Reunion

Zarakyu frowned at the brother he hadn't seen in more than half his lifetime.
       "What's wrong?"

Although they'd tried to stay in touch, it had been so very long since they'd been able to meet: Furiizaa and Furiju tended to patrol opposite ends of the galaxy. (There was a rumour that the sibling changelings hated each other, something to do with a quarrel over some hostage or other. It kept them apart - which was probably no bad thing...) But for once the two Renkians had ended up on the same planet at the same time. King Cold had commanded the presence of all three of his sons for a conference on strategy for the future expansion of the Empire: Zarakyu had eagerly sought out his sibling as soon as shore leave had been granted.
       Finding out where Zaabon was hadn't been that difficult. That ugly pink ball of blubber Dodorya had leered and pointed him in the direction of one of the seedier bars - slapping his backside painfully in the process. Zarakyu ignored him, resisting the urge to rub his bruised flesh until he was well out of sight. And also ignoring the taunts and groping hands that assaulted him as he strode towards the drinking hole - hole being the right term: what the hell had happened to his brother's sense of refinement?

Inside the light was dim. There was a nasty fight going on in one corner: in another an alien - Zarakyu couldn't tell which species, or even which gender, although it seemed to be able to do the most amazing tricks with the tentacles that covered the upper part of its body - was performing what was probably some sort of erotic dance. Going by the applause and ribald comments thrown in its direction, anyway. Finally, after peering through the gloom for several minutes, Zarakyu caught sight of Zaabon.
       Recognising him by his hair, the heavy mass of shimmering emerald glorious even in these sordid surroundings. But... he was sitting at a grimy table at the back of the bar. The drink before him almost untouched. Head sunk into his hands.
       Worried, Zarakyu had pushed his way through the crowd, slapping away the most intimate of the clutching hands and disregarding the rest, and slid into the seat opposite his brother.

Zaabon's head came up slowly, wearily, and Zarakyu bit back a gasp. Furiizaa's lieutenant looked haggard, shadows around his eyes, face drawn, the far-too-pale blue skin stretched tightly over the delicate bones beneath.

"Niisan?" Zarakyu laid a hand on Zaabon's arm, startled and anxious when his brother flinched and pulled back, eyes momentarily wide and frightened. Then, struggling to recover his self-possession, Zaabon swallowed and tried to smile.
       "Ototo. How are you?"
       "A lot better than you, by the look of things." Zarakyu glanced around. "Is there anywhere else we can go? I don't like it here."
       "Too rough for you, little brother?" Zaabon attempted a half-hearted sneer and failed. Zarakyu bit his lip: the other *felt* ragged, very far from the self-contained, self-confident big brother he'd always loved and looked up to.
       "Too rough for us, I think. Please, niichan, let's go somewhere else. You can come back to my quarters if you like."
       "Oh, Furiizaa would just love that!" Zaabon wearily shoved stray strands of bright hair back from his forehead.
       "Then let's go somewhere else. Please."
       Zaabon gazed at him for a moment, then nodded, too despondent to argue. "Very well."

The 'port was a miserable, squalid example of the type. As they left the bar for the stinking air outside Zarakyu stifled a cough, suddenly desperate to see something other than grey metal and grimy buildings, just for a little while. Grabbing his unprotesting brother's hand, he pulled them both a small distance above the ground - unwise to go too high, given the ships and cars that filled the airspace at all times of day and night - and headed out towards the countryside he knew had to be somewhere nearby.
       And an hour later they'd landed on a hillside, on the dry and brittle grass-like plant covering the ground, with stunted trees behind them and bare earth in front. But at least the air was clean, and the noise from the spaceport barely audible, and its glaring light so diminished they could actually see the stars. If they squinted...
       Zarakyu knelt behind his brother and eased the body armour from the muscular torso beneath, laying it aside and gently placing his hands on Zaabon's shoulders. Zaabon winced, and Zarakyu winced with him, feeling the long calloused ridges - and the much softer, swollen bruised areas - where the shoulder-guards still scarred and damaged skin that had once been used only to fine silk, or to the sweet airs of Renkia... long ago, in a lifetime so far away he could barely remember it...
       Zaabon whimpered and leaned back against his little brother, turning his head away. Zarakyu wrapped his arms as gently as he could around the mutilated, broad, bowed shoulders, biting his lip, forcing down tears.
       "Niichan.... What has happened to you?"
       For long moments Zaabon said nothing, his face raised to the sky, eyes closed. Then:
       "Otochan... Tell me what has happened with you."
       Zarakyu hesitated, not entirely sure what Zaabon was asking.
       "Um... Well, Furiju has me collating spectroscopic analyses of likely systems..."
       His voice tailed off as he felt his brother's shoulders shaking.
       "Zaabon?"
       Zaabon pulled forward out of his brother's arms, burying his face in his hands, his entire body shaken by terrible wrenching sobs.
       "...Zaabon...? Niichan...?"
       "...I'm sorry..."
       Zarakyu shifted to kneel in front of his brother, slender hands worming under Zaabon's strong palms to cup the tear-wet face and pull it up to his own.

He'd never seen such agony before. Not even in his own face, that first time Furiju had...
       "...nii... niichan...?"
       Zaabon pulled him close, hands convulsively clenching on his little brother's shoulders as he wept.
       "... forgive me..."
       Zarakyu grabbed his hair and dragged his face upwards, tears streaming down his own face.
       "What am I supposed to forgive? That you chose to live rather than let him destroy you? You think I did any different?"
       He hadn't thought his brother's face could grow any paler. He'd been wrong. Zaabon gripped his shoulders.
       "... He... you... "
       Zarakyu managed to nod. Zaabon hugged him close, his breathing ragged.
       "...I'll kill him..."
       Zarakyu choked on a bitter laugh. "How?"
       It acted like a slap in the face. Zaabon pulled back a little, staring at his younger brother. "We're helpless, aren't we?"
       "They're too strong."
       "Is... is it so bad for you?"
       Zarakyu gripped his bother's hands. "No. I think I gave in too quickly. He got tired of me." He swallowed hard. "And... for you...?"
       "They call me Furiizaa's whore."
       Zarakyu stared through his tears, at his brother's stark, immobile face. Feeling as though he was dying inside.
       "...niichan..."
       Zaabon forced a watery smile. "It's true. Except... I don't get paid."
       Zarakyu pulled Zaabon to him, sobbing.
       "...niichan..."
       They held each other, weeping, through the long, long night.

Three months into the next mission Furiju commanded his presence. His heart in his mouth, desperately afraid that this time the changeling would make good his threat, Zarakyu hastened to the Ice Lord's luxurious quarters. A smirking aide ushered him inside, and he moved to kneel at Furiju's feet, his head bowed, trembling.
       "Ah. Zarakyu. So good of you to come. And so promptly, too! I must commend your sense of duty."
       Swallowing hard, unable to hide the quaver in his voice, Zarakyu tried to respond.
       "M...my lord... H... how may I...?"
       "Serve me?" Icy fingers stroked down his cheek, raising a shudder. "My dear, I think, today, you should simply be allowed the time to grieve."
       Zarakyu froze, mind racing, not understanding. Strong cold fingers cupped his chin, yanking his face up to stare into the crimson eyes of the hard, white, cruel being above him.
       "Terribly sad, my dear. It appears that the Saiyan prince, Vejiita, managed to kill your brother Zaabon, in battle on Planet Namek. Several days ago."
       ...no... no... please...
       Furiju sneered down into the wide-eyed, devastated face below him.
       "Such a pity. And Zaabon such a - proficient... being..." Black claws stroked through silky dark emerald hair, scraping against the scalp beneath, drawing blood. Zarakyu hardly felt it.
       "P... please, my lord... m... may I... l... leave?"
       Furiju patted the ashen cheek, running a thumbnail across the brow, smiling at the thin trail of blood that trickled down the side of the beautiful, stunned face.
       "Of course, my dear friend. Take some time for yourself. I'll expect you back on duty - oh, let's see - at 0700 hours tomorrow."
       Eight hours. I have eight hours to come to terms with losing the only family I had left ...eight hours... niichan... Zaabon...
       Rising and bowing, his movements stiff, jerky, Zarakyu returned to his quarters. Not hearing the snide comments of Furiju's other personnel, the taunts and obscene suggestions as to what he could do with his brother's body - assuming there was anything of it left...

His door slid shut, and he just had strength enough to lock it before pain hit him like a tidal wave, knocking him to the floor as he screamed his anguish to the uncaring stars.