Reflections

"Otochan? Hey, where are you, you little horror!"
       Zaabon's laughing voice reached him from further up the rise as the youngster crouched down behind the rock, hands tight across his mouth as he tried not to snigger, tried not to wriggle and give away his hiding place.
       But it never worked: his niichan could always find him. He shrieked and giggled as strong, capable blue hands wrapped around his waist from behind and tossed him into the wind, catching him again as he spun and fell and swinging him around and around as he squealed with delight. Laughing, Zaabon collapsed to the ground, his little brother in his arms, silky emerald hair rippling as the breeze pulled stray strands from his plait.
       "You, otochan, are getting heavy!"
       "Well, it's cos I'm growing up big an' strong like you!" he announced proudly, squirming as Zaabon tickled his ribs.
       "You are, aren't you?"
       The five year old gazed up at the thirteen year old. Bright golden eyes gazed back, smiling tenderly - then Zaabon tweaked his nose.
       "C'mon - we need to get back: I'm late already."
       "Aww..." Zarakyu pouted, but nodded reluctantly, and Zaabon rose, lifting the infant easily onto his shoulder.
       "We'll have to fly..."
       Zarakyu squealed delightedly and slid down to lie against his brother's back, arms around his neck. Zaabon glanced back.
       "Ready?"
       "Yeah!" Zaabon winced slightly as the enthusiastic young voice shouted in his ear, then took off smoothly, soaring back towards the city.

"You're late. Again!"
       Zaabon grinned and kissed his mother on the cheek. She scowled at him.
       "And what class are you missing at the moment?"
       "Cultural history."
       "I though you liked cultural history."
       He shrugged. "It's OK."
       Slivya, his eldest sister, looked up from her screen and stuck out her tongue.
       "He only goes because there's lots of girls there."
       Putting on an outraged and indignant expression, Zaabon planted his fists on his hips.
       "I do not!"
       Chuckling, his mother swatted his rear.
       "Go on, off with you! And try to behave, for once."
       He grinned at her, ruffled Zarakyu's hair, then took off and raced from the dwelling - too fast to hear his mother's "And don't fly in the house!" trailing after him.
       She turned to her mate, shaking her head.
       "What are we going to do with the boy?"
       "Mmm? Which boy?" Zir replied absently, not taking his eyes from the schematic of the complex lyric he was writing.
       Sileris threw a beaker at his head - which he caught without looking up.
       "Your eldest son, baka!"
       Zir smiled up at her.
       "Leave him alone. He'll be fine." He glanced down at Zarakyu. "Hello little one. Want to see what I'm doing?"
       Zarakyu nodded happily and climbed into his father's lap, settling down to a couple of hours' exploration into the basics of sonic composition.

"Obachan?" Zenki, Sileris's elder sister's middle son, burst into the family room. Sileris looked up from feeding her younger daughter and smiled at Zaabon's partner-in-mischief and main sparring mate - then sighed resignedly as she realised her son wasn't with him.
       "What trouble's he got himself into this time?"
       "Huh? Oh, no - he's not in trouble." He smirked. "Well, not that sort of trouble, anyway!" He poured himself and Sileris beakers of fruit juice.
       "Would you care to tell me just why he isn't with you, then?"
       Zenki glanced towards the exit, grinning. Curious, Sileris crossed to the window and glanced into the communal by-way outside.
       Zaabon was standing a little way down, deep in conversation with a young female - a stranger, slightly older than he was. Pretty, too - soft, slate-grey skin, finely boned features and dark grey-green hair held back in a long, loose tail. It certainly wasn't unusual to see Zaabon with at least one female at his side, but something in his attitude made her look twice, this time...
       She shook her head. Precocious and mature for his age he might be, but he was still a little young to be thinking about finding a mate. He hadn't even started thinking about a life-path yet! She was worrying unnecessarily. He'd have no problems, when the time came. He was far too attractive - and too territorial - to have to share.
       She turned from the window and smiled at her nephew.
       "Who is she?"
       "Sasna. My cousin. Kaachan's eldest brother's daughter. She's actually on walkabout, but thought she'd come visit for a while since it was on her way." He grinned. "She's kind of cool - done all sorts of amazing stuff."
       "Invite her in!"
       "Nah - I should take her back. The family doesn't know she's here yet: she came straight to the class to meet me first." He smirked proudly. "But maybe tomorrow?"
       Sileris chuckled, kissing the lad's forehead.
       "That would be good. Why don't you both come over for the evening meal? Bring your brothers, if you like - it's been a while since we've seen you all."
       "'K! See you later, obachan!" She shook her head as he raced out of the house. Where did they get all their energy from?
       Zarakyu was at the window, staring out at Zaabon, his lower lip trembling. The shy, sensitive child hated it when his adored brother paid attention to anyone else, especially girls... She sighed and hugged him.
       "Aiji... It's all right, he still loves you."
       He turned and snuggled into her embrace, sniffling, and she kissed him.
       "Come on. I've made a treat for you."
       She carried him through to the spacious eating hall and perched him on a bench, pulling warm waffles from the hotstore and drenching them in a sweet syrup. He stared at them, woefully, for a moment, then brightened and took a mouthful.
       It was OK. He knew Zaabon loved him more than any stupid girl...

It was a special place, a pool in a hollow between two low, sweeping hills, a shallow valley where the ever-present wind was reduced to the slightest whisper. They'd found it by accident, one evening when returning from a trip to the coast, and it had been Zarakyu's 'secret' place ever since. Zaabon's too, though he'd never admit it, but it was nice to have somewhere to escape to, to think and dream - on the rare occasions he felt so inclined. Like today...
       He lay back, basking in the sun, hair loose since there was no wind, pondering idly on the future. And Sasna.
       He knew he was, in his mother's words, an incorrigible flirt - always had been. It came in useful: between that and his exotic beauty he could get away with almost anything, and usually did (he wasn't stupid! No point in not using what he'd been born with...) The males in his peer group looked up to him, as much for his quick wit as for his superior fighting ability. Girls liked being with him, even though he teased them unmercifully, and he'd always enjoyed their company in an easy, relaxed way, confident of his own attractiveness. But Sasna was - different.
       Perhaps it was because she was older. She'd already determined her life-path - she wanted to teach, to pass on knowledge. She was a proficient fighter, too, and adventurous: she'd even travelled to the colony on the system's fourth planet with her mother's brother, a skilled pilot. She'd talked to Zaabon as a person, rather than as some sort of prize - something he hadn't quite known how to deal with.
       And she was very lovely.
       He swallowed, confused by unfamiliar feelings. Perhaps he ought to have a chat with kaachan...
       "Niichan?"
       He glanced up, grateful for the distraction of Zarakyu's call. The child was hurrying towards him across the soft blue turf, something held carefully in his cupped hands. Zaabon pulled himself to his knees to look.
       A flower. An unusual flower, large, sweet-scented, with orange-veined, creamy petals.
       "Isn't it pretty?" Zarakyu was proud of his find. "It was down by the pool."
       "It's beautiful, otochan. Perhaps it's a new species, and you'll be famous for discovering it. Then you can grow up to be a great scientist!"
       The child looked dismayed. "But I don't want to be a syntist! I want to be an artist!"
       Zaabon stroked his shaggy, silky mane. "I'm teasing, ototo. I know you'll be a great artist one day."
       Zarakyu beamed - and tucked the flower behind his brother's ear.
       "Pretty!" Suddenly anxious, he caught his brother's hand between his own. "Niichan, you won't go away, will you? I don't want you to go away."
       Zaabon chuckled and wrapped his arms around the child.
       "I promise I won't leave you. I love you."
       Zarakyu hugged his brother as hard as he could.
       "I love you too..."
       He halted as Zaabon froze, gasping, his whole body stiffening. Zarakyu tried to look up: Zaabon held his face close to his chest.
       "Wh... what is it?" It came out as a whimper. A second later a series of strange, high-pitched buzzes reached their ears. Zaabon climbed to his feet, Zarakyu still held to his chest. The child twisted, peering over his shoulder.
       In the distance, towards the city, bursts of red light were shooting from the sky, biting into the ground. A haze of smoke smeared the horizon...
       Zarakyu looked back up at his brother. Zaabon's eyes were wide and stunned in a face paled almost to white.
       "... no..." Zarakyu could only just make out the whisper. "... no!.....

No!!"
       Clutching the terrified infant to him, Zaabon took off, unsteadily, Zarakyu trembling against the too-fast pounding of his brother's heart as they raced for home.

The blasts had ripped the land open, exposing the underground city and cutting far down into its many levels. Frantic, Zaabon headed for their family dwelling on the far outskirts, trying not to look at the broken bodies on the ground, trying to shield Zarakyu from the horror below.
       Their home was a ruin. His little brother still in his arms, Zaabon landed in what had been the family room.
       "... kaachan?... touchan?..."
       Dripping water, the fizz and crackle of ruptured power conduits, the far-off whine of destructive blasts... No voices. Not even moans. Trembling, Zaabon carried his whimpering brother into the eating hall, stopping dead at the sight within. Biting his lip, trying to understand what he was seeing.
       Zir was against the far wall, his back to the room, three of the children clutched in his arms. All dead. Slivya nowhere to be seen. Sileris had put up a fight - there were four dead alien-things around her - but in the end had been overcome. He tried to fight back tears, staring at her bruised, bleeding, naked body stretched cruciform on the floor. They'd cut her throat, afterwards.
       Zaabon dropped to his knees, willing himself to be dreaming, willing it not to be true. Zarakyu slid from his nerveless arms and stared at his brother's blank white face - then slowly, unwillingly, turned around.
       "... nii... niichan...?"
       He swung back to his brother, to find Zaabon still staring, tears streaming down his face. Zarakyu tugged on his brother's hand.
       "Make it better?"
       The whimpered plea cut through his shock: he pulled Zarakyu to him, holding him so tightly the infant could hardly breathe, and for a moment both children were still. Then Zaabon took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled himself upright, shaking, focusing on the simple things. He could do nothing for his family except avenge them. But his little brother was still alive. He must stay that way. He lifted Zarakyu into his arms once more.
       "We... we have to get out of here. Can you be very brave?"
       Zarakyu nodded dumbly, eyes huge and frightened in a pale face, and wrapped his arms around Zaabon's neck, holding on as tightly as he could. He closed his eyes. Niichan would look after him...

They were caught before they'd covered half the distance to the upper levels.
       "Well what do we have here?"
       There were six of them, combing through the ruins in search of anything of value they could find. Zarakyu cowered against his brother, huddling into his side as Zaabon glowered around him, head high, refusing to let them see his fear. The soldiers laughed.
       "Well, what a pretty little pair! Rare coloration, by the looks of the rest of this vermin. And so feisty! The blue brat has respectable ki, too. Their lordships will be pleased with this catch!"
       Rough hands shoved them forwards: Zarakyu clung to his brother, fighting back his fear, refusing to be dragged from Zaabon's side even as one of the soldiers clubbed the pale Renkian across the temple with his wrist-mounted firearm. Zaabon staggered, dizzily, as blood trickled from the gash, then grabbed for the alien's throat - only to be knocked unconscious as another soldier slammed his firearm against the back of the youngster's head.
       "Niichan!!" Zarakyu pulled his brother's limp body as far as he could into weak and trembling arms, staring around in panic, very small and lost and absolutely terrified, holding onto the only familiar thing in this chaos of burning and ruin and the smell of blood...
       One of the soldiers wrapped an arm around his waist, grabbed his brother by the back of his tunic and hoisted him over one brawny shoulder, and carried them both to the ships that were landing just outside the city.

His head hurt - but he could hear Zarakyu whimpering fearfully at his side. He forced his eyes open and gazed where his little brother's attention was fixed: a small, pink and white and purple, horned biped with a long, thick tail was speaking to an orange-skinned soldier kneeling trembling before it.
       "Think yourself lucky you haven't permanently damaged him."
       "Yes, Lord Furiizaa... I'm sorry, my Lord. It won't happen again."
       A small, black-clawed hand pulled the soldier's terrified face upwards.
       "It had better not. Now leave."
       The soldier scrambled to his feet, saluted, and fled. The tailed creature - Furiizaa - turned to the brothers, a smile twitching its small mouth.
       "Look, brother. He's awake."
       "Indeed he is." A second, almost identical creature joined the first, and both moved to stand in front of the Renkians, regarding them intently.
       "Quite lovely."
       "Aren't they?" The second being frowned. "I suppose you're going to get first choice, as usual."
       "Of course. The day you prove yourself stronger than me, dear brother, is the day I allow you first pick. I'll have the blue one. He has the stronger ki - he'll last longer, and might be worth training."
       Light-headed with pain, Zaabon grabbed Zarakyu to him, one arm around his back, the other cradling his head. "You will not separate us."
       "Oh, really?" sneered the second being.
       His brother chuckled. "Perhaps I should take both."
       Hissing, the second creature rounded on his sibling. "That breaks our agreement."
       "Relax, Furiju. I wouldn't want you to get upset. You can have the little green brat."
       Zaabon pulled himself upright, staggering, Zarakyu still in his arms.
       "We stay together."
       Furiizaa stared, then laughed.
       "I don't think you fully understand the situation. You have no choice in the matter."
       Zaabon glowered, and would have spoken, but the impact of Furiju's heavy tail across his back sent him sprawling. Ribs aching ferociously, Zarakyu still clinging to him, Zaabon pulled himself to his knees.
       "Please... Let us stay together."
       Furiizaa sneered. "It pleases me to hear you beg. Do it again. Who knows, I might even grant your request!"
       Swallowing his pride, Zaabon lowered his head.
       "Please, my Lords, I beg you - let us stay together."
       "How cute." Furiju glanced at his brother. "Shall we let them stay together?"
       Zaabon held his breath for a moment as Furiizaa appeared to consider. Then:
       "Of course not, brother dear. That would never do. I'll take the pretty blue one, you can have the little green one. Do try not to break him though."
       Furiju chuckled. "I'd say the same, except I know you will anyway."
       "You know me so well..." He extended a hand to Zaabon. "Come, little slave."
       Zarakyu tight against his chest, Zaabon pushed himself backwards until brought up short by the curving wall of the ship - then pulled himself upright and took off, flying over the heads of the creatures and heading for the door - which slid shut as he reached it. He turned, desperately looking for another exit. There was none.
       Furiizaa looked - annoyed.
       "Your antics have ceased to be amusing. You will desist. Now."
       Ignoring him, Zaabon stared at the porthole, wondering if he had the strength to break through it... Seconds later some sort of debilitating blast hit him, wrenching a scream from his throat and knocking him from the air. He landed heavily on his back, groaning as Zarakyu's weight bruised his ribs from above.
       "Enough of this!" The voice was sharp. "You will come with me now."
       And Zaabon tried, frantically, to hold onto his screaming little brother as Furiju ripped Zarakyu from him, tucking the terrified child under his arm.
       "...otochan!... otochan!!!..."
       He tried to push himself upright, but his arms wouldn't hold him, his body wouldn't obey him. He sobbed as the door slid shut behind Furiju.
       It was the last time he saw his brother for fifteen years.

Furiizaa's tail wrapped around his neck, hauling him upright, not quite choking him.
       "What's your name, pretty thing?"
       Staring into crimson eyes, he stayed silent. The tail tightened, then slackened a little.
       "You would be wise not to anger me. I repeat, what is your name?" He smirked. "If you please me, I may let you see your little brother."
       The sudden awful realisation that Furiizaa could hold that promise - or threat - over him at any time sent an icy chill through his body. He bit back a sob.
       "Z... Zaabon."
       "Zaabon..." Furiizaa rolled the syllables around his tongue. "Pleasant enough. Now, Zaabon - you belong to me. I am your master. You will do what I say, when I say it. There is no way you can escape: I am far stronger than you will ever be. Do you understand?"
       His throat burning, Zaabon managed to whimper. "Y... yes..."
       "Yes what?"
       "Y... yes, Lord Furiizaa..."
       "Good." He loosed his tail: Zaabon landed on the floor again. "The ships will be taking off shortly. My brother and I have decided your world is too old, and too poor in resources, to be of any use to us: it will be destroyed before we leave this system." He smirked. "It's my brother's turn to play: you and I will watch from here. Your colony worlds are, however, rich enough in rare minerals to make them worth expending a little time and effort. Once the vermin on them have been eradicated, of course."
       Zaabon stared, unable to believe what he was hearing. Furiizaa sneered.
       "Oh, don't worry. I'll allow you a last sight of your home - while I impress your status upon you..."
       The metal below him vibrated gently as the ship prepared for take off - and Furiizaa's tail went back around his neck, pulling him close. Clawed hands shredded the silk clothing from his body: the whispered voice was almost tender.
       "You are going to be such a treat. And when I've broken you, I'll let my men play with you."
       Furiizaa dragged the bewildered Renkian to a porthole and shoved his face against it. A short distance away Furiju's ship hung motionless. Far below Renkia turned serenely in the sun, a beautiful blue world, soft clouds lightly veiling its surface. Zaabon stared in awe, forgetting for a brief moment where he was - until Furiizaa sank black claws into his hips, holding him still...
       "Watch carefully, now."
       A small, pink and white and purple figure had exited from the other craft, and seemed to be - creating some sort of bright light between its hands. Zaabon frowned, then froze, biting back a cry, as something icy cold, rough and rigid rubbed against his buttocks.
       "... wh... what...?"

As Furiju released the ball of devastating energy towards Renkia, Furiizaa bit into the muscle on the back of Zaabon's neck and rammed harshly into his sweet virgin body. Zaabon did scream, then, thrashing against the cold creature above him, but Furiizaa held him still, and Zaabon watched in agony as his homeworld split itself apart, material from the molten core boiling up to the surface. As Furiizaa plunged into him, over and over again, the hard black claws ripped open sensitive blue skin, found pressure points without even trying....

Semi-conscious, Zaabon lay in a bleeding heap on the floor. Furiizaa glared at him, then called for an aide, gesturing to the Renkian.
       "Weaker than I thought. Get him into a tank. The men will have to wait."
       Hoisting the limp blue body over his shoulder, the aide saluted and left.

Crackling with the joy of destruction, Furiju returned to his chamber and caught Zarakyu's chin in one cold, hard hand, leering down into frightened golden eyes.
       "Pretty child - I am your master. I'm going to prove it now, and I expect you to remember it. And you will come to me without complaint whenever I command you to do so. Do you understand?"
       Zarakyu gazed up at the Ice Lord, not understanding anything. Furiju let go of his chin - and slapped him so hard across the face the little Renkian was sent sprawling. His swollen face stinging, lips bleeding, the child stared up at the alien, terrified.
       Furiju smiled.
       "Ah. I do so like the smell of fear."
       Grabbing Zarakyu's shaggy mane the changeling ripped the silk bodysuit from the little body, dragged him to the bed and shoved him face down, baring the front of his own body and rubbing something... cold... hard... ridged...
       Zarakyu screamed in agony as Furiju shoved into him - then the child passed out.

He learned to survive. Oh, he learned, all right. He learned that Furiju liked a fight, liked to have to subdue his victims - so he submitted without demur, lying uncomplainingly on his stomach on the bed whenever the changeling demanded his presence, his thighs spread and backside tilted upwards in readiness. More often than not it earned him nothing worse than a sound beating, although just occasionally Furiju took what was offered, if he was frustrated and angry enough. The result was the same, anyway: a session in the regeneration tank to heal ruptured organs and broken bones, and a deepening hatred of the Ice Lord. But at least the changeling didn't allow anyone else to touch him. He was thankful for small mercies.

He was trained as a warrior - except... He couldn't kill. He'd tried. He couldn't. He wouldn't. If Furiju tried to force him, he'd find some way to kill himself. Finally end this torment. He'd almost managed it.
       "Inept..."
       A hard, cold fist sent him spinning...
       "...stupid..."
       A clawed, three-toed foot caught him in the ribs...
       "...little..."
       The powerful tail whipped across his face, nearly breaking his neck. He crashed to the floor and lay still, sobbing for breath, ribs broken, jaw fractured, entire body throbbing with pain. Furiju raised a hand, gathering ki, readying himself for the kill...
       And Tamago coughed.
       "My lord..."
       Furiju's head snapped round, glaring at the alien.
       "What!!"
       "He may be wholly incompetent when it comes to purging planets, my lord - but he does show excellent organisational abilities."
       Furiju stared, bewildered.
       "..what...? You interrupt me to tell me that!?"
       "But my lord, we need someone of his calibre in administration."
       Furiju glared down at the beaten figure.
       "Very well. Heal him then put him to work."

Tamago helped him out of the tank. Zarakyu stared at him.
       "Why?"
       The alien smiled sadly. "I have seen this before. It gives me no pleasure to see true ability wasted or inappropriately used. Besides..." He hesitated, then laid a gentle hand against Zarakyu's cheek. "I don't like seeing beautiful things damaged."
       For the first time feeling as though he had an ally - of sorts, anyway - Zarakyu smiled tremulously as the geophysics analyst draped a wrap across his shoulders.

He learned. He made a point of learning, everything there was to know about running Furiju's forces. Correlating the details of star systems likely to be lucrative or useful to the Cold Empire for Furiju's approval, then organising the military offensives against them. Ensuring the troops had sufficient supplies and resources to perform their duties with maximum efficiency and the minimum of effort. There was a certain satisfying artistry to the job, and he slowly gained power and influence within the changeling's organisation. After all, Zarakyu could make sure you had those little extra comforts that make a long hard campaign that much easier to bear - and he could also make your life difficult if you annoyed him. It was wise to stay on his good side...
       And for the first time since Furiju had taken him he found himself drawing again, making sketches of the sentients on the ship - until Furiju found out. The subsequent interview, and spell in the tank, persuaded him this was perhaps not such a good idea.

Then there came the day when he was finally allowed to speak to his brother. Hiding his eagerness, he sat before the screen and gazed wide-eyed at Zaabon. A fully-grown, powerful Zaabon. A Zaabon who... seemed... somehow unsure of himself?
       He tried not to frown.
       "Niichan... how are you?"
       Zaabon nodded. "Well, ototo. And you?"
       "Also well. Zaabon..." He hesitated, then ploughed ahead. "You do not look well."
       Still-graceful fingers brushed against heavily bruised blue skin. "Furiizaa has me training others."
       Zarakyu frowned to himself. Since when has 'training' included bites on your neck and shoulders? But he nodded, maintaining the fiction. Suddenly desperately afraid that those lewd muttered comments he'd caught, about the beautiful alien who serviced Furiizaa's men at his master's command, might be true...
       Zaabon was speaking, forcing a smile. "I understand you've done well."
       "We both have." Which was true, in a way. Off-duty - tasks - aside, Zaabon's status as Furiizaa's lieutenant was close to Zarakyu's own. Although Furiizaa would probably find it easier to replace Zaabon than Furiju would find it to get a substitute for his personnel controller.
       Zaabon glanced to the side, then looked back, apprehension in his eyes. "I need to cut this short - duty calls. Stay well... otochan..."
       Zarakyu felt tears threaten at his brother's use of the old nickname - then swallowed and nodded.
       "Let's try and speak again soon, yes?"
       Zaabon was looking increasingly anxious.
       "Yes. I have to go..."
       The connection was cut before they could say goodbye, and Zarakyu scowled at the screen, reminded of how very much he hated his master. Hated Furiizaa. Hated the entire Cold Empire. There had to be a way to escape this... slavery. What was the point of being this powerful in Furiju's organisation if he couldn't do something positive with it?
       He relived the brief communication, and blinked away tears. He wanted his brother back. Wanted to soothe away the hurt and fear in his eyes. Wanted to tell him he wasn't to blame for not being able to keep his promises, to save his brother, to save himself, from the changelings. Wanted to curl up with him on some gentle world, watch the sunset and talk long into the night. Wanted...
       What you can never have.
       The Ice Lords had destroyed their world, and changed them forever.

"Come here."
       Zaabon paused a moment longer, trying to deal with so many things, hide so much, present his usual impassive face to his master...
       His guilt at being unable to protect Zarakyu. His delight that his otochan seemed so well, had grown into such a competent, strong, beautiful man.
       And the constant, dull, clawing pain of his own submission, his surrender to Furiizaa's subjugation, the pain that only eased when he fought. His skills as a warrior the only thing left in which he could take any pride...
       Head bowed, Zaabon turned from the screen and walked towards the bed. He no longer put up any kind of fight - and Furiizaa no longer cared. It had taken him years of violation, brutality and degradation, but he had, finally, broken the Renkian. Zaabon was his, body and soul, to do with as he wanted.

Three days after Furiju had broken the news of his brother's death, Furiizaa contacted his sibling. Zarakyu was with the changeling at the time - still numb, still in denial - haltingly providing a status report: Furiju liked to have the Renkian report in person at least once every couple of days. Furiizaa greeted his brother, then paused.
       "And who is that you have with you, dear brother?" Furiizaa peered as Furiju yanked Zarakyu into view. "Ah, yes, I remember. Poor dear Zaabon's brother. I don't suppose you'd like to sell him to me, would you? I do miss dear Zaabon." The scarlet eyes narrowed as the changeling leered. "And so do my men."
       Zarakyu went completely cold - but fortunately Furiju could be counted on to do the opposite of what his brother wanted. Most of the time, anyway.
       "You wouldn't want him, brother dear. He's no warrior. He'd be no sport for you. Any of you."
       "Pity." Furiizaa stared for a few moments longer, then turned his attention back to his sibling. At which point Zarakyu tuned out, nearly faint with relief - immediately feeling guilty. Then the anguish of his brother's loss threatened to overwhelm him again. He bit his lip and tried to concentrate instead on what Furiizaa was saying, something about the Saiyan prince Vejiita, ningens and - dragonballs? What the hell were they?
       Whatever they were, the news had not pleased Furiju. As his brother had closed the connection he'd rounded angrily on Zarakyu, gripping his long dark emerald plait and pulling him close. Zarakyu froze.
       "L... Lord Furiju?"
       Snarling, the Ice Lord tore the bodysuit from the smooth green body and slammed the Renkian to the cold metal floor.

"You can go now. Be back on duty at 1500 tonight."
       He had to move. If he didn't, it was quite feasible that Furiju would force him down again, taking out his pique on and in the graceful green body at his feet.
       Zarakyu moved.
       The tanks were full, with others waiting to use them, and at any rate a simple case of rape did not warrant the use of one of the machines. Zarakyu dragged himself to his quarters, every move an agony.
       He managed to make it as far as just inside the door before passing out.

He finally woke up, on the floor of his quarters, tears streaming down his face.
       It had finally, truly sunk in. His species was dead.
       Zaabon was dead.
       His beloved brother was dead. He could feel blood seeping from him, his entire body screaming silently with pain. The pain of his injuries, the pain of loss, the yawning emptiness that had once been the knowledge of his brother's love, his protectiveness, his beautiful, unique self.
       Zarakyu choked on the bitter taste of futile hatred.
       And sobbed his brother's name, cold, shattered and alone.