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1. The Afterglow of Amber, and the Temptation of New Technology
"...Here we are. Comet Center. It has a certain — history to it."
Ledea said it quietly, half to herself, as the Silver Anchor settled into its berth with a dull vibration.
Comet Center. An old outpost from the early days of galactic development — the sisters had been here before, a short traffic-control job, some time ago. Exposed piping, anti-rust paint applied so many times the original color was anyone's guess, the particular smell of machine oil that belonged to places like this and nowhere else. A different quality of atmosphere than Subaru Station's chaotic energy — sootier, more worn-in, and somehow more familiar for it.
"It brings back memories, doesn't it, sis. You were incredibly cute back then too. Want me to play the recording over dinner tonight?"
"...No. The exhibition is the priority. Come on, Shutia."
Ledea's cheeks did something slight and involuntary. She opened the hatch at a pace that suggested she was done with the subject.
The venue, when they reached it, was everything the station around it wasn't — the latest in everything, color and light and the hum of things that had just been invented. Holographic displays spun in the air. Manufacturer droids stood at attention beside their products. Ship crews pressed close to the displays with the focused intensity of people who knew exactly what they were looking for.
"...This. A superconducting focusing lens, latest generation. With this, grade-A hard-crust ore would cut like — this would change everything—"
The mask came off the moment Ledea stepped inside. The composed pilot was still there somewhere, but the girl who loved equipment had taken over the controls, moving from display to display as if pulled, running her fingers along specification sheets with something close to reverence.
"Sis's eyes are literally sparkling — if I could monopolize that expression, I'd buy out this entire venue to keep it going—"
Shutia was documenting the situation from every angle, quietly overwhelmed. She had the means to purchase anything here without difficulty. She had decided that was beside the point. Today she was a loyal escort. And a camera operator.
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2. The Wall of the Budget, and a Golden Laugh
"...This one is also remarkable. The Cerberus III multi-function laser. Mining, cutting, precision welding. ...But the price. The price is — there are too many zeros—"
Ledea counted them again. The result was the same. She exhaled.
The missed prize money from the race was a real loss. Performance on one side of the scale, budget on the other, and the scale was not being cooperative.
*(...Sis, don't look so sad. Although — sad sis is also very cute. I want to press my face against her and make it better.)*
Shutia was mid-thought when something cut through the ambient noise of the exhibition floor — a laugh, high and carrying and absolutely certain of its own impressiveness.
"Ohohoho! A frontier salvager counting small change and looking miserable about it — I simply cannot stand by!"
Both sisters turned.
Standing there, outshining every piece of cutting-edge equipment in the immediate vicinity, was a woman in a gold-threaded dress that had its own opinions about how much attention it deserved.
"Ms. Katrine..."
Ledea inclined her head. Katrine deployed a gesture that would have involved a fan if she'd been holding one, and looked down at them both.
"What a coincidence, Ledea. Running into each other at a dusty little retro station like this — fate has a sense of humor."
"What are you doing here, ob— Ms. Katrine. I thought practical equipment wasn't your area."
Shutia caught herself at the last syllable. Katrine's eyebrow moved.
"I heard you almost say something just now! How rude! I am here to acquire a specialized coating agent for the Golden Star — an upgrade to the finish, which is already exceptional. That's all."
"...A coating agent. Before the coating, perhaps the hull integrity—"
"Be quiet! The last race was a minor biorhythm disruption, nothing more! Next time I face you, I'll blast that dull little ship of yours into dust with my golden radiance!"
"Oh, big talk from someone who self-destructed off the course. You couldn't touch sis's flying and you know it."
"Excuse me?! You, who can't see anything because you're too busy staring at your sister—"
"There's nothing worth looking at besides sis!"
The argument escalated. The surrounding clients stopped to watch. Someone nearby made the quiet calculation that this was more interesting than the exhibit.
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3. The Ultimate "No!", the End of the Universe
"...Shutia. Ms. Katrine. That's enough."
Low. Even. The kind of voice that doesn't need volume.
Ledea looked between them with the expression of someone who had exhausted their supply of surprise at this particular situation some time ago. There was something in her eyes that belonged to a person watching children make a scene — deep patience, genuine exasperation, and the specific quality of someone who has decided a correction is necessary.
"We are in public. Stop this."
"That's — yes, perhaps my voice was slightly elevated for a public setting..."
Katrine deflated with the air of someone who had been reminded of something they actually cared about. Ledea turned to Shutia.
"And you."
"Yes! Sis, I'll have her banished to another dimension immediately—"
"Shutia."
Ledea raised one finger and pointed it at Shutia's nose.
"No."
Not a reprimand. Something gentler and more absolute than that — the correction you give to someone you're fond of, delivered at close range, with complete finality.
In that instant, something detonated in Shutia's mind.
*(...Sis just. Sis pointed at me and said. 'No.' To me. At this distance—)*
The processing failed. Rebooted. Failed again.
Shutia had imagined, in various dark moments, what it would feel like to be scolded by Ledea. In those imaginings it had been approximately equivalent to the heat death of the universe. An annihilation event. The end.
What had just happened was not that. What had just happened was approximately ten million times worse in the best possible way, and Shutia's nervous system had not been designed to handle it.
"...I..."
She went down at the knees.
"I'm sorry, sis — I'm so sorry — I reacted to that gold-plated woman and made you — you had to point at me and say no — I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll never trouble you again, don't give up on me, I'll kneel on the floor right now and demonstrate my contrition through direct contact with the surface—"
"I did not ask for that. Collect yourself. — Ms. Katrine, you're not a bad person. Don't dig in over this."
Ledea sighed and patted her sister's shoulder with the mild resignation of someone who had made peace with their circumstances.
Katrine stared at the scene in front of her for a long moment.
"...Ledea. I'm beginning to think your talent for managing this particular person may be the most exceptional thing about you. ...I find myself suddenly fatigued. My declaration of total victory will have to wait for another occasion. I won't lose next time!"
She waved one hand, without much force behind it, and disappeared into the crowd.
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4. A Find, and a Sweet Amber Moment
Past the main exhibition floor, in a quieter section of the venue, Ledea found it.
A multi-function high-power cutting laser — not current generation, but maintained to a standard that made the age irrelevant. Output stability, sweep-angle tracking, precision across all three functions. Every number where she needed it to be. Within budget.
"...This is the one."
The decision was made before she'd finished reading the spec sheet. The expression that had been dealing with Shutia and Katrine was entirely gone, replaced by the quiet satisfaction of someone who had found the right thing.
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On the way back, through the station's main corridor.
Ledea's step was lighter than usual — the particular lightness of returning with something worth having.
"Excellent result. The mining efficiency improvement will be significant. Grade-A ore will be much more accessible now. I'm looking forward to seeing how it works with your anchor technique, Shutia."
"...Sis... are you still... are you angry...?"
Shutia was looking up at her sideways, tentative. The impact of the earlier correction had apparently not fully cleared.
Ledea stopped. Looked up at her considerably taller sister.
"...Really. How long are you going to carry this."
She said it with a small, helpless laugh — the kind that meant fond rather than exasperated — and reached up to put her hand on Shutia's head.
She patted it. Gently, deliberately.
"I'm not angry. I know you were angry on my behalf. Just — a little more quietly, next time. Please."
"Sis—!"
Shutia's face did what a closed flower does when the light finds it.
"She's not angry — she doesn't hate me — the world is still continuing—!"
Before the sentence was finished she had wrapped both arms around Ledea and was holding on.
"Shutia! Let go, I can't breathe—"
"No! I need sis recharging! Sniff... the station dust and machine oil and underneath it the smell that's just sis, just hers, warm and a little sweet — this is the galaxy's most irreplaceable treasure—"
"Stop smelling me in public! We're going home!"
Ledea's face had gone red. She did not, however, push her away.
The rust-colored light of the old station wrapped around them both — amber, the kind that comes from things that have lasted a long time.
Another day added to the catalog of their lives: a little crooked, a little overwhelming, and warmer than it had any right to be.
"Sis, I love you! Tonight we celebrate with my special non-alcoholic sis-exclusive custom wine!"
"...Don't overdo it. We have heavy work starting tomorrow."
"Yes, sis!"
The Silver Anchor, with its new equipment aboard, settled its wings and prepared for whatever came next.