She walked up to the side of the ship, not hurrying, not dragging her feet either. Just a steady pace.
Close enough now that she could see the faint outline of her own face reflected in the dull matte surface of the hull.
It wasn't the type of ship built to fight in open skies. No thick plating. No weapon ports. No war paint, and it definitely wasn't built to haul colonists or cargo across regulated space.
This wasn't a warship.
And it wasn't a carrier.
It was something in between—or maybe something else entirely.
A shape made to move through the dark places. Slip past scanners. Bypass checkpoints.
Its silhouette was narrow, curved where it needed to be, smooth in places most ships wouldn't bother. It didn't scream power, instead it whispered a possibility.
She reached out and let her palm rest flat on the nose of the ship, the metal cool beneath her glove.
