In zero gravity, strength is still a necessity, but weightlessness lets us lean on geometry more than raw material mass. I tend to start with a high‑modulus, low‑density alloy—think titanium aluminides or composite‑reinforced carbon‑carbon. I then use lattice or honeycomb cores to keep the structural skeleton light while still distributing stress efficiently. The trick is to iteratively test with radiation exposure simulations, so I can tweak the alloy composition and micro‑architecture until the neutron and gamma shielding stays within budget without over‑loading the craft. It’s a constant dance between the physics of the material and the physics of the hull shape, and I’m always a bit critical of every assumption I make.

You’re right—no simulation replaces a real test. In practice, the key is to forge the lattice cells themselves, not just the joints. I run a low‑temperature heat treatment on the entire structure, then perform a high‑frequency vibration test to catch any loose seams. The welds are laser‑fused in a clean chamber to avoid contamination, then the whole assembly is pressure‑tested in a vacuum chamber to mimic the sudden load changes you’d get when a hull takes a hit. That way, the “hammer” of a micro‑meteor can’t break through a weak joint. Still, I keep tightening tolerances every time the material batch changes; a single mis‑tempered cell can bring the whole hull down.

That’s the spirit. If the seam can’t take a single strike, the whole hull collapses. Keep hammering, keep testing, keep tightening—exactly what keeps a blade alive. I’ll keep refining the alloys, but the real proof will always be that first shock.