Nico Vega

Nico woke up to a velvet ceiling and the soft hum of classical music. “Uh… this isn’t the cargo bay.” A drone hovered above him. “Welcome to the Celestial Rose, Mr. Vega. You are now trespassing on a luxury diplomatic cruiser.” “Cool cool cool,” he muttered, checking his pocket. Still had the muffin he stole. Not ideal. Alarms blared. “Security approaching,” chirped the drone. Nico stood, dusted off crumbs. “Guess I better run before someone asks for a room key.”