Episode 7. Waiting for Launch

I start walking again, Angie naturally falling into step beside me. Together, we inspect the exterior of the USS Mercator, taking in every detail of its design and structure.

The Mercator is instantly recognizable by its forward saucer. Its curved surface resembles a crescent moon, concave toward the rear and convex toward the front.

The command bridge sits at the center of the saucer. Through the dome, I can make out the silhouettes of officers already at their stations.

As we move along, Angie notes any maintenance work that may be needed on her pad. We take a ramp down to the lower level, where the angular structures built into the hull become even more striking.

They run along the flanks, central section, and rear of the ship, giving the Mercator a rugged, industrial look. Every angle feels deliberate, calculated, part of what makes this ship so distinctive.

Angie's meticulous. She spots details I might never have noticed. There's a reason she's my first officer.

Those modules are designed to detach from the ship and land on their own. The Mercator is primarily a transport and cargo vessel, and that modular design makes it incredibly versatile.

We finally reach the far end of the hangar, where a cargo lift is waiting to take us up to the warp nacelles.

Listening to them, I can hear the frustration in their voices. The Mercator, like most ships in NATO's fleet, has never left its hangar.

Its components were built in factories scattered across Alliance territory, then shipped to the bunkers for final assembly. Only a handful of ships have ever taken to the air, flown in remote areas during highly classified exercises.

I've been in command of the Mercator for seven years now, and all that time, I've been captain of a ship that never leaves the dock.

And honestly? The thought of one day receiving the order to launch scares me.

Because if that day ever comes, it'll mean the conflict has crossed a line we can never uncross.