#impendingexodus

Upon their escape and unexpected landing on the first planet they were able to warp away to, they found they weren’t alone. A number of pods from both their mass prison break and various other successful attempts from around the galaxy had apparently been programmed to warp to the same random coordinates, stranding a mixed bag of aliens from all over the cosmos together on one barren and seemingly uninhabited planet.

As if that wasn’t surprising enough, it quickly became apparent to the exiled refugees that they weren’t the first beings to find and erect some sort of dwelling here. It was almost too good to be true, landing in the proximity they did to make contact with a makeshift community that harbored life capable of communication. This initial group was stunned and moderately defensive at the sudden and overwhelming arrival of so many different species. The mere volume of prisoners was intimidating on its own, but after some much needed explaining and doling out of compromises, an agreement between all groups was successful reached.  

And so this mixed bag of a fringe vigilante community flourished on an isolated, abandoned planet floating aimlessly in the vast infinity of space. From the get go there were a few among the rabble that rose up to positions of leadership and guidance, although it was clear that the community should unanimously agree on who was running operations and managing this new settlement. Matt was more surprised than his father at the overwhelming nomination he received as both a battle tactician and a base commander. Many of the escapees from his prison, his father included, vouched for Matt and shared stories of his brave and inspiring jailbreak in great detail, bolstering support for him in a way that he hadn’t experienced before.

Sure, getting top marks at the Garrison and getting to attend a survey mission to a distant icy planet with Shiro and his father was one thing. But being nominated as a commander of a multi-species resistance group that barely had the makings of a legitimate base on a planet in the dead of space? Matt didn’t know how he could possibly handle the responsibility, much less if he had the skills to carry out the kind of tasks that would be required of him. Most of Matt’s enthusiasm and courage for his initial escape attempt had come from the necessity to reunite with those he cherished. Seeing so much torture, bloodshed, and loss while being passed around the Galra prison chain, and experiencing some himself, was almost enough to break him. On the precipice of such despair, Matt pushed himself to overcome the desolation and find a reason to keep looking forward. His love for his family and friends, and his desire to see them again, were the only things that had been persuasive enough to help him find the courage to form and carry out his escape.

Matt found himself overwhelmed at the idea of being placed in any sort of command position, especially for a situation like this. He felt that he had barely managed to execute a successful escape on the mixture of adrenaline and the small but strong personal desires that drove him. After a few lengthy, heartfelt, and inspiring conversations with his father, though, Matt began to understand just how worthwhile his intuitive thinking and Garrison training were. Whether he liked it or not, Matt was a shining rebel recruit, and his reputation wasn’t something that could be replaced or easily earned. Once again Matt turned to remembering his family back home, and the friend that sacrificed so much for both he and his father, to inspire him to take the necessary action.

The relief and joy that he felt even just being back by his father’s side was enough to remind Matt why he had come this far. The title of Commander wasn’t something he could take lightly, and there was no one who knew better whether he deserved such an honor as the man who reassuringly patted him on the back now. Upon reuniting with his son, Sam Holt had become an incredible support, confidant, and inspiration for him, surprised that Matt seemed blind to just how much he had done for him in return. Eventually, though, Matt came to see some sort of light outside of the one that shined within him, urging him on, and accepted that he needed to do what would make both his family and Shiro proud. Apart from that, he wanted to do whatever it took to keep himself and the rest of the new settlement’s inhabitants safe.

Finally coming to a decision, Matt took his place as an official resistance leader and a key commander of this rebel colony. Apart from rebuilding and reinforcing the established community, though, the job wasn’t all that glamorous, and Matt spent most of his time routinely checking the various base systems as he was now. It had been a bit of a challenge to adjust to seeing and reading things without his glasses, but with the mixture of alien languages and symbols this base used, Matt had become accustomed to recognizing the important ones with ease. Color coding was also a widespread problem solver.

Matt sighed and continued down the line of glowing lights that appeared no more out of sync to him than usual, perking up a bit as he heard the sound of footsteps pick up on the roof above him. The underground cellar he was checking now covered the general maintenance of the electrical and heating systems for the compound, and the increase of ruckus in the facility above made Matt a little uneasy. There wasn’t really a precedent of any kind of catastrophe occurring here that would inspire panic, but the events that happened next only served to reinforce his belief in trusting his intuition.

“Matt, are you almost finished up down there?” Sam’s voice crackled through the radio attached to Matt’s hip, its static laced tone causing a metallic echo that bounced between the walls. “There’s something I think you should see.”

“Yeah, Dad, I’ll head back up in a minute.”

A heavy silence preceded Sam’s reply, and Matt swallowed reflexively. “I don’t know if we have a minute.”

Suddenly, the piercing and repetitive shriek of a siren broke through the compound’s speakers, partially drowning out Sam’s voice the second time he radioed. Matt tucked his notebook and pen away as he sprinted towards the cellar exit, climbing to the floor above swiftly and silently. He narrowly avoided getting trampled as he burst into the hallway above. Warning lights and sirens were blaring in tandem as Matt ducked into the chaos in the hall, weaving his way through the equally hurried and frantic bodies as he made his way out of the previous wing to the main control hub.

“What’s our status, what did the radar pick up?” he demanded as he burst into the room, wasting no time in making his way to the control panel and its several monitors.

“Looks like a foreign object, heading this way at high velocity,” Sam answered, slightly distracted himself as he typed away at the keyboard before him. “It’s too small for our radars to determine exactly what kind of object it is yet.”

“Is it just a single bogey or are we gonna have a fleet on our hands?” Matt asked, leaning over to examine the same screen Sam was interpreting.

“There doesn’t appear to be any outside interference or accompaniment, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t some kind of distraction for a bigger trap.”

Matt grit his teeth, patting his dad on the back before turning to head back out.

“Matt, where do you think you’re going?”

“If it’s going to be something unfriendly, we’ll need someone out there to greet it. Or detain it. Whatever’s going to give us the best outcome.”

“I just said it could be a trap. We can’t be too hasty--”

“We don’t have time to worry about hastiness in a situation like this. You know that! This is the first contact we’ve had from a any outside anomaly since the first big break that got us here. If it’s some sort of tracker, or a signal that the Galra’ve located us, it needs to be dealt with before it can relay any information back to its home base.”

“None of our missiles are able to get a lock on it, Commanders,” one of the weapon monitors interrupted. Matt’s fists clenched at the news. “It’s like it’s dodging everything we try to lob at it, or it’s destroying them before they’re able to reach. I still can’t get a reading on what kind of defense system it’s employing.”

“And what about offensive?”

“Negative, it hasn’t deployed anything apart from defensive measures.”

“I’m going out there, Dad, I’ll take a team with me. But we have to know what this is. It’s outsmarting all our equipment, we can’t take a chance.”

Without waiting for a response, Matt exited the room and stopped by one of the compound’s several weapon caches, rounding up some trusted soldiers as he made his way out. A system of training and appropriate drills for all types of emergency situations had been established not long after the settlement was appropriately set up. Matt was grateful to be working with people who were on the same page and who had some form of experience with this type of situation. He and his makeshift team carefully made their way to the impact zone after the object hit, a strange aura of purple smoke rising from it. Matt and the team were all too familiar with the overbearing shade that accompanied most if not all official Galra Empire property. Matt raised his stun staff as he broke away from the group, directing them to stay back as he approached and examined the object. If there were going to be any losses from this endeavor, he wanted them to be as minimal as possible.

Matt crept closer to the shallow crater, surprised that whatever seemed to have hit didn’t appear to be a technological or weaponized device of any sort. In fact it didn’t even appear to be a device. As Matt came to the edge of the crater he dropped his staff, dropping to his knees in the same moment as his eyes fell upon the last thing he expected to see.

“Shiro?”

His voice was dry and hoarse as Matt shuffled closer on his knees, falling to his hands as he leaned closer and the purple steam cleared. Shiro, the Takashi Shirogane, the Garrison officer and long lost friend that Matt had hoped but couldn’t believe survived the Galra arena, was nestled in the rocky earth. He appeared entirely unharmed, bearing no scars but the ones from his experiences with the Galra and their unique brand of both testing and torture. Matt felt tears drip down his face as a strangled cry escaped his throat. He held his breath for a moment, wondering if the next time he blinked the scene before him would vanish.

“Commander, is everything alright?”

Matt’s senses snapped back to reality as he wiped his eyes roughly, reaching down and lugging his friend out of his hole. “I need a stretcher and our top medical personnel ASAP! We’ve got another survivor here, we need to make sure he’s stable!”

Matt was reluctant to let Shiro leave his side yet again, but for the sake of ensuring his friend’s health and recovery from whatever kind of journey he’d just made, he knew it was necessary. Handing him off to their chief medical staff, Matt collapsed into his father’s arms the moment Sam came for him. The two held each other, exhausted from both surprise and nerves as the reality that their third musketeer had finally returned hit them. Battered, war worn, and having just gone through some sort of mystical space journey that neither Matt nor Sam expected they’d be able to comprehend, they were both just relieved to know Shiro was alive. Yet another lost sheep had made it back to the fold. Reunited with his father and his dearest friend, maybe the idea that there really was a better and successful future ahead wasn’t as hopeless as Matt had thought.

They sat silently together in the medical bay hall, neither refusing to leave the area until they got confirmation of Shiro’s status. It took every ounce of self control for Matt not to seize the first alien that stepped out of the room, his nerves clenched for whatever news came next. His eyes darted to the doctor that stepped out, but like many of the aliens he had encountered in this new phase of life, Matt wasn’t completely accustomed to reading their unique expressions.

“Is he going to be alright? Is he alive?” he blurted, holding back his body but not his tongue.

The doctor waited a moment before answering. “He’s alive, and stable. Or at least, as stable as he can be. He appears to be suspended in a state of self preservation, but even with our technology and resources, it’s a challenge to accurately determine the details of this state or how long he’ll stay in it.”