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He scanned the beach with a frown. They'd managed to survive the landing, but that was just the start of things. They were on an unknown planet and the sun was setting, cooler temperatures rolling in that hadn't been there before. Her shivers were barely perceptible, but to him, they might as well have been violent convulsions. And he had no way of knowing how cold it was going to get tonight.
"We need shelter and warmth," he told her as he looked around. His eyes settled on the driftwood scattered along the shoreline and he grunted.
It didn't take him long to gather up enough driftwood and he started to build a lean-to against a rocky outcrop at the back of the beach. He wasted no time, making sure that each piece interlocked with the next, as methodically as if he were constructing the framework of a new ship. He worked as quickly as he could. Night was falling fast, and most planets’ darkness brought out predators. He wanted to be sure but if it came down to a fight, there was only one route of attack for him to defend.
With the structure secure, he motioned her into it and turned his attention to building a fire. He stacked the smaller pieces of wood into a triangular formation, leaving enough space at the base to slide in his makeshift kindling—a collection of dried seaweed and smaller twigs.
She watched him work, her arms wrapped around herself. He kept sneaking glances at her. Even dirty with soot and bedraggled as she was, she was still the most beautiful female in existence to him. The light to his darkness, and his reason for living.
The fire caught, the kindling and seaweed igniting the dry driftwood. With a sigh of relief, she moved closer to the meager heat. He tilted his head to the side, smiling at her as he nurtured it, feeding it larger pieces of wood until it roared to life, pushing back the chill of dusk.
The warmth seemed to thaw some of the tension from her body and she uncurled from the tiny ball she crunched up into. She watched him, eyes sharp and intelligent, her intensity making him keenly aware of her presence, but he ignored it for now. He needed to get the fire nice and hot, to keep her warm and safe from night predators while he ventured back to the crashed pod to see what supplies he could recover.
He squatted in front of the blazing fire, poking at it with a stick to make sure it was burning evenly, and glanced down at his wrist computer. With the destruction of the ship, it was more than useless. Given that it usually went up to a larger ship’s computer, it didn't have much onboard power or processing capacity. In fact, pretty much all it could tell him was the ambient temperature, and an approximate time for sunrise.
But he tapped through the screen anyway, comforted by the familiar motions. On a hunch, he checked the messaging system, and his heart sank as red letters blinked back at him: 'Message Send Failed.'
"Draanth!" The curse slipped from his lips before he could stop it.
Sadie looked up sharply, concern etched on her features. "What's wrong?"
He met her gaze. She trusted him so much, but now he might have to shatter that trust.
"I sent a message to S'aad for a rescue," he said. "Just before the ship came apart. But it didn't go through."
Panic flitted across her face for a second, but then she masked it with a forced smile. "So... shouldn't we just wait? The rescue teams will search for us, won’t they?"
He shook his head. "This planet wasn't on our original route," he explained, his voice grim and serious. "We had to go off course to escape the pirates. They wouldn't think to look for us here."
Her shoulders slumped, and she nibbled at her lower lip. He'd noticed the quirk before. It was a dead giveaway that she was nervous. She looked up at him again.
"So what are we going to do? You've got a plan, right? I mean, you guys are all warriors. Surely you've trained for stuff like this?"
"We do… yes." What he didn't tell her was that often warriors were left for weeks, or months even, before rescue. He didn't think she needed to hear that.
"So…" She tilted her head to the side curiously. "What's the plan?"
He glanced down to where the bracelet he’d given her was wrapped around her wrist and a new plan formed in his mind.
"Your bracelet," he said, reaching for her arm. "I can adapt its tracking technology to send out a location signal rather than just respond to a ping."
She jerked away, her eyes widening.
"What do you mean… tracking technology?"
12
Sadie stared at the delicate bracelet, its intricate pattern glinting in the firelight. She shivered, though not from the cold. The idea of being tagged and tracked like cattle made her feel sick.
"So this tracks me?" she asked, her voice quiet. Too quiet.
His eyes narrowed. "You have to understand, it's for your own protection. Should anything happen?—"
She laughed, the sound bitter. "For my own good? Yeah, right… the typical excuse of male oppression throughout history. What you mean to say is that this… thing." She shook the bracelet on her wrist at him. "Is to keep me from running off or being taken. Like I'm some animal you've tagged."
Bile rose sharp and immediate, burning the back of her throat. Like an idiot, she'd laughed at the protesters back on Earth… the ones who accused the Lathar of using Human women as breeding stock, literally broodmares in their Mate Program. Perhaps she should've listened to them.
His nostrils flared as his jaw clenched. "It is nothing like that. I gave that to you because I cannot bear the thought of losing you."
