Hazel

Hazel leaned against the metal railing, letting the winter sun warm her skin. The lunch rush was over and now she only had a table lingering over coffee. With the sound of the ocean and the salt in the air, working at the beach front bar and grill was almost a vacation. Almost. If she forgot her aching back and swollen feet and the ridiculous costume she had to wear. Oh, and the outer space themed decor. Yeah. And this close to the space center meant aliens and aliens meant the Mahdfel.

The Mahdfel burger was a gigantic tower of three beef patties served on a purple bun. The Rocket Dog was just a regular corndog but kids loved it. The Suhlik Invader was an enormous BBQ chicken topped pizza. All the layers of chicken and cheese combined to twelves pounds of greasy, heart stopping goodness. If a customer could eat the entire thing in an hour, their meal was on the house and their picture went on the wall.  Drunk beach goers loved it but no one ever finished it. The rest of the menu had cleverly named items such as alien ears (empanadas) and supernova sundaes (just a regular sundae). Yeah, it was that kind of place.

The Galactic Network played constantly in the background and the bar served up Martian Martinis and a Sweet Nebula, which didn’t have alcohol but was a glass of ginger ale poured over cotton candy. The candy melted and attached to the carbonation, turning the bubbles pink or blue, depending on the color of the cotton candy. She actually liked that one, despite being sweet enough to hurt her teeth.

To add to the level of class, staff wore Hawaiian shirts with the tasteful and loud print of little green aliens with hearts proclaiming “I love aliens!” Waitresses wore a swimsuit with a sarong tied at the waist. Hazel originally wore a one piece but realized she got better tips with a bikini top, which is why at that moment she wore a white bikini top and her “I love Aliens!” sarong, looking out over the beach, hoping to spy her alien.

He ran along the sand every day, passing by the beach front restaurant. The times varied, sometimes early morning, sometimes in the afternoon, but every lady in the restaurant stopped what they were doing and gathered at the terrace just to watch him run by.

Tall and wine color that was almost a dark magenta, the Mahdfel male was the pinnacle of muscle and motion. Toned without an ounce of fat, every part of him moved with efficiency.  His dark hair was cropped short and a pair of thick horns curled back from his brow.

They literally did not make ‘em like him on Earth.

Sometimes he wore a tank top and jogging pants. Sometimes it was just the pants. It didn’t matter. Hazel watched him run by daily, hoping he’d stop in for... Well, not for a basket of Galactic Chicken Strips but maybe a glass of water? Even aliens had to drink.

He never stopped. He never so much as looked in her—or the restaurant's—direction. 

Hazel shifted her weight, taking some pressure off her aching feet.  Next paycheck, she decided, she'd invest in a decent pair of shoes, something better than the thin soled atrocities she wore now. As it was, she soaked her tootsies in a cool salt water bath every night to keeping the swelling down.

Waitressing wasn't a bad gig, besides the foot pain and even that was more a consequence of cheap shoes than actually being on her feet all day. She talked to people all day, a healthy mix of tourists and regulars. Being new in town, she didn't know anyone outside of the diner and she was thirsty for conversation. Of course, she could talk the ears off a wall if given the chance. That's what Scott always said, usually right before he told her to shut the hell up.

Hazel frowned. She wasn't going to think about her ex-husband. She wasn't going to let him ruin her day off at the beach.

Three months ago with the ink barely dry on the divorce papers, she packed up her car and left everyone and everything behind. With no particular destination in mind, she drove south. Eventually she landed on Florida's space coast. Even a decade and a half after the Suhlik Invasion, huge swaths of the country were still being rebuilt. The space coast remained largely intact due to its military importance. The buildings were at once old and the cutting edge of high tech. There was the ocean, the beach, the military, and, of course, the Mahdfel. The Mahdfel were mainly located at the moon base and another base near Jupiter but a few stayed planetside.

The aliens fascinated her. Their appearance varied wildly. Unable to have daughters, they made protection alliances with many planets. Each generation looked like their mothers and, as a result, their appearance as a species was diverse. During the last few months,  Hazel had seen green skinned aliens that could change their skin tone as natural camouflage, green aliens with tails, purple aliens with curled horns like a demon and purple without horns, and large aliens with shaggy white fur like the abominable snowman. Not to mention the soap operas.

The Galactic Network provided interstellar entertainment to all the Mahdfel worlds and it was free. The station played constantly at the diner. The owner's daughter was matched a few years ago. At the start, she said, it was about getting to know the aliens and making them less scary. Now it was about the stories. Endless Hope and Suffering was Hazel's favorite. Everything had subtitles and the actors were the purple horned variety but the story was at its heart a soap opera set at a medical facility on a moon. Much like a human soap opera, there were forbidden love affairs and schemes and the story advanced painfully slow. Unlike the average human soap opera, there was a lot more armed conflict. The alien dialogue played in the background of the lunch crowd but Hazel was able to follow the story well enough. It fascinated her.

Hazel had only been ten when the Suhlik invaded Earth. She was too young to remember the details but she remembered the panic. She had vivid memories of huddling in the community bomb shelters, of the blast that turned her and her sister, Rosemary, into orphans. She remembered the refugee camp which started out filled with families and eventually was only filled with orphans.

She supposed it was inevitable that the aliens drew her in. The alien warriors saved Earth all those years ago and the bargain they made changed Earth. In exchange for their aid and protection, all fertile, childless, single and otherwise healthy women were to submit for genetic testing. Those found to be 98.5% compatible, had to marry their Mahdfel match. Some women clamored to be tested and matched. Some dreaded it and only submitted to the legally required test of once a year on their birthdays. Some did anything to avoid "the Draft" as it was called, like having a baby, which Rosemary did. Or even getting married young, which Hazel did.

In retrospect, nineteen was too young to make a major life choice and certainly too young to marry, but Scott could be charming when he wanted and he charmed her thoroughly. His family had money and he was classically handsome, just like a movie star. When he smiled, it was like the sun rising. For a brief moment, she was the center of his attention and, thus, the center of the universe, and it was an addicting feeling to be so wanted. Or wanted at all.

It started off good with Scott. He made her feel special and cherished. She changed her hair, her clothes to please him. She took pains to learn about his interests and hobbies. She spent more time with him and didn’t notice when her own friends slipped away. He didn’t want her to work, so she stayed with him. She barely noticed her increasing isolation. She only went out with Scott, even just running errands and doing the shopping.

Then the criticisms began. He didn’t like her cooking or she didn’t keep the house clean enough and he worked all day so was it too much to ask for a hot meal waiting for him and a house that smelled nice, not like dirty socks? So she worked harder but nothing made him happy. He’d yell and she’d cry. He’d apologize and they were back to the good spot again, like at the beginning when he made her feel special and cherished.

It’d start again, the biting comments and the criticism. Sometimes he’d accidentally bump into her, knocking her into furniture. It was fine, she reasoned, because the house was small and she should know to stay out of his way.

Hazel had been so focused on keeping Scott happy that she neglected herself. One night, he “bumped” into her and she fell off the porch steps, dislocating her shoulder.

Sitting in the emergency room, she felt all the pitying eyes on her. Everyone knew what her husband had done. Everyone could see how he ground her down until she was right under his heel.

That was the night it ended. She left in a taxi to her sister’s house. Despite not having spoken in six months, Rosemary let Hazel in without hesitation. She stayed with Rosemary and her son, Michael, while she searched for her first job in years and rented her very first apartment. Everything—rent, utilities—required a deposit, so she worked double shifts and saved every penny.

Scott didn’t make it easy. He showed up at the diners and cafes where she worked. He’d beg her to forgive him, to give him a second chance, but she wasn’t going to fall for that old song and dance again.

The day the divorce was finalized, Hazel hit the road. She needed a fresh start, somewhere far away where Scott Schwarztrauber couldn’t find her.

“Any sightings of our purple man?” Polly asked, joining her on the terrace. She snapped bubble gum absently. She wore a silver alien antenna headband, the kind with two ping pong balls painted silver on two springs. It bobbed hypnotically as she snapped her gum.

“Not yet,” Hazel said. He was more magenta than purple, she wanted to add but kept her mouth shut.

“Shame. I’m hungry for my alien man meat.”

Hazel’s lips tugged up in a smirk.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t enjoy the show,” Polly said. “I know you got your ice princess routine going on but you don’t fool me.”

“Ice princess?”

“Yeah. You don’t flirt with the customers—and we both know that’s how you get a good tip—and you act like ice wouldn’t melt in your mouth.”

“Maybe you’d get better tips if you got their orders right,” Hazel suggested.

“Is that so? Strange how the Waitress of the Year has to have her tits out if she’s so great.”

Hazel laughed.Tips were better when she wore the bikini top. Polly herself wore a tube top with her alien print sarong.

“That didn’t even bother you a little, did it?”

“I’ve had worse said to me,” Hazel admitted. Polly had a bet going on with one of the cooks in the back that she could ruffle Hazel’s feathers. She tried insults, embarrassing her, even slapping her on the behind, but it just made Hazel laugh. It was hard to get upset with Polly when she wore that silly antennae headband. The bouncing silver orbs softened every foul and rude thing out of her mouth. 

“Hazel! There you are!”

The familiar voice sent ice water through her veins.

No.

How had he found her?

Scott came onto the terrace from the beach side, blonde hair gleaming in the sun and as photogenic as ever. He had his glamor smile on, the one he used to charm others but his eyes were empty. 

He scanned her from head to foot, taking in the tan, the bikini and the alien print sarong. The charming smile faltered. “Cover yourself up, woman. Don’t you have any decency?”

For a moment, the smallest moment, she felt shame at his words, shame of her body and shame for displaying it.

“You can’t be here,” she said, fighting back that ugly feeling.  “I have a restraining order.”

“Who’s this?” Polly propped one hand on her hip.

“I’m Hazel’s husband,” Scott said. He turned the charm back on and aimed the smile at Polly. To her credit, the woman didn’t seem impressed.

“My ex-husband,” Hazel said.

“That jerk who?” Polly asked and Hazel nodded.

Scott wasn’t smiling anymore. “I’ve come to take you home.”

Seeran

SEERAN TOOK TO RUNNING on the beach. The uneven surface with variable wet and dry texture proved an interesting challenge and worked the muscles in his lower legs in a way hard surface running did not. He ran at dawn just as the Terran sun rose over the ocean’s edge, turning the water into liquid gold. He ran at noon with the dual punishment of the hot sun beating down and reflecting off the water. He ran at dusk, as shadows spread and obfuscated any obstacles in the sand.

It’s not like he had anything better to do. Seeran was stuck on Earth until Vox and his mate finished their business. Vox protested and claimed he could protect his mate without Seeran’s assistance but Seeran had a direct order from the warlord to safeguard the pilot’s female until she returned to the Judgment. So he remained on Earth, bored. Vox seemed happy enough to gobble down Terran food and watch unending entertainment programs. Pilots, it seemed, were familiar with long periods of idle waiting before a sudden scramble to action.

Seeran, however, was not used to being idle. The inactivity got under his skin, to borrow the Terran phrase, and itched, demanding release. There were only so many times he could patrol the perimeter, observing the same Terrans walking their odd four-legged companion animals at the same times every day, before he went stir-crazy.

Cabin fever, Carrie called it.

So he ran. Fast. Hard. As often as possible until the excess energy left his body.

Seeran never cared much for Earth. He came with the first wave of Mahdfel to fight the Suhlik more than a decade ago. The blue and green planet failed to impress him, as did the soft skinned inhabitants.

He understood instantly why they attracted the Suhlik. Their media broadcasted incessantly, a constant deluge of images and sound traveling away from the planet through the void of space. Terrans effectively hung an “all-you-can-eat” sign on their doorstep. Their technology was not on par with the Suhlik. They had no natural defenses. Everything about this planet and the inhabitants was a security risk. Of course the Suhlik came.

The Terrans fought back against the Suhlik and it was a bloodbath. Their fragile exterior did not match their spirit and there was nothing the Suhlik prized more than a spirited slave. Of course the Suhlik came to Earth. Earth held everything they desired.

Seeran did not mind the Terrans. They were soft, yes, their customs odd and they were insufferably friendly, at the least the ones he met. They wanted to talk and chat, always flapping their mouths, pleased at the sound of their own voice but, ultimately, saying nothing. All that, he could tolerate; the planet itself, irritated him.

Earth took and gave very little.

The sun was too bright. The weather too extreme. The oxygen levels were too low, disregarding the pollutants in the air. Its single moon hardly provided protection from asteroids. The surface was mostly water, which made every place uncomfortably humid. And disease... Disease spread through the Terran population like wildfire, which was hardly a surprise given the humid, poor quality of the air. It was amazing anyone could breathe on this planet at all.

No, Earth was not for him.  All he could do was wait for the end of his mission, as tedious as waiting was.

On the beach there were no sights and sounds, no new targets to evaluate and assign a threat level.

The sun was high overhead, creating a pleasant warmth on his bare skin. Terrans claimed small parcels of the beach and lounged on their respective flags. So strange. Their territorial claim was temporary and they would release their beachfront domains when the sun set in the west. Every day, he observed this behavior but could not make sense of it. Each new day brought new territorial claims, erasing the previous day like so much shifting sand. At least the Terrans made for interesting obstacles and the younger ones tried to run with him. Seeran would slow his pace, to let their short legs keep the pace. Running slower on the sand required more effort, so he did not mind.

Over the sea air, the salt, and the chemical odor of sunscreen, an aroma caught Seeran’s attention. It was hard to describe, like the flowers that bloomed at night in his mother’s garden but also green and warm, distinctly Terran, and, more importantly, his.

His mate.

His route took him toward the heady aroma, toward a cluster of Terrans lounging on their territorial flags, soaking in the sun’s radiation. There were several females in the crowd, all wearing bathing costumes that covered little and exposed much. His eyes scanned over them, none of them seemed particularly interesting.

One female stood out. On a terrace, separate from the beach crowd. She argued with a male, who plucked at the fabric wrapped around her waist. Her face flushed red, not from sun exposure but from upset. The male loomed over her, trying to cow her with physical intimidation.

“I ain’t leaving until you cover up. Look at you, all your flaws on display. You’re disgusting and I can’t let you walk around like a whore, Hazel. I won’t let people talk about my woman that way.”

“This is my job! This is my uniform and I don’t need your permission for anything.” She twisted away, the fabric slipping down her legs.

It was wrong to admire the length of her exposed legs, the curve of her hips or the way her waist nipped in just enough to tell Seeran that it was the perfect shape for his resting hand. Now was not the time for admiration of the female’s form.

“Don’t you walk away from me,” the male said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward him. His fingers dug into her flesh, leaving white imprints. She twisted in his grip and yelped in pain. The male was hurting this female.

Seeran’s female.

Hazel.

In a heartbeat, Seeran was between the male and his female. He grabbed the male’s arm and twisted just so, forcing him to release the female. He growled out a warning for the male to back away before Seeran had to hurt him, but without a translation chip implant the male remained unable to understand his words.

“What do you think you’re doing, you purple idiot?” the male asked, surprise on his face.

Seeran snorted. He was magenta, not purple. This male was blind as well as foolish. “It is unlawful to detain a person against their will,” he said in his native tongue.

Both the male and female looked at him blankly. “Listen, I appreciate all you people did in the war and all, but this is between me and my wife,” the male said.

His wife. Hazel already had a mate. Seeran’s heart sank.

Earth had given and taken away his mate once again.