From orbit, Dave didn’t think Tartarus looked all that impressive. A little more blue than most planets he had known, at least seen from this altitude. A little less brown. The usual number of orbital stations, diamonds in the darkness of the night matching the wide swathes of lights on the night side below.
Dave leaned forward just a little to watch the planet below.
He found it intriguing that Madame Cleray’s arc of planets she toured generally remained away from the bigger, wealthier ones. She was playing what they might charitably call the second tier of Dominion worlds. The places without as significant a home-grown entertainment industry. Or a different kind perhaps, geared more towards sporting events and such, and less into the sorts of impressive singing and choreographic expertise of Solaria Femina.
Playing the small-town venues, as it were, rather than the bright lights, where she had to compete with the megastars that had entire touring caravans.
No, the woman and her troupe could make more money here, especially with what she was paying Valentinian. But the captain owned the ship outright, so he didn’t need to make regular payments to bankers, like most others did in this industry.
And Valentinian could haul cargo and passengers in equal amounts, if he needed to, specializing in speed between planets when something needed to be there quickly.
That was one of the reasons Dave had picked Longshot Hypothesis to make his escape. That and a captain with a shadowy past and a well-developed paranoia that would keep him away from immediately assisting the authorities, if something came up.
The White Hats would focus all their efforts on Valentinian, hopefully, ignoring the big, hulking brute known to the galaxy as Dave Hall.
At least until he found a safe, quiet way to get entirely outside of the Dominion and never look back. It had to be quiet, because the Dominion’s borders would not stop that kind of retribution. It would barely delay it.
Dave would still need to maintain a low profile out there, unless he wanted to go all the way to Wildspace and try his luck. The thought had crossed his mind, more than once.
“Ground Control, this is Longshot Hypothesis,” Valentinian called out from his captain’s chair. “Maintaining de-orbital path on schedule. This will be our final check in until we get below atmospheric ionization.”
“Acknowledged, Longshot Hypothesis,” the reply came crisply as Dave listened. “Skies are clear on your path at present. Keep eyes down for unregistered country vessels, as they do not file a flight plan unless they will be making a sustained high orbit.”
“Roger that.”
Dave watched the young man move with expert grace, toggling switches and adjusting dials minutely as the big ship began to flare down into the thicker air below them. The ship flew like a hawk under his guidance.
Dave could see the time spent at Gymnasia Dominia in the motions. While it was a pity Valentinian would never join the Armada, that was in turn a good thing for Dave, as this level of piloting expertise in a budding, young pirate was rare.
“You ready to take control?” Valentinian asked with a sly smile.
Dave took a deep breath and contemplated all the controls. It was much more than stepping into the arena to duel, because here everything became your enemy, but this was much more predictable.
And Dave had been spending time flying simulated take-offs and landings, just so he could eventually do something like this. Maybe even buy his own ship, one of these days, if he could get as good a deal as the reports said Valentinian had.
But then, when Anuradha finally fell four years ago, their entire government-owned merchant fleet fell with it, so cargo transports had gotten cheap. Everybody who wanted to had immediately upgraded, a process that rippled across the entire Dominion economy.
And allowed people like Valentinian Tarasicodissa to buy his own ship. And eventually hire a guy named Dave Hall as his first mate.
“Taking control,” Dave said carefully as he reached out and just rested his fingertips on the right buttons.
Valentinian grinned and leaned back in his chair to watch. That was a ruse, Dave was sure. At the first sign of trouble, Valentinian would override and lock him out.
As he should.
Still, no time like the present.
Dave pressed the first button and control flowed to his board. Altitude: just so. Pitch currently starting to nose down, so they could slice into the thickening air like a sword in an overhead strike. Later, he would flare the nose back and force a glide as a way to bleed off speed. The lateral cut. That would be when he had to watch the boards for too much heat.
All systems green.
“Initiating,” Dave announced in a low voice.
Outside, the horizon suddenly leaned up into the air, relative to the dashboard. Dave added a little thrust, and Longshot Hypothesis began to fall out of the sky.
Hopefully, only metaphorically.