Orbit of the Sun. Near Mercury.

  Captain Manuel's space tug, like a heavy ox, slowly pulls behind it a massive station — a former ergon production plant. Its massive hulls are scorched, with the plating cracked in places from temperature fluctuations, leaving traces of many years of use. But inside, despite the neglect, the working schematics are still preserved. The captain knows that once this station is converted, it will become a powerful combat platform.

  "We're still too close to the Sun," Manuel says, pressing into the back of the captain's chair, as if feeling the weight of the entire operation. "The station's weight is at its limit. We’re moving slowly, but it’s worth it."

  He turns around, his eyes sharp like a predator, focused on every detail of the operation. Yet, there’s confidence in his voice — no wonder he's the captain.

  "We're approaching the turn point," Pietro reports, skillfully managing the towing systems, adjusting the maneuvers with precision. Everything is going according to plan.

  "Cut the thrust."

  The thrust decreases, and the ship begins to slow down, and with it — the giant station, slowly leveling out in space. The surrounding area fills with a ringing silence, only interrupted by the pulsation of the engines.

  "Maneuver completed." Pietro looks at the indicators, his voice calm, but tense. "We're holding the cargo. Low thrust."

  "Push to full power," Manuel gestures, as if giving an order.

  Maria quickly taps the touch panel, her fingers sliding across the screen, merging with the command line. At that moment, the roar of the engines fills the compartment, making the walls vibrate. The ship accelerates, its heavy gait becoming more and more palpable. But it hasn’t been ten seconds before a terrifying crack rings through the tug's hull, as if something massive scraped its claws along the external plating.

  "What was that?" Pietro exhales, his eyes widen, instantly assessing the situation.

  Manuel squints, listening to the crackling. He feels every vibration in the old ship, as if sensing the weight of everything happening.

  "Looks like the shock absorber couldn't take it," he frowns, clenching his teeth. "We need to replace it. Urgently."

  Maria is already out of her seat, her face reflecting only calm and focus. She moves deliberately, her actions precise and confident, her eyes set on the task.

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  "I'll go," she says in a steady voice, no tension, as always when she takes on a risk. "I’ll be quick."

  "Be careful," Manuel gives the last instruction, watching her move. He can't help but worry about her, despite his confidence.

  "A solar flare is expected. We might be caught in its impact. I recommend staying aboard the ship for your safety," the ship’s AI, Emma, announces in a cold, emotionless voice, with a slight hint of warning.

  There’s a pause. Maria steps toward the airlock, her steps confident, but she can’t ignore Emma’s words. The Sun is not just a source of light; it’s a mighty force capable of wiping everything in its path. But her goal is clear. She’s on this ship to accomplish her task.

  The tension vibrates through the air. Manuel silently watches her leave, knowing that this operation is not just another maneuver, but a chance for their crew to survive and win in this endless cosmic struggle.

  "The ship must execute the maneuver immediately," Manuel declares, his voice tense, eyes focused on the screens. "Otherwise, the tug won't have enough power to bring the station into Mercury's orbit, and it will crash onto the planet's surface. How much time do we have until the flare?"

  "I can’t give an exact forecast. This process is random. It could be several more hours," the cold voice of Emma, the ship’s AI, responds, her tone unemotional, but a hidden sense of concern lingers.

  Manuel presses into the seat, his gaze never leaving the monitors. The situation is critical, but he doesn’t lose his calm.

  "I’ll do it fast," Maria smiles, her confidence unmistakable. She brings her hand to her collarbone, and at that moment, a semi-transparent material spreads across her body, forming a hermetic spacesuit in mere seconds. This is a routine process for her, no excess, only precise movements.

  She enters the airlock, the soft sound of the door closing, and is immediately in the vacuum of space. The cold emptiness. The station hangs before her like a monumental beast, its scorched edges glowing. Her magnetic gloves already pull her toward the surface. Like a mountaineer, clinging to the magnets, she covers the distance, never losing focus.

  "Captain, almost done," Maria’s voice comes through the comms, clear despite the noise and crackling of radio waves. "The shock absorber was dead. I’ve removed it."

  "Good. Take the spare — it's in the eighth external compartment. It's right next to you," Manuel responds, keeping a sharp eye on the data, never losing focus. His voice carries relief.

  "Got it," Maria pauses briefly, then continues, "And please, be a good boy."

  "And a handsome one, too." Her smile radiates warmth, even in space. Her voice is full of confidence and playful charm. "I’m installing the new one now. Pietro, get the cocktail ready — you know which one."

  "I’ll make it like for a princess," Pietro replies with a grin, his voice light and playful, despite the seriousness of the situation.

  Manuel watches the readings, every indicator on the screen feels as important as every heartbeat. Everything is going according to plan. But suddenly — an alarm.

  "Solar flare!" The loud shriek of the automation interrupts the conversation.

  Manuel jumps to his feet, his eyes widening in horror as he sees the screens flashing. Time is running out.

  "Get back!" He yells, rushing toward the airlock, his fingers quickly inputting the code. "Maria!"

  Silence.

  He immediately glances back at the indicators. The station starts to sway, and the ship jolts from the shockwave. Inside, all systems start signaling disruptions. Manuel feels panic creeping into his soul, but he doesn’t allow himself to break.

  "Maria!" He shouts her name into the mic, but there is no response.

  Silence.

  "I’m going after her." Always calm, Pietro, now activating his spacesuit on the move, rushes to the airlock, not wasting a second. "Move faster."

  "Looks like she’s disconnected..." Manuel frantically presses the comms buttons, trying to restore contact, but the screen before him blurs more and more. His eyes are filled with frantic worry, and there’s no time to get things back to normal.

  Pietro doesn’t wait. He blasts off into the void of space, following Maria’s coordinates. Everything depends on whether he can make it in time to save her.