[Eleanora]
Not again. Dear gods, not again.
As Primus, my last chance mate, falls beneath me, my clutch begins to tear free. These eggs are only 2 months old--far too soon to be laid. But I know the signs. I feel the tell-tell sensation of them ripping away from me, the pressure to bear down and push them from my body greater than my need to hold onto them. Again my body fails me. Despite the Technician's assurances that any seed would be good enough to strengthen my clutch, again I feel their warmth slipping from me.
The first time this happened, was when I watched my beloved husband suffer after the fall of his brother. We were able to extract a sample from him and using the tools we salvaged from our private facility, impregnate me again before anyone could be the wiser.
But this i
