The red light illuminated the large airlock in crimson. Watching the small HUD on her helmet display tick down the final seconds, Sally tightened her grip on her handle bars in anticipation. She had to win. Anything less was unacceptable. The light blinked green as the timer hit three, two, one. The Kitalpha Invitational started with the hatch blowing open, the air rushing out into the vacuum of space, and Sally and her fellow racers tumbling out into the void. It was a race to answer the siren call of gravity from the orbiting launch shuttle to the designated landing zone on the planet below. Instantly losing all sense of direction, Sally swallowed down the inevitable rising nausea. The stars flashed by strobing and then the dark silhouette of the planet below, stars, shadow, stars, shadow. The automatic stabilizers on her rocketrider fired, each burst a sudden shock of noise in the silence of vacuum. As soon as she stabilized and was facing directly away from the launch shuttle, she fired her booster to start her retroburn and the roar of the rocket filled her suit. Its vibrations transmitted into her bones as she sat astride her rocketrider like an antique motorcycle. Pressed hard against her back, her harness's rigid frame held her spine in place. She quickly changed her vector to add some radial-out. Orbital Descent Racing was all about the physics of orbital mechanics. That and chasing the unparalleled euphoric adrenaline high of racing down from the heavens like an avenging angel. 
The night before, Sally had finally come to accept that her longtime sponsor, Centauri Rockets, had dropped her. Her late acceptance of reality meant that she was forced out of her normal pre-race routine of watching an old movie as she reviewed the latest weather reports. Instead she had spent the night imagining she was drowning their centaur mascot as she painted over their logos. The hope of new sponsors had been the only thing stopping her from painting something denigrating of Centauri Rockets. Orbital Descent Racing was an expensive endeavor and Sally needed those sponsors. Without them, she wouldn't be able to pay to refuel her rocketracer. She could forget about all of the other maintenance that was needed in between races. She hadn't actually won any of her races yet but she had finished second or third a few times. It was enough to keep her on the professional rankings and to keep her sponsor happy with her. Or it had. Centauri Rockets had pulled her sponsorship after she had finished sixth at the Polaris Open. Her bank accounts were approaching empty. She had put it all on winning this race, getting the prize money and hopefully picking up some new sponsors.  
Sally's HUD alerted that the landing zone was just visible on the horizon behind her. Sally was facing away from the braking burn of her rocketrider so she couldn't see the landing zone yet, but the sunrise was just starting to lighten the horizon. The launch shuttle had been just skimming the edge of the atmosphere and Sally was already starting to hear the whistle of the thin upper atmosphere rush past her. She backed off the throttle a little. She didn't want to deorbit too fast and undershoot the landing zone. Her HUD tracked a few other racers' trajectories that descended past her. She allowed herself a thin smile. She decided the timing was right and ramped up the thrust to full power, this time with more radial-out. 
Sally's rocketrider quickly burned through its fuel and she pulled the release. Her drogue chute exploded from its packaging on her chest, caught the thin air, and pulled her forward. Her rocketrider raced away behind her, unhindered by the air resistance of the chute. It would fall alone into the ocean below to be picked up by the recovery teams. Sally checked her track to the landing zone. She needed to wait a little longer before cutting the drogue chute. She glanced at the planet growing larger beneath her. It appeared almost purple. The native plant life must have developed a non-typical photosynthesis instead of the more usual green or blue. Sally returned her attention to the race and cut her drogue chute. The wind was creating enough drag on her with just her suit. She used the current of the air to maneuver so that she was pointed head first towards the landing zone with her arms held by her side. 
The landing zone looked like a beach resort of some kind. There were small structures, little more than dots from Sally's distance, that looked like they were some sort of cabanas scattered along the shoreline. They were coming in from over the ocean. The racers who landed short would splash land in the water. Sally almost laughed at the race organizers' cruel joke. There would undoubtedly be rescue boats out there to fish out the sorry idiots. There probably weren't human-eating sharks or kraken or whatever in the water. Probably. Honestly, Sally didn't know much about the local ecology. Sally studied the planetary mass, atmospheric density, and wind shears before her races, not the local ecology. The racers who had undershot and were definitely headed for a splash down were probably just the ultrarich jerks who weren't the real competitors. They were probably the ones who had bought their way into the line up. The race organizers couldn't let them get eaten even if they had all signed waivers. Sally had been invited as the name of the race implied. No buy in required for her. Sally didn't mind the rich paying their way in. Their entrance fees just meant there was more prize money for the real racers to win. 
Sally could just see the white crests of waves in the ocean beneath her as she sped over the water. She checked her altitude and cursed. She was still going to undershoot the landing zone. Spreading her arms and legs, her wingsuit caught the air and provided lift. It would slow her fall, but should be just enough to extend her trajectory to the beach. She saw a crimson blur out of the corner of her eye and instinctively twisted to swerve to her left. Valentina. Valentina had won the Tour last season and loved to showboat. She had just purposefully dive bombed Sally to slow her down. Sally swore to herself. Valentina was now directly beneath and slightly ahead of Sally as they both glided through the air towards the landing zone. Sally could read the Red Wolf Logistics logo on the back of her wing suit as they both raced towards the beach. The logo of the howling wolf against a red moon was taunting. Valentina's own mother was the CEO of Red Wolf Logistics. While Valentina wasn't expected to inherit her mother's position, it couldn't exactly have been a struggle to get that sponsorship. 
Sally pulled her focus from Valentina and checked her HUD. The two of them had a sizable lead over the rest of the field. It was just a battle between the two of them now. Good. This was a battle Sally could win. Without a conscious decision, she took a risk of her own. Orbital Descent Racing was a contact sport afterall. Trading altitude for speed, she dropped below Valentina and began to over take, but then flared upwards clipping Valentina's feet. Valentina went tumbling, losing her carefully practiced aerodynamic form for crucial seconds. Instead of gliding towards the landing zone, she was tumbling downwards until she managed to regain her stability. Sally spent those crucial seconds taking the lead and continuing her race towards the beachhead. 
The beach was approaching fast and Sally could now see the red and white bullseye marking the finish line with her own eyes. She sped towards it, pulling her final parachute at the last second and landed hard, tumbling. She came to a stop in the dead center of the bullseye. She lay there exhausted as the adrenaline failed her when a soaking wet Valentina walked up, stood over her, and said, "Nice trick at the end there." She offered a hand to help Sally stand up.