The bio-suit had not been refueled. Once the last of the fuel from the previous trip was depleted, there would be nothing to insulate him from this planet's sharp and inescapable cold. It did not even matter that the planet's atmosphere was poisonous, because he would freeze into a solid block before he could even take a full breath. The holographic display, the readings telling him that an icy, solitary death was less than two Earthian hours away, they made him so, so angry.
All that planning. All that training. All that running around on the astro belt under commanders whose names were not worth remembering. It was all a waste, because someone, some amoeba of grunt pilot, had failed the most basic of orders: always refuel after an excursion. They had doomed him to a humiliation of a first-and-last mission. Because he should have known better than to expect anything else but incompetence from the others, there was a tiny pang of self blame in his gut. He should have double checked. He should have prepared his own suit, his own supplies, and his own weapon. It took all of his of self-discipline to stop from smashing both of his fists into the ground, from thrashing around like a raging boar. He settled on kicking the empty landing pod he'd crawled out of moments ago. It made an unsatisfactory thump.
His options were non-existent. There was no way to contact his envoy. He'd been snuck away in a suit, ensignia scrubbed, with communication capabilities temporarily severed. It had been crucial that no one know when or where he'd gone for the next three rotations, as long as the fuel should have lasted. Communication would not be re-established with the higher ups for another six hours, when the likelihood of discovery lessened. He'd been warned of the risk level, but no one expected immediate failure.
This had been his long awaited chance to rise into the true high ranks. He'd been tasked with tracking the remnants of an insurgent group from a planetoid outside the League's jurisdiction. Officially, they had no authority to interfere, their own people's government should resolve the issue. But the League would do what it willed by its own authority. Not that the League was even a governing body, they were pseudo-militaristic association which dispensed their service for justice. All with the friendly and flashy veneer of heroism. They called no planet their home, and welcomed anyone from all planets. He'd heard that line as a kid back on the Mars colony, from the Captain himself during the War's End festival. He had known immediately that the League was the key to his future.
He wanted the League's acknowledgment and he got it. So before death could stop him, by all the Universe, he would find a way make the League succeed. If I'm going to fucking die on this shit planet, he thought, it won't be lying down. It pissed him off, but someone would come looking for his body. He'd leave behind as much info as he could.
There was little recorded information on this planet. They knew it as a lonely husk orbiting a long ago dead star. At most he was sure that the atmosphere was unfriendly to any known life forms without a bio-suit equivalent. The poison could possibly be metabolized by some known species, but this cold could only be survived by microbes. It stood to reason then, he thought, that the thing poking its head out from behind that plum colored boulder was not any sort of known life form. This thing, humanoid by what he could see, was not wearing anything which looked like it could protect from the planet's cold, yet it bobbed out and behind that rock unhindered.
It noticed him noticing him. It smiled, revealing rows of sharp teeth. On its head were two slate grey horns. Its hair, what he assumed was hair, was bright red and spiked. Its tail waved behind him, long and pointed. Bakugou began to record it. When he didn't respond, it began to almost hop, moving around excitedly, shouting something in a language he couldn't hope to place. The bio-suit returned nothing from its index.
The spiky thing then began making tentative steps towards him. It made exaggerated gestures and expressions, obviously trying to appear non-threatening. It stopped when Bakugou raised his arms in a ready stance.
He activated his mouthpiece.
"Who the fuck are you?"
The spiky thing paused, made a loud clicking sound with his mouth, then spoke.
"Hello! I'm Kirishima! I've been stranded here for several rotations. My ship is grounded and most of my controls wrecked. I could really use a ride. Where's your ship?"
Bakugou's eyes narrowed.
"Aren't you cold?"
Kirishima glanced around, as if completely unaware of their frozen surroundings until Bakugou brought it up.
"Don't worry about me!" He placed his hands on his hips, chest puffed. "I'm basically indestructible."
"I wasn't worried about you, dumbass." He really wasn't.
Kirishima nodded. "Well, anyway...can I have a ride?"
Bakugou stared at him a second, fully aware of his time limit. This is what the Universe sent him as a salvation.
"Listen up. If I don't get a tank of Zynth fuel or into an insulated oxygenated space, neither of us will be getting off this planet."
Kirishima was having trouble processing this, so Bakugou tried to be clearer.
"Hey, dumbass! I'm about to become a frozen corpse! Get me somewhere safe or I'm using my last breath to beat you to death."
That did it.
"Shit, okay. Follow me."
—
Kirishima's ship could hardly be called that, at least by Bakugou's standards. Clearly the crash landing had done extensive damage to the outer shell. The red coating had been scraped, most of the bubble lettering on the side could no longer be read. Bakugou could barely make out an "F" and a "T". The inside was mostly intact. It was roughly the size of a public bus back at the colonies, and was furnished like someone's dorm room. But it was warm there, and confirmed safe to breathe in. He had triple checked before removing his helmet.
Bakugou was grateful, though not about to show it. After all, Kirishima didn't even have the right type of fuel on board. So he failed to thank Kirishima for the warm drink, and even insulted his choice of decor for good measure. But he still drained the cup and didn't refuse a refill.
Kirishima seemed happy enough to play host. He prepared more for them to drink. He tried to start a conversation, attempting to set them both at ease.
"I was on my way to meet some friends before coming down. There's not anything about this planet on the mapping apps so I thought, you know, take a quick look. Pick up a cool rock."
Bakugou reclined deep into cushions of the oversized chair he'd taken over. "That's astoundingly stupid of you." It was stupid. Landing on an unknown planet on a whim was all kinds of stupid. Landing here even with support turned out to be stupid, too.
Kirishima sidestepped the comment. "I've travelled to hundreds of planets. It's good to have souvenirs to remember them by." A half smile hinted at more behind that statement.
Bakugou grunted. He'd done plenty of planetary travel at this point, but couldn't relate. That sort of sentimentality was annoying anyway.
"You running away from something?"
There was a fraction of a second where Kirishima hesitated. He tried to cover it up by grabbing the pot on the hot plate. "Well, not really." He filled Bakugou's cup, eyes concentrated on his pouring. "My people are travelers by nature. Some of us do our own thing. Some of us move in small colonies." He filled and sipped from his own cup before sitting on a stool across from Bakugou. "Exploring unknown planets, fighting whatever comes your way. Being a lone ranger floating out in the universe...it's pretty cool, right?" He threw him a subdued smile.
Bakugou couldn't answer. He'd been aiming for a similar life. Joining the League was meant to give him the training and license to be a lone ranger of sorts. He'd wanted to stand above the Captain, force everyone to acknowledge his talent and respect him. He had zero intention of inheriting the army of League subordinates. What mattered was gaining the power and freedom to be on his own. And here Kirishima had circumvented all the work he'd put in because that's just how people like him lived. Travel clearances and dangers unknown didn't stop him. Who knew how he'd even enter Leagues' (unofficial) sphere without detection.
"It's alright."
Kirishima gave a quiet laugh. It was difficult to see him as a threat, even with the teeth.
Bakugou sighed.
"What is it?" Kirishima looked genuinely concerned.
"I'm probably making a mistake, but I've decided you're telling the truth." At least for the most part, he thought.
Kirishima hummed in response. "So you've figured out what an awesome guy I am."
He received a dirty look. The tiny ship too quickly filled with a nervous silence.
Kirishima pushed again. "So...will you tell me your name?"
Bakugou only stared at him from behind his cup.
"A name?"
"It's Kujo."
"Alright, Kujo. So how did you end up here?"
What he wanted to say was, "None of your fucking business." He might have let that slip had he not learned to curve that explosive temperament of his by now. He went with a simple story. "I was supposed to be looking for xanyr ore deposits. Dumbass crew must have fucked up more than my landing because they disappeared."
"They just floated off? You're pretty lucky I was around. I mean, not like you'll find many people around here." Bakugou could only narrow his eyes at him.
"We've got supplies for a good few more rotations. But we should be trying to find a way out of here. You think your crew will come looking for you?"
"No idea. Communication was totally cut when the suit began to malfunction. I just need some time to fix it."
Kirishima perked up at that bit of information. "Yeah? So you might be able to call someone? That'll be great!"
—
He'd removed the suit and had it rigged on the drying hanger over the green patch, a special mat used to salvage water. It was super low tech and from a few generations ago. Everyone used the much more efficient dehydration units now. The ship was so old he wondered how it even managed to even crash and not disintegrate on entry.
There was nothing actually wrong with the suit's functions, so he did basic cleaning and maintenance for the sake of his lie. He positioned himself and the suit so Kirishima could not see him work directly. Not that Kirishima tried. Instead he had reclaimed his chair, eating from what looked like a shiny MRE pack full of something purple.
He passively watched as Bakugou fiddled with the helmet. "I'm pretty sure you're a Human. Earthian?"
Bakugou grunted. He was Martian, but having been in the League a few years now, it didn't matter. "Yeah." He'd learned to let people chatter on if it kept them from prying too deep.
Kirishima took another spoon full. "I find your kind everywhere. You all must like exploring as much as my kind do."
Bakugou remembered the clicking sound Kirishima had made earlier. "Your kind, what do they use to communicate with other species?"
He hummed, seemingly happy to be asked. "It's not any special tech. It's like, once one of us learns a language, it's passed on to the next generation. I just need to remember it. With so many of you running around, of course I've got the Human Standard already in there." He tapped his forehead.
"All those languages in there must have eaten up all your good sense."
He received a rather toothy grin in response. "All that rudeness must've eaten yours. Stop trying to fight the guy who saved you, Kujo."
They fell back into a momentary silence. Bakugou could only pretend to fix the suit for so long. It was time for a break. Kirishima got up to hand him a tube of something pink.
"It came from a Human, so it's probably okay for you."
Bakugou took it, mostly sure he meant a Human supplied it and not that it was produced from a Human.
The next couple of hours were filled with more of Kirishima's chatter. He told Bakugou about the many places he'd been. Planets, countries, provinces, cities, small towns. He remembered all of them, even some he hadn't physically visited himself. Those memories had been stored in his DNA by his parents and their parents and so on. Inscribed memories weren't like normal memories, he explained, they were a sort of instinctual familiarity. It was tied to his language recall as well "other things," which Bakugou didn't really follow.
Bakugou listened without comment. He was a little surprised that he found Kirishima only a minor annoyance.
Close to his expected contact time, Bakugou miraculously "fixed" the helmet. He put it on just as a voice came through.
"Come in." It was a low, calm voice only Bakugou could hear.
"I'm a stranded mining agent. My crew experienced trouble during my survey. I'm low on Zynth fuel and in need of resupply." He paused. "...I've also got a stranded tourist with a grounded ship. Most functions are disabled. I'm sending coordinates now."
There were bits of code in there. Someone is listening. Just a nobody who needs rescue.
Kirishima nudged him."I need a replacement drive for a Zephyr 280 Wide. Red if they have it."
Bakugou pushed him away with one hand.
"Okay, okay. Just the ride then."
"Shut the fuck up. Let me hear."
The voice came back on. "We can send a resupply tomorrow at the same time. Entry is impossible." They were being careful. That was expected now that they knew some unknown person was there.
Even so, he felt some of the tension loosen just a bit. They had an emergency resupply ready.
"Understood."
Communicated went down again. He removed the helmet, placing it back on the end table he'd borrowed.
Kirishima looked at him expectantly.
"So? Who'd you contact? Why didn't you ask for a lift?"
"They were just a small delivery ship passing by. They can't take on anyone, but they're sending some supplies."
Kirishima groaned. "You could've still asked them to send someone."
Bakugou scoffed. "I didn't have to ask. They offered to send help." A paid ship was planned to arrive in three rotations. A whole rescue had already been planned for Kujo. It wouldn't be any harder to bring Kirishima along, too.
"You should've said that sooner!" Kirishima turned away and threw his arms up in the air. "Can't wait to eat some actual food."
Bakugou removed his helmet. He had little choice but to rest for now. Tomorrow the mission would go on.
