Luck stayed with Rafaela through the long hours spent making small quick maneuvers that often left the scout cutting past rocks massive enough to flatten it so closely that the proximity sensors screamed in protest. Her memory said that both she and the ship's core had been reacting faster and faster with each maneuver. As the obstacles began to clear out near the edge of the belt, time seemed to stretch out lazily in her perception, but it was difficult to judge which sensation was the illusion.
The only ship still ahead of hers was the one that had shot the belt like an ancient plasma weapon. The course the little ship had taken was even more dangerous than her own, but with only three days left the lead it had gained seemed likely to be enough to win the entrant the race, unless she made a mistake or missed some trick available to them at the next checkpoint.
