The Abuja Stellar Ring, the Empire's frontline core energy and logistics hub.
Its structure resembled a massive, exquisitely crafted ring embedded at the stellar gravitational equilibrium point.
Facing the star was a side composed of three concentric circular ring surfaces, nested within each other and rotating slowly.
The ring surfaces utilized rotation to generate simulated gravity. Beneath transparent domes lay densely packed residential areas, energy processing plants, and precision equipment workshops.
The ring surfaces were connected by slender yet sturdy orbital elevators.
Like the spokes of a giant ring, they silently transported personnel and supplies between the various levels.
On the side facing away from the star and toward the deep cosmos was a vast cylindrical docking zone.
Here, lights blazed brightly, resembling a city that never slept.
Countless massive berths were arranged like a honeycomb, with extended retractable docks and magnetic adsorption cables guiding or securing starships of varying sizes.
The cylindrical surface was densely studded with protruding turrets.
The gun muzzles of close-in defense laser cannons gleamed with a cold, hard metallic sheen under the lights, perpetually vigilant against potential threats from the void.
At this moment, the airspace outside the docking zone was unusually busy.
Numerous transport ships arriving from rear star domains, like worker bees returning to the hive, formed loose queues in designated airspace.
They circled slowly, awaiting berth assignments from the port control tower.
Guidance laser beams crisscrossed between the vessels, marking safe approach paths for authorized ships.
A medium-sized Empire transport ship, the Gray Mole, was gliding along an emerald green guidance laser beam, sliding with exceptional smoothness into a medium-sized berth.
Magnetic locks emitted a low hum as they firmly gripped the hull, and the docking hatch connected seamlessly.
With a hiss, the airtight door opened, and the crew of the Gray Mole stepped onto the metal deck of the Abuja Ring.
Many unconsciously let out a long sigh, their faces showing the relief of a burden lifted.
A ground crew squad quickly approached.
The squad leader, Quinn Sanders, was a middle-aged man with ruddy cheeks and a booming voice.
He gave the lead captain a hearty slap on the arm, grinning broadly.
"Welcome to Abuja, Kilian!
Congratulations on another safe arrival!
Was the journey peaceful?"
The captain of the Gray Mole, Kilian Wood, was a somewhat gaunt man with a slightly unfocused gaze.
He removed his cap, wiping his brow which wasn't actually sweaty, his voice carrying a tremble of relief.
"By the grace of the Goddess of War, it was a close call but we made it, didn't run into any of those damned Federation vote-hounds."
He paused, lowering his voice, and added with lingering fear.
"You have no idea, rumors are flying all over the rear routes these days.
They say there are Federation ghost fleets attacking lone transport fleets.
On this trip, the crew hardly slept a wink.
The radar operator nearly strained his eyes staring, terrified that an unexpected blip would suddenly appear in the corner of the screen..."
Sanders let out a hearty laugh upon hearing this, vigorously patting Wood on the back.
The force made the slender captain sway slightly.
"Take it easy, old friend!
Those Federation rats who only dare to ambush will never amount to anything!
I heard our Fleet has already dispatched several big ones, spreading a wide net to hunt them down!
If you ask me, it won't be long before we drag those bugs out of the sewers one by one and blast them to dust under our giant cannons!"
Wood seemed to shudder from Sanders' slap, his shoulders hunching unnaturally.
Sanders noticed this detail, his thick eyebrows rising as he teased.
"Hey, what's wrong, Kilian?
Abuja's climate-controlled and way more comfortable than your rusty ship, so why are you shivering?
Could it be that floating in space for too long has made your bones brittle?
So fragile?"
An extremely unnatural stiffness flashed across Wood's face.
His neck seemed to instinctively want to turn in a certain direction, but his muscles tensed abruptly, forcibly stopping the motion.
He then forced out a somewhat hurried, even overly enthusiastic smile, trying to cover up his earlier lapse.
"Ahem… Sanders, you old bastard, your grip's still as strong as ever."
He rubbed his shoulder, his eyes darting briefly, lowering his voice with a tone of shared understanding between men.
"Been cooped up on the ship for over half a month, bored out of my mind!
Eager to… ahem, eager to find some fun, relax a bit.
This shiver is from excitement, you get it?"
Sanders was momentarily stunned, then suddenly understood.
A lewd grin spread across his face as he slapped Wood heavily again.
"You sly dog!
I get it!
I get it all too well!"
He leaned closer, winking and nudging, speaking in a volume only the two could hear.
"Listen to me, go to Ravik Ring, Sec City, 48 Wade Street!
Ask for Julia!
Mention old Quinn's name, and I guarantee you'll…
Well, get more than your money's worth!
You'll come back thanking me!"
Sanders elbowed Wood in the side.
Adding,
"Make sure to mention my name, next time I go, I might even get a discount!"
After saying this, he gave Wood a crude but unmistakable thumbs-up.
Wood wore a plastered-on smile, nodding repeatedly, but his eyes seemed distant, as if his thoughts were already elsewhere.
"Definitely, definitely!
Thanks, buddy!"
He said no more, hurriedly exchanged a few more pleasantries with Sanders.
Then, almost eagerly, he led his crew into the bustling crowd of the docking zone.
Quickly heading toward the Orbital Elevator leading to the inner ring residential zone.
Sanders watched Wood's slightly hurried back, shook his head, and laughed with a curse.
"Pathetic bastard!"
He turned to greet the next transport ship completing its docking.
The docking zone remained noisy and busy, Laser guide beams flashed silently, and massive ship shadows slowly shifted.
Point Defense Cannons cast silent, imposing shadows under the lights.
Abuja Stellar Ring, a remote intersection of secondary energy pipeline maintenance conduits.
Far from the noise of the main corridor, only the low hum of energy flow through the pipes and the monotonous blinking of indicator lights.
The air carried a faint scent of ozone and metal coolant.
Gray Mole captain Kilian Wood was surrounded by eight men wearing the same uniforms as his crew, his back against the cold alloy wall.
The obsequious smile and eagerness on his face had long vanished, replaced by uncontrollable trembling and pallor.
He raised his hands high, his voice distorted and shrill from sheer terror.
"G-gentlemen of the Federation... heroes... I've done everything you asked!
I sent the signal, entered the port, pointed out the route... I beg you, spare my worthless life!"
He pleaded incoherently, tears and snot streaming down his face.
"I have a three-hundred-year-old mother who depends on the money I send for life-extension agents, and a baby still nursing at home...
My family can't survive without me!
I'm just a small transport ship captain, trying to scrape by—I've never done anything evil...
For the sake of my starving family, please, just let me go like a passing fart!"