Ruin
Kobis woke with a start, and turned towards his aijin. 'haabron was shivering, whimpering in his sleep, and the young Saiyan pulled him close, wrapping his cold body in warm arms and pulling another sleeping fur over them both.
*What is it, koi?*
**Papa's hurting…**
Kobis kissed away the tears on the beautiful little face trembling against his shoulder, and sighed. He knew Zha'haabron was hurting. They all knew it.
Hijau watched helplessly as the High King sat, motionless except for the minute tremors rippling through his body, the edge of the desk splintered where he'd gripped it hard. On the imager before them both was a real-time hologram of Budoushu, sent back to Vejiitasei by the destroyer waiting - at a safe distance - to bring the scoutships home again. And not content with being in constant *touch* with his bondmate, Zha'haabron had also insisted on an open channel to all the communications taking place onworld…
Merica was the last of the Guard to join the special squad. Hijau had passed his and Jagung's records to Radittsu after the pair had asked to leave the offworld military, and the big male had arranged to see them both, ostensibly to assess their abilities, in reality to see if they were sufficiently skilled to be recruited. He'd almost referred them both to Vejiita - Jagung's ki-manipulation was much more sensitive than his partner's, one of the finest he'd encountered - but in the final analysis had chosen only Merica. He was by far the better warrior, more single-minded and with a tougher attitude, necessary in the sort of situation that required the use of nitorine. (Absolute concentration was also essential, of course, something Radittsu knew they'd find difficult if they were both there, since they'd worry too much about each other.)
Merica had been seconded to the squad after FullMoon, like the rest of them training in secret, but he'd had less time to learn than the others. Radittsu had taken him in hand during the trip for some last minute instruction. He hoped it would be enough…
Each Saiyan in the squad had been allocated a partner, a Feeodoreean tech, who would remain in the scoutship, monitoring 'their' warrior - and the planet - constantly. Sensitive instruments charted tectonic movement, weak places in the planet's crust, the best places to strike to rupture the mantle and shatter the planet: the techs would then direct the Saiyans, while holding position close to the outer edge of the atmosphere, ready to pull out once their warriors were back onboard the scoutships.
In theory it sounded great, and the computer simulations were extremely promising. In reality, of course, there were a huge number of variables that could cause disaster, from instrument malfunction (unlikely given Feeodoreean and Yorrin technology) to the Saiyan ignoring orders in the thrill of battle…
Budoushu looked serene from orbit, the vast arcs of swathing ki-blasts no more than faint sparkles from above. But they were all aware of the sheer destruction taking place below.
Radittsu assembled the eighteen-strong team in the echoing scoutship bay, along with their Feeodoreean partners. All wore full bodysuits and boots - no point in armour on this mission - and all had small communication modules: an earpiece providing almost perfect audio reception, a slender radio mike close to the mouth: a tiny camera was mounted on the Saiyans' modules, and, in the case of the techs, a small visual receiver that allowed them to see what their Saiyan partners were seeing. Radittsu's module was slightly different: he'd be able to hear and speak to each of his squad members, while they'd be able to hear everyone, but only speak to him and their Feeodoreean tech. He smiled grimly.
"I don't need to tell any of you what we have to do. Just remember, your Feed partner is there to keep your hide intact. You will listen and obey, or you will answer to me. If there's anything of you left to answer, that is. Onworld, we will provide covering fire while what's left of the troops retreat: use minimal force - we don't want the planet to blow until we're ready. Stay in touch with each other, with me, and with your Feed. Luckily the fighting's confined to three main areas and a couple of outlying positions." He touched a control on the imager: a large hologram of the planet appeared, and he indicated an area to the north. As he pointed the image enlarged to reveal a detailed three dimensional plan of the area.
"Ringo, Ninjin, Aguretsu, I want you here. There's a small force of our own warriors facing a much greater number of Budoushujin. Escort them to their troop carrier." He pointed to a more central region. "This is where the bulk of the military are holed up. It's mostly rocky, mountainous terrain: I want Merica, Sasa and Nyiur with me. Mame, Sayaingen, Zenchefil, Ichigo, you'll take this area," he pointed to the west of the central area, then indicated another position, slightly further south: "Retasu, Himeringo, Fasulye, Lahana, strike here. The rest of you I want to spread out along this mountain ridge. All clear?"
There was a general murmur of assent. Radittsu nodded.
"Kill anything and everything that isn't Saiyan or R'ren'nkh'ian. Use only as much force as necessary - remember the nitorine will amplify your own ki. Save enough to destroy the planet once our own are offworld. And," he glared, "I want no heroics. We're here to get our own military offworld, then blow the fucking place. Once you've cleared your designated areas you make your way here." A large plain, far removed from any of the areas of combat, glowed on the image. "As soon as we've regrouped, we move to our assigned positions -" he glanced at the intently-listening Feeodoreeans, who nodded "then at my signal take off straight up. Once we're above the atmosphere we follow the Feed's orders. Then we move. Back to the scoutships. No arguments. Anyone gets left behind, you're on your own. No-one goes back. Understood?"
A chorus of sombre "Yes sir"s had him smirking wryly.
"Very well. Into your scoutships. You want to ask anything, do it while we're en route to the planet. We're unlikely to have time to chat once we're there…"
The stench of blood and burned flesh, the whimpers of the hurt and dying and the high-pitched whine of ki blasts, the dust that stung the eyes and clogged the lungs… Sasa swallowed convulsively, fighting back nausea as she followed her commander into the air again, hands outstretched, focusing intently as she slashed ki-beams over and through the hulking, heavily armoured creatures that just kept coming…
"Move away from me…. Flank attack…"
Sasa and Merica moved out from Radittsu, never ceasing their calmly relentless assault on the Budoushujin, disregarding everything except the piles of steaming, stinking corpses they were creating as the Alliance troops retreated to the transports, carrying their wounded with them.
"Sasa, widen your beam. Concentrate your blast a quarter turn outwards." Her eyes narrowed at the sound of Radittsu's voice in her earpiece, and she obeyed without thinking, grimacing at the sight of enemy reinforcements moving in. Thank all the gods Budoushujin couldn't fly…
"My group, separate. Merica, move back and up, blast from above. Nyiur, circle around behind them." Radittsu winced, the sound of Ringo's death scream echoing from his earpiece, then forced himself to focus. "Stay alert, Guardsmen. It's going to take all of us to destroy the planet…"
Two hours later, streaked with sweat and dust and blood, Sasa just wanted to fall into bed and never wake up. Her head throbbed with the strain of concentrating so intently for so long; she could feel her arms trembling, hands aching…
"Sasa, make your way to the designated area."
She blinked. The Budoushujin were still advancing… weren't they?
"Sir?"
He spared her a quick glance.
"You need to keep something in reserve. We need you when we take out the planet. You'll be no use if you're exhausted."
She scowled, angry and humiliated.
"But, sir…"
"Don't argue, dammit! The transport's about to take off: we're nearly done here."
She glanced around swiftly, startled to see only dead Alliance warriors on the ground amongst the piles of Budoushujin. She also realised that Nyiur was missing - hopefully already en route for their meetup point…
And there were very few natives still moving. Between them they'd done a pretty good job of wiping them out. She sketched a brief salute and gratefully headed off.
Merica grinned at Radittsu. He was exhausted, himself, but the adrenaline whipping through his body would keep him going until the mission was finished. The commander, he knew, was grimly drawing energy from thoughts of the family - and what could happen to them if any of the Budoushujin escaped and came seeking vengeance. By far the greater quantity of the corpses on the ground were Radittsu's personal kills…
*MOVE!!!*
Merica flung himself sideways in the air at Radittsu's *shout*, narrowly missing being killed as a Budoushin blast ripped across his back and sent him plummeting to the ground, landing relatively softly on a dismembered native corpse. Shaking his head to clear it, he looked up - into a leering yellow face, its gaping mouth equipped with fangs as long as his hand.
Something large flickered between him and the Budoushin: a microsecond later he found himself airborne again as Radittsu threw him skywards. Pulling himself rapidly to a halt, the throbbing pain from the raw wound across his back disregarded, he glanced down - then frantically dived for the big Saiyan as the Budoushin's massive tail knocked Radittsu to the ground. The creature fell heavily on top of the commander - then took a bite from his hip as huge claws gouged down his back.
Merica flinched, *feeling* with Radittsu as pain exploded through him - then growled, focused, and blew off the Budoushin's head, sweeping down to grab the limp, bleeding body of his commander...
Hijau twisted sharply to face Zha'haabron at the High King's quiet whimper. The beautiful golden eyes were closed, tears tracking down the pale drawn face, body tensed until every sinew stood out in sharp relief. The Captain knelt beside the zn'hre's chair, keeping his voice low.
"My Ssii'iin…?"
"He's hurt, Hi'ijaa. He's been hurt…"
For a second Hijau stared at the zn'hre, horror-struck - then rose and leaned over the console, overriding the communication channel.
"Rad-chan?"
Nothing but the crackle of static. Hijau forced down his fear and tried again.
"'dittsu? Speak to me, aijin…"
There was no reply.
The family's suite was hot: the Cold Season was just days away and the zn'hre were already suffering, and not just physically: Jeice was finding it difficult to cope with the emotional turmoil in the suite, and had taken to spending a lot of time at the beach - accompanied (to his disgust) by at least four guards. Jagung and Ti'aasaan had moved back into the suite while Merica was away: it was comforting to be with the family, although Jagung couldn't get used to sleeping on the platform - it felt vaguely… disloyal. He rubbed at his face, eyes shadowed, wincing at his bondmate's pain - then gasped and pulled Ti'aasaan to him. The little zn'hre stared up at him, eyes huge, trembling…
**Merica?**
*No…he's hurt, but not too badly…*
Ti'aasaan swallowed hard.
**Rhoi'i'dat'hzziu?**
Jagung nodded slightly, eyes brimming as fear and misery ripped through his little bondmate. Folding the zn'hre into a tight embrace, he glanced across the common room at Leteetza, sitting cross-legged and feeding small scraps of meat to 'jiita and 'dittsu, helped (or rather, hindered) by Ra'vahn and Za'rayne. She looked tired and tense - they all did - but not distressed. Obviously she hadn't bonded with Radittsu, which was probably a very good thing… Jagung reached *privately* for his Saiyan bondmate.
*Aijin? How is he?*
Merica's *voice* was distinctly harassed.
*Can't tell. Trying to get away from these fuckin' cannibals: not got time to check him. It's bad, though. Look, I need to concentrate. I'll get back when I can, right?*
Not wanting to endanger his bondmate with distractions, Jagung *silenced*. For now, he'd have to be content with that.
Very aware of Radittsu's life bleeding from him, Merica flew as fast as he could away from the battlefield, finally judging it safe to land for a moment on a rocky bluff. Lowering the big male to the ground and shoving the heavy mane to one side he quickly assessed the injuries.
It was bad. The gouges down the commander's back were bone deep and had shredded his flesh: skin and muscle - and quite possibly portions of internal organs, everything was such a mess Merica wouldn't have been able to ascertain the damage even if he'd had any medical training - had been sheared away from his body by those hideous fangs. And he'd lost so much blood.
He was still - just - alive. But not for long, unless Merica could do something to stop the bleeding.
He frowned. He needed something to plug the wounds: they were too extensive to cauterise with ki…
Ki. A close ki-shield would stop the bleeding, and prevent infection. Keep the commander alive until they could get to a medic.
Could it work?
He grimaced. If it didn't, Radittsu was dead. Grimly, he focussed his own ki into a taut mantle over the big body…
Vejiita scowled.
"Numbers?"
Limau rubbed at the back of his neck wearily and checked his screen.
"We've been lucky so far, Sire. Most of the fighting has taken place on mooned worlds: Urumek is now ours, as is Skavarada, and it's only a matter of time before Plevel falls. And with each victory we move closer to Omani."
The king grunted irritably.
"I said, numbers…"
Limau closed his eyes.
"Roughly, eleven thousand of our own warriors - the majority of them on Budoushu - eight thousand R'ren'nkh'ia-jin, four thousand Korijin, and a couple of thousand assorted allied forces. The enemy's losses are at least three times that, partly due to their employment of mercenaries. Their forces are disorganised and fragmented. We've been using that to our own advantage."
Vejiita nodded.
"How long until we can attack Omani. Roughly."
Limau licked his lips nervously.
"Sire, this will be a very rough estimate…"
"Understood."
"We believe we should be able to gain access to the planet in about thirty days."
Vejiita growled.
"Too long."
"Sire…"
"That gives them time enough to work out what we're doing and kill off the hash'shavven. If they haven't already done so."
"We think not, Sire. Jeice is certain he'd know if something like that were to happen."
"Good. I will speak with Nappa after this meeting, try to speed things up a little. What's the situation on Budoushu?"
"Our troops have now left, Sire. We're just waiting for confirmation of its destruction."
Vejiita nodded. It would be good to have that troublesome world gone…
It was difficult, holding the ki-mantle in place and trying to fly both himself and the deadweight that was the unconscious Radittsu to the meetup place, and Merica was trembling with exhaustion by the time he saw the others. Sasa's eyes widened.
"What happened?"
Merica landed heavily and lowered the commander to the sandy ground as gently as he could, then collapsed to sit beside him, panting.
"Kusoyaro ignored his own orders and played hero. Saved my arse, though, so I can't really complain…"
Sasa and Mame knelt to inspect the damage, wincing as they took in the full extent of the wounds. Merica grimaced.
"Got to get him back to the ship as fast as we can - he's no use here."
"How're we supposed to blow the planet without him?"
Merica bit his lip. Zenchefil had a point, Radittsu was the only one of them sufficiently precise, at this point in time, to fire up the planet's core at the last moment… He stroked the pale, cool forehead.
"Sir, can you hear me?"
No answer. He glanced at Sasa as he removed the big male's comms module.
"Can you try? I really need to contact the Captain." And Zha'haabron, he added to himself. He's going to be absolutely fucking out of his mind with worry by now…
Hijau eyed the High King worriedly. Zha'haabron was - blurring, as though starting to transform, but then pulling back into his more usual shape. And he had paled almost to white, knuckles bloodless as he gripped the arms of the chair. The captain could swear he hadn't taken a breath since he'd first felt his bondmate's pain.
"'dittsu - if you can hear me, say something!"
For long, tense minutes there was no reply, then,
"Captain?"
Hijau jumped - it was Merica's voice.
"Report, Guardsman."
"He's been badly injured, sir, but he's alive."
Hijau gripped Zha'haabron's forearm, reassuringly, as the High King slumped forwards limply - then knelt and pulled the zn'hre into a comforting embrace as he slid from the chair to his knees, silent tears spilling down his face. Hijau pulled him back up into the seat, still holding him, and grabbed for the mike.
"Status?"
"We're trying to bring him round. He should go straight back to the ship, but we need him here. Could Zha'haabron help?"
Hijau glanced down at the king. The zn'hre was trembling: he drew a deep breath and nodded.
"I will try…"
… something warm… something golden… a warm golden *presence* in his mind… Zha'haabron…
He groaned, and forced open an eye. Merica was staring down at him, pale, bloody and worried.
*What…?*
**Zkai'da?** The beloved voice was faint, distant, almost panicky. Radittsu tried to push himself up, to find his bondmate, rescue him from whatever it was that was frightening him…
He screamed hoarsely as agony blinded him, and collapsed back down onto the dusty ground. Merica gently gripped his shoulder.
"Sir? Don't move. You've been hurt…"
Disorientated and flooded with pain, Radittsu *reached* for that golden *presence* again. Zha'haabron wept, *wrapping* him in a love that dulled the agony. But they both knew, somehow, that his life was in a precarious state.
*Sorry, beloved… Not sure I can make it…*
**You promised me you'd come back. You promised**
*I did, didn't I?*
He paused, gathering what little strength he had left.
*Can't break my promise…*
Summoning ki, trying to move his body as little as possible, Radittsu slowly *pulled* himself unsteadily upright, ignoring the pain, and regarded his squad.
"Well, why are you standing there? We have a planet to destroy."
Merica swallowed hard. How the fuck could Rad-san actually do this? He looked like death warmed up, and hardly had the strength to stand…
"Uh, sir… you need a hand, I think?"
He nodded minutely and held his hand out for his comms module.
"You can help me. Just get me into position: I can do the rest."
"You sure?"
Radittsu glared at him. No, of course he wasn't fucking sure, but he'd be damned if he failed his duty! He blanched as pain surged through him, and bit his lip, forcing it back down.
"I'll manage. You'll have to shield me though. And make sure the scoutship is as close as possible - I sure as fuck won't be able to get to it under my own power."
Merica saluted - then pulled Radittsu's arm over his shoulders and wrapped his tail around the big male's waist: softer and more supple than an arm, it would provide support without putting additional pressure on the wounds.
Radittsu eyed the others and nodded minutely. They'd do.
"Let's go."
Zha'haabron listened to the conversation, hands pressed tightly together, mouth a thin line, *giving* what strength and will he could through their bond. As Merica, Radittsu safely within his ki-shield, reached position above the planet, the zn'hre *reached* out to envelop his beloved in his own *essence*… Merica's eyes widened as Radittsu began to glow, his failing, suffering body outlined in a faint pure blue-white force that felt like the High King.
Well, he smirked to himself, if that doesn't do it, nothing will!
And the Feeodoreeans gave the order to start blasting the planet.
Hijau watched, wide-eyed and afraid to move, as Zha'haabron's ki enveloped the zn'hre, glowing brightly in the muted light of the control room. He could *feel* the vast outpouring of energy, and knew the king would be utterly exhausted later. He hadn't known this was possible - but then again, none of them knew very much about the zn'hre and their abilities, not even the zn'hre themselves.
He called up the real-time image of Budoushu, watching as fine beams of ki struck down onto the planet from above. Cracks began to appear in the world's crust, magma bubbling up from within. Shortly afterwards the tiny dots of light that were the scoutships began to streak away from the crumbling world, heading for the destroyer - all except for one. Without realising it Hijau held his breath as one final, slender beam hit the planet…
Seconds later the final scoutship sped for the big ship, racing against the shell of debris thrown outwards as Budoushu exploded behind it. Fisting his hands, Hijau willed them to make it…
The tiny spark of light disappeared into the destroyer - which immediately streaked away from the system, vanishing from the viewer. Hijau closed his eyes with a sigh - then opened them quickly, diving forwards to catch Zha'haabron as the High King collapsed forwards, semi-conscious as the ki-glow surrounding him abruptly snuffed out.
"My Ssii'iin? Are you all right?"
Zha'haabron nodded.
"He's safe." Unable to keep his eyes from drifting closed, the king smiled faintly at the Saiyan.
"Will you help me back to the suite, please?"
It was a cold night: on top of everything else, Zha'haabron was shivering violently by the time they reached the heat of the common room. Ti'aasaan and Zha'haarak hastened to lead him to the sleeping platform, pulling off the bodysuit as he fell asleep and covering him with a heavy sleeping fur. Zha'haarak turned to his bondmate, eyes brimming.
"Thank you, zkai'da."
Hijau pulled him close.
"It was the least I could do." His expression sobered. "You know Rad-chan's hurt?"
Zha'haarak nodded.
"We all felt it, to some degree."
*Do you know how bad it is?*
**Bad. But he's strong. And he's coming home** The gentle zn'hre frowned, perplexed. **We… don't feel… any fear for him… As though we know he will be well, that we have nothing to worry about** He gazed at Hijau, troubled. **Why should we feel like that?**
Hijau kissed his forehead.
*Maybe you know more than we do… I mean, perhaps you're… aware of more than us…* He tugged on his mane. *I'm not explaining myself…*
Zha'haarak laid a cool hand against his cheek.
**Please do not trouble yourself, zk'vissin. I know what you mean**
Hijau closed his eyes with a sigh.
*I'm glad you do, zkai'da!* He smiled. *I'd love to bathe…*
**I, also. Can you be spared tonight?**
In answer, Hijau gathered his bondmate to him and carried him through to the bathing chamber.
The pool was empty for once. As Hijau lowered his zn'hre into the hot water, Zha'haarak turned to him, nuzzling his neck and sliding down onto the studded erection, quivering as the beads teased over his barbs. Hijau closed his eyes blissfully and started shifting…
Minutes later Zha'haarak double-climaxed, head flung back, and slumped against his love's broad chest, one hand buried in the heavy, flame-coloured mane.
**Ah, zk'vissin…I want… Is there something you would like me to do for you?**
Hijau brushed a kiss over soft cool lips.
*Actually, yes… I'd like you to enter me.*
Zha'haarak's eyes widened in alarm.
**You want… but…**
Hijau held him close.
*If it troubles you, forget I mentioned it.*
**But you would like this?**
*Yes. Very much.*
**Then I will try…**
Grinning his delight, Hijau eased out of his bondmate's body and swivelled to kneel on the pool's seat. Zha'haarak hesitated for a moment. This didn't feel - right…
But you know Hi'ijaa likes this. And you know what to do. He wants this...
Taking a deep breath, Zha'haarak positioned himself carefully and pushed gently into his beloved's hot body.
Hijau sighed happily, slowly angling his hips so that the zn'hre's cool inkei rubbed over that wonderful nerve-cluster. Zha'haarak was uncertain, a little anxious, and his movements weren't rhythmic - which had the Saiyan holding his breath in delicious anticipation of the next thrust…
Then Zha'haarak lay over his back, one hand encircling his shaft, the other scratching lightly at his nipples... It was too much for Hijau, who came, hard, pulling his zkai'da with him.
The Saiyan slumped, forehead resting on his arms crossed on the edge of the pool, relishing the cool tingling sensation within him as Zha'haarak cuddled into his back. A long tongue licked firmly against his neck as slender hands slid smoothly over his body. He sighed and closed his eyes...
To open them a few minutes later, realising he was tired and relieved and would fall asleep if they stayed here any longer. Regretfully he stretched and moved, pulling the sleepy zn'hre with him and cradling the slim cool body in his arms.
*Come, beloved. We both need some sleep.*
'zhasaan watched the family sleep, a faint frown on his face. He'd had that strange dream again, the one with all the people dancing, and strange things in the sky - planetary rings, he thought - and singing, and the warmth of flames…
He didn't know what it was, or where, but it felt - nice.
It felt like home…
© 2002 September 26th Joules Taylor
