Just after the Passing of Son Gokou, intergalactic marauders arrived on Chikyuu to capitalize on the absence of the planet's ultimate hero. Led by the remnants of Gokou's band of fellow warriors and offspring, the War lasted ten long months. Finally, Earth's forces claimed victory. The descendants of Gokou and Vegeta are now worshipped as Gods, while his closest comrades are men of universal influence and power. Chikyuu itself has been consolidated from many nations into one sovereign conglomerate, led by the Chikyuu-jin Council of Peace. 30 years after the Passing, the Oracles of the Spirit proclaim this with surety:
Son Gokou shall return.
“Are you positive this is what you saw?”
“Yes,” the data miner's tongue lilted with the slightest accent. “Your Grace's new surveillance drones were adjusted to 5.25 Kelvin, mach 8, 0.2941 millisecs. I believe the image was taken outside one of the moons of Arjun.”
“The War Planet...Tell me, why do you think the other satellites didn't pick up anything?”
He shifted in his chair. “Well, there are no shortage of theories. Most of the analysts on site believed that the signal itself could have been the product of 'interstellar bouncing', the phenomena of--”
“Reverberating signals that we ourselves have sent out distorted by light years of interference.”
“...That is correct, Your Grace. Seeing as though the Arjunsei-jin have been cooperating openly with our established military installments so far, no one seems to think it is any 'secret rebel base'.”
“Especially since...no one else saw this image but yourself.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Per your orders.”
“You were educated as part of Capsule's exchange program. Am I correct?”
“Yes Your Grace. I am Movahr, CCID #05T77.”
“Where are you from, Movahr?”
“I...was raised in the North Quadrant, but my mother was from Madran.”
“Madran. Hn.”
Movahr accepted the warm cup of tea handed to him. “After closer examination of the time signature and the sheer size of the artifact, I decided to remote jockey the drones myself and see if I could get a better idea of...exactly what it was since we were sure it wasn't just a phantom signal.”
“And that is when and how you took these pictures with your adjusted settings. Very good. Where are the pictures?”
“Here,” Movahr slid the chip across the table. “These are the masters, Your Grace, also per your orders.”
“Thank you.”
Silence.
“You are dismissed, Analyst Movahr of the North Quadrant. Your superiors will be briefing you concerning your active duties.”
“Will I be returning to Arjun, Your Grace?”
“...I will leave that in the hands of your commanding officers.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“And thank you again, Movahr, for your service.”
The door slid open, then closed again.
“How do you know he isn't lying about sharing the images?” Juunanagou stood staring at the data miner through the one-sided mirror as he spoke.
“He isn't,” Yamucha stopped his jaunt from the room to stand beside the cyborg. “The drones themselves have already been erased and recommissioned, and Arjun media have already released our statement about surveillance testing in the area.”
Junanagou motioned towards Movahr. “And him?”
Yamucha ignored Juunanagou's question, instead electing to insert Movahr's data chip into his handheld comm. Both men's faces were illuminated in the darkness by the screen's contents. Yamucha's expression didn't change, but his jaw bulged with clenched teeth. The cyborg raised his head, brow drawn and eyes wide.
“Your Grace?”
Yamucha silently removed the chip, crushing it in his hands. His cape swirled behind him as walked out to the hangar's lift.
“Prepare my departure for the West Quadrant in the morning.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Juunanagou bowed, and his head darted behind him towards the hapless data miner once more. “And him?”
Yamucha was already in the lift, doors closing as he spoke.
“...We don't let him leave.”
