WashedUp by Viola Grace

Safi has been a pilot for years, never expecting to end her days on an interdicted planet, but blowing out her engines and lawn-darting into the ocean set her fate. She wakes and is told that her body will not last long enough to allow her to survive to a rescue, but there is an option. She can find a husband and join the underwater colony with a full transformation to water breathing, or she can die in under a week. For a woman whose prime personality trait is survival, it isn't too much of a choice.
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    This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
    Washed Up
    Copyright © 2011 Viola Grace
    Cover art by Martine Jardin
    All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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    Washed Up
    A Trapezium Exclusive
    By
    Viola Grace

    "Damn, damn, damn!" Safi tried to keep control of her ship while it lawn-darted toward the surface.
    Every distress call, beacon and flare she had put out had been ignored by the inhabitants of the world below. Her sensors told her that there were living sentient beings below, but they had no interest in speaking to her.
    The satellites blared a warning that the planet was interdicted by the Coalition, not for visitation. Safi didn't care, her engines were blown and the freighter that she was controlling was heading to the watery surface whether she wanted to or not.
    She hissed and sent a final message to whomever was listening. "This is Safi Morgan, captain of the Blue Dove. I have a full cargo hold for the people of Maskin and am out of control. My engines have failed and I am heading for the following coordinates. Please alert the Coalition as to my crash."
    She streamed the information of the projected crash site through the com unit and unbuckled her harness. No matter what she did now, she would still be nose deep in the ocean. Her only chance was to buy herself some time in an escape pod.
    Lurching through the falling ship was not easy, but her hands hauled her along using the guide rails until she reached the pod room. As quickly as she could, she scuttled into the pod, buckled herself in and hooked up her life support. The mask clamped tightly over her face and a trickle of air caressed her lips.
    She had time to take three deep breaths before her ship struck the ocean and came apart around her.
    The scream of metal tearing as it plunged into the deep would remain with her forever. The pod ejected automatically and Safi tasted blood as she was flapped about like a rag doll.
    When her pod stilled, the only sound she heard was her breathing for three full minutes until the sides of her escape vehicle started to collapse on her.
    Instead of floating to the surface like it should, it seemed that her pod was carrying her into the depths. She cursed the day she agreed to transport decorative plants to Maskin and let the black of unconsciousness take her.
    The next period of time was a welter of pain, endless pairs of dark eyes and a low dark voice murmuring for her to hold on.
    The moment that she sat up and gasped, her lungs protested. She was under water and there was no