“...Vegeta?”
The Council, and indeed the entire great chamber, were shaken to the core as Gohan uttered the name.
“The Throne...The Black Dragon...has returned?” Bairsh's voice was down to a shocked whisper.
Trunks, his face guarded, turned away. “...No. He has not returned to Chikyuu-sei, nor does he plan to.”
And again, a litany of voices, low and fearful of merely the idea of “The Black Dragon”, sailed throughout the Hall.
Goten let go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He turned to Bra, whose heart was beating so loudly his Saiyajin ears could pick it up.
Of course, he thought. The very mention of Vegeta...
He reached out and took her hand. And at his touch, she started to compose herself. If Bra had ever been a woman of humility, she would have turned and gave Goten thanks.
“My Great Father still wishes to remain away from all of these...conflicts. He, as Son Gokou before him, seeks for his children to restore the Universe to rights before he returns.”
Yamucha, his eyes lowered and his waist bent in an almost bowing posture, placed his right hand on his chest. “My Lord Throne-son...There are many other matters that the Council must handle before we are adjourned. I also think it is a prudent course to let them handle Serulia from here on out.”
Trunks gave him a grateful smile, the kind one would give to an old friend.
“Of course, Yamucha.”
Trunks turned to reclaim his seat, when Gohan's words broke through the tepid air.
“'...Restore the Universe to rights'?”
Both Yamucha and Trunks spun on their heels to see the Firstborn standing with his arms folded.
“...It's not like Vegeta to just leave things in others' hands, no matter how capable,” he continued.
“My Father knows of this Council, and the politics of modern day. He just wanted to help, without treading on any toes.” replied Trunks.
Bairsh looked prepared to speak, but kept silence at the sight of Gohan's smouldering face.
“It is stranger still that he wouldn't make himself known to anyone else,” Gohan gestured to the only two seated upon the center dais. “Why would he not contact your sister? We all know how much he loves Bra. And she was temporarily the head of Capsule after you went into hiding.”
At the word 'hiding', pregnant with the tone of accusation, the crowd began to titter nervously amongst themselves.
Yamucha saw the dangerous look in Trunks' eyes. “Trunks--”
“My father...did not contact me directly. I received kind words from him through the Rikau delegates.” Trunks' voice dropped one decibel with each slow, deliberate step he took towards Gohan. “And as it pertains to your last observation...I hide from nothing.”
The two men were less than three feet away from each other. No one dared breathe.
And it was then that Bra felt a slight pressure on her fingers, just painful enough to get her attention. Goten was still holding her hand. Upon meeting his eyes, she saw them shine with cold, stunning certainty.
She stood from her chair.
“Enough.”
And the gathered in the Hall, including the three on the council floor, all turned to her.
Picking up her gown's hem, she walked down the dais. “Enough,” she repeated. “Haven't we gone through enough loss already?”
Her steps were almost lazy, and she finally stopped as her gait bisected a line between Gohan and her brother.
“Has not a father nearly lost a daughter?” Bra cast her glance downward. “...Has not a husband very nearly lost his wife?”
“My Lady Goddess--” someone started. Bairsh, perhaps.
“And along with this do we lose sight as well?” Bra ignored the other voice. “The Enemy has made themselves known. They have struck us where they know it will hurt us most. And no matter who we think they are, or what they mean, or what they want...They are constant in their plotting against us. Against Chikyuu.”
Trunks first, then Gohan, met one another's eyes. Then, hesitantly, they calmed their shoulders from their ears, shooting hard and silent breaths through clenched teeth with the effort.
Bra was still speaking, addressing all in attendance.“And as long as they have no end to their diligence, neither can we. An attack on my brother's wife,” Bra paused. “...An attack on my brother's wife is an attack on me. And on my father.”
She turned, finally piercing Gohan with her gaze before her words.
“And on you and yours.”
Bra looked up at the Council. “We cannot afford to be divided. Through unity, we will flush them out. Our joining will purify us like the whitest snow—on which the dark pock mark of their deeds will have no place to hide.”
Rolling, thunderous applause shook the Hall. The Council members exchanged positive, determined glances.
And in the foreign affairs seat, Krillin grunted.
“When all else fails...” he muttered, “...Send in your Closer.”
“Can you believe what she said to me?” Bra lifted her long hair from her shoulders, taking off her necklace. “'Photo-op'. As if I would be so callous with her child in intensive care.”
From the bed, Gohan wrapped a sheet around his middle.
“She meant no real harm in it. We all have been...under a lot of stress.”
She crossed the room, following Gohan's gaze out of the wall-sized window, into the expanse of space. Bra's personal cruiser offered a generous view of Capsule's University Satellite with Chikyuu as the backdrop. A shuttle, moving thick with anti-grav thrusters, docked with the MedCenter. Gohan turned away, recalling the last conversation he had with the passenger on that ship.
“Looks like the Yes-men have their day once more,” his wife's bitter voice reached his ears. Gohan turned to see her standing near the Council floor. Her feet perched on the stair just above the marble clearing. It was the closest she would approach.
“Videl--”
Gohan saw her glare over his shoulder. Trunks and Yamucha were shaking hands with the Shikaji delegates who had attended today's session.
“Jackals. Lying jackals, all of them. Look at their fake smiles. I wonder where they hide the knives in those robes.”
“It is over and done with,” Gohan cut her off before she could go any further. “Seiben is in custody. It doesn't matter if Trunks isn't forthcoming with his real sources. At the least, we are one step closer to finding out who attacked Pan.”
Videl's eyes softened at her daughter's name, as if seeing through a fog. “Pan...Yes. Pan. I...I almost forgot...”
Gohan lowered his gaze to the floor.
“Gohan?” Videl's voice had become small. “Are we leaving to see her now?”
Her husband raised his head. And smiled.
“Yes. We are going to see her. Today.” Gohan took her hands into his.
They both heard the clearing of a throat, and turned to see a small black-haired young woman, her hands held behind her back.
“My Lord Firstborn,” Hana paused. “...And Lady Videl.”
She bowed, and the skin on Videl's neck tightened noticeably.
“Yes, is there something you need, Hana?” Gohan ignored the volatile look Videl shot his way as she realized he knew the girl.
“Nothing needed by my undeserving hand, but there is a...small matter that my Lady Goddess wishes to discuss with My Lord privately.”
Gohan hesitated. He felt the cool, brittle fingers in his hand. “Can it not wait until I come back from MedCenter?”
“While I do not presume--”
“Indeed you don't,” Videl seethed.
Surprising in her boldness, Hana met eyes with the older woman before continuing.
“...While I do not presume to know my Mistress' will, I do believe there was urgency in Her voice.”
With the great Hall teeming with energy and conversation all around them, the three stood in silence.
“But...surely if My Lord Firstborn wishes to meet with Her another time, My Lady Goddess will not hold anger.”
Gohan slowly looked down at Videl, who now slid closer to him, wrapping an arm as far as she could around his waist. She met eyes with her husband.
“No,” he said finally. “I can meet with her now. If she can accompany me to MedCenter.”
The blood drained from Videl's face, and she faintly heard Hana's sound of acknowledgment.
“My Lady Goddess has already prepared Her own cruiser. She can take My Lord to rendezvous with the MedCenter shuttle.”
Gohan took Videl's face in his hands. “I will meet you later. You'll need to rest for a while before we visit Pan.”
“Gohan--”
Gohan kissed her forehead. “The shuttle crew will make you comfortable. I will see you at MedCenter.”
He strode away, not daring to look at her face again.
Bra joined him, staring out into nothingness for a moment. Then, she shook her head, grinning.
“Stress is the operative word for the current state of things,” her eyes flared. “The Serulians. Why are we surprised at all, knowing their history?”
“Serulia isn't our worst enemy, but they certainly aren't our best friend. It all just seems...”
Bra frowned. “What?”
“...Convenient. Serulia is now ostracized throughout the known galaxy, which will probably destroy them as an economic power. Unless, of course, their government abdicates and Serulia becomes the next protectorate. Rikau has stayed out of politics until now...but when Chikyuu's number one free market competitor starts to maneuver around, trying to avoid paying their trading fees, all of a sudden they have a change of heart? And Vegeta just happened to notice?”
Bra, her lips parted, put a hand on Gohan's arm.
“...You don't believe him. You don't believe Trunks.”
The Firstborn clenched his jaw, silent. Bra's eyes widened, and she began to shake her head.
“Trunks has done many things. Many things. But he would not lie. Not about this.”
“So what do you think?” Gohan leaned on the window.
She paused before answering. “I do not know what else is going on. But if Trunks says it was my father...then it was my father.”
Gohan gave a quick nod, looking back towards the large bed. The remaining sheets were crumpled and tossed.
“Perhaps getting Serulia out of the way was his goal. Or maybe there is more to Pan's attack than he is letting on. He is planning something,” the Firstborn mused. “Trunks likes his secrets.”
“Don't we all?” Bra moved closer, trailing a hand to where the sheet wrapped around his middle.
Gohan's breath became rough. “Bra...” he gasped.
The fingers on her other hand traced the outline of a nipple.
“I have to go...to MedCenter.”
Bra didn't look up from his chest. “We can dock within the hour. Until then...”
With visible effort, Gohan grabbed her wandering hands.
“But we've done enough of this for the past few, haven't we?” he whispered.
She laughed, voice husky. “Judging from your body's reaction, we haven't done nearly enough.”
Bra slid her bare leg deftly through his. The path of her touch curved inside draped folds of cotton. Without realizing it, Gohan had banded his arms around her waist with seemingly crushing force.
The first part of his sentence was drowned away in a deep, predatory growl. “...time...Another time...I will see you again at West Castle.”
Her own breath labored, she raised her face to meet his gaze.
“Gohan...” she started, closing her eyes. Slowly, wistfully, she stepped away from him. “...You can use the baths to freshen up if you wish.”
Gohan nodded, reaching forward to caress her arms. “Thank you.” And he smiled.
He walked past her, taking off his sheet to enter the baths.
“Gohan?”
He turned, all pretenses of lust leaked dry from him, the innocuous look on his face an echo of his father's.
“Yes?”
“Does she know?”
Gohan frowned. He let his eyes scan Bra head to toe before he replied, “No. No, of course not.”
Bra sighed, nodding with a smile. He disappeared into the baths.
Making sure Gohan was not in sight, she pressed the button at her bedside. A few seconds past, then Hana walked in from a side door.
“My Lady Goddess summons Her servant?” said Hana, while Bra noticed the girl's face was flushed and downcast to avoid seeing the rest of the room.
“He is bathing,” Bra intoned. “Have us docked at MedCenter as soon as we are cleared for entry.”
Hana looked up, visibly relieved. “I will inform the crew.” She exited the way she came.
Bra turned her head to look back out, into nothingness.
