Dance

Jagung took a deep breath, managed a half-smile in response to Merica's encouraging nod, and walked nervously into the Academy.

Hijau had been less than impressed when Merica approached him to discuss Bri'seiyis' request - not overly surprising, since Jagung was Zha'haarak's guard. Merica hastened to assure him it wasn't any kind of full-time 'job'.
      "And you did say, sir, that you wanted the Ssii'irin to have another guard, especially now that Za'jau's here. And with Kinu spending so much time with them both…"
      The captain nodded pensively. This was quite true. And he had to admit, it was a little unfair to Jagung: watching Zha'haarak and the hostlings all the time was wearying now that 'jau was (he smiled proudly to himself) flying. Everywhere. With Kinu. Both of them already getting into mischief. If they'd thought 'haavok and 'honee were difficult to look out for, they were sadly mistaken… Jagung, however, hadn't been able to suggest anyone in particular that he thought would be appropriate. With a caution to Merica not to say anything to his bondmate until he'd arranged something mutually satisfactory, Hijau checked through the Elite Guard for those who weren't on active, regular and/or specific duty…
      After a swift half-hour review of the warriors under his command he sat back with a frown and called for Kyuri. She stuck her head around the door to his office with a grin, then entered, saluting smartly.
      "Sir?"
      He gestured her to sit, then briefly explained his 'problem'. Her eyebrows shot up.
      "Jagung's going to dance? I'd have thought he'd never want to be reminded of his past…"
      Hijau shook his head.
      "I also. It was a long time ago, though…"
      Kyuri nodded.
      "Twenty odd years… Long enough for the nightmare to have died."
      "Hn."
      "And he's always moved like a dancer…"
      "What I don't understand is why Merica's allowing it. I'd have thought he'd hate the very idea."
      Kyuri shrugged.
      "Things change. It's respectable now!"
      Hijau chuckled.
      "There is that… I need your advice on guards for Zha'haarak and the brat - brats I should say - while Jagung is at the Academy."
      Kyuri pursed her lips, considering.
      "There's not a lot of choice, unless you want to pull someone off another duty…"
      "I'd prefer not to."
      "Right… then I suggest you consider Sasa."
      "Sasa? Primary nitorine special squad?"
      Kyuri nodded.
      "Bordering on high-elite, skilled, can certainly take care of herself." Kyuri chuckled. "Looking like that she's needed to."
      Hijau called up the young warrior's records and scanned them quickly, nodding.
      "Looks promising. What's she doing right now?"
      "Reserve guard. Filling in time training, takes a couple of classes of young shr'en'an for basic ki-training every five days. Nothing vital."
      "I'll speak to her." He smiled at his second in command. "Anyone else?"
      She inclined her head.
      "How about Jahonda?"
      Hijau frowned.
      "I thought he was with Nappa."
      She nodded.
      "He is. He wants out - his transfer request came through an hour ago."
      Hijau checked his monitor again, pausing at an image of a large warrior with a thick dark brown mane.
      "Nappa's used him as diplomatic liaison?"
      "With some success."
      "Didn't think Nappa was interested in diplomacy."
      "He's not, particularly. But his majesty has started penalising the offworld forces for unnecessary damage done to potentially useful worlds."
      Hijau blinked.
      "Nappa won't like that!"
      She shook her head.
      "He doesn't. But he's obeyed. Reluctantly."
      The captain frowned.
      "Who's going to take over if Jahonda comes here?"
      "I believe Manzano has someone in mind."
      "I'll speak to him. Do you know what Jahonda is like, personally?"
      "I don't. Bet Merica does, though."
      "Very well, I'll speak to him. In the meantime, have Sasa report to me."

Sasa was more than adequately qualified for the post, and very agreeable to becoming Zha'haarak's secondary guard. She'd seen him at the messhall, at dinner with his bondmate, and thought him exquisite - and she was sufficiently honest to admit, if only to herself, that she was itching to know if some of the rumours she'd heard about the family were true…
      She'd joined the captain, the prince and their hostling for the midday meal, admiring 'jau and talking a little nervously with Zha'haarak, who was even more beautiful close up. Afterwards Hijau had asked for his bondmate's opinion.
      Zha'haarak had been favourably impressed.
      **I believe she will be an excellent guard - and companion. And 'jau likes her…**
      So matters were arranged with Hijau's customary efficiency, with Sasa moving into the palace in a suite close to Merica and Jagung's and joining the latter during the day, to acquaint herself with the family and their habits. Nine days later Jahonda also arrived - rather to Hijau's surprise Zha'haarak took to the big, bluff warrior very quickly - and Jagung could be released to teach at the Academy every third day.

Merica hadn't seen him so nervous since the first time they'd met. His bondmate hadn't been able to stay still the night before his first teaching session, pacing their rooms and poring over the hard-copy he'd printed out of Bri'seiyis' proposed curriculum. The zn'hre had thoughtfully appended a list of the students who'd shown an interest in Saiyan dance - 'tiisaan's name was, unsurprisingly, at the top, but there were thirty other names, a handful of zn'hre, an assortment of alien species he mostly hadn't even heard of, and even three young Saiyans. Merica watched him pacing, tail lashing, chewing his lip, then rose to grab him into a tight embrace.
      *You're worrying without cause, aijin. You'll be fine.*
      Jagung swallowed hard. To Merica's amazement he was trembling.
      *I don't know that, aijin. It's been so long since I danced…*
      Merica kissed him, hard.
      *You move as gracefully as you ever did - it'll all come back to you as soon as you start. Koi, you never lost the skill.*
      Jagung was silent, but still tense. Merica nuzzled his neck.
      *C'mon, what's wrong?*
      *I… I'm afraid… I'll fail…*
      Merica sighed and stroked his tail.
      *You won't. I know you won't.*
      Jagung pulled back, smirking wryly.
      *That sounds like an - "or else"…*
      Merica chuckled and held him close.
      *No. I wouldn't do that to you. Look, you're the only Saiyan dance teacher there, aren’t you?*
      Jagung nodded. Merica smirked.
      *So you'll be the best Saiyan dance teacher there, won't you?*
      The dancer laughed outright.
      *Heh, you do have a point!*
      Merica fondled his tail, making him gasp.
      *If you don't enjoy it, or you think it isn't working, no one will force you to carry on. Understood?*
      Jagung nodded and kissed his bondmate.
      *Come with me, tomorrow? Just as far as the door…*
      Merica sighed, then kissed his love's nose.
      *Brat. Of course I will…*

One wing of the Academy had been dedicated for zn'hre use - since it seemed very likely the zn'hre would outnumber the other students - with extra heating and insulation, and large communal sleeping pits: the individual suites were designed for eight students. That is, the pit slept eight comfortably, and there were eight workstations around the walls - Zha'haabron insisted on the students taking at least some academic lessons each day, and Bri'seiyis had agreed whole-heartedly.
      'tiisaan - and 'viirel, Ti'kaanan, Ti'nienan, and Ti'vadin - had grabbed the suite with the most interesting view: top floor, placed along the rear wall of the wing so it had two balconies, and looking out over a large shallow pool. (Bri'seiyis intended, later, to have a floating platform of some kind, plentiful seating for an audience, and some special lighting fitted, so that open air performances could take place, but for now the pool was serene, its surface dotted with fragrant flowering waterplants and big iridescent birds that had flown in from further north.) They'd quickly made the place a home-from-home, hanging R'ren'nkh'ian windchimes from the ceiling, placing some of Zha'haarak's sketches on the walls (Bri'seiyis had inspected these carefully: 'tiisaan could almost see him planning to ask the Ssii'irin to give drawing lessons!) and piling cleansers and lotions from the homeworld onto the shelves in the small but cosy, adequate bathing chamber.
      Bri'seiyis allowed each student two days to accustom themselves to the Academy's layout, find out where all their classes would be held, ask any questions they wanted and generally settle in. On the third day classes started in earnest.
      Really in earnest. It had been made clear to everyone applying that they were there to learn, and they would do so, or they'd be made to leave. (That weeded out a fair number of hopefuls looking for the chance for an easy life on Vejiitasei.) Those who still wanted to join had to send a recording of themselves in performance - that got rid of the obviously inept, although the zn'hre songwright did make allowance for improvement: rejections could apply again, in a year's time. Then Bri'seiyis had personally auditioned those that remained. Of those, perhaps half were accepted. Right now there were ninety students at the Academy: there was room for at most two hundred living in the building. Bri'seiyis considered it an excellent start.

'tiisaan stretched, then flopped forwards and placed his hands flat on the floor, keeping his legs straight, flexing tired muscles and trying to ease the ache in his spine. 'viirel gently rubbed at his lower back, sighing quietly.
      "Well, if you will volunteer to teach a class a day as well as attend your own, what do you expect, zk'vissin?"
      'tiisaan peered upwards from under his arm, offering an upside-down grimace.
      "I know, I know…"
      "Perhaps you should ask Bri-san if you could lessen your workload? Jagung-san will be starting in eight days time: you'll have his classes as well…"
      The dancer rolled slowly upright, wriggling as the ache eased, and nodded regretfully.
      "You're right. I'll speak to him tomorrow."

The Academy's students' schedules were full, challenging, but not punishing: Bri'seiyis wanted them to enjoy themselves as well as hone their abilities. At present, the zn'hre was offering classes in the musical arts - dance, music composition and performance of all kinds, choreography and songwriting, with costume design (overseen by Jeice) as a subsidiary. He intended to extend that into the visual arts at some point in the near future, but at present a lack of tutors made it impossible… Still, several renowned alien artists in various media had shown considerable interest in the Academy: he had high hopes that within a year the Academy could offer a much more extensive range of subjects…
'tiisaan was the most experienced exponent of native R'ren'nkh'ian, and zn'hre, dance the Academy had. (Fair enough, it was reconstructed zn'hre dance, but it was as close as they could come without actually watching a zhaneer performance, and they still had no idea of Zhane's coordinates…) In fact, 'tiisaan was the only exponent, and as such the tuition of all classes in the art fell to him. Bri'seiyis had tried to keep the number and duration to a minimum, but nevertheless his star student was simply trying to do too much - already, and the Academy had only been in operation for eighteen days. Bri'seiyis called a staff meeting to re-organise classes in order to lessen the pressure on the young zn'hre, and determined to speak to the young dancer the next day.

'viirel nodded.
      "Make sure you do."
      He glanced over his shoulder as their roommates returned, hissing happily. 'nienan flung himself into the sleeping pit: his siblings had brought a platter of seared meats back with them for everyone to share. (There was an Academy eatery, beautifully decorated and comfortable and serving a fine variety of foods to suit all palates and digestive systems, but the zn'hre usually preferred to take early evening meal in their room: then they could get straight into their academic lessons without having to walk back to their workstations.)
      "Smells good!"
      'kanaan grinned.
      "Tastes good too! Help yourselves…"
      There was silence while they ate, and a further silence, punctuated by the occasional comment or question as they worked, then everyone congregated in the eatery for last meal and the general roundup of the day. Bri'seiyis insisted on the ritual - as much as anything so he could check no-one had gone missing! - as a way of winding down, sharing news, socialising and solving any little problems or niggles that had arisen during the day. Nearly everyone loved the evening meet: it was fun to talk with fellow students outside of classes, and a great deal of unconscious education occurred as the various species learned about each other, soaking in details of race, homeworld, culture and attitude without even realising it.

'tiisaan yawned, his head resting on 'viirel's shoulder: they were all relaxing in their small pool before settling down for the night. 'vadin grinned.
      "What's everyone doing tomorrow?"
      "Tomorrow'll be fun." 'kanaan was already half asleep, but roused himself enough to nod happily. "Parz has had a whole load of alien instruments brought here: we're going to try them out, see what they're like and if we want to learn any of them."
      'viirel's half-closed eyes opened again.
      "Oooh. Wonder if Bri-san would let me join you? Be interesting to see what there is…"
      'tiisaan had stirred too, sitting upright and leaning forwards curiously.
      "Hn. New sounds… Will you let me know if there's anything unusual?"
      'nienan eyed him.
      "What sort of sound are you looking for?"
      "Not sure…" 'tiisaan frowned. "I have an idea for a sort of ice-desert, snowstorm dance. I'm looking for something that sounds cold, high and frosty, like ice breaking in the wind…"
      'vadin frowned.
      "Can't the st'aa'n make the right sounds? Or the kk'kivn?"
      'tiisaan pursed his lips.
      "Sort of - but they're not quite right. Not cold enough. Not hard enough. I want something that sounds like deep winter, a… full sound, but not complex…"
      'vadin nodded thoughtfully.
      "Zh'a, will see what we can find." He frowned. "Isn't that a bit of a strange thing for a zn'hre to dance, though? I mean, you've only ever experienced winter from inside a warm room!"
      'tiisaan grimaced unhappily.
      "I know. It's a problem. I think I'll have to go outside next deep winter, just for a little while, walk in the grounds and *feel* what it's like. Then I'll be able to dance it…"
      'kanaan shook his head.
      "Never let it be said you don't enjoy a challenge!" He grinned widely and glanced at his siblings. "We'll see what we can do for you. And I'll have a think about the composition too."
      'tiisaan smiled his thanks - then yawned again and rubbed his eyes. 'viirel tugged his hair gently.
      "Bed time, I think. All of us!"

'vadin was usually first awake, cuddling siblings and friends alike to rouse them and setting the warmer going to heat up drinks for them all - but this morning 'tiisaan had woken first.
      'vadin had blinked at him in surprise: 'tiisaan was never awake this early. It usually took at least three beakers of mildly stimulating hafna even to have him sitting up yawning. The dancer grinned.
      "Jagung-san is coming here today!"
      Ah, of course! The Ssii'irin's personal guard, the beautiful Saiyan with the lovely eyes. They'd all been fascinated to learn that the Saiya-jin had a form of dance, as they'd never seen any evidence of it anywhere onworld…
      'tiisaan was excited. He knew a little of Jagung's history - maazi had told him about it, so he didn't embarrass the Saiyan by asking awkward questions - and was really looking forwards to watching him dance. And learning. Even if, as he suspected, the dance form itself wasn't especially suitable for a tailless being, he'd be bound to learn something, moves or steps or a feeling he could incorporate into his own work.
      Jagung had asked to have his introductory class first thing, figuring that that way he wouldn't have time to get so nervous he couldn't dance if he wanted to. Accordingly he'd arrived at the room he'd been allocated only seconds after his potential students had seated themselves.
      He stood on the small performance dais beside Bri'seiyis as the zn'hre - much to his relief - introduced him, then smiled, handed over to him, and moved to a seat at the back of the room…

'tiisaan bit his lip, feeling sorry for Jagung, who was obviously really nervous and apprehensive about the whole thing. It was kind of funny, in a way, that a member of the Elite Guard should be scared of being in front of a bunch of hostlings, but then again, fighting was a bit different to dancing. You didn't usually have thirty-four pairs of critical eyes scrutinising you intently, for one thing…
      Jagung kept his initial comments short, explaining that what he knew of Saiyan dance was designed to appeal to one's mate, and that he believed that - long long ago - it may have been part of courtship and bonding. There was no actual choreography to it, it was instinctive to a large degree, but there were certain moves, certain poses, that Saiya-jin (at any rate) found… appealing…
      But he could show them better than tell them. He grinned wryly, handing over an audio chip to the technician at the side of the dais - then shrugging out of his clothes and down to the tight loincloth that barely covered his genitals. A ripple went through his audience: he was beautiful…
      The music started - well, less music, more a beat, like a heartbeat or waves on a distant shore, interweaved with rustling leaves and tiny liquid notes like birdsong… It was stirring in a primitive way, raising a shiver through those listening. And then Jagung began to dance, and 'tiisaan could focus on nothing else…
      Fluid, leisurely, earthy… the motion-analogue of a deep green forest… flowing muscle, powerful movements, twisting, twining, arms and legs and tail expressing life and lust, half-closed eyes and tiny knowing smile…
      They couldn't say, afterwards, how long he'd danced, except that it wasn't long enough. Could never be long enough. As the music faded away he paused, his attitude hovering somewhere between demand and submission, offering fulfilment, pleading to be held, protected, ravished…
      One by one the breathless students - and the teachers who'd joined them out of curiosity - rose to their feet, their applause a slow-swelling wave that left the dancer blushing and bright-eyed. Arms extended to the sides, tail quivering, he bowed deeply.
      Bri'seiyis moved to the dais as Jagung reached for his clothes, slipping into them gracefully. The zn'hre's eyes were bright with emotion.
      "Jagung-sama, that was extraordinary. Thank you for sharing it with us." he smiled. "And please tell us, will you be happy to teach it to us?" He gestured to the students, who were waiting with bated breath for his confirmation.
      Jagung eyed the zn'hre, filled with a strange and almost blissful sense of happiness, satisfaction and contentment. He'd kept it hidden even from Merica, but he'd been terrified that dancing would bring back all the old memories… But it had done the opposite. Released him, set him free. Now he could dance as he'd always been meant to.
      He nodded, grinning. And the class erupted into a resounding cheer.

In the final event Jagung ended up slotting into the schedule of Jeice's classes for twenty days. The diplomatic corps had set the 'retrieval plan' in motion, and one by one had succeeded in tracking down several hundred of the lost hash'shavven children - but now they'd found a whole colony's-worth, in servitude to the Brananians to whom the Omani had sold them. The Brananian were one of the races making application to join the Empire, and as a gesture of good faith had been, if not exactly happy, then certainly not unwilling to hand all their hash'shavven over to the diplomatic corps. All 1,500 of them!
Jeice had wept with joy at the news, and left to personally oversee their repatriation to Home, taking Keisan - who was close to giving birth - with him.

**Zkai'da?**
      Radittsu sighed and smiled over his shoulder at his bondmate. It was midnight, a perfectly clear sky above, a planet at peace stretched out below him as he gazed out from the balcony.
      *It's all right, beloved. It's just too nice a night to sleep.*
      Zha'haabron chuckled and loped to cuddle into his broad warm back.
      **Then let us do something else with the night. It has been long since we went… flying…**
      Grinning broadly, the Saiyan swept his love into his arms and took off into the perfect sky, hovering with him between the heavens above and their home below as they made love under the smiling stars.