A shape catches the light against the curvature of the Earth.

Aerodynamic wings folded upon the forty meter long fuselage, a sleek shape conformed and crafted alongside a universe’s natural laws for efficient atmospheric flight. Reinforced borosilicate windows, ovoid in shape, run alongside the lateral slice of the spacecraft. A set of portholes managing a sealed gateway into the cabin within, a necessity for its passenger payload.

Once a single dot against the lifeless black of space the cylindrical shape of an approaching orbital structure begins to grow into visual range, human eyes augmented by non-intrusive head mounted displays spotting the thing.

The radio broadcast is echoed through the passenger cabin, a reassurance of a maintained flight schedule and security of travel. Across null medium the received audio is slightly corrupted from static, the calm voice of the distant station’s Flight Controller audible through interference. “United Three Thirty Nine Orbital we have you on a visual tight beam. Your vector is locked in, relative velocity thirteen meters per second. Your approach is green, how copy?”

The Pilot’s voice replies with absolute certainty, within her mind thousands upon thousands of hours of experience echoes into an automated response. “Seven Control good copy.”

“United Three Thirty Nine orbital, we are designating you to Airlock Four. Your ETA is twenty five minutes, transmitting automated approach vector, how copy?”

It takes a few moments for the telemetry to arrive, the Pilot taking a quick glance at the inputted flight plan. “Flight control this is United Three Thirty Nine Orbital confirming arrival at Airlock Four, ETA twenty five minutes over.”

“Confirmed.” The Flight Controller finishes.

Switching the link, the Pilot speaks towards the entire passenger compartment of the spaceplane. Announcement echoing through the zero-gravity environment of the interior, heads turn towards the omni-directional voice. “Hello passengers, this is your Captain speaking. We are ten minutes out from Commerce Station Four so please secure yourselves and all your free-floating belongings as we’ll be undergoing a mild deceleration in the final few minutes of our flight. Thank you very much for your cooperation and for flying United.”

Reaction control thrusters carefully burst forth jets of monopropellant, a computer assisted trajectory change shifting the craft slowly towards its intended target.

Within the cabin the shift of tone is palpable; an excitement rising from the boredom of surface to orbital flight. Chatter, once deafened by the previous four hours of pure boredom, returns in force as the miniscule pull of gravity arrives from a shift in the vessel’s velocity.

An unstrapped child, four years in age, begins to float down the walkway as acceleration shifts. Handhold missed the parent behind her attempts to catch the body with grave inexperience, the mind still unadapted to the alien world of three dimensional movement.

“A-Amber!” The father yelps through the chatter of his fellow passengers as he regains a grip on one of the cabin’s handholds. “Co…”

A hand shoots out from the rows of seats, the uniformed figure reacting to the uncontrolled spin with an immense mastery of zero gravity as he quickly grabs the child’s center of gravity.

Stopped in place the young child laughs as the hand loosens its grip, a mildly dangerous predicament safely adjusted to a fun activity.

The father guides himself down the aisles of seats, each hand carefully placed upon handholds and sleek padded surfaces as he retrieves his child. A voice filled with nervousness, speaking carefully to the uniformed soldier. “T-thank you.”

The reply comes fast. “No problem sir.”

Short brown hair and blue eyes are placed upon the thin face, a calming smile upon the form of a young United Nations Solar System Defense Force Marine. A lanky form, mildly atrophic from time spent in the confines of zero gravity, is hidden behind a uniform with stuffed pockets of miscellaneous tools and material.

On his deep blue fatigues’ upper left arm the embroidered insignia of a bright red high explosive warning. Lines of debris represent lethal shrapnel, a ground zero marked with a single circle all surrounded by a triangle of caution.

The perimeter text announces the intention of warfare, a double edged sword of creation and destruction in low orbital warfare: S.S.D.F. COMBAT ENGINEER.

Across the cabin the voice of the Pilot speaks forth, an announcement hidden within a layer of calmness and excitement. “Passengers, we have a small treat for you on this flight. If you are currently sitting in a window seat to our port side, we are now passing by the United Nation System Defense Force’s orbital combat cruiser Moscow at a relative velocity of one point four meters per second. You can’t miss her.”

A fifty meter long cylindrical shape bristled with weapon hardpoints, maneuvering thrusters, and deployed radiators the white, heat deflecting paint of the old warship was marked against the earth below her.

Currently passing over north asia the late winter months were slowly burning away to an early spring; the vessel’s name sake city nestled within the heart of eastern europe coated in the embrace of a February snow storm.

The Combat Engineer removes the smart phone from within his pocket, aiming the pair of camera lenses upon the distant shape. A photo is taken, saved to file as passengers begin to crowd around the handful of window seats.

One of the first ever orbital combat vessels commissioned in international service, the Washington Class cruiser seemed to defy its age. Retrofitted twice and battle scarred against terrorists, pirates, and even the rare Java Treaty skirmish, its reputation held a heart of titanium alloy wrapped within the marines pressed aboard its hold.

A sigh as the Combat Engineer removes the stack of physical paper orders held within his uniform pocket, unfolding the sheets as he rereads the deployment orders. Authorization barcoded, the printed information itself upon the front page seemed mostly innocuous. A thought process begun in consideration of possible influences, memories of orbital warfare stopped as the next announcement echoes through the communication system.

“All passengers, please fasten your seatbelts. Our estimated time of arrival is ten minutes to Station Four.”

On approach, the massive five hundred meter long space station was a sight to behold. An elongated cylinder pockmarked with observation windows, the overall shape pinched at each end with docking ports. A rotating artificial gravity ring was attached to the central body of the station by eight securing pylons, an angular momentum translated throughout the entire midsection.

From this distance one could easily spot the ten vessels currently docked at each end of the shape; split evenly between the forms of Solar System Defense Force Warships and civilian transport craft.

A mediation broken by the sound of a shrill alert, the final docking sequence activated as the spaceplane moves to final approach.

“United Three Thirty Nine Orbital you are clear for docking at airlock four.”

“Copy that Station.” The Pilot replies as she slouches forward for a better view of the contact site.

Digitally augmented vision through worn glasses, a mind of flesh intersects with the processing power of flight-control software. A guided approach done with human frailty, small reaction control thruster bursts bringing the spaceplane to dock.

The Combat Engineer shuts his eyes as the final seconds of the approach are reached, the climatic end of the journey from earth to orbit complete with a thump that echoes across the entire vessel.

A moment of silence passes before the announcement comes.

“All passengers this is the Captain speaking: welcome to the United Nations’ Low Orbital Civilian Commerce Station Four. Local time is 12:16 PM and it's a beautiful Friday evening.

Please, for your safety remain vigilant as you move around the cabin as we are currently in a zero gravity zone. All heavy articles of luggage are to be handled with extreme caution.

If you require deplaning assistance, please remain in your seat, one of our crew members will then come to assist you.

On behalf of United Spacelines, I’d like to thank you for joining us on this trip up to earth orbit. Have a safe fleet week everyone.”