Hazel

This was stupid. Beyond stupid.

Flashing red lights illuminated the battle cruiser’s corridor like an all-too-real house of horrors. Hazel kept to the smaller corridors, ducking into doorways to avoid attention. The last thing she and Mia needed was to attract the attention of a curious warrior. She’d be back in her quarters, under lock and key, no doubt, and Mia would continue to worry.

The doors to the brig were sealed. “We go in, give him the gun, and we leave,” Hazel said. If the door opened.

Mia nodded.

The doors did open. Of course they did. No going back to her quarters meekly to wait out the battle. Her clearance must have included access to Seeran’s workplace.

The brig was empty of warriors. The wall of weapons was mostly depleted. A few bulky, heavy rocket-launcher looking things remained. Not good for hand-to-hand, a memory helpfully supplied.

“Cen!” Mia dashed across the room to the cell containing her husband.

Cen gave Hazel the same blank, accusing stare he gave her earlier, but his eyes softened when he focused on Mia. His arms were behind his back, bound. He contorted his shoulders and with a grunt, slipped free of the cuffs.

He held a hand up to the barrier but did not touch. Mia mimicked his gesture, their hands hovering less than inch on either side of an electric blue force field. “You should not be here, dearest one.”

“No one would tell me where you were. I had to see you.”

“It is not safe. Not now.”

Mia shook her head. “I had to do something. To give you this.” She held out the gun like a precious bauble.

Cen knitted his brows and looked at the device in confusion. “Who gave you this? You must return it before they discover you stole it.”

“I didn’t steal it,” Mia started.

“It’s mine,” Hazel said. “We’re going to give this to you and then we’ll go back to my quarters.” She turned to Mia. “Like we agreed.”

The control panel made no sense. The translator chip worked on written language but the actual commands made little sense. Vent waste. Magnetic clamps. Clamps? She needed to lower the barrier, not clamp or vent waste. Frustrated, she hit a random sequence of buttons. Tones sounded in discord, indicating an incorrect sequence. She tried again. More tones, but in harmony.

The barrier lowered.

Mia rushed to Cen, arms tight around each other. He breathed her in deep, his arms tightening just a bit more like a man who thought to never hold his wife again. Whatever Hazel thought about Cen, traitor or not, there was no doubt he cared for his wife. Loved. He loved his wife. 

An alarm sounded, angry and shrill. Whatever the flashing red lights meant, this was one level beyond.

“Take this,” Hazel said, shoving the little gun toward him.

He shook his head. “Keep it. I’ll requisition these.” He began to move the remaining weapons from the wall to a pile on the floor. He turned a table on its side to make a barricade. “You should return to your quarters now,” he commanded.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Mia said, her hands stubbornly on her hips.

“You swore!” Hazel shouted.

“It’s too late,” Mia said, her voice unreasonably calm. “Something bad has already happened and it’s better to stay together, right? And Cen has all the weapons.”

She was delusional. Her only friend was off her rocker. “There’s a safe room in my quarters,” Hazel said. “If we hurry, we can get there and lock ourselves in, safe and snug as a bug in a rug.” Her cajoling did not convince Mia.

“We do not have time for this,” Cen growled.  He shoved the women into the cell. With a slap, the barrier was erected.

“Wait! Cen, no!” Mia pounded a fist against the barrier. A sharp pop and a burst of light and she was tossed to the floor, cradling her hand to her chest.

“You will be safe here.” He gave Mia a look before turning away, hoisting the rifle to his shoulder. He aimed at the control panel and it exploded in a cloud of plastic and burnt wires.

Not good. So not good.

Cen kicked over a table. He crouched behind, aiming at the door.

The first Suhlik appeared, golden skinned and all teeth. A line of suppressing fire momentarily sent the Suhlik back. He ground out a threat in a low hiss, too low for her translator to pick up, and returned fire. Whatever he said, the meaning was clear.

“How’s your hand?” Hazel crouched down next to Mia, who still cradled the hand. She moved it slowly, revealing bright pink, burned flesh.

“It doesn’t hurt. Is it bad?”

Yet. It’d hurt like a rotten tooth in the morning. Or, you know, like a badly burned and blistering hand. “They’ll patch it right up in the med bay. They have this salve, it made my bruises disappear overnight. Amazing stuff.”

“I don’t want to look,” Mia said. She wrapped her arms around Hazel in a bear hug and buried her face. “Don’t tell me but tell me.”

Hazel rubbed Mia’s back absently. With every shot, Mia flinched. Every explosion made her jump, clinging tighter. The force field kept out smoke and the majority of sound. The cell must have its own ventilation system, or it was venting. Who knows what buttons Hazel pushed earlier. At least venting all the oxygen was a fast death and a better one than they’d have at the hands of the Suhlik.

She shuddered.

Cen landed a shot in the Suhlik soldier’s neck. The lizard man’s head snapped back but he was already dead. He fell to the floor, eyes vacant.

Cen kept shooting at a target just through the door, one that was invisible from Hazel’s vantage. He emptied the rifle of ammunition and tossed it to the side. The momentary gap in fire allowed two soldiers to enter the room.

Cen hoisted what looked very much like an old fashioned bazooka to his shoulder and fired. A percussive bang exploded and smoke filled the room.

Mia pawed at Hazel’s shoulder. She looked down. Her friend’s mouth moved but Hazel couldn’t distinguish any sounds beyond the ringing. It didn’t matter. She knew what Mia wanted. She wanted to know if Cen lived.

The smoke cleared. Cen stood, in a grapple with a Suhlik, but he stood. He swung the bazooka like a club, driving the heavy equipment into the Suhlik’s leg. Cen took the moment’s advantage of a wobble and dove for another weapon. Everything in the pile was large and a poor choice for close combat. Springing back, he added distance.

Suhlik filled the room, like water pouring in. The suppressing fire didn’t keep them at bay. They surrounded Cen.

Hazel looked away. She did not know how long until the Suhlik noticed the two women huddled together. She scooted back into a corner, dragging Mia with her. The cell was completely empty. No bed. No thin foam mattress. Nothing to hide behind or under.

This is how she ended, huddle on the floor, surrounded by Suhlik. It was inevitable, she supposed. That’s how her parent’s went. She never really left that moment of crisis, living her life while she waited for the lizard aliens to finish her. She should have listened to Seeran. She should have told Mia no.

She regretted not having more time to spend with Seeran and her heart ached longing for the years they wouldn’t get.

“Don’t look,” she said, her voice distant through a fog. “Don’t look.” 

Seeran

THE COMPUTER AUTOMATICALLY alerted Seeran to his mate’s location. When she foolishly moved from their quarters—safety—to the brig, he knew the cause. That other female. The traitor’s mate. She bleated or cried and pleaded until his mate’s gentle, soft heart relented to some foolish plan.

Now they would die.

Unless he could get to the brig.

Seeran raced from the hangar, abandoning his team. Merrek was more than capable of firing his gun in the correct direction. The rest of the team would follow.

The brig was as far from the vital functions of the Judgment as possible. One did not keep traitors and criminals near the bridge where their sabotage could take down the entire battle cruiser. As it was, he ran the length of the battle cruiser, cursing it’s impressive length and size. Only his vanity compelled him to serve in the largest Sangrin-Mahdfel clan. Once again his vanity brought trouble.

He barely noticed the alert of the Judgment being boarded. He knew where. The Suhlik took no prisoners and allowed no failures to survive, lest it infect the rest of their kind.

He barked orders and a team followed him.

He could save her.

If he were fast enough.

If fortune favored a fool.

If.

Hazel

A FIGURE EMERGED FROM the smoke.

Hazel didn’t want to look. Her body wanted to curl up on itself but she resisted. If this was the end, she’d at least look the lizard alien in the eye. They took her parents all those years ago, it was inevitable that they would come to finish her. She regretted that Seeran would blame himself. This was her poor choice, her hasty action meeting violent consequence. Her pain would be brief but he would continue to pay for her stupidity, and it was so stupid.

Smoke stung at her eyes. She blinked back tears.

She needed to tell him she loved him at least once more.

The figure came closer, a single horn rising above his profile.

“Seeran!” Her voice rasped, raw from the smoke.

He leapt over the fallen Cen and Suhlik, landing in a crouch outside the cell. Slowly his figure rolled upwards, growing taller and impossibly stronger and so, so scary. Blood and soot marred his face. The broken horn made him impossibly savage and his eyes were ice cold. No fire. No warmth. Only fury.

Hazel went cold. She knew that look. She’d seen it plenty from her ex. Her eyes fell to the floor, ashamed and knowing she deserved everything coming to her. She’d defied his orders. She’d put herself in danger. She’d freed a prisoner. She’d needed him to rescue her. The ship was in the middle of a battle and Seeran’s stupid human wife ran off to commit more acts of stupidity and here he was, at her feet, furious.

She embarrassed him in front of the clan because he couldn’t control his woman. She made him appear less of a man.

His hand slapped at the control panel. She flinched.

He approached. She could feel the heat rolling off of him but she wouldn’t look. Couldn’t look, not if she’d only see hatred—or worse, disappointment—in his blue eyes.  No, it was better to stand still, lip trembling, and wait for the first strike. He wasn’t cruel, not really. He’d get her punishment over with as soon as possible.

He stank of sweat and blood and gunpowder and smoke.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I shouldn't have. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry and I love you and please don't be mad. Please. Just yell at me. Do something. Please.”

Why was he taking so long? Just do it already.

Hazel lifted her eyes. 

Seeran sank to his knees.

His arms wrapped around her, the armor oddly flexible and hard all at once, and he pressed the side of his face to her stomach.

“I’m sorry I could not get here faster. I thought I lost you, sweet one.”

Her knees gave out. A nervous giggle bubbled up. She clamped both hands over her mouth but she couldn’t fight the laugh. This was inappropriate. They were surrounded by bodies. Mia’s husband was likely dead and Hazel couldn’t stop laughing.

She worked her hand into his short hair, reassuring herself that he was real, that this was real. She hadn’t been shot after all and wasn’t hallucinating in the last moments of her life. “Is this real?”

“Are you well?”

Was she? Hazel nodded dumbly but Seeran was not satisfied. He spun her in a circle, inspecting her.

“We are going to medical.”

“I’m fine, I’m just so happy you’re here.”

Seeran rose to his full height. A hand on either shoulder kept her in place when she felt like she’d topple over. Maybe medical wasn’t such a bad idea. She’d breathed in a lot of smoke, it made her light headed.

His eyes softened, just for a moment. “Do not do this again, mate.” He leaned in and said softly, just for her, “My heart cannot take it.”