[Jackie lit up, forgetting the tension for a moment]“Well then, dear gremlins…
Jackie’s back with you.While Dick restores his sense of importance,
I’ll tell you what miracle our two…
unkillable idiots witnessed.When the hangar gates opened,
what stood before them was not so much a ship
as something grown
somewhere between physics and a dream.And then polished…
until engineers would cry from pride
and feel, just for a moment,
that they had created something truly special.The hull looked smooth, seamless at first glance.
So perfectly even it felt cast,
as if it were a single fragment of metal
of unknown origin.Its surface resembled liquid silver,
slightly matte,
glowing with a soft inner sheen
under the hangar lights.No battle scars.
No dents.Only thin technological lines,
clean, precise,
as if the hull had folded together
from enormous petals
of some metallic flower.Every seam was part of a composition.
Every panel like a scale
of a perfect cosmic creature,
built to cut through space
without ever feeling resistance.The nose was elongated, predatory,
too perfect
to belong to anything mass-produced.There was no hint of serial design in it.
It wasn’t made for sale.
It was made for one pilot.
For one purpose,
one that no one but its creator
could possibly guess.This was a form designed
not to cut through air—
but through space itself.Along the sides, fin-like wings,
wide, thin,
like something from the deep sea,
where light is not a privilege, but a memory.But here…
this was not organic.This was engineering poetry.
The cockpit sat above center,
a dual dark dome that looked like glass,
but was in fact a layered nanopolymer
that reacted to light, threats, and intent.Its transparency changed on its own.
Under bright light, it darkened,
shielding against radiation and optical sensors.In darkness, it cleared,
allowing the pilot to see space
as if nothing existed between them and the void.From the outside, nothing could be seen.
No seats.
No instruments.The system decided for itself
who was allowed to look inside.The maneuvering engines were integrated so cleanly
they seemed not to exist at all.No exhaust.
No nozzles.
No visible compartments.This is what ships look like
when they are no longer bound by the laws of physics…
but rewrite them.On its hull—
a name.Written in a single, elegant stroke:
AIRI.
An old Japanese name that can be read as
‘Jasmine of Love’ or ‘Love of Truth.’For a ship, it sounded almost ironic.
Because what stood before them
was a one-of-a-kind
S+ class space fighter,
a machine that did not exist
in any official registry.But in those five letters
there was something more than a name.
Too much.As if the name did not define the ship—
but the ship defined the name.”
[Jackie let out a quiet breath]“And now imagine Blindy’s face…
fresh out of a blackout… and seeing that…”