◆◆◇◇◆◆
1. The Signage Business
Subaru Station's outer hull stretched across the void like a metal continent, busy with the usual traffic of ships coming and going from every direction.
"...Coordinates confirmed. Port side, near the external hatch at Block Four. Variance within tolerance. Let's begin, Shutia."
In the cockpit of the Silver Anchor, Ledea Mace turned through the job specifications with her usual composure. Silver hair, slender fingers working the holographic display — she looked younger than fifteen, almost out of place in a life this rough. Her eyes, though, held the particular steadiness of someone who had been doing this long enough that focus had become automatic.
Today's job: install corporate signage and safety markers on the station's outer hull. Lock large panels in place with the tow anchor, switch the mining laser to welding mode, seal the connections. Unglamorous work. In vacuum, a millimeter of error became a structural problem, which meant it was also exacting work.
"Copy, sis. Positioning is perfect. Ready when you are."
Shutia's voice carried its usual warmth — the particular quality it only had when directed at Ledea. For her, working shoulder to shoulder in this cramped cockpit was its own category of happiness.
The peace was interrupted by unwelcome noise.
*"Oh, it's you two again!"*
A ship forced its way onto their communication window — gold decorations, aggressively applied, more of them than last time if anything. The face on screen was immediately recognizable.
"Ms. Katrine."
Ledea kept her voice neutral. Katrine straightened up like she'd been waiting for the introduction.
"I'll have you know, the person before you is now the Galaxy's Premier Space Interior Producer, Lady Katrine! I've been specially commissioned to oversee the aesthetic direction of this station's exterior!"
She glanced at Ledea — "Still as cute as ever, I see" — with, remarkably, no particular venom. Then her eyes found Shutia, and the temperature changed.
"And YOU. That little sister of yours with the mouth on her. Today I'm collecting on every 'auntie' comment."
Shutia's response was quiet enough that only Ledea could catch it. "...Can we just ignore her and dump her in the debris field."
Then station management cut in on a separate channel.
*"Silver Anchor, Golden Star — you're both on this job and the deadline's tight. Split the work, split the pay, get it done."*
"...We'll manage. Won't we, Shutia."
"...If sis says so."
Shutia's sigh was loud enough to fill the cockpit.
◆◆◇◇◆◆
2. A Perfect Partner and a Distracted Rival
When the work started, Shutia became something else entirely.
"Watch me, sis."
She pulled the lever. Multiple tow anchors launched from the Silver Anchor in sequence, catching the massive panel like a set of careful hands. Ledea held their position with surgical precision; Shutia guided the panel into place without a single wasted movement. The station workers watching from the exterior deck went quiet.
"...Fixing junction point. Laser output thirty. Beginning weld."
"Copy, sis. Seal complete in five... three, two, one... done."
Flawless.
Katrine, meanwhile, was having a different experience.
"This panel's angle — just a few degrees more to the right would make so much more visual impact for arriving visitors! That's what a producer's instinct tells you!"
She'd stopped following the specifications. Her own aesthetic judgment was more interesting to her than the job sheet, and the distraction showed — her anchor timing slipped, and the panel made contact with the hull at a slight angle.
"That was the ship moving! External factors!"
Shutia's response came through the comm without warmth.
"...You're making a lot of mistakes, Ms. Katrine. It's affecting our shared compensation. More importantly, it's putting marks on work that my sister is attached to." A pause. "If you're going to be in the way, would you consider taking your gold-plated ship into the debris field?"
"EXCUSE me—?!"
◆◆◇◇◆◆
3. Ledea's Decision
Katrine was drawing breath for a full response when Ledea's voice came through and stopped everything.
"That's enough. Ms. Katrine — please hold your position for a moment."
"Ledea! Finally, tell this little—"
"I'm going to act as your operator."
Silence.
Shutia broke it first.
"...Sis. What did you just—"
"I want this job done properly. Ms. Katrine isn't making mistakes because she lacks ability — her work from before was good. She just needs someone matching her timing. If I provide the calls, the problem goes away."
Katrine stared at the monitor. "...You're an unusual child. Offering to direct me."
Shutia's voice, when it came back, had lost its steadiness.
"Sis — your voice is going into her ears? Your instructions are going into her work? That's — that's a form of contamination. Sis's components are going to leak into that woman—"
"Shutia."
One word. Short and clear.
Shutia's breath caught.
"...It's work."
"...Yes."
She said it like someone accepting a verdict.
◆◆◇◇◆◆
4. Crying Through a Perfect Job
"Ms. Katrine. Three degrees starboard. Anchor two, ready to fire. ...Now."
Ledea's instructions were precise and immediate — no room for argument, no wasted words, just the exact information needed at the exact moment it was needed. Katrine, almost despite herself, followed them. Her work steadied within minutes.
"...I see. That's how you do it." She said it quietly, to herself. "The timing is almost too easy to read."
Meanwhile, in the Silver Anchor's secondary seat, something was happening that defied easy description.
"Sis's voice... going to her..."
Shutia was crying.
Not sniffling. Not tearing up. Openly, completely, in the way of someone whose grief was entirely sincere — large tears tracking down her face, fogging the inside of her helmet, her breathing coming in audible waves.
Her hands on the controls did not shake. Her anchor accuracy did not drop. Every panel she placed landed within tolerance. The work continued, flawless and relentless, while its operator fell apart in real time.
"Sis was supposed to be only mine to direct... her voice, her precision, everything... going somewhere else..."
The station workers watching from the exterior deck had stopped commenting. One of them had taken a quiet step backward.
"Hey... is the one in the Silver Anchor... crying?"
"Don't engage. That's something beyond what we're equipped to process. Just... watch the panels."
No one interfered. The job moved forward at extraordinary speed.
◆◆◇◇◆◆
5. Completion, and a Three-Day Declaration
The final panel locked into place well ahead of schedule. Every sign, every marker, positioned with a precision the site supervisor described as the best work he'd seen on this stretch of hull.
Katrine brought her ship alongside the Silver Anchor. Her expression, for once, had lost its combative edge.
"...I'll give credit where it's due. Ledea, your calls were accurate. Every one of them." She straightened. "Next time, I'll be the one providing direction. I intend to become the Galaxy's Premier Operator — so consider yourself on notice."
A new title. A new goal. She left with all her gold paint intact, which was, in its way, a first.
The cockpit went quiet.
Shutia pressed her face into Ledea's shoulder before the hatch had fully sealed.
"She got sis's voice... sis's instructions... sis's precise and wonderful brain waves... those were all supposed to be mine..."
"Yes, yes. Good work. We finished early because of you."
Ledea patted her back twice, unhurried, and waited.
Shutia made a sound somewhere between a sniffle and a word, then pressed her nose to the curve of Ledea's neck.
"...sniff... No trace of that woman's contamination. But it's not enough. Sis-content levels critical."
"Shutia, I need to file the completion report—"
"Decided."
Shutia pulled back just far enough to look at her directly. Her eyes were still wet. They were also completely certain.
"Three days. Starting now. Morning to night, complete proximity. Meals, bathroom, bath — not one minute apart. Understood?"
"...That would interfere significantly with daily life."
"Four days?"
"...Let's go home."
Whether that was an answer or an exit strategy, Ledea didn't clarify.
She set their course for Subaru Station's dock and left the question where it was.