Hornet's Nest

Countdown to No Return

Kiyin pressed the button with a scoff, and the ramp began to pull up. That would make a decent sphere out of the ship again. It would then be physically ready for liftoff.  

Kyle came around to meet them almost immediately. Everyone had their faults, and Kyle seemed to champion that reality, but if there was any benefit to him, it was the fact that he was the only living being with a good attitude on the ship.

“Oh, a client!”

 “Yes, take him to the special guest room, Kyle,” Daigo told him casually. “I’ll put the crate away.”

Kiyin walked past them in the meantime, as they talked, wholly ignoring them.

“The crate stays with me,” John said in a threatening manner.

Daigo stopped his casual walk. “Uhh, okay, here. Kyle will take you to your room while we see about taking off.”

“You have a kid in your crew?” John asked.

“Hey, I’m not just a kid!” Kyle proclaimed, his green eyes squinting as he nodded once for effect, his helmet of blond hair undulating in response.

Daigo gestured towards him with a smirk. “He's not just a kid.”

“What are you besides a kid?”

“I’m a hornet!” Kyle happily announced,

John paused, mentally disarmed.

Kyle walked off proudly, to help John to his room. “Now come on, follow me,”

Only then did John’s mind rally his thoughts. “Oh, the name of the ship.” Awkwardly, he nodded and grabbed hold of his package so that he could follow his young guide. “Right, okay.”

That was their motto, supposedly, but only Daigo and Kyle really used it.

It made sense. The ship was called hornet’s nest, and inside it, were hornets. Mean little buggers that while small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, can ruin the day of anyone big and significant. Additionally, hornets won’t die just because they stung someone, which was key.

In short, don’t stir the hornet’s nest, or you will get stung. It seemed like a really cool concept when Daigo thought of it, but the overflow of small time smuggling runs was making it hard to stick.

Daigo made his way through the halls of the ship. Not only were they circular in shape, around a flat ground, but they also navigated the inside of the ship by spiraling instead of making straight lines. There was a design to the interior that made it very unique, not to say troublesome, and it made perfect sense considering who built it.

His feet banged against the metallic ground of his ship with a familiarity he could never explain. Only feel. He stepped around a specific dent he remembered from six years prior, created by a dropped crate. He passed by a stain created by some acid Hannes had dropped several months ago, and rolled his eyes at the clumsiness.

Daigo didn’t know what his prosthetics actually did when he rolled his eyes. It was more emotion to him by that point that a physical action.

Once he arrived at his room, Daigo was welcomed by the caress of nostalgia. Messy bed, as always, with the desk nearby and a rug below it to catch whatever he spilled on it while snacking or drinking. It was heavily stained, albeit cleaned enough not to smell.

A portrait of a cool hornet design hanged over his bed. It had been the payment from a client that did not have money, on one of Daigo’s first jobs. He felt very old for having such a traditional thing since paintings were a thing of museums, and ancient museums at that.

Daigo threw his recently acquired resource cards onto the bed. Beside it rested the very first pulse capacitor to have needed replacing, one of the very few parts that were completely original to the ship. It was about as tall as his leg which was why Daigo repurposed it as a cabinet. On top of it stood a holographic tablet constantly showing three seconds of his first moment as the captain of his own ship. The beautiful sphere was in the background.

Kiyin was there too since she had been a part of it all. Integral even. At the time, she yet sported long black hair. Her arms were crossed in front of her, and her tentacles were hidden inside the ceremonial cloak that she had to wear for the occasion.  She was looking down, distraught yet enduring, with her hair hiding most of her face. Daigo, on the other hand, had the widest grin and was vigorously thumbing back at the ship while hugging around Kiyin’s shoulders with his other arm.

That image had been recorded a few minutes before the ship was named.

Daigo thought back to how, at the time, he could not understand why Kiyin had decided to abide by tradition. Despite her father’s wishes for her to disregard it. It felt wrong every time he looked at the image. The contrast of his happiness with her sadness. Still, that was the moment he had fulfilled a life-long dream. The moment by which all his aspirations were defined by. His life, even.

That was true in more ways than he knew at the time, he was coming to realize. He sat down and took a yearning breath.

Time was really moving him away from that moment. More and more he would sigh unattainably, instead of memorably, at the youthful man in that snapshot. With dark chocolate skin, devoid of scars, Daigo looked thin and athletic instead of portly and muscular. His afro was a real afro back then, not a head of curly hair with delusions of grandeur. Additionally, he had his real eyes back then. They were hazel and lively and full of dreams come true.

At least he had his dark leather jacket, which he still wore the same way, over white shirts and dark cargo pants.

“Scheduled to leave in twenty,” Kiyin broadcasted, so it would be heard in every room and corridor. “Will the captain of the ship be gracing the cockpit with his presence?”

Kiyin didn’t wait for him to respond to her sarcasm, switching off the communication. Daigo smiled and took off his jacket so he could look presentable to the shuttle captain. It was okay to look roguish when going to pubs and making sketchy deals under the ill-lit stench of alcohol, but not when dealing with officers.

Daigo left the resource cards he had won on his games on the bed and locked the door on his way out. However, just as he turned, he met face-first with Hannes.

“Hey, D.”

“Whoah,” Daigo flinched with surprise, pulling away from the man’s moustache-heavy frown lest they kiss. “Hey, Hannes. What’s up?”

Hannes turned his head aside towards the special guest room, showing Daigo the heavy scar on the left of his face. It had been the result of some past event he never mentioned. Daigo again remarked on how lucky everyone was that he hardly ever smiled.

“Who’s the guy?” Hannes asked.

“New client. No-questions-asked cargo.”

Hannes looked back at Daigo with sharp eyes, showing the ever-present weary gray tint. It always gave the impression that they had been used too much and were starting to wither, even if the man had perfect eyesight.

“We checkin’ it?”

Daigo smiled. “He’s in the special room, isn’t he?”

Hannes only nodded, his gaze piercing and determined.

“Go strap up for launch,” Daigo told him.

“I heard ‘er, yeah.” Hannes turned to look Daigo up and down, and then sniffed. “Hey, did ya get my caramel schnapps?”

Man, he’s really weird sometimes, Daigo thought. “Sorry. This came up before I could get to it. Next time, for sure.”

Hannes grumbled a curse at the new client while scratching his balding hair, trying to figure out what to do about life, it looked like.

He abruptly marched away.

Daigo looked to the side and saw an intercom. He had recently moved it outside, and because of it, if anyone in the crew wanted to bother him, they had to come and physically bang on his door. He had to do it because he was getting bothered too often when he was just a push of a button away. Now, they only bothered him when there was an emergency.

Of course, there was also Kiyin’s early propensity for an incessant and purposefully unnecessary wake-up calls. A habit she thankfully lost.

On his way to the cockpit, Daigo passed by the mess hall. They had rammed it half full of tables and cooking appliances. He found the remaining members of his crew there.

“Hey,” Daigo called out, “didn’t you hear Kiyin? We’re launching.”

Spinz looked up curiously from the book he was reading, pausing a hand that was about to take a spoon of soup to his mouth.

Daigo could see the stains of hard mechanical labor all over the mini apron that was roughly a year old. He used the apron for cleanliness reasons, but for Daigo, it was more important that its vivid green helped the Rodentis mechanic stand out against the floors and walls of the Hornet’s Nest. The ship’s interior matched his white and gray fur uncannily well.

“Left fifteen minutes,” the scrawny Rodentis pointed out with a curious look, making use of his monotonic tone. “time plenty.”

He slurped on the spoon.

“And thirty-two seconds,” Sará added in her boring voice, eyes locked on a tablet that sat where her food should. Or at least that was what her head indicated since her eyes were hidden behind her hair.

They both looked at her.

“Are you counting?” Daigo asked.

“Uh, no…” she said to the side, somehow, without moving her head.

Daigo stared at her for a few moments. “How many seconds?”

“Twenty-eight,” she said.

“So you are counting,” Daigo stated.

“Maybe,” Sará said with a shrug.

She was again wearing some kind of robe. She professed to choose clothing that transitioned well to bed, and those weren’t often easy buys, so she made them herself. Sará was a kind of a seamstress as a hobby.

They were one-piece outfits that were as easy to dress in as possible, Daigo knew. The girl was as lazy as they come.

“Well, I don’t need to tell you how dangerous lift-offs can be,” Daigo pointed out.

“Worry needless, meal gone fast soon,” Spinz announced with an energetic nod. Then, his ears propped up with interest. “And about gravity disruptors?”

“Just got a gig that should finally cover it,” Daigo announced, gladly.

Spinz’s ears fell dejectedly, and then one of them pointed at Daigo accusingly. “Said same last time. Five times.”

“Well we keep damaging the ship, and needing to repair the new damages,” Daigo commented.

“No damage I cause. Fix I do lots,” Spinz said absentmindedly, his eyes turning back to his book.

“It’s fine,” Sará put in. “I like these jobs. I appreciate the high likelihood of dying…”

“Stop that,” Daigo called, pointing at her, “nobody’s dying.” 

“Sorry to hear th--”

Daigo shook his finger, “ah! You stop. You promised, remember? For Kyle.”

Sará exhaled helplessly and slumped in her chair.

“You think I don’t remember? The moment I don’t remember is the moment I will blissfully leave this terribly dark and empty universe.” Sará spoke in a foreboding tone of voice, but without a hint of sadness or regret. It was hard to take her at her word, but as far as Daigo had come to understand, it was the straightforward truth.

Sará lived for her brother, and that was it.

“More empty you make it, then,” Spinz said, nudging her with an ear, all while continuing to eat his vegetable soup, and reading. “Universe kept full with minds of ours. And yours fills much.” He nodded, munching food. “Clefver.”

Daigo couldn’t see her smile, but he chose to believe that she did.

“Watch the time, you two,” Daigo reminded them before turning back and leaving.

In its current state, with there being an up and a down, a forward and back, the cockpit could be found at the front of the ship’s belly, but it would never be recognized as one. The room was smaller than the mess hall. After all, it had been built with only two people in mind, for reasons that were more cultural than practical. Daigo had installed a mini fridge in it and added plumbing so that they would have access to water in there, but it was otherwise as originally designed and constructed.

All and all, even if he had to crouch to get inside, Daigo liked how tight and small it was. Made it easier to reach for anything he needed.

“Took you long enough,” Kiyin greeted.

“Decided to check in on Sará and Spinz to make sure they heard you.”

“How thoughtful,” Kiyin remarked with a sarcastic tone. However, the lack of additional comment betrayed that she actually meant it.

Daigo sat down with a knowing smirk.

His seat produced a familiar creak as he turned it into place, looking over the all too familiar panel of controls. It was already switched on, that much obvious by the assortment of gears and joysticks and switches which were being projected into mid-air and ready to be interacted with. Since it was such an old model, the joysticks were being generated on top of real ones that were built into the panels.

The window, which was actually a one-way mirror kind of plating, showed the face of the shuttle that would carry them. A behemoth of a thing, taller than most all buildings he had ever seen.

A white wall was what it was, boring and old.

“Call coming in,” Kiyin reported.

“Put it through.”

Taking an easy breath, he rested his back against his chair. “On with the adventure.”