Disquiet
Things were - strained - in the family's suite.
Kelapa had not returned, and it was tearing Mahrayne apart. Oh, she kept it suppressed, continuing with her duties as normal - well, maybe not quite as normal, she tired easily these days and had handed over most of her teaching to Ubi. But she made herself useful, keeping an eye on the babies while Leteetza slept, and telling stories to Zha'haarak and the older children: the hybrids were spending all of their time with Radittsu, Zha'haabron and Jeice. Mahrayne wondered why, but felt too heartsick to ask. And she'd lost Ti'aasaan as bedmate…
The day after war had been declared, Merica had asked for, and been granted, an interview with the king at the end of the latest Council meeting. He'd waited until the conference room was deserted, then dropped to one knee and come directly to the point.
"Sire, we'd like to put a proposition to you."
Zha'haabron gestured to him to be seated.
"Continue."
Leaning forwards, his elbows on his knees, Merica gazed up into enquiring golden eyes.
"Jagung says Ti'aasaan-sama is… suffering." The ex-teaser hadn't phrased it quite like that, of course. His exact words had been - "if we don't do something he's going to make himself really ill, and that's the last thing they need right now" - and from what Merica had seen of the little zn'hre, his bondmate was right. Ti'aasaan had lost a lot of weight and looked even paler than normal, his eyes shadowed, head bowed. It was affecting the children too, and while Merica wasn't that fond of brats his brief was to protect the family - and at the moment he wasn't performing his duty to the best of his ability.
Zha'haabron inclined his head minutely and waited for Merica to continue. The Guard lowered his head.
"We would… like to invite Ti'aasaan-sama to join us."
The king frowned - then reached a hand to Merica's face, fingertips under the Saiyan's chin pulling upwards gently but insistently.
"You do not want this."
Merica closed his eyes.
"Sire, I must be perfectly honest. I would very much rather things were different. But I've - resigned - myself to the fact that Ti'aasaan needs my bondmate. And…" he gritted his teeth, "… I know that Jagung is… enamoured of the little lizard."
Zha'haabron bit back a smile. Merica's honesty and openness was refreshing.
"And what of the future?"
The Guard gazed at the king, shoulders hunching slightly.
"We don't know, Sire. We just don't know…." He bit his lip and in a sudden, unwonted spill of candour added, "…we've never really thought about the future, even for ourselves…"
The king sighed silently. This whole situation was a mess, and all three of those involved could easily be badly hurt if things went awry.
Was he prepared to let the little one risk himself this way? Oh, not physically - neither of the two Saiyans would hurt him - but would being with Jagung and his partner help and heal, or simply make things worse?
Ti'aasaan would want it, he knew. The chance to be with the one he'd part-bonded with, to *know* Jagung… And it was astonishingly big-hearted of Merica, since he would also be *open* to the little zn'hre…
Was he aware of that?
No, he hadn't been, and he blanched when Zha'haabron explained it.
"Do you wish to retract the offer?"
The Saiyan closed his eyes, biting his lip, obviously frantically reassessing the situation, and no doubt *speaking* with his bondmate. Finally he sighed and raised his eyes.
"No. We don't wish to retract."
"Would you like more time to consider?"
The guard shook his head.
"No."
The king nodded.
"Very well. Since this is an entirely novel state of affairs, if there are any problems I must be permitted to intervene, should I be concerned that harm is being done - to any of you."
Merica slumped slightly, obviously relieved.
"Thank you, Sire."
"Now, there is something you must know, regarding zn'hre physiology…"
The Saiyan listened, memorising the details of Radittsu's shifting technique, thanking the king for the information. Zha'haabron nodded.
"When?"
The Saiyan smirked wryly.
"As soon as possible, your Majesty. Today, preferably."
Zha'haabron inclined his head.
"Will you speak to him?"
"Jagung will, as soon as I give him the signal."
"Then please, do so…"
Ti'aasaan was on the balcony, shivering despite his fur bodysuit: the weather was cooling rapidly in the run up to the Cold Season. Jagung watched him for a moment, his eyes shadowed, then moved to stand beside the slight figure. The little zn'hre's eyes were closed, his shoulders slumped; he jumped as the Saiyan laid a hand gently on his shoulder.
"Ti'aasaan-sama - we should talk. Will you come inside?"
Flustered and blushing, the zn'hre allowed Jagung to lead him into the common room. For once it was empty: the children were at their afternoon activities, Leteetza was spending time with the king, Zha'haarak was at Guard Headquarters sharing a meal with Hijau, and Mahrayne was with Zorun. Jagung ushered Ti'aasaan to the sleeping platform and sat beside him: the zn'hre eyed the Saiyan nervously. Jagung smiled and decided bluntness would serve best.
"Ti'aasaan-sama… Would it please you to join with me?"
The zn'hre blinked.
"Join…"
Jagung took the zn'hre's cold, limp hand.
"We have the High King's sanction, and Merica is… not unwilling… I know how you're hurting. I can feel it."
"But…"
Ti'aasaan fell silent, torn. Yes, he wanted more than anything to agree, to *sink* into Jagung's self… But he *knew* that Merica was less than happy with the situation. He sighed.
"Jagung-sama, there's nothing I want more right now. But if I do -" he swallowed "- we should consider it a permanent bond. Are you sure you want that?"
The ex-teaser stroked the zn'hre's face, smiling sadly.
"If I'd had the choice, I'd prefer it had never happened. However, it has - and I'm not unhappy."
Ti'aasaan frowned. Would that be enough?
It would have to be - he could feel the relentless *pull* towards the Guard as they spoke. And if things became intolerable, well, the Ssii'iin could break the bond. It would hurt. A lot. But he'd at least have satisfied this awful, constant, souldeep craving.
He nodded, and Jagung pulled him gently into strong slim arms.
"Do you need to take anything with you?"
The little zn'hre shook his head. He'd spend the next couple of days naked anyway, and the Guards' suite was only one floor down: anything he needed he could have brought down, and once the first desperate urge was satisfied he'd be coming back to the family's suite in any case, at least once a day, to see the hostlings and help out as needed. Jagung rose, pulling Ti'aasaan with him.
"Shall we go, then?"
Merica was in the suite when they arrived, tense, edgy, pacing nervously. He smiled and held his arms wide: Jagung hugged him tightly, then pulled Ti'aasaan between them, enfolding him in a strong double embrace. The little zn'hre was trembling.
Merica glanced at his bondmate.
*Let's not prolong the agony. You want me to go?*
*No. I think, later, he'll want you too - at least, that's what I *feel* from him.*
Merica blinked, and Jagung smirked dryly.
*We come as a pair, remember. His bond will be with me, but he'll be linked to you too - and want you to fuck him.*
The guard frowned.
*So soon?*
*I think it'll make things easier for him. For me, too.*
Merica sighed.
*All right. I'll go take a bath.*
Jagung kissed him.
*We'll join you in a little while.*
*Fine. Oh, just one thing…*
That was the beauty of mindspeak, thought Jagung to himself as his bondmate slid the bathing chamber door closed. He'd learned that all-important technique in something under two seconds…
Ti'aasaan was still trembling: Jagung held him close, kissing his hair.
"Come now, little one. It'll be all right."
The Saiyan gently peeled the bodysuit from the cool, small body, kissing the smooth skin as he grew aroused. The little zn'hre was truly lovely.
He pushed Ti'aasaan down onto the bed and covered him with a sleeping fur, then stripped and slid under the cover, snuggling close. The zn'hre was erect, too, and Jagung stroked him, smiling at his involuntary gasps - then rolling over and easing into the cool body, concentrating on giving his bondmate-to-be that special double climax that made sex both painless and easy for Saiyans. It didn't take long…
And as he came Ti'aasaan suddenly found himself *falling* into Jagung's mind, his self, learning his memories, the way he saw and felt and thought, knowing that the same thing was happening to the guard and relishing the new intimacy. He was peripherally aware of Merica, alone in the warm water trying very hard not to interfere or interrupt - not even to *listen* if he could help it.
As he slowly came back to himself, he realised Jagung was *speaking* to him. At some point the Saiyan must have rolled them over: Ti'aasaan was now lying on top of the guard.
*Ti'a-chan? You're all right?*
He sighed and stretched out along the lithe hot body below him. That terrible, ever-present ache had gone, replaced by a warm contentment - and a wider, deeper *awareness*, of himself, of Jagung and Merica, of the family. So much more made sense now…
**Hai, Ja-chan. Very much all right. Thank you**
The guard laughed quietly.
*Glad I could help. You certainly *feel* more at ease now.*
**Shall we ask Merica to join us?**
*Don't you want to make love in the pool?*
**It's not big enough**
*It's big enough for me and Merica…*
**But not big enough for you two and me**
Jagung frowned.
*You want us all to make love together?*
**Hai. I think you would enjoy it**
*I'm sure we would - but how do you want to do it?*
Ti'aasaan rested his elbows on the Saiyan's chest and grinned down into his face.
**With me in the middle**
Jagung's eyes widened.
*But… I thought that was dangerous for zn'hre…*
Ti'aasaan frowned, then smirked.
**Ah, I see what you mean… No, I'm suggesting I take you both normally. Where you are now** He wriggled, and Jagung groaned, still erect and deeply encased in cool flesh.
*Won't that hurt?*
**Zn'hre bodies are very - accommodating. You won't hurt me**
Merica came through from the bathroom, eyes wide and erection prominent: Ti'aasaan had included him in the latter part of the *conversation*. He slid under the sleeping fur and kissed the little zn'hre's shoulder.
*Well I'm all fucking for it!*
*You would be!* Jagung grinned. *You want to be behind Ti'a-chan? If that's all right with you.* he added hastily to the zn'hre.
Ti'aasaan nodded, slipping onto the bed from his position on top of his new bondmate and wriggling between the pair. Merica chuckled.
*You're sure?*
**I'm sure**
And he sighed, happily, as Merica slid into his chitsu from behind, Jagung from the front, the two Saiyans' arms wrapped around him and each other as they thrust powerfully, sliding against each other in the tight channel and climaxing together as Ti'aasaan also came, quivering and gasping between them.
Merica nipped at a pale blue shoulder, relief flooding from him, his fears that he'd lose his bondmate, even temporarily, now assuaged.
*That was fuckin' amazing! We going to do that again sometime?*
Ti'aasaan nestled in their arms and nodded.
**Oh, I think that could be arranged…**
Leteetza rubbed at her eyes, then at her back. With Ti'aasaan spending so much time with Jagung and Merica, she'd had to take over his share of caring for the brats, and with all the upheaval that was going on right now everyone was fractious. But this afternoon, after Tane and Dari had spent a couple of hours treating him, Zha'haarak had offered to keep the babies occupied while she had a break. Thanking the gentle zn'hre from the bottom of her heart, she'd made her way to the Library…
Meron had grabbed her as soon as she'd entered: the young Saiyan Thinker was agitated.
"Come and see what I've found. I was going through some ancient visual records…" She almost shoved Leteetza down onto a seat and pulled up a picture onto the monitor.
"Look!"
Leteetza frowned. It was a very old, faded image of a crowd scene, lots of people - not Saiyan-jin - in a street.
"What am I looking at?"
"This was taken from an ancient Tsufuru-jin newscast. We estimate from slightly over a thousand years ago."
"Fine. So what's so exciting about it?"
"Look closer."
Frowning, the King's Companion peered at the image - then caught her breath. There, to one side towards the back of the crowd, was a tall figure. With pale blue skin and a heavy fall of vibrant green hair.
"The Tsufuru-jin had dealings with the zhaneer!?"
"Looks like it, doesn't it."
"Ye gods… Do we have anything more from around this time? Anything at all?"
"Most of it was destroyed, but I'll get some others on it right away; we'll see what we can dig up." Meron frowned. "It might be best not to mention this to anyone yet, not until we've had a chance to find anything else."
Leteetza nodded. No point in raising hopes at this point.
She grinned to herself, though. Wouldn't it be wonderful if they could find records of dealings between the two worlds?
The days rolled on, and Hijau was of necessity spending most of his time at Elite Headquarters, helping to synchronize the Omanir conflict - while the offworld forces bore the brunt of the action the Elite Guard operated covertly on worlds suspected of being allies of (or even sympathetic to) the Omanir, and of course they fell under Hijau's command. Zha'haabron often joined him there: as Commander in Chief of the offworld R'ren'nkh'ia-jin military the king assisted in the coordination of attacks on the worlds who had declared their support of the Soutanate. Especially the moonless worlds…
Zha'haabron had agreed with Vejiita that it would be wise to subjugate the Budoushujin as early as possible: the people were psychotic psychopaths to whom no appeal for sanity or reason could have any effect. Except perhaps to enrage them. But the campaign on Budoushu was not going well.
Jagaimo was reporting to Hijau at the same time as commander Vi'haloken was onscreen to his Ssii'iin. The big, battle-scarred va'ha'da was scowling.
"They eat the dead. Their own as well as ours. And they just keep coming. It doesn't matter how many we kill, there are always more to take their place. They use ki as a bludgeon, they do not seem to feel pain, or to tire, they rip limbs off the dead and eat as they fight… My Ssii'iin, this is a terrible place."
"Casualties?"
The va'ha'da glanced to one side for a second.
"Of our initial ten thousand warriors, we have lost nearly three thousand shr'en'an and two thousand va'ha'da."
Zha'haabron stared, stunned.
"Half our forces?"
Vi'haloken nodded grimly.
"Yes Sire. The Saiyans aren't faring much better. And although deaths on the natives' side outstrip ours by about four to one, their forces seem inexhaustible. Ours aren't."
The king frowned, glancing at Hijau. The Captain looked harried as he caught the king's eye.
"We should fall back - but Nappa won't give the order. Not unless Vejiita commands him to."
"These deaths are accomplishing nothing."
"I agree. But I'm not in command here."
Zha'haabron turned back to Vi'haloken.
"Do your best to minimise our losses. Take out as many of the natives as you can - but prepare to fall back. I believe I may be able to summon - reinforcements."
Vi'haloken frowned, obviously about to query the king's words, but the whine of nearby ki blasts, and unintelligible shouting, dragged his attention back to his current - perilous - situation. He bowed his head briefly in salute.
"Understood Sire."
As the screen blanked, the zn'hre rose from his seat. Hijau frowned.
"Ssii'iin?"
"I will be back as quickly as I can, Captain."
At Zha'haabron's urgent call, the Saiya-jin-no-Ou had convened an emergency council session: everyone was there when the High King arrived, which, given that it was several hours after midnight and many of them would have been asleep, gave an indication of how worried they were about the state of affairs. The room hushed as Zha'haabron took his place beside the king but remained standing, leaning forwards, palms flat on the table, expression tense. Struggling to keep his voice level.
"The situation on Budoushu is untenable. I believe it is time for first use."
There was a muted muttering around the conference table. Vejiita scowled.
"The decision was to wait until we had no choice. We wish to keep the weapon classified for as long as possible."
Zha'haabron inclined his head and slotted a chip into the viewer.
"If I may direct your attention to this report…"
The council watched the recorded devastation of their troops in stony silence. At the end Limau turned to Vejiita, face grim.
"I believe the High King may be correct. At present the Budoushujin don't have access to spacecraft, but if that day should ever come… There is also the fact that they breed and mature extremely quickly." He glanced down at his personal screen. "Three hundred Vejiitasei days from being hatched to full grown warrior, if Leteetza-sama's information is correct."
"It is." Vejiita nodded curtly.
"Then I don't see we have any choice. We can't control them."
Pisang scowled.
"Would we fucking want to?! We'd never be able to trust them…"
Vejiita lowered his head, growling softly, then gazed at Zha'haabron, his eyes flinty in the bright light.
"Very well. I will need Radittsu and Merica. Have them report to me at first light."
Zha'haabron nodded reluctantly, heart sinking.
"You will, of course, do all in your power to ensure their safety."
Vejiita stared - then laid a strong hand on the High King's shoulder.
"You have my word."
Cool smooth skin against his own much warmer flesh, strong, sensitive fingers teasing his tail… he groaned almost silently and rolled over to face his beloved.
Eyes still closed, he frowned. Zha'haabron was fighting down a suffocating fear…
He opened his eyes - to see tears on his bondmate's face. Pulling the king close, he wrapped his warm, powerful body around Zha'haabron.
*What's wrong, zkai'da?*
The zn'hre held him close, burying his head in the Saiyan's neck, hands clutching spasmodically at the heavy mane. Worried, Radittsu snaked his tail around the lean waist and dragged a sleeping fur over the shivering body.
Zha'haabron *opened* to him… Moments later he sighed and pulled the king even closer.
*Beloved, we always knew it might come to this.*
**I know**
*It's the risk of a handful of lives against the lives of millions.*
**I know. I just would very much rather you were not one of that handful…**
His heart aching, Radittsu tucked Zha'haabron's head under his chin…
It may have been his bond with the zn'hre, it might simply have been fate, but soon after the mineral's qualities had been discovered a special squad of Elite Guard had been assembled, to be instructed in the power and employment of nitorine - and Radittsu had proved to be the finest proponent of its use. Already skilled in the precise manipulation of battle-ki (he'd silently thanked his old fondness for those games of Sawagi), he'd manipulated the crystals effortlessly. His natural abilities amplified several hundred-fold, he'd found he could as easily destroy a large asteroid as drill a tiny hole right through it…
The crystals were dangerous to use: it had taken considerable work - and the deaths of a number of third class warriors - before the Feeodoreean techs had found the optimum size and shape for the pretty mineral to be mounted into a brace worn on each hand, the crystal against the palm and touching the skin. Concentration was crucial: a moment's inattention and the amplified ki could loopback and kill the user. And that was without the fact that to use it to destroy a planet required the warriors to hold position above the atmosphere, exposed to the vacuum of space and with their hands, at least, uncovered… The techs had been overjoyed to find that the Elites selected were proficient in the use of ki-shields and therefore needed no protective suits, although there was some question over the length of time such an environment could support a living Saiyan. Radittsu had had a pilot take the fledgling squad up in a shuttle above the atmosphere, then led them out into space, ki-shielded but otherwise unprotected - and had them hold position for an hour…
It had been more than enough to reassure both the research team, and the Council, that the project was perfectly viable. With the Saiyan Elites to generate and direct the ki blasts, and an equal number of Feeodoreean geophysicists and monitors to tell them where and how hard to hit, the squad would be able to devastate a planet in something like half an hour.
Which did not leave a lot of room for error. And there was always the possibility that if the geophysicists got it wrong, a premature explosion would kill the squad along with the planet. As it was they'd only just have time to re-enter the small shuttles and retreat to a safe distance before the core burst apart - or collapsed in upon itself, depending on the nature of the world in question.
Nitorine was dangerous. The nitorine project was of course absolutely secret, known only to the Council, the Feeodoreeans specifically involved, the Elites in the squad, and Zha'haabron. And Radittsu was appointed head of operations in the field, should it ever become necessary.
Like now.
The big Saiyan stroked soothingly down his zkai'da's back.
* Nothing's going to happen. I'll take the squad, blow up the planet, and be back here before you've had a chance to miss me.*
Zha'haabron pulled back a little and cupped Radittsu's face in his hands.
**Zk'vissin… please don't speak so lightly of destruction…**
Radittsu bit his lip.
*I'm sorry. I didn't mean…*
Cursing himself, the king ran cool fingers down the beloved face.
**Zkai'da, I've seen what that species is like, and it would be kinder to the rest of the galaxy for them to be destroyed. Not fairer, certainly, but kinder…** Zha'haabron paused, haunted yet again by that old fear, that old helplessness. His zkai'da, going into danger, leaving him, leaving him behind… ** I don't want… I can't lose you**
Radittsu sighed and nestled the king even closer, remembering the extraordinary depths hidden beyond the beautiful exterior.
*You won't, beloved. Not now, not ever. I am yours, now and forever. And I will come back. I promise.*
Tear-filled golden eyes gazed into deep black - then Zha'haabron rested his head on a strong warm shoulder, one arm around Radittsu's shoulders, the other wrapped across his broad chest.
He should go too. He could protect his beloved…
But he'd agreed not to.
The argument had been brief, but excoriating. And in his sudden, overwhelming fear he'd lost control, accusing his bondmate of glory-seeking, cursing himself even as the words escaped his mouth. And Radittsu had stared at him, wounded, for a moment before growling and snarling that it had nothing to do with glory, that should the situation ever arise he'd be called into service to protect them. And - he'd added, eyes suddenly bleak - it might be the best and greatest thing he could ever do…
Zha'haabron had grabbed him close, berating himself, begging forgiveness even as (he later found out) his desperate embrace cracked several of his bondmate's ribs. And Radittsu had forgiven him, and used his remorse to make him promise never to knowingly place himself in danger. To care for his world. To care for their children. To find their home. To realise their dreams…
Zha'haabron always kept his promises.
But it was unbearable, knowing there was a chance, no matter how slim, that his zkai'da might not make it back.
© 2002 September 22nd Joules Taylor
