I just wanna know. Spill it, or your lion will be rubber cemented to the floor.
No, we’re not doing that. Fine. Don’t tell the other Paladins or Coran or Allura.
It was my second year at the Garrison, already in the flight exploration program and having the time of my life. Honestly, you think the Garrison’s in the middle of nowhere, but there’s a small town about five miles away that does serve as a midway outpost for Garrison supplies. You learn the routes of the shipping trucks, you can hitch a ride there and back or hope your friend actually brought a bike with them.
But the fun option was to hitchhike on the trucks. In that town, there’s a pub and…I wouldn’t call it dingy. It’s actually pretty nice for what it is, probably because Garrison officers swing by it so much.
They also don’t card there.
So I went out with some friends, got into a drinking competition, and honestly, I don’t remember a lot after that. What I do remember is waking up in Keith’s shack with the worst migraine and the bike Keith has now.
Apparently, I was dared to break into a junkyard, get the bike flying, and keep it. It was in rough shape when I…well, stole it, but nobody came looking for it since it was going to be destroyed (really a waste, it’s a nice ride) and we put a lot of effort into fixing and upgrading it. But yeah, I guess things like that happen a lot?
It’s been over seven years, so they can’t charge me for anything now, but the fewer people who know, the better.