Warlord's Mercy - Cynthia Sax Page 0,3

had avoided those. Hope blossomed inside her. They might clear the—

A boom echoed across the arid landscape, and her optimism shattered, crashing as the vessel must have done. A huge plume of red dust rose before her.

“Any being in the vicinity will see that cloud.” She moved faster, determined to be the first being to arrive at the wreckage. If the crew remained alive, she would ensure they stayed that way.

Lea passed a porthole half buried in the ground. Its surface was fractured with cracks.

She rounded the base of a spire, jumped over a piece of twisted metal sticking out of the sand. More and more fragments of what she suspected was the ship obstructed her progress.

Her nostrils twitched. The scent of spilled fuel clung to the air.

Judging by the debris around her, she doubted she’d have anyone to save. It would take a miracle to have survived the crash, and she had stopped believing in those four solar cycles ago.

While she maintained her harsh pace, she indulged her sadness, grieving over the deaths of the unknown crew for one, two heartbeats.

Then she pushed those emotions away. She had to do that. Life on Chamele 4 was brutally hard. If she wished to stay alive, she had to focus on the dangers around her, and what she needed to do and to obtain in order to escape her current situation.

That included a working power converter. The ship might have one.

As she approached the crash site, her body responded in the most peculiar way—her nipples tightening and her pussy growing wet. She rubbed her leather-clad thighs together. It was as though…

She was aroused.

By the destruction of a ship. Her face heated. Stars. She had to venture somewhere where there was a safe community of beings. The solitude was impacting her brain.

She rounded a bend and skidded to a stop. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. Her ability to speak returned.

That hadn’t been a ship she’d seen. “It’s an escape pod.”

The tiny vessel was jammed between a boulder and the side of the mountain.

“Ohhh…the damage is bad, really bad.” The entire roof had been torn open. Its side panels were gouged and dented.

There were markings on it. She gazed closer at it.

“That’s the universal language.” Almost every being knew it. “And Dorian.” That was written and spoken by a species bearing the same name. She smiled. “Thank you, Father. I never believed I’d use Dorian, but you insisted I learn it, and now it might save me.”

That knowledge would be useful to locate the power converter.

“Get moving, Lea.” She extracted daggers from the sheaths on her thighs. “You have no time to dawdle. Others will arrive at the site soon.”

Parts were hard to find. Every being on the planet would be seeking to strip the escape pod of anything at all usable.

And newcomers weren’t the only possible source of danger. She approached the small vessel slowly, carefully. “Assume it is occupied and the being is hostile.”

Severed cables snapped and writhed on the sands around her. Blue sparks lit the area. Fuel wet the sand. It was a hazardous combination.

“You have to do this.” She might not get another chance to retrieve a power converter. They were coveted and in high demand.

A set of bloody handprints decorated a side panel. Lea paused.

“That’s one large palm.” The being’s fingers were thick, appeared human or humanoid. “I’m guessing you’re a male.”

The handprints relayed more than that.

“You’re injured.” She glanced at the ground.

There was no trail of blood, not that she could detect. She didn’t see any footprints.

“And you’re missing.” He had vanished into the air.

She paused for a moment, uncertain of her next actions.

“You can’t be that injured, not if you moved that quickly.” He should survive for a couple more moments. “I’ll extract the power converter before I search for you.”

He must be hidden. It would be safer for him if he remained that way while she found the part she needed.

Her gaze returned to the escape pod. “Stars. I hope there are no dead bodies inside there.”

She’d seen too much death in her lifespan, didn’t want to see more.

“You can do this.” Taking a fortifying breath, she sheathed her daggers, grabbed the edge of the escape pod, and pulled herself upward, grunting with the effort.

She peered into the small vessel.

“It’s empty.” She exhaled, almost giddy with relief. “Thank the stars.”

Puddles of rich red blood pooled on one of the white seats. More blood slicked the floor. A jagged piece of metal