Two

"Vinas!" Zha'haarak's voice, high and panicky, echoed through the caves, jerking the Feeodoreean from his communication with his colleagues back in Vejiitamachi. Instinctively grabbing for his medical bag, he hastened through the chambers to the small zn'hre cave.
      Inside, Zha'haarak was struggling to hold Ti'aasaan, the little zn'hre writhing and hissing, hysterical, insensible to anything but the aching void within him where his bondmate's strong presence had been. The prince looked up at the biotech with fear in his eyes.
      "Vinas, he's bleeding… I think the hostling's trying to come… it's too soon!!"
      The biotech glanced down in consternation: the little zn'hre's furs were darkly stained with blood, the white pelt turning a deeper blue as he watched. Moving with efficient speed, the Feeodoreean grabbed a pre-charged hypodermic from his bag, injecting Ti'aasaan then helping to hold him steady as the sedative took effect. After a short moment the little zn'hre collapsed, semi-conscious, and Vinas glanced over his shoulder to Ta'haarel hovering at the entrance to the cave.
      "We need more warmth, water, extra light - warm furs…"
      The zhaneer nodded and raced to find Mahrayne as Vinas laser-cut Ti'aasaan's bodysuit from him. Once the zn'hre's lower body was exposed, the biotech frowned at Zha'haarak.
      "You are all right to hold him?"
      "Y… yes. Of course."
      Nodding, Vinas turned back to the job at hand, refusing to let his worry show, running his hand-held monitor over the zn'hre's abdomen. Ti'aasaan had only been hosting for a hundred and fifty days, just half the gestation time for previous Saiya-jin/R'ren'nkh'ian hostings: the chances of the hostling being able to survive if born this early were slim… He delved in his kit for a vial of all-purpose contraction-suppressant - usually used in the cases of severe and persistent muscle-spasm to which his own species occasionally fell victim - and held it up, hesitating for a moment. There was no guarantee that it would work…
      Ti'aasaan moaned in pain, hands gripping his belly, and Vinas risked it, injecting the liquid swiftly directly into the zn'hre's groin, wincing at the hissing scream the action caused. Intent, his gaze switching from monitor to Ti'aasaan's chitsu, he hardly breathed for long, long moments until he was sure the blood-flow was slowing and the contractions had stopped. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, he pulled the furs back over the shivering pale blue body and eyed Zha'haarak.
      "What caused it?"
      The prince swallowed.
      "He… we've *lost* Zorun…"
      Vinas blinked, then frowned. Even after all this time he was learning new aspects to bonding.
      "He's dead?"
      Tears ran down Zha'haarak's face.
      "The bond was broken."
      The Feeodoreean nodded grimly, then looked over his shoulder as Mahrayne arrived, her arms draped with furs, a large bowl of warm water between her hands. Behind her a silent, pale, shocked Korena followed her mother into the chamber and curled up beside the unconscious little zn'hre. The Hassinan eyed her daughter, Ti'aasaan and Zha'haarak, then bit her lip.
      "W… what has happened."
      Korena looked up, her eyes frighteningly empty.
      "Papa's gone."
      Mahrayne felt suddenly dizzy, whispered,
      "…what…?"
      Zha'haarak, his voice choked with grief, nodded, cradling Ti'aasaan more closely to him.
      "The bond has broken."
      "And the shock pushed Ti'aasaan-sama into premature labour. I've managed to stop the process, but he will need careful monitoring and absolute peace and quiet." Vinas frowned at the Hassinan. "I would like you to help provide it. Will you take charge of the hostlings?"
      Numb, her own tears hot on her cheeks, Mahrayne nodded, beckoning the children to her and cuddling them tightly.

A sleepless, overwrought three hours later Zha'haarak stirred, placing his hand on Ti'aasaan's forehead then gesturing frantically for Vinas. The Feeodoreean was at his side almost instantly, monitor in hand: Ti'aasaan's temperature was far too high. He reached for another hypodermic and injected it into the zn'hre's thigh as Zha'haarak watched anxiously: it was several minutes before his temperature slowly began to lower. The Feeodoreean frowned at his monitor again, shaking his head.
      "What is it, Vinas?"
      The biotech eyed the gentle zn'hre sombrely.
      "Hormone levels are up again. I'll try lowering them."
      Another injection, into the flesh above the whimpering zn'hre's hip, and another tense wait - but eventually Vinas nodded.
      "That's better." He gazed at the prince. "You should sleep, highness."
      Zha'haarak sighed.
      "Later. When I know Tia-chan is safe."
      "Very well." Vinas beckoned to Zh'leet and Br'yaan, trays full of beakers of glop in their hands, as they appeared at the entrance. Zh'leet squatted down beside Ti'aasaan as she handed a beaker to Zha'haarak.
      "How is he?"
      "All right, we think."
      She hissed a sigh of relief, then cuddled 'vaasaan to her, worried eyes still on the little zn'hre…

Two hours later Zha'haarak woke from an uncomfortable half-doze to find Ti'aasaan whimpering, his body shaking and far too hot again. Vinas was at his side immediately - eyes narrowing at the results on his monitor. He glanced over at Mahrayne.
      "Please organise more warm water. And I may have to ask for a protein donation from such of your males as would be prepared to help."
      The Hassinan stared uncomprehendingly. Vinas sighed.
      "The hostling is on his way, and I dare not try stopping the birth again. To give the child the best chance of survival, a warm bath - a mix of water and protein - is required: at least we can ease the transition between hosting chamber and external environment." He eyed Zha'haarak. "Can you assist, highness?"
      Sliding the writhing, moaning Ti'aasaan into Zh'leet's arms, Zha'haarak nodded hurriedly, hands reaching for his groin. Mahrayne hastened from the chamber, feeling her face flush.
      How was she going to be able to ask such an… intimate thing of the males in the family?
      Ah. Lento. And Malum would be sure to agree to help, and could ask the others. They owed Zha'haabron a lot, surely a few minutes inconvenience wasn't much to ask to help his little mate?

Ti'aasaan's abdomen was clenching involuntarily. Zh'leet wrapped her arms around his shoulders - and 'vaasaan laid a hand on his belly, *reaching* for the tiny, distressed being inside.
      **You shouldn't come out yet**
      A little *sign* of agreement. 'vaasaan bit his lip: the hostling didn't want to be born yet, but couldn't stop it, couldn't help his maazi… Ti'aasaan roused slightly as Vinas checked his chitsu.
      "… what…? No! Not yet!" He gripped Zh'leet's wrists weakly, his eyes on Vinas, beseeching. "Please, Vinas, please make it stop… it's too soon…"
      Vinas' expression was bleak.
      "I'm sorry, Ssii'iir. I have done everything I can…"
      Ti'aasaan was sobbing, hands wrapped protectively around his belly.
      "But he's all I have left of my zkai'da…" He folded over himself with a moan as pain stabbed through him, then turned his head and wept against Zha'haarak's chest as the prince resumed his place.
      It took an hour of pain, of stress and blood, for the little hostling to be born. Zh'leet lowered him carefully into the bowl of warm liquid Mahrayne had brought back with her, gently rubbing the tiny, feebly squirming body as Vinas worked to stop Ti'aasaan's bleeding. The little zn'hre was almost unconscious again, so pale he was almost white, and completely exhausted. As Vinas finally managed to close the dilated vessels he roused slightly.
      "Can… I see… him…?"
      Vinas eyed him, then glanced at the hostling. It was alive, but for how long he didn't want to hazard a guess. Zh'leet nodded, carefully lifted the tiny creature from the basin, wrapped him in a fine soft fur and handed him to Ti'aasaan.
      The little zn'hre gazed at him, eyes tearing. The hostling gazed up at him from huge, gold-flecked black eyes from under a shaggy black mane, his skin the palest shade of blue, the minute tail that weakly tried to wrap his host's wrist soft and black.
      "He's beautiful… he looks like his sire…" Ti'aasaan swallowed hard, biting back a sob. "Zo'rien. His name is Zo'rien."
      The hostling gave a tiny, almost soundless hiss, then his eyes closed. For a moment Ti'aasaan panicked - then felt the tiniest *tickle* of hostling-bond against his mind. He managed a watery smile at the biotech.
      "I think… I think he'll be all right…"
      Vinas thought otherwise, didn't expect the hostling to survive the next couple of hours, but wasn't going to say any such thing. Ti'aasaan had more than enough to deal with right now without that…

But Zo'rien hung onto life, and by mid-morning seemed a little stronger. Vinas was pleased - and overwhelmingly curious. That such a premature hostling could survive, let alone thrive, was a complete mystery to him. Neither Ti'aasaan nor Zha'haarak could enlighten him: as far as they knew such a thing had never happened before, but then, they knew very little about their own physiology. He finally put it down to the hostling's strong Saiyan genes, at least until he could examine Zo'rien properly. He had no intention of suggesting such a thing at the moment; concern for the baby was distracting the family from their grief over Zorun, and that was a good thing.

'selaan nestled into Pirum's warmth, his face buried against her breast, weeping quietly as she stroked his hair.
      "Will he be all right?"
      'sel nodded slightly.
      "I think so. As long as he has Zo'rien to look after. If he dies… I don't know." He lifted his face to hers, eyes brimming. "It's never happened before - broken bonds, I mean. Until papa came here, we'd never had the opportunity to bond. It *feels* like he's been… torn in half. As though half of him's missing. Hurts. How much it hurts him I don't want to think…"
      Pirum hugged him closely, thinking to herself that while the idea of bonding was wonderful, in reality it certainly had drawbacks.
      She didn't want to consider what might happen if any of the rest of the family were lost…