Kaminari knew how to do his job at only the most useless of times. Which was why, instead of the standard beeping alarm, the ship’s speakers began to ooze Teenage Dirtbag as loudly as they could when the ship shook with an explosion to the starboard side. Which was very loud, because their last paycheque had gone almost entirely towards replacing the speakers that their fearless captain had quite literally exploded in a fit of rage. It was frustrating, the Nebriian could barely figure out how to plug in a microwave some days, and yet he managed to hack through all of the firewalls on their security system to replace the alarm with pop-rock. Bakugou swore to himself that he was going to kill him the next time he saw his technician.
The young captain of the ship slid into his seat only seconds after contact with the explosive. Not because he had been standing around the bridge, waiting to be attacked, but because the moment someone fucked with his ship, he came running, and when he was angry enough, it would be more surprising if he didn’t break the sound barrier. He flipped the switch to turn off the autopilot and crushed his finger against the intercom button.
“Are you fucking serious Pika-shit? You can’t Google-search what a Pikachu is, but you know every single shitty 2000s song in existence? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bakugou shouted into the little microphone next to his control console, getting the important stuff out of the way before he began to bark orders. “Shitty-hair! Racoon-eyes! Pika-shit! Battle stations! Soy-sauce-face! Whatever broke fix it! Oh! And Pika-shit! Turn down this fucking music!”
The ship heaved and groaned and shuddered as Bakugou began to carry out evasive maneuvers. A low growl rose from his throat as he heard a tell-tale chugging noise, and he knew that there was engine damage. He cursed under his breath, but pulled jerkily against his controls anyways to protect what was left of his ship. What a shitty time to get attacked, did they know what he had managed to get his hands on? No. They couldn’t know, it had only been hours.
Kirishima was the first one to arrive.
“Reporting for duty captain!” Kirishima grinned widely, showing off his large, sharp teeth and performing a sloppy salute as he slid into his battle station to Bakugou’s right. For someone who was under attack, he didn’t appear to have a care in the world.
“About time! Power up the repulsers and prepare for combat!” Bakugou snapped.
“On it!” Kirishima laced his brown, stone-coated fingers together and cracked the knuckles beneath his rock-like skin before he began to tap and flip buttons and switches on the console to prepare the combat controls with the speed and precision that kept a Petera on a ship like Bakugou’s.
“Hurry it up!” Bakugou growled, and the intercom suddenly crackled to life allowing his mechanic’s voice to break through.
“Bakugou!” Sero’s voice came across a little fuzzy since Bakugou’s particular intercom speaker was a little bit beaten up, but he was still easy enough to make out if Bakugou put the effort into listening. “We have engine damage!” Fuck, just like he thought. “What do you want me to do?”
“What are you asking me for soy-sauce-face? You’re the mechanic! Not me!”
“I have half a roll of duct-tape and my spit! What am I supposed to do about this?” Sero asked.
“Figure it the fuck out! What am I fucking paying you for?” Bakugou spat and punched the button to hang up on his sputtering mechanic before he could formulate a response, leaving him to struggle with his work by himself. The captain pressed the intercom button again, and this time he pressed it so hard that he swore he heard the little red plastic button crack. Just great, another thing that needed to come out of his next pay-day, as if the engine wouldn’t be enough. “Pika-shit! Racoon eyes! Where the fuck are you? I need you here ten fucking minutes ago!”
“I’m here!” Mina sang as she stepped onto the bridge with a skip in her step.
“What the fuck took you so long?” Bakugou demanded.
“Sorry, I was taking a nap, and then I couldn’t find my shoes, and then I slipped on my own acid, you know how it goes,” Ashido laughed with a passive wave of her perfectly manicured pink hand that sent some acid splattering against the wall when she sat down in the control booth stationed to Bakugou’s far left.
“Fuck that shit! I don’t care if you have to slide all the way down here! Be faster!” Bakugou spat.
“My bad!” Ashido giggled, “we have an incoming transmission, it looks like they’re just your everyday pirates, nothing to be worried about, but they do have quite a pretty penny on their necks, do you want me to pick up?”
Bakugou growled while he considered his options, “let them through,” he decided, and Ashido flipped a switch.
“Am I speaking to the captain and crew of the Gen II Lambda ship Explodokills?”
The pirate’s voice crackled through the speakers, it was a rough, low, gravelly voice, a perfect stereotype filler, it could have been pulled directly out of a movie.
“If you know who you’re fucking with, you should be lightyears away by now, I’m going to give you to the count of three to surrender,” Bakugou said, his voice was surprisingly level, especially for Bakugou. Only Kirishima and Ashido could see just how furious he really was. He was gripping the ship’s controls so tightly that his knuckles were white, and he was impatiently tapping his foot against the floor, and the look on his face was even more murderous than it usually was.
“Feeling generous today? Huh Katsuki?” Ashido taunted.
“Blasty, we still don’t have Kaminari,” Kirishima pointed out in a voice quiet enough that the microphones wouldn’t pick him up.
“Fuck him,” Bakugou said.
“We know that you are currently down an engine, I highly doubt that you’re in a position to be making demands,” the pirate scoffed.
“One,” Bakugou growled.
“Very well, if you won’t be wasting any time, than neither will we, it has been brought to our attention that you recently came to be in possession of a certain item.”
“To be specific, a medallion, an integral part of a map located on the planet Creati, we will be taking it off your hands, whether you decide to cooperate or not.”
“All combat systems are ready to go!” Kirishima announced, and Bakugou’s wicked grin expanded.
“Fire!” Bakugou ordered.
Explodokills was a small, versatile Gen II Lambda ship, with incredible pilots, guns, engines, and speakers, and shitty just about everything else. Which meant that while it looked like absolute outdated shit, on the battlefield, it left every opponent reeling, and it played badass music while it did. Or, it was supposed to, but even the best ship with the best pilots would have a little bit of trouble when it was missing an engine. The confidant grins that Bakugou, Kirishima, and Ashido had been wearing only seconds before faded simultaneously.
“That doesn’t sound right,” Kirishima said when the entire ship wheezed as it moved.
A laugh broke through the speakers, “I told you, now, about the item I mentioned?”
“Fuck you! You think that I can’t kick your ass with half a ship?” Bakugou yanked at the controls and the ship whined again.
“So be it, open fire,” the pirate said, and the transmission ended.
“Hanta’s calling! I’m putting him on speaker!” Ashido reported as the ship clunked and quaked when Bakugou tried to move it too fast again to narrowly avoid the barrage of attacks suddenly upon them.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Sero shrieked through the speaker.
“That’s kind of the opposite of what I’m doing!” Bakugou spat back.
“Stop sending power to this engine! I’m trying to fix it!”
“This wouldn’t be a problem if you fixed it faster!”
“Katsuki! They’re charging another big blow! Like the one that took out our engine!” Ashido announced before their argument could progress any further.
“I knew I should have majored in dance, I just knew it,” Sero murmured under his breath, probably hoping that the microphone wouldn’t catch it.
“Shut your fucking mouth! Use your shitty Spidey powers and fix the engine already! Shitty-hair! Take control of the ship! I’m taking shooter!” With the press of a button, Kirishima and Bakugou’s consoles swapped places.
“I still don’t know who Spidey is!” Sero said.
“You’re worse than Pika-shit! Spiderman is a fucking icon and you are a dumbass!” It was an argument that Bakugou had with the two of them regularly, but still, they refused to Google-search the source of their nicknames. Probably just to spite him. Those motherfuckers. “Look! I need these engines to hold out for ten minutes! Can you get me that Soy-sauce-face? Just ten shitty minutes! Shitty-hair! Get me a clear shot! I can end this with one blow!”
“Okay, it’s not that I don’t trust you completely, but how exactly do you plan to do that?” Kirishima asked as he yanked hard on the throttle to pull the ship away from enemy fire.
“Watch it!” Sero shouted.
“Sorry dude,” Kirishima winced.
“Alright, at the rate you’re going, I can get you two at least five minutes before this engine explodes under the strain and I die a horrible death, do you think you can pull this off before that?” Sero asked.
“Only you would die right? So they have more live seven-to-eight minutes! That’s definitely enough time!” Ashido decided.
“That isn’t how it works! And I don’t want to die!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Bakugou ordered, and the bridge fell silent for a moment. Then the doors opened. The Nebriian technician entered with a wide grin and his hair a mess. The only evidence that he wasn’t still in bed was the obvious fact that he was standing upright, and the large blue-tinted sunglasses that he only wore when he was awake.
“Hey! Is it over yet? Do you guys like the new alarm system that I rigged up?” Kaminari asked, but was immediately silenced by a harsh glare from his captain.
“I like it!” Ashido piped up from her console.
“Sit your ass down, and turn this shit off, and Racoon-eyes, don’t take his fucking side,” Bakugou spoke in a low, threatening tone that made Kaminari sprint into his seat. “Shitty-hair, get me a clear shot, Soy-sauce-face, keep that engine running, I’ll take care of it.”
Jirou wasn’t even surprised when she caught word that a badly beaten up Gen II Lambda had literally crashed through the wall of the landing deck with a pack of space pirates in tow. She hadn’t received a call from the Explodokills crew all day, which meant that they were due for a visit. At least they would brighten up her boring office job a little bit.
It was only ten minutes after she heard that the crew of Explodokills had docked in HQ that the five of them came to her office.
“Honey! We're home!” Kaminari sang as he led the charge into her office. She had seen all five of them looking worse, she was honestly a little surprised that they were so clean considering what she had heard about the state of their ship. Excepting Sero, of course, but he was always a grease-stained mess.
Without invitation, the five of them made themselves at home in her office, which was dimly-lit, so Kaminari could take his sunglasses off while the other four squinted through the darkness. Three more of them offered friendly greetings to her while Bakugou barely twitched his hand in greeting before he slung himself over one of her armchairs, leaving his legs dangling lazily out in the air. The hotheaded human wasn’t cursing yet, which was a good sign, that meant that whoever they brought in was enough to balance out the damage to their ship and HQ. Kirishima took the other armchair, which showed signs of every previous visit the five had made with the multiple tears in the leather that were left by his hard, sharp Petrea skin. He grinned to show off his mouth full of fangs and gave her a thumbs up to show that the mission wasn’t a complete disaster. Sero went to the sink and mirror that Jirou used to reapply her makeup when she had big meetings. He began to pry his Tellari silk off of his clothes and scrub the filth off of his face. Ashido hung over the back of Kirishima’s chair with her arms wrapped around his shoulders in a way that would look romantically domestic to anyone who didn’t know that they were both competing for the title of “gayest alien in the universe”. Acidic Cidea slime oozed out of her pores into the leather of the chair and over Kirishima’s shoulders and back. Kaminari went straight up to her desk and leaned over, planting his elbows on the cold steel of the desk, a large Cheshire grin was painting his face.
It was suddenly going to be a very long day.