Aftermath 1

Zyelenyi, too exhausted to pace, resorted to expressing his frustration by slamming a fist into the desk.
      "I'm not qualified!"
      Hijau rubbed his eyes.
      "Neither is anyone else. You are the closest thing to a diplomat we have left."
      They sat in the newly-constructed diplomatic corps headquarters, a spacious and beautiful building in its own landscaped garden within the palace grounds. Even here, above and at a distance from the city, they could hear the faint sounds of construction. It would be years yet before the new Vejiitamachi was truly complete, but even now, just a hundred and fifty days after the war, it was habitable - and beautiful. Zyelenyi sank his head into his hands.
      "Hijau-sama, I don't have the experience. I was only Manzano's aide."
      The Captain was tired, and irritable, and had had enough of arguing.
      "It's not a request - it's an order. From the king." He added as the younger Saiyan opened his mouth to protest. "You're to have your choice of the Thinkers, and any others you believe will be able to fulfil the posts. The Saiya-jin-no-Ou wants a functioning diplomatic corps by next cold season at the latest. Conscript aliens if you think that best, but you will have a viable skeleton team organised by high summer."
      Zyelenyi looked horror-stricken. Two pregnant alien mates and unwanted promotion to Chief Diplomat? How the fuck was he going to cope?
      Heh, same way as Saiya-jin always coped… And to be honest, if he had his pick of candidates for the corps… that made the whole notion much more appealing… He could already think of a few people he wanted.
      "Does that include anyone? Even the family?"
      Hijau hesitated, then inclined his head.
      "You'd have to take it up with the Ssii'iin. But I don't think he'd object to reasonable requests, if the family member agreed." He frowned curiously. "Who've you got in mind?"
      "Don't know yet. Just checking."
      Hijau hauled himself upright.
      "Keep me apprised of progress."
      Zyelenyi saluted, turning to Kinu with a grin.
      "All right, little 'un. Let's make a start. Call me up the lists of Thinkers currently onworld, and any of the guard with diplomatic experience…"

One of Zha'haabron's first priorities, on his recovery, had been to ensure that the rebuilding of the Academy was accomplished without delay. The construction teams had worked day and night, and the gracious building rose rapidly from sturdy foundations - much like the old Academy in appearance, but far larger, with specially designed quarters to comfortably house a variety of different beings from a host of different worlds. Entrance to the grounds now led through the memorial garden, planted on the ruins of the old building, to a broad flat space before the lake: on the other side, its shimmering white stone and silvery dome reflected in the still water, the new Academy sat on a slight rise, stately and welcoming.
And Bri'seiyis was already planning the first Summer Event - the war, the death and destruction it had caused, and rebirth and the resurgence of hope, were to be the themes.

'tiisaan slumped down into the sleeping pit, tiredly rubbing at his shoulders, sighing when Lento's hands settled there, gently massaging away the day's aches. 'tiisaan desperately missed his dead shi'iin and companions: there were zn'hre currently auditioning for acceptance to the Academy, but the dancer had felt too heartsick to join Bri-sama and the other teachers in the interviewing process.
The Hassinan had been such a loving, comforting presence for the dancer, supporting him as he grieved. But 'tiisaan knew he was being selfish. Lento had said his mates had arrived onworld - and he really should be spending time with them, not here in Vejiitamachi. He didn't want Lento to leave, but…
"Thank you, aijin." He leaned back against the Hassinan, relishing the warmth of his slim body… perhaps they'd talk about it tomorrow…

The disaster had had one good result, if it could be termed such. The death of their hostlings had forced Fa'saayen and Suguri to put aside their enmity, come together with Ti'zheenan in shared grief. They were now living as a family on R'ren'nkh'ia, with the new hostlings - and surprisingly content, 'jiisa reported.
      Zha'haabron had been pleased with the news, though deeply saddened it had taken such a tragedy to bring them to their senses. 'jiisa had eyed his sire from the comms unit screen, noting the weariness in his face. It had been a hard year for the High King…
      "Why don't you come home for a visit, papa? It's been so long since you were here - we all miss you."
      The zn'hre considered the idea, then nodded. He needed a rest. Radittsu needed a rest. Let's be honest, the whole family needed a break, some time to relax away from the reminders of all they'd lost.
      "I will see what I can do…"

Vejiita had privately considered the Library a lesser priority in the rebuilding scheme, one that could wait until much later - until Leteetza stormed into his public office and demanded he have a team start work on it right now...
The king, for once, didn't argue. His Companion's moods were a little… extreme at the moment, and it was best not to upset her. Her unborn brats were very large - which was expected - and very active - which was half-anticipated. What they hadn't expected was that they were both female, as Vinas' scan had confirmed.
Radittsu had been gruffly delighted: privately Hijau found the thought of twin female versions of the big Saiyan a somewhat scary thought. At any rate, Leteetza was being indulged, almost everything she asked for being done almost as soon as she voiced the request. This result was gradually taking shape in the heart of the city, a massive edifice three times the size of the original but on the same site: the basements and sub-basements where everything had been stored well before the war were still safe and perfectly useable.

'haavok tossed a length of cabling to 'honee then wormed his way back half into a rank of terminals on the ground floor of the new Library, nimble fingers sorting through the datachips inside.
      **Well, I think we should drag him in with us for a while**
      'honee, gaze still focussed on the terminal screen as he ran protocol checks, nodded his agreement.
      **It's not healthy for him to mope like that…**
      'leesaan had been listless and apathetic since the war, since his lover's death. He really hadn't realised how much he'd come to rely on the big, bluff Saiyan in the time they'd had - less than a year. It had been a quiet affair, discreet, subdued, but filled with such warmth and comfort… The zn'hre academic always kept his feelings very much to himself - of all of the princes only 'zhasaan was more private - but 'haavok and 'honee were aware of his loneliness. Perhaps it came from working with him so much. They'd been wondering what to do for some time now.
      'haavok frowned.
      **Think he'd accept it?**
       **Maybe. I don't know. Though I'm sure papa would help, if need be**
      **Hm. All right. Let's talk to 'leesaan first, after we've finished here**

They found their shi'iin in the small, newly-planted and still mostly bare park a short distance from the Library building, sitting on a bench, huddled in on himself and staring at nothing. Glancing at each other, they seated themselves one to each side, their arms across their grieving sibling's shoulder.
      "He wouldn't like to see you like this, y'know."
      "That's true." 'honee added, nodding at his working partner. "You know how full of life Saiyans are. He'd want you to remember him alive, celebrate that, not being miserable like this."
      'leesaan shrugged irritably.
      "You didn't know him. You have no idea what he'd want."
      "Maybe not, but we know Saiyans. And we know you. You have taste and intelligence. You wouldn't have chosen anyone who wasn't worthy."
      'leesaan stared at 'haavok for a moment, eyes wide, then crumpled, lowered his face into his hands and sobbed silently. 'honee pulled him close, nuzzling his dark green hair.
      **Come, zvi'ch. Come with us. Stay with us, just for a little while. We promise we won't intrude - but you need company, and warmth, and someone who understands. It's not fair that you should have to endure your own grief and maazi's…**

Jagung spent a lot of time with Ti'aasaan while he was recovering, just sitting with the little zn'hre, sharing his misery. Ti'aasaan was a ghost of his former self, thin, pale, somehow smaller, silent and empty. Not even Zha'haabron could reach him - but Jagung's presence seemed to comfort him a little.
      That, and Zo'rien. The hostling was now, Vinas believed, out of danger and slowly growing stronger. He was still small, but obviously a fighter - though oddly silent: he'd not yet growled or hissed or made any of the usual hostling sounds, and when he cried, which wasn't often, it was soundlessly. Ti'aasaan wouldn't let the hostling out of his sight, which surprised no-one.
      At the light touch on his shoulder the Saiyan looked up from watching the little zn'hre sleeping: Zha'haarak had slid onto the sleeping platform and was eyeing Ti'aasaan sadly.
      "I wish I could help him." Jagung could barely hear the whisper. He shifted awkwardly: although mostly healed, he was still in some small degree of pain from his injuries.
      "We all wish that, hoseki."
      The worst of it was there was nothing they could do to help. Although familiarity might make the pain lessen over time, bonds didn't fade. There were times, Jagung believed, when only the pre-existing bonds between Ti'aasaan, Radittsu, Zha'haabron, Zha'haarak and himself kept the little zn'hre from disintegrating entirely, Zo'rien notwithstanding…

Radittsu sprawled on the chair in Hijau's office, regarding him narrowly.
      "You miss him."
      The Captain snarled irritably.
      "Aijin, I can do without the stupid comments. Of course I miss him. The Ssii'iin may have broken most of the bond, but there was still a connection - and… he was my friend. My lover. I can't just forget what we shared, any more than I could forget what you and I share."
      The big Saiyan nodded, eyes morose.
      "Yeah, I know. Me too. But all we can do is hold on and let time and distance ease the pain."
      "If it can."
      "It can for us."
      "And Tia-chan?"
      Radittsu shook his head, eyes lowered.
      "I don't know, aijin. It's never happened before."

Vejiita eyed the hash'shavven deputation guardedly, fully aware of the threat they could pose if they so chose - and that their allegiance was to Zha'haabron, not himself.
      But they'd saved the planet. He could hardly refuse them the small favour they asked.
      "Rakkan is not a large island, your majesty, but it has everything we require. And it is only a short flight - a couple of hours, no more - from Vejiitamachi. Should we ever be needed again, which of course we do not anticipate, we will be within easy reach of the mainland."
      The Saiya-jin-no-Ou nodded pensively.
      "Would you be here often?"
      Jeice grinned.
      "Well, I would dearly like to spend as much time as I can with the family!"
      Vejiita chuckled briefly.
      "You were missed."
      "That is gratifying to know."
      "Will you resume classes at the Academy?"
      "I can see no reason why not. I will need to return to Home on occasion, but I'm sure that can be easily arranged."
      "There will be a ship at your disposal any time you need it."
      "Thank you, sire."
      Vejiita shifted slightly. With the rebuilding of the palace, a new throneroom had been designed, lighter, airier, though still imposing. Miraculously the old throne had survived the devastation, though it looked a little battered and was even more uncomfortable than before. The Saiya-jin-no-Ou had been asked if he wished a new, more relaxing seat made, but he'd refused. The thinking had always been that the king must never become too comfortable in his post, must be reminded of the difficulties inherent in his position, and he saw no reason to change that now.
      "What do you intend to do with the island?"
      Jeice spread small hands wide.
      "Very little, sire. Much as we do at home - dance, hunt, make love, live - in harmony with the world."
      Vejiita nodded approvingly.
      "Very well. I grant you the island of Rakkan, in perpetuity, as the home and embassy of the hash'shavven on Vejiitasei."
      Jeice bowed deeply.
      "Thank you, your majesty. It is deeply appreciated. And we offer you hospitality whenever you might wish to visit."

'tiisaan hugged Jeice tightly.
      "You're really back to stay?"
      "For the foreseeable future, little one. I'll have to return to Home sometimes, but I'll always come back."
      The dancer sighed happily.
      "Thank you. 'rayne will be happy, too."
      Jeice's smile faded slightly: so much had happened while he'd been away - so much pain, and hurt. It would be a while before he'd fully internalised it all. He cuddled 'tiisaan.
      "And you and I must dance again, with all our friends."
      "Yes. That will make things better."
      Ah, if only things could be healed so easily… Jeice nodded.
      "We will have to see what we can do…"