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1. A Quiet Morning, and a Small Independence
The Silver Anchor's living area held nothing but the faint hum of a motor and the steady sound of someone breathing.
On the sofa, Shutia lay sprawled — arms and legs at impractical angles, deep in unguarded sleep. Beside her, the cleaning robot moved in its quiet rounds, restored to its original function after last night's thorough scolding: cameras removed, wax-application settings reset, dignity approximately zero.
"...Honestly. It's entirely your own fault, and you stayed up all night over it."
Ledea Mace stood beside the sofa and looked down at her sister's sleeping face. The sleep deprivation had softened something in her — the sharpness usually there was gone, and what remained looked younger than it had any right to.
Ledea exhaled. She reached down and brushed the hair from Shutia's forehead, gently.
"Try to reflect on it a little. Shutia."
On any other morning, that touch would have produced an immediate *"Sis!"* and arms around her before she could step back. Today, Shutia didn't move at all. She must have been more exhausted than she looked.
Ledea dressed quietly and left a note on the table.
*Going to look around the station for a bit. Back by noon. Stay in bed.*
Normally, the moment the hatch opened, a voice would come after her — *"Where are you going? I'm coming too!"* Today, only the low hum of the gravity system saw her off.
The station corridor, walked alone, was surprisingly wide. And very quiet.
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2. A Familiar Voice, and a Shape Ahead
"Well, if it isn't Ledea. Rare to see you on your own — what happened?"
She had just entered the commercial district plaza when the voice found her — broad and unhurried, belonging to two large men in worn pressure jackets. Station bureau veterans. She'd worked with them before. Rough around the edges; decent underneath.
"...It's been a while. Yes, I'm alone today."
"Ha — and where's that overprotective sister of yours? Don't tell me she finally destroyed something and got herself locked up."
"That's rude. ...She's sleeping in. That's all."
The men looked at each other and laughed.
"Sure, sure. ...Look, Ledea, a kid your size on her own tends to attract the wrong kind of attention. Stay out of the back corridors, alright? We'll be in touch through the guild next time we've got work. Take care of yourself."
One of them moved to pat her on the head, caught the look on her face, and thought better of it. They left.
"...I have survived any number of genuinely dangerous situations as a working professional," Ledea muttered, to no one. "Why does everyone insist on treating me like a child."
She was still muttering when she came around the corner and didn't see the person until they were already in front of her.
"Oh—"
"Oops—"
A soft collision. Ledea lost her footing and sat down hard.
"I'm sorry — are you alright? Are you hurt?"
She looked up. The woman standing over her had blue hair pulled into a loose side tail, and was already reaching down with one slender hand. Around a hundred and sixty centimeters. Taller than Ledea by a significant margin — though that was not a difficult bar to clear.
Ledea took the offered hand and stood.
"No — it was my fault. I wasn't paying attention."
"I'm just glad you're not hurt. You're a lovely young lady — it would be terrible if something happened to you."
The woman brushed the dust from Ledea's sleeve with quiet, practiced care. She looked to be around Shutia's age. But where Shutia burned — that constant, pressing heat — this woman had something else entirely. A stillness like deep water. And underneath it, something that felt like considerable intelligence.
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3. A Clean Defense, or: Asphi Ryud
It happened quickly.
"Out of the way — *move*—!!"
Shouting from across the plaza. A large man with a stolen bag, running full speed in their direction. A pickpocket — and he was not going to slow down.
"Watch out—"
Ledea moved to react. But the blue-haired woman was already a step ahead.
The man swung an arm to knock her aside. "*Move*, lady—"
Her fingers found his side in one quiet motion. A short sound — *crack* — like a circuit closing.
"...Hm?"
Ledea had seen it: a compact stun device, produced from somewhere, delivered with no wasted movement whatsoever. The man folded without a sound, hitting the ground like something that had simply stopped.
"...Oh dear, he seems to have fallen," the woman said, in exactly the tone one uses for minor inconveniences.
She picked up the dropped bag, handed the man to the station guards who had finally arrived, and turned back to Ledea with the same calm smile she'd worn throughout.
"Sorry about that — are you alright? That must have been frightening."
"...I was surprised. That was — very clean."
"You were watching carefully. It's just for self-defense, really."
Then she glanced at the plaza clock and her expression shifted.
"Oh — I need to go pick up Kanoa. I'm sorry, I really must run." She paused, just before turning away, and looked at Ledea with quiet attention. "Before I go — may I ask your name? Lovely young lady?"
"...Ledea. Ledea Mace."
"Ledea. ...I'm Asphi. Asphi Ryud." A small, warm smile. "I don't forget people like you. I hope we meet again somewhere."
She raised a hand in a graceful farewell and disappeared into the crowd.
Ledea stood where she'd been left, and looked at her own palm.
Different from Shutia. Entirely. But carrying something — some quality she couldn't name — that felt, in some way, adjacent.
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4. An Unhinged Nose, or: Residual Suspicion
The hatch had barely finished opening when the voice came at her from the dark.
"...Sis. Where did you go?"
Shutia was standing in the corridor, hair disordered, still half-asleep.
"You're up. I only went for a walk. You read the note, yes?"
Shutia's eyes snapped fully open.
"I read it! That doesn't mean I'm *fine* with it! Sis, you can't just go out alone — the station is full of awful people, what if someone grabbed you, what if you were somewhere crying and I didn't even know—"
"You're catastrophizing. ...Come on, let go — it's time for lunch."
Ledea moved to step past her.
Shutia's nose twitched.
"......sniff. ...sniff. ...*sniff*—?!"
The color of Shutia's face changed in an instant. She closed the distance between them in one step and buried her face in Ledea's shoulder, her hair, the collar of her jacket — inhaling with the focused attention of someone conducting a criminal investigation.
"What are you doing — stop that—!"
"...A woman. There's a woman's scent on you. Underneath sis's soap, there's another — unfamiliar — composed, polished, *irritatingly refined* scent that is absolutely not mine—!!"
The interrogation commenced.
"*What happened?! Who is she?! Who did you let hold your hand?! Who touched you?! Tell me everything — her name — where she lives—*"
"I *bumped into someone*, that's all! Calm down, Shutia—!"
Ledea retreated to the kitchen at speed, pursued by a voice howling *"Sis — infidelity is not permitted—!"* echoing off every surface in the corridor.
As she began making lunch, the memory of Asphi's quiet smile surfaced.
*(...She might be a little frightening when she's angry, that one.)*
The afternoon proceeded from there.