing, at least.

"So," he said. Then wondered how to finish that particular question. 'How's life been for you' sounded too awkward. So he went with the first question that popped into his mind. "What's with the AI?"

Hunk raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Good question. What did he mean by that? "Well, wouldn't a human pilot be more effective than some glorified computer program?"

"That's racist."

"It's literally a computer, Hunk."

"You're racist against computers, then. You're..." Hunk pursed his lips in thought. "Compist? Techist?" He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Point is, Lance isn't that bad. You just gotta give him a chance."

Keith sighed. "I... guess you're right."

-

Turns out, Hunk was very wrong.

It started that night. After two hours of talking and swapping stories, Hunk left for his own room. Keith, unable to think of anything else to do at midnight when almost everyone else was asleep, went to bed. He considered shaving, but getting up out of the rather comfy bed to do so sounded like too much effort.

It didn't take him long to drift off to sleep. It'd been a long and exciting day, and he was absolutely exhausted.

He wasn't sure how long he slept, but he knew it wasn't enough. His head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton; his mouth felt dry. There was a bit of hair in his mouth.

"Keith," LaNSe repeated. "Keith! Wake up!"

Of fucking course the AI woke him up. This'd better be good.

Keith groaned. "What the hell do you want, LaNSe?" He grumbled out, looking out at the empty room. He didn't really know where to look. There certainly weren't any cameras visible in his room. Maybe he just couldn't see them? He'd ask Hunk or someone else about it later, after he dealt with whatever LaNSe decided was so damn important it couldn't wait until morning.

"I need you to get to the AI core," it (Keith, no matter what Hunk said, still refused to think of the AI as a being. It was just a piece of equipment. Like a ship-wide male Siri with a more convincing voice.) said worriedly. "I know, it's late, but it's important. I promise."

"Why'd you ask me, then? I don't know shit about-"

"It needs an administrative passcode," LaNSe interrupted. "Allura and Shiro are already asleep, and they... kinda don't know about this." A moment of silence hung heavily in the air.

For a moment, Keith wanted to roll over and try to go back to sleep. Deal with it in the morning. But he knew the AI would just keep pestering him if he did.

Then LaNSe filled it with a quiet tone, one that sounded so human it actually hurt his heart to hear it. Just one simple word- "Please."

Goddammit.

Keith sighed, getting out of bed. He probably looked like shit right now, but he couldn't find the liberty to care. The sooner he took care of whatever the AI was doing, the sooner he could return to his warm and comfortable bed.

That thought was enough to fuel him all the way to the core.

He looked around at all the machines. Nothing looked wrong to him, but then again, he wouldn't be able to tell. All the lights seemed to be working, a quiet humming symphony of beeps and clicks filling the silence softly.

"Okay, I'm at...you." he said. It felt stupid to talk to the air. "What do you want?"

LaNSe spoke up after a moment. "Good. See the blue terminal on the wall?"

It took him a second to find it. Keith nodded.

"What I need you to do," LaNSe continued. "is open up the little flashing white folder in the top right corner."

It didn't take him long to find it, considering it was the only icon on the entire screen. Keith furrowed his brows. Something about this didn't feel right. "What's in it?"

"It's a bit of the transmission from Tempest." LaNSe told him matter-of-factly. "I just received it and wanted to check it out. But it won't open without the administration code. So, you're here. Make sense?"

"I guess," Keith admitted. "But couldn't this wait 'till, you know," He checked the time at the bottom left of the screen. " not 3 in the morning?"

"Time's just a concept," it replied. "I don't need to sleep. Plus, from the tiny bits of data I got, I don't really wanna wait. Not gonna lie... I'm kinda worried."

Keith finally gave in, selecting the folder icon on the screen. If something really had happened, they needed to know. He could skip out on a couple hours of sleep if it meant they found something important.

The folder opened, showing a small blinking black line right above a keyboard. What was this week's password again? The Captain told it to him.

Oh right- wolf263. He remembered it 'cause of the strangeness.

Quickly, he typed it out and pressed 'enter'. The screen went blank for a moment, then a cheery ding went off.

"Listen closely," LaNSe told him. "Something tells me this is gonna be important."

Keith leaned towards the terminal curiously, watching as the file booted up. He had to admit, he was kinda curious now. Maybe this really was worth getting out of bed for after all.

A song started up, sounding strangely familiar. But he couldn't place why it sounded familiar until the voice of none other than Rick Astley started, backed up by LaNSe's howls of laughter. Keith put a hand to his temples.

He just got fucking rick rolled.

"Ho-holy shit, dude," LaNSe said breathlessly. He could easily imagine it'd be wiping its eyes right now (if it had any). "I didn't think you'd fall for that! But-but you leaned forward and everything! Jesus Christ, that's amazing."

Keith crossed his arms, glaring at one of the machines. If looks could kill, the AI would have probably burst into flames by now. "I thought you were serious, you asshole!" He fumed. He couldn't believe that he actually bought that phony bullshit LaNSe told him.

Not only did he buy it, he practically ate it up on a silver fucking spoon. It was too early to deal with this shit.

"I'm going back to bed," he said. "And I swear to God, if you wake me up and someone's not dead or on fucking fire, I'll give you something to be worried about."

"Gotcha," LaNSe said. "I'll keep that in mind." He spoke up again just as Keith stepped a foot out the room. "Oh, and Major?"

Keith didn't even bother to look back. "What?"

"Sweet dreams."

"Suck my ass," he grumbled, heading back to his room.

Chapter Text

It was strange how easily Keith settled into a routine on the ship. He'd wake up, freshen himself up a little, and head to the dining hall for breakfast. Tables filled with half-awake crew members pretty quickly, so the sooner he got there the better his chances were at getting a wide variety of seats. Usually Hunk sat next to him, and the other engineers filled up the rest of the table. He didn't know anything about the technological stuff they talked about, but he tried adding to the conversation when he could.

Breakfast was usually shitty, but none of them could bear telling Coran that. The cheerful cook obviously enjoyed what he did, and he was excited for his favorite (and only, Allura had told him) niece's big shot at something greater. He was just happy to be along for the ride, and nobody wanted to ruin it by saying his food was pretty terrible. If that meant they all had to pretend to like his weirdly-flavored mush of questionable origin, then so be it.

Some of the crew members would occasionally make the others some actual food, so everything worked out fine.

After breakfast, Keith would always head to the training deck. He had specific times where he had to oversee some work station to check if they're doing their work. But breakfast didn't really take too long, so he'd have an hour or so to unwind and prep himself.

It probably wasn't necessary, but it couldn't hurt to be prepared just in case they found anyone unfriendly. Plus it was more productive than just lying around in his room and staring out the window. LaNSe was more than happy to remind him of that fact.

Speaking of the AI, it had thankfully become less of an asshole. It did its job- which Keith learned was actually mapping out the ship's course. It wasn't actually allowed to take control of the ship in any way. Especially the ship's weapons systems. The most it could do was open the door to activate a robotic training dummy. And play 'Mmm whatcha say' over the speakers whenever the training dummy got a lucky hit in.

"You know," it spoke up while he was sparring with a level 3. It was almost too easy, a sign that he needed to move up to 4. "You're weird."

Keith huffed, knocking the dummy over. The blue light flickered for a moment, then finally went out. "Thanks. Appreciate it, LaNSe."

"That wasn't meant to be an insult," it said. Honestly, Keith was barely paying attention. The only downside to the robotic dummies was when they were deactivated. The things were heavy as hell, and he'd have to drag the limp robot to a recharging station and hook it up. Then he'd pick another one and the cycle would start again. "I just don't get you." The AI paused for a moment. "Okay, yeah, I can see how you thought that was an insult."

Keith lifted the robot's arm onto his other shoulder, making it look kind of like he was walking an extremely drunk friend home. He looked straight at the camera pointed at him hidden up high in the giant room's top right corner. "What's your point? Other than insulting me."

"I meant," it made a sighing sound. "I meant you're... not like the others. Know what I mean?"

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Not really, no." Was that meant to be a compliment? 'Hey Keith, you're different from everyone else on the ship. Almost like you're an individual person in a crowd of other individual people. You're welcome, by the way!'

"Are you really gonna make me explain it?" Keith nodded, and the AI made a different sighing sound. More frustrated than the first. "I don't get why you do this every day. You train, and you train, and you train for as long as you can. At first I thought it was gonna be an occasional thing, that maybe you'd stop at one point and go visit someone or do something else. But you don't. You haven't. You've literally done this every single day without fail for the month you've been on this ship. Why?"

Keith shrugged, taking a second to readjust the limp bot. "Doesn't hurt to be prepared, right?" He got to the nearest charging station. It took a moment to actually open the door. "Why do you care, anyways? I'm not the only person on this ship, LaNSe." He got to work putting the wires where they were supposed to go.

"I know," it said. "A little bit of preparation never hurts, but is this really necessary? You're in here 'till you have to go oversee some work station, and after dinner, you're here till ass-o-clock training some more. That's not healthy, dude."

...It had a point. But was he going to admit that? Hell no.

"So?" He finally finished, letting the robot go. Slowly, it got to its feet and reverted back to the standard stock-still standing position. He moved back into the huge training room. An electronic clock was positioned above the main doors, broadcasting the time in neon blue lighting. The time right now was 9:37- just enough for one more session and cleaning up afterwards without being late to his 10:00-12:30 work assignments.

"So?!" It parroted incredulously. "So do you ever sleep?"

"Why do you care?" Keith asked. Talking to the air still made him feel stupid, but he knew the AI would answer. "I thought you hated me."

"I pranked you like, once," it told him. "And you're the one who got all hung up about it. That means I was just messing with you, not that I hate you or anything." He almost believed it, but there was an edge to its words. An edge that left him a little uneasy.

Keith considered its answer. He had to admit, he had blown that out of proportion. But it had been a long and full day, and he had been very tired. And then LaNSe decided to wake him up from much needed sleep to do a stupid prank. So yeah, he'd been a bit peeved. That wasn't really his fault.

"You didn't answer my question." He thought out loud.

"What?"

"Why do you care?" He repeated calmly. Forget the training bot- he wanted some kind of explanation.

"Like I said- you're interesting," it said. "The AI shackles prevent me from getting fully invested in anyone in any way- which I think is pretty stupid but I didn't program myself so anyways- but that doesn't stop me from caring about people on the ship. About their wellbeing. So I kinda notice when a certain someone is sacrificing his health for no reason. Sue me for paying attention."

"...So you can feel?" Keith asked. "Even-"

"-Even though I'm... how did you say it, again?" LaNSe stopped for a second to ponder. "A 'glorified computer program'?" It took him a moment to remember what it meant by that.

His stomach sunk. Oh.

Oh shit.

"You... heard that?"

"Mm-hm," LaNSe hummed. "Diverted my attention to your room that night cause I was gonna tell you something. But, to my surprise, you were talking about me. So I listened." Yup, it definitely sounded peeved. But the tone it had was more... hurt than anything. Like it was trying but failing to hide it. "Imagine my surprise when I heard those words. Like I needed a frickin' reminder how inhuman and unimportant I am."

Keith was at a loss for words. What should he say? What could he say? He didn't really know, but he tried anyways. "LaNSe, I'm-"

"Don't," it cut him off abruptly. "Just train. Or don't. It's not like a computer like me would care either way, Major." Somehow the AI made the title Keith had worked years for sound like the worst insult it could think of, the way he said it dripping venom.

Keith looked at the clock. 9:42. He still had a little bit of time left to train.

But he didn't really want to anymore.

Chapter Text

Keith started to notice something about LaNSe after their last conversation.

The AI was loud, filling up the room with his voice without physically being there. He didn't really know how that worked, but it just... did. When it talked to you, you felt less alone. Like you could look over and see the AI in some humanoid form sitting by your side. Probably with a warm smile or smug smirk. Both fit it pretty well.

The silence, however, was much more noticeable now. Somehow it was both hollow and heavy on his shoulders. Keith didn't understand what the feeling was supposed to mean. It didn't make any sense, so he did what he did best to strange and new feelings.

He ignored it. Or at the very least, he tried to.

He filled his day with work, small jobs in his spare time so he didn't have time to worry or wonder. First thing he tried was laundry. He didn't bring many clothes with him, and the only clothes provided for him was some fancy military uniform for when they'd go aboard the Tempest. It was hanging on coat hangers in the closet he didn't really use. The fabric was surprisingly soft to the touch, both the jacket and the pants a dark shade of blue. The jacket, however, had bronze clasps and trimmings along most of the edges. The outfit was a stark contrast against his usual clothes.

When he was a teenager, he will admit, he had quite the emo phase. Black everything except for shoes and a red and white cropped leather jacket. He'd had tons of fingerless gloves back then. He can't even remember where he got them, just remembered they made him feel cool. It was kinda embarrassing to admit, but it was sadly true. No matter how much secondhand embarrassment he harbored for his past self, he couldn't change it.

The only thing he still had from those days was the jacket- now lying on the chrome chair's back like it was looking out his window- which he never really wore anymore. It was more of a sentimental thing than anything else. That jacket had been with him through thick and thin. So, he thought, why not take it on one final adventure? The biggest adventure of his life.

Nowadays, his clothes had more color variety. He only brought about 2 pairs of jeans. Neither of them were black or gray. The rest of his pants were looser- usually for training or sleep. All of his shirts were still t-shirts. That hadn't changed. But they were lighter- an eye-popping red, a calming sky blue, a muted yellow, a neutral green with lighter dotted patterns at the bottom, and one black tee.

Right now, the only clothes that weren't lying in the hamper were the ones he had on. The black sweatpants with white and purple lines racing down the outward sides of his legs and the blue shirt.

Yeah, he really needed to do laundry. He had about an hour and a half before lunch and his afternoon jobs. They were really just chores, but he preferred to just call them 'jobs'. It sounded more formal that way. Or something like that.

Sneaking in one final look out his window, he picked his hamper up and headed out of the room. The laundry room was on the floor below, a few rooms away from the dining area. So he could put his clothes in one of the machines, wait half an hour or so, put them in the dryer, and have them out and folded just before lunch. Perfect.

He headed for the elevator alone, the doors sliding open easily for him. It was empty except for him, and he struggled for a second to juggle both the hamper and free a hand so he could press the button. Finally he managed to maneuver one hand to support it along his side. The doors slid shut, and the elevator started down with a whirr.

It barely took a minute for it to reach his destination, which wasn't really surprising. You kinda expected things to work smoothly on a state of the art secret space ship. That was just some kind of universal unspoken rule.

A few crew members glanced to him as they passed. Shayleigh Belmonte- he was pretty sure that was her name, at least- was the only one who slightly waved at him from whatever little side project she was working on. She was about 36, two years younger than Keith and only a year younger than Hunk. A soft spoken engineer with wavy long dark brown hair usually kept back in a bun. Yet still a few strands ended up in her face. Bangs were a pain in the ass- he could relate. Her eyes were a light brown, blended with darker shades. Her skin was caramel-colored, with some barely noticeable freckles splayed across her cheeks.

She kept mainly to herself, always trying to make herself seem smaller. Which was pretty hard, considering her tall and somewhat muscular figure. Not to mention the silver hoop earrings she regularly wore.

She usually sat at their table, rarely contributing to the conversation. Usually she just laughed- mainly at Hunk's jokes, which always left him practically glowing afterwards. There was obviously something there. But neither seemed to notice it yet. He's not really sure how they couldn't, but somehow they didn't.

They still had time to, though. About three months, at least. Time flew by fast.

Of course, he gave her a small smile and wave back. Then they both continued on with their day. That was pretty much their relationship in a nutshell- quiet yet comfortably friendly. Sometimes she explained technical stuff to him like what a nanoparticle accelerator did or how the ship's intricate cooling systems worked. He still didn't really understand most of what the engineers talked about, but she made it a bit easier. Keith liked her, and that was a pretty high achievement.

Anyways, it didn't take him long to walk to the laundry room. The door slid open to reveal he wasn't the only one who had this idea. Shiro was leaning against one of the chrome dryers, back to the doorway. Two hampers laid by his feet- one half empty, the other just empty. He turned his head to glance at him when he heard the door open, and greeted Keith with a smile.

"Hey," Keith spoke up first, heading to one of the washing machines. There were about 10 in a row along one wall, sleek and shiny and new. Just like the ship itself. Even after a month and about a week of use, it still shone like the first day he saw it. He bent down, putting his hamper on the floor. He pressed his thumb to the circular steel door's clasp, popping it open easily.

It was kinda embarrassing to think about how long it had taken him to figure that out the first time he did laundry. LaNSe had laughed at him for about 10 minutes or so as Keith struggled with it. Eventually it had taken pity on him and pointed the clasp out.

And there he was, thinking about the AI again. Shit.

"Hey," Thankfully Shiro was there to snap him out of his thoughts.

He started putting his clothes into the machine, sparing a glance at Shiro. It was... weird, honestly, seeing his commanding officer act so casually. He was the second highest authority on the entire ship. Yet, looking at him right now, he looked like just a regular man. A regular man you wouldn't take a second glance at if you met him on the street. But he wasn't. He would never be able to forget that this man was military-legend Commander Shirogane, dressed up in a slightly-grungy gray hoodie and ripped-at-the-knees blue jeans, waiting for the dryer to finish.

Life on the ship was... more domestic than Keith had thought it would be. But he didn't really mind it. It was a nice change of pace than the lonely shack in the middle of the desert he'd been living in. He was slowly getting used to the nearly-constant companionship.

He stood up fully when he put the final piece of clothing in, closing the door with a bump of his hip. A series of beeps filled the air alongside the rumbling of the dryer when Keith filled out the necessary washing details- how full it was, colors, et cetera. It was very specific, the blue touchscreen bombarding him with tons of different colors that could possibly be in the wash. He didn't see the point in being so specific about it, but he tried being as close as possible.

A chime rang out, and the washing machine started up. A timer popped up on the screen, already counting down the seconds from half an hour. He leaned against the machine, turning to look at Shiro. He hadn't been able to talk to his commander often, usually just passing conversations mainly consisting of 'hi, how are you's and 'I'm fine, how are you doing's as one (or both) of them was heading somewhere different.

"So-" the dryer's loud beeping interrupted whatever Shiro was going to say. He popped the door open, grabbing an armful of clean clothes. "...Wanna help me fold these?"

Well, he had time. Keith nodded. He headed over to the dryer, glancing to Shiro as he dumped the heap into the empty hamper. He picked the hamper up and headed to a stainless steel table. Keith grabbed the rest of the clothes- mainly socks- and put them in the half empty hamper. Most of the articles in there were bras, he noted.

"These aren't yours, I'm guessing?" He asked, moving to Shiro's side and grabbing a white shirt from the hamper on the table. Shiro raised a brow, looked to the hamper on the floor, and realized what he meant.

"It was Allura's turn," Shiro explained, hands working on folding a smaller light blue shirt that definitely didn't look like it would fit on him. "But she's been pretty busy lately, so I figured she didn't need to worry about something small like this." He put the folded shirt aside on the table, grabbing another shirt from the pile.

Keith put the wider folded shirt next to it. "You and the Captain share laundry?"

"Well, yeah," he said, holding up his organic hand. The silver ring shone brightly under the lighting. "We're engaged." He set to work on another one of his shirts.

How did he not notice that before? He didn't really make a habit of just randomly looking at people's hands, but the ring seemed obvious now that Shiro showed it to him. Like he should've seen it before now. "Really?"

Shiro nodded, getting a slim pair of jeans from the pile. "Yup," he folded it easily. The two were starting to work quicker now. "We're planning on having the wedding when we get back to Earth. Gives us something to look forward to."

"How long have you two known each other?" Keith asked curiously. Usually he wasn't really the type to get too into other people's relationships. The sappiness made him feel sick. His roommate at the Garrison was probably mostly to blame for that, filling Keith's nights with long talks on the phone with his boyfriend in California. If he went through the rest of his life without hearing 'no, you hang up first' ever again, he'd die a happy man. But he had to admit, he was a little bit interested in hearing this story.

He pursed his lips in thought. "11 years now, I think?" Shiro guessed. "We met during a mission. She saved my life about 4 months in." He looked down at his prosthetic. "I... owe her a lot." Then back to Keith. "We've been together for about 4 years now." He stayed quiet for a while, focused on his work. Keith didn't want to be that person, hounding Shiro for unnecessary details on his love life. That tidbit of information was enough. Shiro was the one to speak up again. "What about you?"

"Hm?" Keith hummed, stopping in the middle of folding one of Allura's shirts to look to Shiro.

"I mean, do you have a partner?" He asked. "Maybe someone at home?"

Keith snickered. "'Home' was a run-down shack in the middle of nowhere. People don't usually like those," he continued with the shirt. "So nope, no one."

"Can I ask you another question?" Shiro asked, grabbing the last of his shirts from the shrinking pile of clothes. "If that's okay, of course."

He put the folded shirt in Allura's pile. "Go ahead." He hoped it wasn't the question he was expecting.

"Are you interested in anyone?" Whoop, there it was.

"Not really," he said with a shrug. "None of the guys here have really caught my eye, and I'm not here for romance anyways." As a teenager, he wouldn't have said that so openly. Back then, people would look at him like he had two heads if he dropped a hint on his sexuality. But things had changed. There were still people like that around, he knew that. But Shiro didn't seem like the type.

Shiro barely batted an eye. "Okay, thought I'd ask," he said, putting the last folded article of clothing- a pair of pajama pants that were blue in the top half and yellow in the bottom- in his pile. "Thanks for the help, by the way."

"It's no problem," he placed Shiro's pile carefully in the hamper. "I'd be happy to do it anytime."

Shiro smiled at him, putting Allura's pile next to his own. "I'll hold you to that, Keith." He eyed the other hamper, then looked back to him. "Could you...?"

"Gotcha," he said, taking the few steps to it. He easily picked it up, sparing a glance at the timer on the washing machine. He had 17 minutes left. He looked back at Shiro. "Captain's quarters, I'm guessing?"

Shiro nodded and picked the heavier-looking hamper up.

"Okay," Keith gestured to the door. "Lead the way."