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1. A Dream of a Cockpit, or: Silver Excitement
"...Look at this, Shutia. The latest model from Michael Navy — the next-generation integrated steering unit, MN-X01."
Subaru Station's special test dock. Ledea Mace's voice was half an octave higher than usual, and her eyes were doing something they very rarely did.
In front of her sat a cockpit that hadn't reached the market yet. A variable nano-repulsion bucket seat that adjusted its shape to the pilot's body. A response-type joystick that transmitted even the smallest movement of a fingertip without loss. This was not the category of equipment that working salvagers used on aging ships. This was something else.
"A priority monitor trial for pilots with a proven record... I didn't expect to be contacted."
"Obviously they contacted you, sis! The people at Michael Navy finally understood who has the most precise hands in the galaxy."
Shutia had not been included in the monitor trial. She stood behind her sister as an escort, which suited her perfectly — she had no interest in the equipment's performance. She was devoting her full attention to storing a high-resolution record of Ledea's expression, which had done something she had never seen it do before.
"Thank you for coming today, Mace sisters. I'm Howard, your contact for this session."
A company representative in a navy suit appeared with a professional smile.
"Today's monitor covers operational feel under extreme conditions, and physical fatigue accumulation over extended combat and piloting sequences. Ledea — are you ready?"
"Yes. Whenever you'd like."
Ledea sat down in the seat without hesitation. The way it received her produced an involuntary sound — not quite a word.
"...Shutia. The hold on this. It feels like it would completely cancel out gravitational acceleration effects."
"I'm so glad, sis! Should I buy it for you afterward? If we force it into the Silver Anchor somehow—"
"Think about the budget. I'm focusing on the trial now."
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2. A Reunion with a Rival, Self-Proclaimed Galaxy's Finest
The simulator came online. Ledea's attention went into the virtual space and didn't look back.
A dense asteroid belt. A high-concentration gas nebula. A field of space junk on complex intersecting orbits. Ledea moved through each scenario with a light touch, getting the measure of the new joystick as she went, clearing obstacles in sequence.
Then, from the simulator booth next to hers, a familiar voice arrived.
"My, the feedback on this unit... I'm detecting a slight delay. It seems Michael Navy's engineering hasn't quite caught up with the sensibilities of the galaxy's premier monitor reviewer."
Shutia's brow moved.
"...Her again. She turns up everywhere, that woman."
Katrine was in the adjacent booth — vertical curls immaculate, seated in an equally lavish chair, delivering her assessment to no one in particular.
She noticed them a moment later.
"Oh? You're the one who's always attached to Ledea — the clingy younger sister!"
Shutia laughed through her nose and lifted one shoulder.
"Sorry to disappoint, but today's trial is sis's alone. I'm just here as sis's motivation, her moral support, the most important person in her life. I don't have time for self-proclaimed reviewers."
Ledea let the decorative parts of that sentence go by without comment.
"...How dare you! But fine." Katrine pointed at Ledea in the pilot's seat. "The last race didn't produce a conclusion — as far as I'm concerned, that result was void. Today, in this state-of-the-art arena, we settle the question of who has the true steering ability. What do you say, Ledea?"
Shutia put a hand on Ledea's shoulder and lowered her voice.
"You can ignore her, sis. She's not worth the time."
Ledea's response was not what Shutia expected.
She tightened her grip on the control stick. She looked back at Katrine through the monitor with an even gaze.
"...All right, Ms. Katrine."
"Sis?!"
"I wasn't satisfied with how that ended either. Equipment like this — built from an engineer's passion — needs the right conditions to show what it can do. A pilot needs someone to compete against. As a fellow pilot, I accept. Second round."
Something quiet and certain settled in Ledea's eyes.
Shutia stared for a moment, then closed her hand into a fist.
"If sis is serious, I'm giving everything I have to support you! Let's turn that woman into stardust—!"
"It's a simulator, so stardust isn't on the table. But I won't lose."
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3. Accelerating Pride
"Howard. Please connect both of us to the same simulation environment simultaneously."
The company staff exchanged looks.
"That's — the schedule has this as an endurance test, so—"
"That's fine. Please proceed. I'll vouch for the data quality."
Howard looked at the two of them and felt the pressure of something he didn't have a category for. He swallowed and nodded.
"...Understood. All systems, switching to versus mode!"
The stars of the virtual space accelerated.
Ledea's silver craft and Katrine's gold high-speed ship ran side by side through a storm of debris.
"Hohoho! This seat responds like an extension of my own body!"
"Not yet, Ms. Katrine. That trajectory will cost you speed when you hit the neutral gas pocket ahead."
Ledea had taken the measure of the new joystick completely. The minimum motion, the exact input — the large virtual ship threaded through gaps that shouldn't have fit it.
"Sis, micro-meteor cluster at three o'clock — barrel roll, straight through!"
Shutia watched the external monitor and delivered what she described as precise support, though it was closer to passionate commentary.
"Incredible, sis! That evasion just now — it belongs in galactic history! I want to record your back from this angle forever—!"
The company staff watched their monitors with expressions that had moved past surprise into something closer to awe.
"...Impossible. This was supposed to be a stress test for the new seat's load limits. She's generating data we weren't scheduled to collect until next quarter—"
One hour. Two.
The sustained high-intensity maneuvering ground at concentration. Katrine's movements began showing the edges of urgency.
"How — why won't you fall back?! My maneuvers are based on the latest theory — how can a child be keeping pace with—"
"Ms. Katrine. I have something you can't find in theory. It's not something I can explain — it's passion."
Ledea had found the feel of it — the way the nano-material in the seat read her muscles and completed the intention before the motion was fully formed.
Final push. A zone simulating extreme gravitational stress.
Ledea let Katrine pull ahead, fell deliberately into her slipstream, and used it. At the exit point, when Katrine's ship drifted wide under centrifugal force, Ledea went through the gap on the inside.
"...Checkmate."
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4. The Winner's Aftermath, and a Real Concern
The simulator hatch opened.
A soft exhale of air, and Ledea came back to the real world with sweat on her face.
"...Winner: Ledea Mace. Score differential: zero point three percent."
Howard's voice reached a dock that had gone completely silent.
"...Infuriating — how dare I lose by a fraction of a percent to—"
Katrine hit the armrest, pushed herself upright, smoothed her hair, and turned to Ledea with the expression of someone who had not finished.
"I refuse to accept this! The seat was calibrated slightly in your favor today, that's all. Next time — next time I will take back the title of galaxy's finest, mark my words!"
She left the way she always left: completely, and at speed.
"...Finally quiet."
Shutia arrived with a towel.
"You were incredible, sis. I could watch the way your fingers moved in that last sequence in slow motion for the rest of my life."
Ledea leaned back in the seat and let out one satisfied breath.
"...Yes. Excellent data. Michael Navy's engineering really is exceptional."
Then she looked around. The staff, standing in stunned silence. Her own slightly disheveled state.
"...Oh."
She came back to herself.
"...Shutia. I got carried away. I turned a monitor trial into a personal competition — the data won't reflect objective evaluation conditions at all—"
"Isn't that fine? You were enjoying yourself. And that kind of data isn't something you can get under normal conditions. Look — the staff are frozen in place from the sheer quality of what they witnessed."
Ledea looked at Howard, uncertain.
"Um — Howard. I apologize, I let it get away from me somewhat—"
Howard's hands were shaking as he worked his terminal. He took both of Ledea's hands in his.
"...Extraordinary. That was absolutely extraordinary, Ledea. More than we imagined — this is genuinely the most valuable feedback we have ever received!"
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5. The Reward, and an Unwelcome Postscript
One week later.
A notification from Michael Navy arrived in Ledea's inbox.
"...Shutia, look at this. The payment is double what was agreed. They're calling it a bonus."
"We did it! That should cover the scanner you wanted, shouldn't it?"
Ledea was studying the number on her terminal with visible satisfaction when she reached the postscript, and her expression became slightly complicated.
*P.S. The data from this session was extraordinarily valuable. We would be honored if you would join us again for our next endurance trial — ideally alongside Lady Katrine once more. We are confident that your rivalry will drive our technology to heights we could not reach otherwise.*
"...Ms. Katrine again."
Ledea said it with a helpless laugh. There was no displeasure in her voice. If anything, the sound of it suggested she was already looking forward to whatever came next.
"Ugh, really?! We don't need that woman!"
Shutia stared at the promotional photo Katrine had apparently sent along unsolicited and made her feelings known.
"Next time I'm sitting right next to sis's seat and filling every one of that woman's comm channels with static—"
"...Shutia. You are not going to interfere with the work."
"Protecting sis's peace of mind IS my primary professional obligation!"
The sisters' voices filled the ship, warm in the light.
Ledea pulled up the parts catalog on her terminal, running her fingertips over the keys — still feeling, faintly, the ghost of the new control stick — and began browsing with an expression that had not entirely stopped smiling.