It took me a little while to figure out what song to have on autorepeat while I redid the first chapter.
I punched my alien-built cargo hauler down through the upper edge of One-Eighteen’s atmosphere, the keening of ghosts sharp-tongued in my ears.
They told me in training the haulers from this planet were stolid beasts, good and reliable, but no racers. They also told me the keening was just feedback from One-Eighteen’s unique combination of atmosphere and magnetosphere. That sound doesn’t mean anything, my first instructor kept telling me. Don’t freak out when it gets into your head. It won’t be the worst thing you ever hear in the Tomb Worlds.
The thought made me laugh as I spotted a hole in the sky, down and to the right, and just the right size and shape for a barrel dive. Why would I want it out of my head? It was as perfect as the rest of this planet!
I fed thrust hard as I hit the hole, flicking my hauler sideways just enough to miss the edge of free-drifting nanites that was all was left of the old planetary traffic network. The Earth-tech computer blinked twice at how close I had cut it, but I ignored that as much as I did its regular old speed warning. Whoever programmed it must have been from one of the Great Powers of Earth. Colonists have a much better idea of what ‘too fast’ means.
Fortunately, I didn’t have human passengers on this run, and nothing less fragile than fabricator feedstock, so I could really cut loose for the next part. Controlled, powered descents from orbit are supposed to take a nice, solid, boring ten minutes. It’s a safe number! It prevents needless holes in the ground! I approve of it.
For other people.
The new opening has a sense of movement and danger. It does an excellent job of drawing the reader in. Well done!