Commute

If there were wayward children who at least showed up or expressed a hint of survival, then there were those who were great at disappearing acts.

And no amount of loving and even threatening messages would work.

So, what do you do when messages can no longer get you anywhere?

You pay a visit.

There were no messages, reports, or respectful updates—just silence—the kind of silence that made bureaucrats twitch and elder siblings fume.

And that was how one overworked Chief of Staff was on his way to Planet Nova on a luxury commuter craft after several days of radio fucking silence.

Yes, a commuter craft.

It should've been a smooth and short trip.

Should've.

But ever since that Daycare facility opened and overhauled the schedules of many nobles, private spacecraft travel has become a logistical nightmare.