Goten leaned against the balcony, looking over the smattering of people below. The banquet, referred to by the Chikyuu press as the Semi-Annual Interstellar Cultural and Informational Dinner, was the latest installment by the Council of Peace to spread good relations throughout the galaxy and reach out to other-worldly populations. Trunks had said the dinners were to address the concerns of safety from the ousted Arjunians, as well as trade agreements and diplomatic ties with Chikyuu and its protectorates.
But all Goten could concern himself with was his nagging headache.
“Not in the mood to bless the crowd with your presence?”
Goten looked over at Juunanagou, who suddenly stood leaning on a column beside him.
“...Trunks isn't even here, and there's enough 'Divine Family' action with Pan in the mix,” Goten gestured at his niece, who stood in the middle of a wide swath of dignitaries. They each kissed her hand as she talked and smiled, some even going on one knee to bow to the new 'Wife of the Throne'.
Juunanagou smirked. “I guess the motivation of having this event so soon after the wedding has been realized: Son Pan is ingratiating herself rather nicely, and half of the ambassadors are so taken with her that their complaints about Trunks' latest import tariffs are all but forgotten.”
“Just like Yamucha said,” Goten commented, putting his head in his hands.
“...Are you all right?” Juunanagou asked, arching a brow.
“Fine. Just...haven't slept well lately.”
“Ah,” the cyborg uttered, his attention going back down to the banquet hall.
“...I am surprised,” the Ambassador of Serulia grinned, spreading his hands across his large belly. “His Holy Lord Son of the Throne has put his wife to work this soon. I thought surely he would want to keep such a jewel to himself a little while longer before throwing her us lowly wolves.”
“Trunks and I are in love but we do not live in a fantasy,” Pan said, measuring her every word. “There are things to be done, and I am committed to helping in any way I can.”
“You are helping us by just being here tonight, My Lady Goddess.” the Chikyuu-jin Councilman did not meet her eyes as he bowed respectively. But he gave a glance of venom to the Ambassador. “It is unseemly for the Ambassador to speak so...casually...with one so above us all in Grace.”
“Of course,” the Serulian looked apologetic. At least, for the moment.
A representative for the Madrani spoke up. “Perhaps My Lady can let us know her Lord Husband's latest report of the Arjun Menace?”
Pan was hesitant. The intelligence consorts that had coached her for tonight advised her to direct questions about the Arjunsei-jin to Goten or Yamucha. But Goten was no where in sight, and Pan sensed Yamucha a distance away engrossed in conversation.
“By all accounts, the Arjunian armadas still lay in ruin and their numbers dwindle to nothing,” she stated finally.
“That is intelligence that we have gathered with our own resources,” a Farolian diplomat countered. “What we would like to hear is more details about His Holy Lord's extended military agenda towards Arjun.”
“And isn't it curious...how besides archaeological data, and limited historical information...how no one has seen an indigenous Arjunian?”
There was silence, save for the music and the hum of the many discussions around them, after the Serulian Ambassador's words.
“...To be more specific, there are records of travel to and from Arjun, but only going as far back as twenty-four Chikyuu-standard years ago. Why, besides various eyewitness accounts and testimonies, is there no other evidence of travel by a race who has been space-faring for over two millennia?”
Pan's eyes met with the ambassador's for a moment. Then, she lowered her head. When she raised it again, a far-away, haunted look lay in her dark pupils.
“The Arjunian Armada came to Chikyuu to destroy it and take its resources. To rape its lands and enslave its children. After surviving so much turmoil and misery, and after losing my grandfather, we fought. We fought to save our home,” Pan intoned, sounds of explosions and screams echoing through her mind. “And if need be, we will do it again. Do not ask me to explain your findings, good sir, for I can explain it no better than I can tell you why people urged Chikyuu's forfeiture of sovereignty and natural resources to surrounding planetary governments in exchange for protection. A provision that your parliament supported, if I remember correctly.”
Flustered, the Serulian was about to speak when Yamucha appeared beside Pan from the crowd.
“Having a good cultural exchange, are we not?” he said, flashing white teeth and placing his hands behind his back.
There were uneasy chuckles that gave way to more lightheartedness at Pan's smile. “Of course, Your Grace. I thank you for the opportunity to host tonight.”
She bowed graciously, as the assembly cheered around her.
Bra sat by her bedroom window, and she didn't blink as she felt the rush of air and ki behind her. She only inhaled deeply, responding to the new presence in her chamber like a caress.
“Gohan,” she breathed, standing up as he scanned the room.
“There aren't as many servants and tutors in the east wing as there are normally,” he observed.
“Some of them wanted to visit family,” Bra lied without missing a beat.
He nodded, and she crossed the room to stand before him.
“I heard you have samples from Arbatzu-sei. I came to see them.”
“You may see them,” said Bra. And she reached out her hand, brushing her knuckles on his arm. Gohan arched his neck to the ceiling, closing his eyes.
“...This is wrong,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
“Then why did you come here...” Her hand ran lower. “...when it's night...” And lower. “...and none of my servants are around?”
“I...” Gohan began, as Bra slowly unravelled the silk sash of his gi.
“Why did you start coming to my room, and why do you continue?” Bra inquired, more insistent.
“I...I don't know.”
Bra paused, and raised lidded blue orbs to Gohan's face. “But you're Son Gohan. You know everything.”
And she continued to undress him.
