The Greatest Gift A Voltron Christmas Tale
Chapter Two
The Academy Years
"Mother please, I need your help." A woman's voice pleaded to her vid-com.
"No! Absolutely not!"
"Why not? What's one more?"
"I will not have the son of that deserter living in my house. It's embarrassing enough that your husband is in prison."
"Mother! Don't start with that again!. What's wrong, he's just a boy…"
"No! There are homes for cases like his and it's not mine! I'll see you and my grandchildren tomorrow and no one else. Do you understand?"
"Yes Mother" Mrs. Kray cut the transmission and let her head thump to the desk. She then slowly rose up and flinched as she met the gaze of the one person she didn't want to face. A seven year old Keith was staring blankly back at her. "Keith? You heard that? Oh Keith…" She rushed over to him but he evaded her outstretched arms and sprinted away. "Keith… I'm sorry…I…" She dropped crumpling to the floor.
It had been a little over a year since Keith had come to live with them. But, now with her husband in prison and infant to care for… not to mention her four other growing children. She had to stop working, relying on government hand-outs and the aid of her family. Her husband's money had been cut off once his court-martial was final, as was the money Keith would have received from his father's death benefits. Desperate, she had to move to a small apartment but still she could not get by and her family was suffering because of it. Her mother finally offering her the only means out. She and her family could go and live with her mother but Keith would be left behind.
That evening after dinner, Keith sat hiding in the hall as Mrs. Kray and their guest Admiral Jones talked. The Admiral took her into his comforting arms. "I'll do what I can. God knows I owe his parents that. I owe them my life many times over."
"But how? He hasn't any means. How can he possibly afford what you suggest?" She sniffed.
"The boy is gifted like his father. They'll just have to make room for him." He smiled. "Besides I have connections."
"But he's so young?"
"I know. But he's a smart kid and he's done a lot of growing up this last year. He'll be fine. You'll see."
"But what if he doesn't want to? It's going to be so difficult all on his own. The stories my husband has told me about what goes on there…"
"If he is anything at all like his father he'll be just fine." He hugged her.
Keith got up from his hiding spot and wandered into the room he shared with the four other children. Ignoring them, he flopped onto his bed next to his already packed bag, the head of his stuffed black lion poking out the top. He was scared. Scared of the unknown future that was before him. Yes, he always wanted to go but now? So soon? They'll eat him alive. How could he possibly survive? He was just going to have to suck it up and do it. Not like the options were all that great. He grabbed his bag and marched out of the room, down the short hall and right up to a surprised Admiral Jones, determination set in his youthful dark eyes. "I'm ready Admiral. Take me to the academy."
Keith was to spend the next two weeks with Admiral Jones as the man took care of the last of his business on the training base. Then it would be off to the Academy. On the first evening the Admiral returned to the suite he had been assigned. Walking in the door he found Keith reading a book out on the balcony. He approached the boy, sat down across from him and handed him a brand new portable computer. "You're going to need that where you're going. It's top of the line, just like you." He watched as Keith's eyes boggled at the slim metal case running his fingers over it. The Admiral winked to the boy. "You'll need to practice with it. I put some games in there too. Go ahead and try them, they're fun."
Keith looked up stunned, having lived with so little the last year this was beyond his imaginings. "Th…thank you."
"You're welcome." He smiled back. "There's also maps of the academy and all sorts of study guides, everything you're going to need. Don't stay up too late, alright?" Keith nodded eyes still looking at the gift. The admiral stood reaching out to ruffle Keith's hair. "See you in the morning."
The two weeks pass quickly for Keith totally absorbed in the new information that was now at his fingertips. He played all the games but soon got bored with them. Then he was lost in reading the study guides, seeing all the things that he might get to learn. All of it was endlessly fascinating to him.
The two soon were on a flight, a flight to take Keith to his unknown future. He was still nervous and unsure if they would even accept him but the Admiral kept telling him everything would be fine, and if by the odd chance that they wouldn't take him, there were many other schools that would.
"Alright Keith, you just wait right here while I talk with the Dean. I won't be long. Okay?"
The boy nodded but didn't look up.
Admiral Jones then entered the Dean's office. "Hello stranger!" He smiled at the woman sitting behind the desk.
She stood and moved around toward him. "Why if it isn't old Commander Jones or eh, should I say Admiral Jones? Some guys have all the luck." She gave him a hug.
"Well hell, Chris, look at you Mrs. Dean. Not too shabby yourself."
She leaned back on the edge of her desk, crossing her arms. "So tell me, Admiral Jones, what do you want now? I know this isn't a social call."
"Boy you never did beat around the bush did you?"
"Nah, run in with both guns blaring. That's me. Quit stalling."
He laughed then quickly turned serious. "I need you to find a full scholarship for me."
"What! Do you think I have those just lying around? Have you seen the waiting list to get in here? It's a mile long."
"This is a special case."
"With you they're all special. No I'm sorry I can't. The council would have my head if they thought I was playing favorites."
"Come on, Chris, just meet him."
"Oh no, not again. Parading your hard luck cases isn't going to get you anywhere."
"Humor me. Okay?"
"Fine, make it quick."
He stepped out the door and walked up to Keith tapping him on the shoulder. "Come on. It'll be okay." The boy slowly got up and followed him back into the office. "Here he is, my latest protégé." He stepped aside revealing Keith.
Chris laughed. "You've got to be kidding me? What is he, six?"
Keith looked up a bit dejected but remained quiet. The Admiral smiled, putting a supportive hand on the boy's shoulder. "He is seven and a half."
"Oh… I see." She shook her head. "Still, I can count on one hand how many cadets we've accepted under the age of nine. There is just no way."
Keith's eyes fell on a medal framed on the dean's desk. Mesmerized, he walked up to it, touching the frame. "You were at Qitlal?"
Chris' eyes flashed to the boy in shock as the admiral smiled down at Keith. Chris picked up the frame reverently. "Well, yes I was, as was the Admiral here. But how did you know what this was for? That campaign is not in the history books." She kneeled down to get a better look at the boy, studying his face intently.
Keith almost spoke but the Admiral hushed him and pulled Keith behind him. "Well, sorry to have wasted your time." He turned to leave.
"Get back here!" She stood up.
The Admiral smiled and slowly turned, handing her a file. "These are his scores on the aptitude tests. I promise you they are real."
She quickly looked over the file. "Impossible! These are his scores?" The Admiral nodded at her. She looked down to Keith. "You took these tests?"
Keith dropped his head. "He tricked me, saying they were games. I messed up didn't I?"
"Sounds like something he'd do." She shot the Admiral a glare. "Intelligence, problem solving, military tactics and the combat simulator, all top of the charts. I've never seen such a thing in someone so young. Tell me, how in the heck does a seven year old know military tactics?"
The Admiral smiled. "Let me introduce you to Keith Kogane…" His grin grew wider. "Jr." Her jaw hit the floor, followed by her knees as she dropped in front of the boy grabbing his shoulders and meeting his eyes. The Admiral continued. "Spitting image ain't he? And by his scores, that's not all he inherited." The Admiral grew serious. "Look, I know you heard what happened and I know his parents would want this for him. Chris, it's you or a foster home and you know as well as I, he would be stifled in a home. He needs this and we need him."
Chris smiled at the boy. "Your mother was a teammate of mine." She fought off a sniff, shaking it off and squared up. "It would be an honor to have you attend this academy."
The Admiral smiled down to Keith. "Well, what do you think, Keith?"
Keith bit his lip, fidgeting, his hand going to his hair. "How can I? I heard you talking. I can't pay. Where would I stay?"
The Admiral put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll arrange the whole thing. You'll get a scholarship and live here."
Chris grinned. "I can arrange for odd jobs for you to pay for your basic needs other than food and housing. So?"
Keith looked up to the two adults and slowly nodded his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
A raven haired nine year old boy dressed in a Galaxy Garrison cadet uniform was quickly gathering up all his belongings, shoving his computer and supplies into his bag.
Another dark haired boy with his bag already over his shoulder laughed. "Hey Keithey, to bad you're gonna miss the firefight today." He made a gun with his hand and pretended to shoot Keith. "I'm gonna blow your record away."
"You know I have to work…'Jeffey'… Don't rub it in."
"Sorry Keith, you know I am gonna miss you not being there. The others make too easy targets. Next time?"
"Count on it!" Keith threw his bag over his shoulder and headed to the warehouses where he had been assigned for the day. In order to help pay for his personal supplies Keith has had to work in his off time doing odd jobs around the academy. Today was one of is favorites. Colonel Graham has taken on the menial task of inventorying all the warehouses in his off time stating that doing the work brings him closer to his troops. Keith had actually been able to see and touch many of the weapons they had been studying in class. As well as he had been able to get to know Colonel Graham, a man he truly respected and looked up to.
Keith entered and set down his bag, his eyes drawn to a large crate on the counter. He walked up to it, clambering up on a chair to get a better view. In it was an Alliance laser pulse cannon. "Wow!" Keith breathed as he ran his hand along the smooth metal.
"Cadet Kogane!"
"Yes, sir." Keith leapt down and saluted the officer but was quickly taken aback by what he saw. Colonel Graham was bleary-eyed and unshaven. His manner was harsh and he looked as if he had been drinking.
"Are you being paid to ogle weapons?" The Colonel barked.
"No, sir."
"I need that inventory now!" Graham shouted and went back into his office.
"Yes sir." Keith turned and walked over to the computer desk when he noticed an open message laying on it. He was about to move it aside it when his eye caught a word and he began to read.
We regret to inform you that your son, Lieutenant Robert Graham, died this morning as a result of injuries sustained during a Drule raid. Everything possible was done for his comfort. His service record was impeccable and his death is a great loss for us all. We await instructions from you.
General Hardy
Galaxy Garrison Command
Grahams son? Keith put the telegram down and cautiously made his way into the man's office seeing Colonel Graham standing there at a counter, the smell of alcohol hitting Keith full force. The Colonel was intent on putting some rounds into a transport box.
Keith tentatively approached. "Colonel Graham, do you want something… Anything?"
"No." Was Grahams sharp reply.
"Anything I can do in here?"
"No."
Keith looked curiously at Graham, seeing now how truly drunk the man was. Graham fumbled and dropped some of the rounds on the floor. "I'll get them, sir." Keith bent down and picked up the rounds and put them back in the box.
Graham waved Keith aside and moved to sit in an old chair in the corner of the office. Keith then turned the crate around from which Graham has taken the rounds, reading its label. 'live munitions'. Keith's eyes widened in concern. Live?
"Take that box over to Commander Blaine on the training range. She's waiting for them."
Keith picked up the transport box, not knowing what to do or say. His eyes again went to the crate of live ammo. Keith's fingers trembled. "Yes, sir." Keith stood still, horrified. "They're doing reenactment drills there today, aren't they, sir? Are you sure this is what they need?"
"Don't question me boy." Graham growing more frustrated tossed a file at him. "Will you get going!"
"Yes, sir." Keith quickly left the supply warehouse and then aimlessly wandered around the compound not knowing what to do. Live rounds on a training field? Colonel what were you thinking? This can't be right. He couldn't deliver the box. Nor could he tell anyone what happened, Graham would be court-martialed for sure. He instead went to the gardens and found a tree and slumped down under it, the box cradled carefully on his lap.
An hour later Keith fearfully returned to hear Colonel Graham talking loud on the com. Keith came to stand in the doorway.
"Those rounds should have been there an hour ago. I'll be over in five minutes, Commander." He hung up the com and turned to see Keith in the doorway. "Where's Commander Blaine's training munitions? "He grabbed Keith by the shirt and drug him into the office.
"Training munitions?"
"Did you hear what I said?"
Keith was frightened out of his mind. "Yes, sir, I …"
Colonel Graham grabbed Keith by the shoulders and started shaking him. "What kind of game are you playing, anyway? Why didn't you deliver them right away? Don't you know they're waiting for them?"
"You're hurting me!" Keith cried.
"You lazy loafer!"
"Colonel, you don't know what you're doing. I can't give them these rounds they're…" Keith eyes were wide with fear. "I know you're unhappy. You got that message, and you're upset. You mixed up those rounds. It wasn't your fault, Colonel…" Keith pointed to the box.
Graham savagely grabbed it, breathing heavily, staring at the boy venomously.
Keith was trembling as he spoke. "Just look and see what you did! Look at the crate you took the rounds from. They're live not training rounds! Live!" Keith pulled away terrified. "I know how you feel … and…" Keith faltered off, shirking away, cupping his bruised shoulders with his has hands.
Graham looked at the large crate of live rounds, which had not been replaced on its shelf. He then tore open the transport box pulling out a round and examining it. Abruptly he threw the box to the table and turned to look at Keith again who had backed up into a corner whimpering, hurt, and frightened. Graham stepped toward him.
"Don't hurt me Please." The boy cried.
Graham swept the boy to him in a hug and, sobbing hoarsely, crushed Keith in his embrace. "Oh my god…"
"Please don't hurt me again!" Keith sobbed.
"Oh, Keith, Keith . . . "
"Colonel, I won't ever tell anyone. I know what you're feeling. I won't ever tell a soul. I promise."
"Oh, Son." Graham sobbed uncontrollably, hanging onto Keith as if he were his own boy.
It was cold December morning and one week till Christmas. A group of senior cadets had gathered in the motor court all bundled up due to the cold. Keith was standing with them his hands buried in his pants pockets. He was trying to smile but it looked pathetically fake.
An eighteen year old young man dressed to the tee for a skiing holiday, his brown hair perfectly in place, walked up to Keith. "Hey buddy, come on." He wrapped an arm around Keith's shoulders. "Drop this obligation stuff and come with us. It's our last Christmas together at the academy and I'm gonna make it a weekend to remember!"
Keith chuckled. "Come on Lance, you know I can't afford to go to Aspen for the weekend and besides I'll be missing out on double wages all week."
A dark haired young man approached. "Will you stop with the money, Keith? We'll all pitch in. Between the two of us it's not that much."
"Not so fast Jeff, We'll pitch in too." Two young women walked up, smiling.
Keith dropped his head to the ground and sighed. He glanced back up to the girls. "Thanks Lisa, Ginger. But I can't ask you all to spend your money on me. You just go have fun. I'll be alright. Anyway, I really need the time to study."
"I see." Another dark haired young man joined the huddle speaking in a heavy Scandinavian accent. "He's going to make sure he keeps ahead of you in the points, eh Jeff?"
"No way!" Jeff grinned, holding up his duffle. "I've got my computer right here, I'll be studying too."
"Oh yeah, sure you will." Lance smirked shooting a sideways glance to Ginger and Lisa.
Keith shook his head and then with a smile he raised a brow. "If you guys don't hurry, you'll miss your flight." Everyone suddenly realized the time started to scramble around gathering up all their bags. Keith laughed at them as they all squeezed into Lance's small car. "Have fun." Keith waved at them.
"If you change your mind you know where we'll be the next three days. And remember you're welcome to come to my folks for Christmas." Keith just smiled slightly shaking his head. Lance grinned back at him, "See ya buddy!" and squealed his tires as he pulled away.
Keith watched them drive off, all of them stretching out the windows waving goodbye to him. He had made some great friends over the last few years, but he could never tell them why he really didn't want to go.
He made his way down the now quiet corridor, back to the room he shared with Jeff, Sven, and Lance. Normally the dorm was bustling with activity but now most everyone was gone, gone home for the holidays. Everyone had somewhere to be, everyone but Keith. His eyes targeted a colorful ornament hanging from the ceiling in the hall. He leaped up grabbing it, ripping it down, and slam dunked it into a nearby trash can. "Stupid Christmas."
He reached the room and fell onto the sofa, propping his feet up on the table and clicking on the vid screen. There too he was bombarded with images of Christmas. He frantically started flicking through the channels but it seemed every channel was showing some stupid Christmas movie. "Great a thousand channels and all crap!" He flopped down flat on the sofa and closed his eyes, blocking out the screen. "Stupid Christmas." He muttered and slowly drifted off.
He soon started to dream. He was a little boy again running through the snow, he soon reached his dark house. Bursting open the door, he ran in. Inside the house was all aglow for the season. The tree was twinkling, the fire was burning bright, candles were lit everywhere. His heart started to race. "Mommy! … Daddy! … " But then what he saw freezes him cold. There on the sofa lays the bloody bodies of his parents, half battered and half charred. He spun around to the playpen and in it lay the mangled bodies of his sisters, their ruined remains shimmering in the lights from the tree. Keith moved to the middle of the room spinning from one horror to the next dizzying himself as he dropped to the floor sobbing "Mommy! … Daddy! … Don't leave me!" Looking up again he saw the tree looming over him, mocking him, twinkling cheerfully. Then he heard distant voices. "Open your present, Keith. Yes Keith, open your present." He looked under the gaudy tree and saw a big red package. He apprehensively pulled it out and began unwrapping it, opening the box. He reached in and pulled out a mangled stuffed black lion dripping with blood. His small hands tightened around it in his anger, blood dripping into his little fingers and down his arms. He cradled the lion to his chest and sobbed, rocking back and forth hugging the lion. The old clock in the hall clicked and started to chime. It rang out into the dead house… twelve times… Merry Christmas, Keith.
He woke up with a start, clutching at his chest looking for the Lion that wasn't there and gasping for air. It was the same dream he has had for years, still so vivid. He trembled, pulling up a blanket to cuddle in, very thankful to be alone. This was something he never wanted to have to explain to anyone. He pulled the blanket in close as he glanced back to the vid screen.
An old black and white Christmas movie was flickering before him. A man was running up to a snow covered sign. "Hello, Bedford Falls!" The man grinned and turned, running through the falling snow up the main street of the town. As he ran, he passed some late shoppers on the street. "Merry Christmas!" The people responded in kind. "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas, George!" He continued to run. "Merry Christmas, movie house! … Merry Christmas, emporium! … Merry Christmas, you wonderful old Building and Loan! …"
In mocking tone Keith glared at the images on the screen. "Merry Christmas Bedford Falls? Ughhhh. Who in the hell writes this crap anyway?" Keith scoffed switching it off and rolled over. He closed his eyes again in the futile attempt to get some sleep. But there was no restful sleep for Keith. Never at Christmas.
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