Chapter Text
When Pidge was a baby, the sky darkened and demons descended.
Humanity fought them off, barely. The demon force was small, but strong, magic like no one had ever seen at their behest. They left scars on the very ground beneath our feet, relentless in their search for something, goal unknowable. Be it through luck or determination, they were beaten back, the last demon retreating with their life, leaving humanity with a brand new nightmare to keep them up at night.
Well, that's what Pidge's mother said. The demons were in fact Galra, aliens, and it was nighttime when they attacked, so it didn't really 'darken' as much as it was already dark. Their 'magic' was incredibly advanced technology. She was just melodramatic, but that was why Pidge always preferred her bedtime stories.
Matt, though, usually requested their father instead, who kept the light on and didn't try to spook them. What a big baby.
Yes, to be fair, the outposts they stayed at when their father was stationed there were creepy at night. The thing about research facilities is that they had a lot more space than they did people - Something very apparent when everyone went to bed and you could hear sound echo in the halls.
Still, Pidge teased him relentlessly. It was a sisterly duty.
Their mother was technically a freelance gardener, though with all the moving around, she'd often go months without taking a job. Pidge didn't think she minded - She filled her days with her passion: hacking computer science.
It was fascinating to watch her work. Pidge preferred a computer when she was taking it apart and putting it back together, but she could appreciate the art in picking it apart with just code, wreaking havoc without touching a screwdriver. Matt tended to lose interest pretty fast, wandering off to read a textbook or work on his newest project.
He was pretty private with them, right up until their father had a bit of freetime, and he'd leap at the chance to spend time with him, whether he had to share his work or not. It was obvious from when they were little that Matt was going to follow in his father's footsteps. He had the same mad drive for the unknown and same lack of a social life to support it.
Pidge, though she shared their love of science, couldn't see herself doing the same. Her projects were her own, not something made on orders.
The research that her father spent so much time on was on behalf of the Galaxy Garrison - Earth's space force and research body. Apparently a pretty niche group before the Galra attack, but of course one of the most important in the years since. Her father's research was classified, naturally, but Pidge picked up a lot from snooping around with Matt and, when she was older, hacking some of the less classified stuff. The Garrison was studying the tech the Galra left behind: Various wrecked ships and a few weapons.
When Pidge was ten and Matt fifteen, they snuck out of their bedrooms and broke into their father's lab. There wasn't much to do on base, okay? Pidge usually tried to befriend the other kids, but there were never many, and they moved around often, so it was sisyphian, really. With just her and Matt, well, they got bored of videogames and studying eventually. Especially knowing there was a treasure trove of alien technology a few doors down.
"Wow! Its a... Well, its probably a weapon." Matt said, staring at some sort of glowing stick inside a glass box.
"Do you think this is an engine part?" Pidge asked, peering at something that maybe resembled a gear. "Do space engines even work like regular engines?"
"Probably not. I suppose that's why they're called 'drives' in comic books."
"Wow, you went a whole five minutes without mentioning your nerdy stuff."
"Says the girl with a box of computer parts under her bed."
The lab didn't house all of the Galra technology, of course. A lot of the more functional stuff was elsewhere for practical tests (classified information that Pidge 100% didn't know). But the glowing stick and engine parts were still awesome, and the weird, purplish blade half-melted to some ship debris was intriguing.
"You know, there's a lot of undamaged writing on these," Pidge said, looking over some debris. "I wonder if anyone's translated it."
"I don't see how. We don't know anything about the Galra language."
"How did we communicate with them, then?"
"We didn't. You know, they opened fire and then it was all fighting and eventually they left."
"Then how do we know they're called the Galra?"
"...Huh, I'm not sure."
Matt joined the Garrison cadet programme a year later. Pidge was expecting it, of course, but that didn't make it less weird for it to only be the three of them. Pidge had shared a room her whole life, and now it just felt... strange.
Yet, even the base wasn't as weird as home. They didn't live on base permanently, even though they spent most of the year there. The Holts had a nice little flat in the city, nothing fancy, but something stable to return to. The first time they went back there after Matt left they found it just as they'd left it - Complete with Matt's half finished homework and untied shoes by the door.
...Pidge didn't miss him, really. He was a nerdy, wimpy loser.
She continued on, working on her projects - Most recently, a handheld video game. Pidge showed it to her mother who thought it was great, and she appreciated that, but it didn't mean much coming from her. She was her mother. She had to say nice things. When Matt said it, he really meant it. But he wasn't here, and finding time to show her father was always difficult.
It didn't help that her father's newest project was more time consuming and more classified than ever before - Meaning that Pidge and her mother couldn't even join him on base.
"Its only a few months," He told Pidge, arm around her shoulders. "I'll call you every day, and you can tell me all about whatever trouble your mother has gotten in to. The time will pass before you know it."
The time did pass. Problem was, the project got extended. And then extended again.
Oh, Pidge was sure it was important. Whether the Garrison publically acknowledged it or not, the Galra would be back one day, and Earth needed any edge they could get to defend themselves. That didn't mean she had to like it.
One day, sitting in the garden of one of her mother's clients, Pidge asked why the Galra had come on the first place (it wasn't the question she truly wanted to ask, but its the only one she could).
"There are theories," Her mother said. "Some think they wanted our resources, some think they felt threatened, some think they just like to fight - We don't actually know, though."
"But we do think they'll be back?"
"They might not be. There weren't that many ships, so maybe they didn't care that much. But they might care a lot, so we assume that to be the case and prepare for it. We don't really have a choice."
Right.
When Pidge was thirteen, the Garrison announced to the world that they'd successfully created a spaceship using Galra technology.
She already knew, of course. Matt couldn't keep his mouth shut at the best of times, let alone when he was on the team that made it.
"Junior lab assistant," Pidge pointed out. "There's a cap on how smug you can be when you're the lowest ranked team member."
"Still! I was the comms officer for a solid half of the practical tests." Matt flopped next to Pidge on her bed. "It's exhausting being that cool, you know?"
Pidge rolled her eyes. "Like you'd know."
"I would. You'll see."
Frustratingly, he refused to elaborate on that statement.
At dinner that night, with all four of them (more common than it was before Matt graduated, but still rare), they talked about Bae Bae and the new neighbours and any random thing. But Matt and their father kept exchanging looks, something clearly occupying their thoughts.
"This new spaceship sounds impressive," Pidge's mother said. "Though I didn't realise that was the main priority. We already had spaceships, you know?"
"Only one of several projects," Her father agreed. "Just so happened to be the first major thing to be functional."
"Is it the whole ship that's Galra based? Or just the engine?"
"Mostly just the engine," Her father looked at Matt. "Speaking of the ship, there's something we should mention."
Matt suddenly looked nervous.
"The ship, or, well, the engine, has had too many tests to count a this point," Her father continued. "But the actual end goal is to use it for missions."
Well yeah, obviously. It wasn't a museum piece.
"The first mission has been planned for a while, as part of the Garrison's five year plan. Its to set up a monitoring system at the edge of the solar system, specifically the moon Kerberos, to give us early warning and intel."
"Quite an ambitious first mission," Pidge's mother said. "Doesn't it take years to get out there?"
"That's the benefit of the new engine," Matt said. "Its just 57 days, or you know, two months, each way. The crew will be in cryo for most of it."
That was... specific.
"Impressive. Say, how many crew for a mission like that?"
"Kept it minimal, simpler that way," Pidge's father said. "Three crew members. One pilot, obviously. You've met Shiro?"
"Oh yes, of course. Great pilot. And the others?"
"...A scientist and a comms officer."
The room was silent for a moment. Then Pidge's mother started talking very loudly.
"Kerberos?? Both of you??"
"Its not really that far-"
"Oh yes it is!"
Pidge didn't hear most of what she said, brain still processing two months each way, before she looked at Matt and finally managed to speak.
"How did you get on this mission?"
"Uh- Wow??"
"Katie!" Her father said.
"In the sense that-!" Pidge rushed to speak. "There are more senior comms officers- Ah, congrats, bro!"
"Oh dear..." Her mother said.
"The ship's communications are wired a bit strangely, and Matt adapted to it most efficiently." Her father said.
"I am actually good at my job, you know." Matt said.
Pidge buried her face in her hands.
"Moving on," Her mother said. "When is this mission?"
"We launch in about six months," Her father said. "Time for the final test flights and mission planning and everything."
"Hmm," Her mother said. "Time for you to do the washing up as well."
The two of them walked the dishes into the kitchen.
"...Kerberos really is quite far." Pidge said.
"Its still the same solar system. In the grand scheme of space, that's nothing."
She took a breath. "True. Unfortunately you won't be far enough away for me to escape how much you stink."
"Rude!"
When Pidge was fourteen, her brother and her father went to space.
Before that, they saw them off near the lauchpad. It was an impressive spacecraft, not the largest Pidge had ever seen, but sporting all sorts of strange design features, plus the oh-so-special engine. It made up half of the ship, black and purple and strange.
"Smile!"
Dad and Matt did just that, arms around each other whilst Mom took their picture. She'd even brought out the fancy digital camera.
"Now you, Kat," Mom said. "Go stand between them."
Pidge did so, Bae Bae running after her. Dad just laughed, and they had a picture with the four of them.
On the sunny day, Dad's firm hand on one shoulder and Matt on her other side, helping to hold the wriggling dog, looking at Mom's smiling face... Pidge managed to feel joy for the day, rather than the nervous dread that'd kept her up lately.
Mom wasn't satisfied until they'd taken every combination of picture under the sun. The last was the photo Pidge took of her and Dad, holding in eachother like they had in their wedding photo.
Matt was in his uniform, but not yet his spacesuit. They'd need time to sort all that out before launch, so he'd have to leave soon.
She said goodbye to her father first.
"You'll barely have time to miss us," He said, hugging her tightly. "Keeping your mother out of trouble while we're gone. Think you can handle it?"
Pidge blinked rapidly. "Of course I can."
"That's my girl." He gave her one last squeeze before letting go.
Matt valiantly tried to tame his hair, ruffled from Mom's fuss.
"You may as well not bother," Pidge said. "You'll have helmet hair for the next four months."
"Which is bad enough! Its gotta at least be decent before I put my suit on."
They stood quietly for a moment. "Um... good luck."
"Thanks," Matt said. "I was meaning to give you these." He put something in her hands.
"Your loser glasses, really?" Matt hadn't needed glasses since he was thirteen, but he 'liked the look'.
"Can't exactly wear them under my helmet."
"So I'm lumped with them. I see. Well, don't expect to get them back."
"Oh, I'm sure I won't."
Matt patted Bae Bae on the head, and made to follow their father toward the launch tower.
Pidge watched for three seconds before running after him.
She crashed into her brother, squeezing the air out of him with the force of her hug.
"I don't actually want to keep your loser glasses."
Matt's arms came around her back. "I'm coming back, pigeon."
"I know. Otherwise I'll bribe Bae Bae until I'm his favourite."
"You haven't managed that in twelve years. I'm not worried."
Pidge pressed her head into his chest for a moment, before letting go and pushing herself away. "Well, go on then. Get out of my sight."
Later, in the obervation tower, Pidge's mother held her hand, and they watched Earth's fastest ship power up. Thirteen years of tireless research and setbacks had all led to this.
Pidge watched the engines fire, picturing her family strapped into their seats, and squeezed her mother's hand so hard she left marks.
The ship flew up into the atmosphere, and all thought was drowned out by the room's wild cheering.
Two months later, the Garrison received a confirmation of successful landing, and various notes from the crew. One such note was from Matt, addressed to Pidge.
'Its cold in space! I mean, I knew this was an ice moon, but I expected this million layer spacesuit to keep me warm. Not so lucky. Remind me never to complain about mom keeping the heat on again!'
Pidge read it over more times than necessary, relief running through her.
"One day for readings, one for set up, one just in case there's a delay," Her mother said. "They should be headed back soon."
Good.
...Only because Bae Bae missed them, of course.
A few days later, Pidge was roused from sleep. Her clock told her it was 6am, a little early for mom to be up, and Bae Bae was fast asleep on Matt's bed.
Still half-asleep, Pidge listened to the voices downstairs. One of them was her mother's, the others unfamiliar. New neighbours?
Her mother raised her voice, and suddenly Pidge was wide awake.
The conversation quietened, followed by the sound of the front door opening and shutting. Then... crying.
Pidge froze with her hand on her door handle. Something was wrong.
Her breathing picked up, moving back from the door. She felt dizzy. Something wet touched her ankle, and she barely avoided kicking Bae Bae in the head. The dog looked up at her, head cocked, tail wagging.
Pidge wasn't sure how long she stared back at her.
The door seemed immovable. As long as she didn't open it, everything was fine.
Bae Bae got bored, walking in a circle a few times before sticking her face under the bed and coming back with a toy. It was that stupid green thing Matt had won from a claw machine, smug for days afterward...
Pidge felt sick.
All of a sudden that room was suffocating. She stumbled into the corridor, door slammimg into the wall. Something in her heart pulled her toward the living room, even as she wished to never enter it.
Her mother looked up from where she was sat on the sofa, eyes red.
"Katie..." Pidge said nothing, throat sealed up. Her mother got up and walked over, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands.
"Oh baby..." She said. "I... Something has happened. Something bad."
No.
"Your father, and, and your brother..."
NO.
Pidge dropped her mother's hands and ran from the room. She was shaking, barely able to hold the door handle as she slammed it behind her. In her room, Bae Bae barked, whining, shut up shut up shut up-
This was a nightmare. This- This couldn't be real.
Her mother knocked on the door and Pidge shoved her chair in front of it, except no, wrong desk, it wasn't her chair-
She backed up, tripping over Bae Bae and knocking the things off of the dresser. Her keys, the penguin ornament, deodrant- Bae Bae whined, pushing her nose against her arm. And, and...
The frame was worn from age, just a cheap wooden thing. Inside it Bae Bae was a puppy, paws smaller than even two-year-old Pidge's hands. Holding her was...
Pidge's eyes blurred.
Matt held the puppy tight, grinning at the camera while Pidge climbed his arm. Bae Bae was a family dog, but not really, they'd gotten her to help with seven-year-old Matt's nightmares.
Bae Bae, Matt's dog, pushed her whimpering snout into Pidge's hand, and-
Pidge buried her face into her fur, barely even recognising the sound she made. Bae Bae pressed her body into her and she broke.
Pidge stared at the mug in front of her, unclear when her mother put it there.
It was evening, now. They haven't eaten all day. They wouldn't even if food was put in front of them. But her mother had just barely pulled Pidge from her room and clearly felt the need to do something.
Pidge's mouth was dry, so she drank the tea.
Her mother sat next to her at the dining table. Her head looked impossibly heavy as she propped it up with her arms.
Pidge's head pounded and she had the urge to scream, but she asked her question anyway.
"What happened?"
Her throat was dry and scratchy and her voice came out rough and quiet, but her mother understood.
"Something during takeoff..." She said, voice just as bad as Pidge's. "I... wasn't really listening. We're meant to go in tomorrow, to, to sort things out..."
Pidge nodded vaguely, feeling unreal.
"Sorry," Her mother said, and then Pidge was crushed in her arms. "I just..." She pressed her face into Pidge's hair, shoulders shaking.
Pidge understood. She wrapped her own arms around her, trying to remember the last hug her father had given her.
Pidge looked around her at all the uniformed officers and realised that she was still in her pajamas, hoodie overtop and battered shoes on her feet. She didn't much care.
The room she and her mother were led to was small, three seats lined up in front of a desk, currently manned by an older woman. Admiral Sanda, Pidge recalled.
She stood as they entered. "Mrs Holt. Katie." She held out her hand to shake, but neither of them took it. "I understand there are no words that are enough for what you're feeling right now, but I express my earnest condolences."
Pidge stared at the ground.
"Thank you," Her mother said. "Shall we sit?"
Sanda gestured them to the chairs. There was another man in the room, but he stood in the corner, ignoring the seat even as Sanda looked at him.
"Right then," She said. "I'll begin. Sometime after the crew confirmed they were preparing to leave the surface, the GGE ship was destroyed. All hands were lost."
Pidge took a breath.
"How, exactly?" Her mother asked, voice quiet.
"...We believe they crashed," Sanda said. "Pilot error."
"Pilot error?" The man in the corner said. "Takashi's the best pilot you've ever had and you know it."
"That doesn't make him immune to mistakes," Sanda said. "It likely happened shortly after take off, where the gravity would make piloting the most difficult."
"Don't you know?" The man said, voice hard. "The ship sent logs to Earth regularly, every few minutes. Why are you guessing about what happened?"
"Our information is limited," Sanda said. "Whilst you're right, that is usually the case, many logs were not sent to us around the time of the incident. Likely miscompiled. The system on the ship was unfamiliar, and the mission tiring, so it would have been an easy mistake for the comms officer to make-"
"Matt would never!" Pidge snapped, glaring at the admiral. "He knows how to compile a damn ship log, and you picked him because he knew the system! He wouldn't make a stupid mistake like that."
"I- Of course. I was speaking theoretically."
Pidge glared, because she was only saying what Pidge wanted to hear, but her mother put a hand on her shoulder, and Pidge ran out of fuel.
"And your reasons for believing it was a crash?" The man asked.
"The last information we have indicates the ship's systems were functioning optimally. The monitoring equipment was set up without incident. There is nothing to indicate another issue."
"In other words, you don't know what happened, so you've decided its Takashi's fault?" The man snapped.
"No one is blaming anyone," Sanda said. "We are sharing the information we have with you, something we are not obligated to do. You do not have to agree with our assessment, but know that we did not make it lightly."
"No, just as quickly as possible, so you can save face."
"Commander." Sanda warned.
"Admiral," Pidge's mother cut in. "I'm sure you understand that we are all a bit sensitive right now."
Sanda nodded. "Of course. I don't expect any of you to be at your best."
"Good," Mom said. "Because I would like to tell you you're an idiot, calling us in here to tell us you think this is our family's fault and then expecting us to be grateful for it."
"Mrs Holt," Sanda said, affronted. "I feel you've gotten the wrong idea about this meeting."
"Its not much of a meeting," Pidge mumbled. "Reddit threads are more organised than this."
"Was there anything else, or are we done here?" The man said.
"That is all, but-"
"Then I'm taking my daughter home," Pidge's mother said. "Quite why you felt the need to have this meeting so immediately I have no idea. None of this was urgent."
Pidge lost track of the man quickly after they left the room, though she wasn't trying very hard. As they walked down to the entrance, Pidge thought about Sanda's explanation.
"Mom," Pidge said. "Do you..."
"Yes, Katie?"
Pidge wasn't sure how to ask 'Do you think they were scared?' without bringing them both to tears.
"Never mind."
Back home, it was harder to think about anything, really. Everywhere she turned she saw Matt's old textbooks or Bae Bae or her father's long service award, or a dozen other things.
Pidge wasn't sure she'd ever feel hungry again, but their neighbours brought them stacks of tupperware meals, and her mother badgered her into eating at least a little. She felt a little less awful afterward, but it hardly made a dent in her lethargy.
Days passed. One morning, she woke up, kicking her blanket off of the sofa. She hasn't slept in her room... Since. Her mother was still in bed, a side effect of her very late nights doing who knew what.
Pidge turned on the TV for the background noise and went to brush her teeth. When she came back, the news was playing.
"Today, an unfortunate tragedy - For their loved ones and for humanity's future. The groundbreaking spaceflight to Kerberos ran into difficulty several days ago, resulting in the unfortunate death of all three crewmembers."
Pidge grabbed the remote, ready to turn it off. She didn't care to hear this again.
"The Galaxy Garrison has issued a statement on the matter. It follows 'Our hearts are with the crew's loved ones at this time. Though we do not yet have a definitive answer to the incident, our experts believe that the prototype design amplified what should have been minor piloting mistakes, resulting in this tragedy.' "
Pidge stared at the screen, unnoticed tears dripping down her face. That'd been happening a lot lately, but she didn't usually feel so...
"One has to ask, is the Garrison under too much pressure to deliver? I can think of no other reason to send out a ship clearly filled with design flaws."
Angry.
Before she knew it, she'd thrown the remote across the room. The plastic shattered on impact, tumbling to the ground, and Pidge gripped her hair madly.
'Prototype design' It was no fucking prototype, that ship was tested to hell and back and cleared by every scientist even remotely qualified. The Garrison was happy enough to send it into space, but as soon as something went wrong, it was incomplete, apparently. Liars.
'Filled with design flaws' They knew what they were doing, casting doubt on the ship like that, casting doubt on- Twenty nine years her father had worked for them, had dedicated day after day to project after project, losing sleep and working even on his time off, just for them to turn around and throw him under the bus! It wasn't enough that they thought Matt screwed up, they also had to go on record and say this whole mess was her father's fault?
Pidge's chest heaved, and she itched to throw something else, to fucking scream-
"Katie!" Her mother was in front of her. "What happened?"
Something inside her burst. "They said its dad's fault! They work him to exhaustion until he makes an engine for them and happily use it, but as soon as they don't know what went wrong, they throw him under the fucking bus! Its dad's fault, its Matt's fault, its that pilot's fault, its everyone's fucking fault apart from the people that sent them there!"
"Kat-"
"They can't just do that! They can't just sacrifice their lives for their stupid fucking five year plan and then sacrifice their reputations for their stupid fucking image! They can't get away with that!"
"Katie!" Her mother gripped her shoulders. "I know, okay? Its horrible. They can't get away with it. And they won't."
Pidge took a deep breath, face wet, and looked into her mother's eyes, following her as she led. Her mother's room was neater than Pidge's, piles of random items contained to certain areas and her desk relatively clear. Her computer, though, was a beast, a massive tower covered in wires and three separate monitors.
"It occured to me in that meeting," She said. "When that man said Shiro was the best pilot the Garrison has ever had. He's not wrong. In fact, he was their poster boy, the guy they show off as a success story."
"Right."
"He's one of the best known faces of the Garrison. So anything that hurts Shiro's reputation hurts the Garrison's reputation. That's something you avoid - If something theatens your star pilot's reputation, you scapegoat something less important."
"But that's not what they did."
"No. Which begs the question: If Shiro was the less important scapegoat, what are they hiding?"
Mom turned her monitors on, bringing up displays of code and documents.
"The Garrison's cybersecurity is strong, and harder to get through when I'm not on base," She said. "But they can't protect everything. See here, these emails about Kerberos? They're talking about the loss of the mission, but its only been an hour since last official contact. They weren't even expected to message again for another half hour. So why have they written them off?"
Pidge ran through the timeline in her head. The crew finished setting up the monitoring equipment, effectively completing the mission. They contacted mission control to let them know they were preparing to leave. This was last official contact, and ostensibly the last message received. Allegedly, the Garrison received no further logs after this point. An hour later, they were talking about the loss of the crew.
"They're lying!" Pidge realised. "If they knew that soon, then they must have had further contact!"
"Exactly."
"The Garrison claims they don't know what happened, but if they're throwing Shiro under the bus, they definitely do," Pidge said. "Live contact may not have been practical in the timeframe, but they got the information somehow, which only means one thing: Those logs do exist."
"Not just that," Mom said. "Standard logs would tell you about the system status and all sorts, but not crew observations. If the Garrison knows what happened, its because Matt sent them live logs, with all the extra data that entails."
Live contact was difficult due to the distance, the weird ship system, and the interference caused by proximity to the monitoring equipment. But of course her stupid, brilliant brother managed it anyway.
Pidge ignored the squeeze of her heart, turning back to the monitor. "The Garrison will guard that information like its gold dust. But if they didn't want the Holts to crack it, they shouldn't have lied to our faces, right?"
Mom had a strange look on her face, approaching a smile. "There you are," She whispered. Then louder, she said. "Absolutely right. Go get your laptop."
Pidge and her mother gained access to a lot of classified things over the next month. A bunch of unrelated documents, the ship blueprints (with her father's signature in the corner), test flight information (with her brother's comms report attached) - And most notably, the crew personnel files. They didn't like to snoop through Shiro's too much, the man practically a stranger, but they had no such reservations about their family's. Matt's even had his grades from his academy days - Apparently he'd struggled with spacewalking more than he'd let on.
But Pidge had underestimated the security on the mission logs - They weren't guarding them like it was gold dust, they were guarding them like they were the last gold dust on Earth.
"Brick locks," Her mother mused, drinking tea. "If you really, really don't want data getting out, you limit its access over networks. Of course, that makes it incredibly inconvenient to communicate about it..."
That didn't make the logs impossible to access remotely. They'd been sent remotely, so they had to be stored somewhere with network access. Even if they'd been removed since, the only way to delete them entirely was a full system reset, and there was no evidence of that.
It did, however, make it significantly harder. Pidge hadn't expected to crack the Garrison's secrets overnight, but each morning that passed grated on her.
'Brick locks' as her mother called them, were essentially a form of local-access-only security. They weren't the strictest form of them, but they locked data down to specific locations. In this case, the fact that they were operating from their flat, hundreds of miles from any Garrison base, was a detriment.
It would be easier if they were in a Garrison base - Any of them. They'd stayed at many over the years, but they weren't about to be allowed access without a related Garrison officer. They'd been called in for that meeting, but that wasn't likely to repeat itself, and even if it did, they hadn't been left unattended at any point. They'd have no opportunity to start hacking their firewalls. The Garrison didn't allow visits from the public, save for their heavily monitored tech showcases. They only really risked that sort of thing because it increased interest in the academy.
...The academy.
Public events were a no-go because they'd be watched so heavily, but cadets weren't, and couldn't be, monitored 24/7. The academy was a supplementary base, but it was nonetheless a base. Pidge could bypass the brick lock there, easy.
Of course, they weren't about to accept Katie Holt as a cadet.
That would be a problem, if she didn't have a master hacker as a mother.
Matt's personel file contained his original academy application. Pidge could forge some fake aptitude scores no problem, some fake medical reports, a fake reference - Using Matt's as a base, she could make some pretty realistic forgeries.
Her problem was going to be a fake identity. Pidge was good, but that still wasn't in her bag of tricks.
...Well, she was going to have to run this plan by her mother at some point anyway.
"You want to what?" She asked, stunned.
"It makes sense," Pidge said. "If you're in a Garrison building, you're already halfway through their security."
"I'm not disagreeing with the theory, but this is a bit of a leap from firewall breaking."
Mom's face was already creased. She didn't like the idea, something Pidge had to change stat, before she set her opinion in stone.
"The way I see it," Pidge said. "We can stay here hammering away at the same problem for who knows how long, and maybe get through before we die of old age. No guarantees. Or, I go to the academy, bypass the brick issue altogether, and get the logs before we know it."
"Little simplified, isn't it? It would still take time in the academy. More than out here, by some metrics, since you'd have to go to class, or you'd get kicked out and the whole thing would be pointless. And also, I wouldn't be able to help you."
"I'm not saying it'll be easy."
"I, however, am saying that its too risky. Even if we make a foolproof false identity, you still look like you, and getting caught could get you charged with treason."
"I can cut my hair."
"Not my point-"
"Look," Pidge said. "With the situation as we understand it, going to the academy will work. I'm not as fast as you are, but I can get through a firewall. Given a little time, a lot of firewalls. Even if I can't make progress during the day, I'd only need an hour or so a night to get stuff done in a few months."
Her mother was quiet for a moment. "I just don't like the idea of you going there, you know?"
And suddenly the situation weighed down on Pidge's shoulders.
"I know. I get it. But you don't have to like it. Matt... Matt was safe in the academy. He was only in danger when he went to space, and cadets don't go to space. I'll be okay."
"At least I won't be going to space. That's not a high bar for my daughter's safety."
"Its achievable, though."
"I suppose you're right." Her mother sighed. "Katie, you do know what you're signing up for, right? This isn't likely to be a fun time."
Pidge wasn't likely to have fun any time soon regardless, so that seemed like a moot point.
"I do," She said. "I mean, of course I'd rather stay here, but it'll be worth it if we can get justice."
"...Alright then."
In the weeks preceding Pidge's entry to the academy, there was a lot of work to be done.
Pidge took care of a lot of the application herself, but making a convincing fake idenity took her mother many, many hours. Probably more than were necessary, but she was being very thorough. Eventually, 'Pidge Gunderson' came to life, complete with matching birth certificate and national insurance number. Pidge was a boy, two years older than Katie, at 16 years old. He was from some random american town that Pidge should probably learn the name of. And he didn't have siblings.
...That was going around.
Now, the only thing missing from Pidge's academy application was a picture.
Pidge stood in front of the bathroom mirror, scissors clutched in her hand.
She wouldn't say she was overly attached to her hair. In fact, most of the time it was annoyingly in the way. But it still felt nice to tie it up and let it down. Felt hers.
Still. Needs must.
Pidge cut her hair, a bit choppily, getting half of it in the bin and half of it in the sink and on the floor. She didn't have much of a plan going in, so she looked in the mirror to see her progress.
She felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. Of course, she wasn't blind to the family resemblance, but with her hair short... She hadn't realised just how much she looked like her brother.
Pidge looked at the bathroom shelf. There, tucked safely away somewhere high, were Matt's glasses.
"I don't actually want to keep your loser glasses."
"I'm coming back, pigeon."
Liar, she thought.
Pidge picked them up, weighing the frames in her hands for a moment. Then she put them on.
The person in the mirror didn't look like Katie Holt. But she hadn't felt like her in a while, either.